Nikolai Biryukov
Populist Rhetoric and Democratic Culture
Patterns of Self-Identification at the USSR Congress of People’s
Deputies
Parliamentarism and Sobornost’
Democracy
has a language of its own. It is, however, justly argued that words are as often
used to convey meanings, as to conceal them. But they may also betray.
Following is an attempt to reconstruct the mentality behind political rhetoric.
Our examples have been taken from the proceedings of the First Congress of the
USSR People’s Deputies held in Moscow in May-June 1989.1
Elsewhere
we have distinguished between two models of representative institutions,
characteristic of two different types of political culture, viz. pluralist
democracy and sobornost’.2 We have argued that patterns of
pre-understanding (social ontologies) that constitute
the core of these political cultures are distinctly different, even if there
are features common to both of them. For the sake of the present discussion
these distinctions can be summarised as follows:
(1)
The concept that underlies the parliamentary model would depict deputies as
basically representing their constituents. Although the parliament may be seen
as a “combined” representative of the entire electorate, the idea is only
functional in emergency situations, or when matters of foreign policy (marginal
for the institution) come to the fore. However, this is precisely the
perception that forms the pivotal point of sobornost’:
a representative institution is “representative” only inasmuch as it may be
seen to represent the nation (the people) as a whole.
(2)
In this perspective, a Sobor is to be viewed
as a single whole, too. All kinds of political disunity (conflicts of
interests, disagreements over principles and approaches or about particular
steps and persons) are lamentable and must be expelled. The model of sobornost’ is incompatible with pluralism.
The parliamentary model, on the contrary, is based on the assumption that the
existence of groups or factions that express and defend particular interests in
a representative institution is not only natural, but is, indeed, its sole
justification.
(3)
Hence, the parliament’s principal function is to reconcile diverse interests
and work out mutually acceptable decisions. Debates and negotiations are the
members’ basic occupations. The Sobor,
however, is to represent the people as a whole in its intercourse with the
authorities; its function is to confirm (or disconfirm) the latter’s
legitimacy. It is, therefore, convened only when this legitimacy has, for some
reason, been lost and is to be reestablished. In this capacity it is expected
to say either aye or no, thus assuming a markedly plebiscitary character.
Since
the prevalent understanding of the nature of society and of the purpose of
social intercourse is likely to affect the character and contents of political
rhetoric, examination of the latter may, inversely, be used to reconstruct the
models of social reality shared by the participants in the political discourse.
With
this intent we shall leave aside the subject-matter of the debate that was
raging at that extraordinary assembly and concentrate on what may seem a purely
linguistic, if not spurious feature of that debate, viz. the use of pronouns
“we” and/or “our”. This choice of perspective is, however, justified by the
fact that this is, indeed, the main and most straightforward means of
self-identification and may thus be expected to provide significant insights
into the mentality of speakers. Examination of usage and clarification of
meanings attached to these pronouns in a particular text or a group of texts
may be regarded as one of the most promising means of exposing the models of
social reality that underlie the political discourse.
But
“we” is not only a conventional form of social and political
self-identification and, thus, the obvious, immediate object of inquiry. It is
also a most effective rhetorical and/or sophistical device that would allow an
author or a speaker, by varying the meanings of the word and/or substituting
one of the meanings for another, to bring to the notice of or even impose on
the audience an idea that need not be stated explicitly and, hence, is not
likely to be subjected to rational analysis and criticism. This is not to
imply, that whoever does all this, does always engage in a conscious
manipulation of his/her audience; on the contrary, conscious manipulation is a
marginal practice. More often than not, these rhetoric tricks are quite
spontaneous. The resulting substitution of meanings occurs as a “natural”
manifestation of the pre-understanding patterns, not consciously held, but no less
real for that. This “natural” substitution may be due to a shift of emphasis or
a change of subject, it may be brought about by a need to appeal to a different
person and so on, but it will be no less effective for that. On the contrary,
the more spontaneous the substitution, the more favourable
the conditions for the display of the implicit socioontological
models and the easier their transfer from the speaker to the audience. On the
other hand, it is only when the participants in the discourse share models that
are congruent enough, that the substitution may appear unforced and hence be
functional.
Our
analysis is not going to be exhaustive. It would be tedious to cite all our
examples in detail. We shall confine ourselves to but a few, that we find most
illuminating, and conclude the commentary with a brief survey of the results.
V. Mesyats’ Address
Comrades Deputies! The sharp
and controversial character of the discussion to spread at our Congress
is quite understandable. We are discussing the most urgent, most vital
problems that relate to the bases of development of our multinational
state in the fields of economy, politics, interstate relations. And no one of us
is entitled to the truth of the highest instance, entitled to assert that one’s
own standpoint alone is right. Only the collective reason based on the social
practice and the realities of our life, on the scientific foresight can
serve as a guarantee against serious blunders that neither contemporaries, nor
descendants will forgive us.
The question today is: either we
shall give in to emotions, to group interests, to personal ambitions and lead
the Congress away from solving the most acute problems in the political,
economic and moral-spiritual spheres, or else, proceeding from the real conditions,
from objective analysis, shall elaborate a program of helping the country out
of the crisis, map out concrete ways to realise it in
practice. We must remember that the voters, all the Soviet people expect
no resounding speeches, no promises, no lightweight slogans from us, but
weighted, well considered, constructive decisions.3
The
personal pronoun “we” (in various forms) and the possessive pronoun “our” appear
in the quoted passage nine times. In seven cases they refer to participants in
the Congress; in two cases (“our multinational state” and “the realities
of our life”) “the people” (“the nation”) are implied. It is noteworthy
that the former of the two meanings occurs in the sentences, in which “we” and
“our” have already been used in the latter, viz. “the deputies”. The resulting
“interference” creates prerequisites for an involuntary identification of the
two meanings and, hence, of the deputy corps and the masses of people, despite
the fact that the sentence concluding the quotation would clearly counterpose the former and the latter.
In
the remaining part of the text in question4 the word “we” and its derivatives are
encountered 21 times; in addition to that, on one occasion the pronoun has been
omitted, apparently for stylistic reasons, as the Russian grammar would allow
(in the respective extract this will be shown in brackets and italicised). The meanings thereof are distributed as
follows (the numbers in parentheses refer to the fragment’s position in the
sequence given below):
(1)
In three cases “we” indicates the deputy corps and/or the Congress: “Among [the
problems] of top priority, that the voters particularly expect us to
solve, ... is the provision of pensions to war and labour
veterans, to collective farmers...” (15); “To the address of our
Congress... many letters and telegrams arrive” (23); “Let [us] be equal to the
crucial tasks, let [us] justify the expectations and the confidence the people
have in us” (31; non-italicised pronouns are
put into brackets to accentuate their absence from the respective Russian expression;
however, the verb is in the form that indicates the same person as in English).
(2)
“The people” (“the nation”, “the society”, “the country”) are implied on seven
occasions: “The radical perestroika of all sides of our life has
literally revolutionised the situation in the
country” (10); “In recent years radical transformations appeared in our
political system” (11); “The situation we are in is complicated,
sometimes critical” (12); “The problems that face us now are a great
many” (14); “They [the attacks on the party] are to be considered as striving
to use the rostrum of the Congress for demoralising,
dividing our society, the party” (27); “To deprive the party of its
leading role in our society, to tear it away from the people is to
render the perestroika lifeless” (28); “The present, extremely
complicated stage of our society’s development calls for a tight
consolidation of powers of the whole deputy corps” (30).
(3)
In three instances “we” refers to party (political and/or administrative) elite:
“In our opinion, the way suggested will not only prevent [our] solving
the food problem, but will, on the contrary, aggravate it” (20; the pronoun in
brackets is again absent from the Russian original); “And we do not
understand whence the attempts, here at the Congress, too, to revise, under the
pretext of democratisation, the role of the Party,
which Clause Six of the Constitution of the USSR defines as that of the leading
and guiding force of the Soviet society” (26). The instance of the omitted pronoun
falls in this category, too: “[We] would consider it advisable...” (18;
for context, see extract 17 below).
(4)
The pronoun is once used to indicate “the local population”: “In our
region... environmental problems are particularly acute and urgent” (21).
(5)
Finally, we come across eight instances when “we” may be interpreted in
different ways.
(a)
Of these, three instances refer either to “the people”, or to “the party
elite”: “Only then shall we be able to meet the country’s requirements
in diverse and high-quality food products, when rural toilers are ensured
conditions of work, of private life and of leisure that were not worse,
perhaps, even better than those of the urban [workers]” (19); “We need,
while strengthening kolkhozes and sovkhozes [collective
and state farms] in every possible way, to develop – reasonably, on the
economic basis, everywhere – lease relations in the countryside” (21); “We
ought to consolidate the discipline of soldiers and officers, enhance their
prestige” (25).
(b)
Four instances may be interpreted to refer either to “the party elite”, or to
“the deputies”: “Today at the Congress we ought to give guidance to the
broad working masses, that economic growth is no palace revolution, it cannot
be achieved in an hour” (13); “If we put them [the measures suggested]
rigorously into effect, the people will accept them with gratitude” (16); “Lest
our words and deeds should be at variance, ... [we] would consider
it advisable to establish a special commission within the USSR Supreme Soviet
for coordination and control” (17, including the subsequent extract 18); “And we
must resolutely assert today that these barely masked [literally: “sewn white”]
and vain attempts are doomed to fail completely” (29).
(c)
Finally, the pronoun may once be understood to stand either for “(local) party
elite”, or for “local population”: “We think that in Moscow Region... it
is no longer possible to allot land for collective gardens and kitchen-gardens”
(24). For all that matters, this may as well be included in category (5a). It
is also noteworthy that whenever “we” and/or “our” allow for different
interpretations, one of the alternative referents is invariably that of “party
elite”.
Arranged
in the order they appear in the text, the pronouns will show the following
sequence (we have added the first nine instances to make the picture complete):
D = D = P = D = P = D =
D = D = D – P – P – P – D/E – P = D =
= D/E –
D/E = [E] – P/E – E = P/E – L – D = L/E – P/E – E –
P = P = = D/E = P = D,
where
“D” stands for “deputies”; “E”, for “elite”; “P”, for “the people”; “L”, for
“local population”; slants separate various interpretations of the same
pronoun; signs of equality (=) connect pairs of pronouns that occur in
adjacent sentences; underlined are pronouns that occur within the same
sentence. These two categories have been highlighted, since they present the
most spectacular “switches” of meanings.
The
above inquiry allows us to delineate two main means of the meaning affiliation.
One is alternation which refers to the consecutive use of pronouns “we”
and/or “our” in two or more different senses, thus bringing about a more or
less unconscious identification of the meanings and, consequently, of the
social entities the respective notions stand for. The first two paragraphs of
the analysed text (quoted in full) are a good
illustration of the trick. In the subsequent paragraphs “we” and its
derivatives are no longer used in different meanings within the same sentence.
The only exception is the sentence containing the phrase with the pronoun
omitted (extracts 17 and 18); this indicates “the party elite” and follows the
instance that allows for two different interpretations: “the deputies” or “the
party elite”. Besides, on four occasions the pronouns occur with different
meanings in sentences that immediately follow each other: extracts 14-15-16
(P = D = D/E), 20-21 (E = P/E), 23-24 (D = L/E) and
27-28-29-30-31 (P = P = D/E = P = D).
However,
this somewhat diminished pressure is more than recompensed by frequent use of
another, no less effective, device. This is ambivalence which enables
one to achieve a similar result by using the pronouns in the context that would
allow for two or more different interpretations of their meaning. The audience
is left uncertain as to which particular meaning the speaker has had in mind.
It is forced to waver between the alternatives, thus involuntarily drawing them
nearer and, perhaps, together. The ruse seems to provide for even deeper
inter-diffusion of meanings and, hence, closer identification of the respective
notions, than alternation.
Another
striking feature of the analysed text is the careful
avoidance of personal pronouns (or, for that matter, of any names these
pronouns might stand for) whenever “mistakes” or “failures” of the Party
leadership are referred to.5 Use of impersonal pronouns (“this has led
to”), passive voice (“many errors have been committed”) and reflexive verbs
(lost in the English translation: “development toward pluralism... has been
accompanied by inability”, “aspiration... has met with powerful resistance...
and in the long run ended in disbalance”), as well as
monotonous recurrence of abstract verbal nouns (“transformations”, “revival”,
“becoming”, “development”, “inability”, “aspiration”, “resistance”,
“worsening”; eight instances in only six sentences!) serve to overcome the
stylistic problems created and, more important still, to destroy the
spontaneous association between the subject, implicated but never indicated
(“we” as “the party elite”), and the displaced predicate (“our” actions and
their consequences).
The
trick may be interpreted in two ways. It may be seen as an attempt to relieve
the party leadership of responsibility for the “failures” and “mistakes”
alluded to, showing the latter as caused by interplay of some spontaneous,
impersonal or, at least, alien, albeit unnamed, forces. Or it might have been
motivated by a desire to distance oneself from the leadership without declaring
open war on them. But why not come out into the open? After all it was to
condemn their policy, that the whole passage was written.
One
should, however, take into account that open criticism of the reformers would
imply breaking away from them. In that case “we” could no longer imply “party
leadership”; in the context it would stand for “opponents to the reforms”. Open
conversion of some members of the party elite to opposition to the party’s
official leadership would have signified collapse of the myth of the
inner-party unity. That, in turn, would have challenged the basic myth of the
Soviet political culture, viz. the unity of the (infallible) party and the
people. After so drastic a step to preserve both myths intact one would have
had to brand the leaders of perestroika as an anti-party and, hence,
anti-popular clique. If the author was not inclined or prepared to go that far,
the mentality of sobornost’ would make
him avoid saying “we” in the context that hinted on serious discord in the
party elite. This “figure of omittance” would allow
one to pass between Scylla and Charybdis: to condemn
the presumably disastrous policy of the leadership and thus register one’s
disagreement with it, on the one hand, while pretending to preserve perfect
confidence in the unity of the party ranks as an integral and most important
component of the basic myth about the people and its party, on the other.
However,
both interpretations of the device in question presuppose, rather than
preclude, each other: the party ought to be relieved of the fault anyway, even
if by demonstrating the “anti-party” character of its present-day leadership.
Voicing disagreement would then indicate that “wholesome forces” are still to
be found in the party.
Patterns of Self-Identification
The
time is ripe to point out that this analysis proceeds from the assumption that
it is only natural for a speaker to identify with his audience, such
identification providing him with an indispensable rhetoric means of
persuasion. Since the object of identification is on the spot, and saying “we”
is the easiest way to identify with it, there is hardly a speaker that could do
without the word. Similar observations will apply to habitual combinations of words
and standard expressions like “our country”. One may conclude henceforth that
it might prove hasty to attempt to make any specific inferences on the basis of
such usage. But the more cautious one has to be on these occasions, the more
illuminating may attachment of other meanings to these pronouns (and, hence,
occurrence of other referents) prove. Not only will combinations like “our
life” or “our people” be more expressive emotionally as compared to “our
country”, but identification of self with a social body or social group
different from the audience is certainly both more dramatic and more binding
than identification with those immediately present.
This
taken into account, one will be right to assume that interpolations of “we” in
the sense of “those present” (“deputies” in our case) in the context where it
stands for other objects of identification, too, as well as the specific
devices and circumstances of such interpolations, will be characteristic of the
particular speaker’s (author’s) understanding of the relationship between the
two entities. On the contrary, systematic use of “we” and/or “our” in only one
sense will allow us to judge on the extent to which the particular person
identifies with the given entity (that is on his appraisal of his social status
as of one belonging to that entity), but will scarcely be informative of his
understanding of the entity itself. In N. Petrushenko’s
speech (delivered at the fourth sitting) pronouns “we” and “our” are
encountered 26 times; of these 20 imply “deputies” (in general), three refer to
a particular “group of deputies”, on two instances the pronoun may be
interpreted in two ways: either as “deputies” in general, or as “a group of
deputies”. On 25 occasions out of 26 (that is almost invariably) the pronoun
would represent “the deputies”; only once the people (or, rather, the country)
is implied: “our multinational Union”.6
The
speech (undelivered) of L. Sukhov, a driver from
Kharkov, yields an entirely different picture.7 “We” is used in two different senses; the
distribution is almost equal. Out of 34 instances 17 refer to “deputies”; 12,
to “the people”; two, to “drivers” (a professional group to which the author
belongs and which he is evidently inclined to regard as representative of “the
people” at large); three cases are ambivalent and may be interpreted as either
“deputies”, or “the people”. This pattern of meanings’ variation is indicative
of a close relationship that exists or, if interpreted normatively, ought to
exist between “the deputies” and “the people”. There are no hints, however,
that similar relationship exists for “the people” and “the political elite”.
Nor are there any attempts to identify the deputies, including himself, with
the latter. The author’s vision of political representation is thus clearly
anti-elitist, which may, incidentally, be regarded as an indirect indication of
a negative attitude toward professional parliamentarism.
One would not be surprised to meet the author among the sturdiest opponents of
“idle talk”.
The
beliefs the text in question seems to expose would, on the whole, conform to
the model of representation characteristic of the culture of sobornost’. However, statements that suggest
clear perception of acute social tensions might seem to contradict this
conclusion, even though the perception is hardly generalised
and the tensions are viewed in the light of “everyday disorders”:
What kind of economic
mechanism is this, if some people have two-storey dachas built for them,
while others cannot get [construction] materials to make their regular homes comfortable? Some spent 20 to 25 years trying to have a telephone
installed, despite their priority rights; others, who are themselves 20 to 25
years old, enjoy the privilege without complications. Some run from one queue
to another like madmen, trying to get the necessities; others follow them with
insolent smiles and enjoy the goods without trouble.8
But,
contradictory though these allegations of social inequality may be to the type
of mentality pivoted on the notion of sobornost’,
they would fit the anti-elitist mode thereof. The apparent solution for this
contradiction would be to discriminate between the “factual” and the “proper”,
between “is” and “should”. Hence the following paradoxical demand: “To my mind,
our deputy corps must become like a single monolith, but should not turn
into unprincipled compromisers”.9
This
anti-elitist stand is not likely to be shared by those who belong or reckon
themselves as belonging to the political elite, of course. It is not surprising
then that the text of V. Mironenko’s
(undelivered) speech reveals a pattern that is significantly different from the
one exemplified by L. Sukhov’s speech. There are
35 instances of “we” and “our” in V. Mironenko’s
text, of which 12 refer to “deputies”; nine, to “the people”; four, to “the
elite”; one, to “the Komsomol deputies”; and nine
(almost a quarter of the total) allow for different interpretations. “Elite” is
invariably one of the alternatives again: on three occasions it is associated
with “deputies” (besides, each of the two categories can be expanded by adding
in the “Komsomol deputies”); on six occasions, with
“the people”. The pattern is essentially the same as in the (undelivered)
speech of V. Mesyats. It is also noteworthy that
of the four instances that convey the meaning of “political elite”, two refer
directly to “those in power”, while the remaining two are apparently more
general and imply “those actively involved in politics”. However, the latter
are marginal interpretations, permissible, but not characteristic of the
author’s pattern of understanding, since the instances do not belong to his own
text, but are encountered in a quotation (from M. Gorky). The fact is also
revealing that it is only in two out of nine instances implying “the people”,
that the possessive pronoun “our” is used in “neutral” (emotionally uncharged)
combinations: “our new Constitution” and “our mass media”. In
most cases the author opts for “we”, and the context is usually “tense”: “We
are being drawn into a vicious circle”; “We have suffered of
incompetence so much”, and so on; or “Our economy is literally crying”;
“Our army must never...”.10
If
we now compare V. Mironenko’s address with that
of Academician A. Sakharov, the difference in
usage of the pronouns will be apparent. The personal pronoun “we” and the
possessive pronoun “our” are used by A. Sakharov
on 18 occasions. Of these, 12 refer to “deputies” (in general) and one implies
“deputies from Moscow”; one more case (“on this... our position will
depend”) allows for two interpretations: “our” may mean “of the (entire) deputy
corps”, or “of the Moscow group of deputies”; four instances refer to “the
people” and/or “the country”. Characteristic of the speaker’s non-populist
mentality is the fact that “the people” are implied only once (“We are
going through a revolution”), while the three remaining instances presented by
the “neutral” expression “our country” (the standard Russian equivalent for the
English “this country”).11
A
similar picture is revealed by G. Popov’s
address. Pronouns “we” and “our” occur in it 19 times. On three occasions they
are used to refer to “the people” (“our perestroika”) or, rather, to
“the country” (“the logic of our Constitution”, this dispassionate
expression encountered twice). By contrast, “deputies” are meant on 16
occasions, only six of which refer to the deputy corps in general, while nine
(almost half of the total number) stand for the Moscow group of deputies, the
nucleus of the emerging opposition. The remaining instance refers to the
deputies who attended a meeting to have taken place the previous day. The least
informative meanings excluded, “we” appears to stand almost invariably for
something close to a political faction. Like identification with a political
party, or a social group, or a stratum, this is characteristic of the pluralist
political culture12.
The
above analysis of the parliamentary rhetoric seems to have revealed three
distinct patterns of deputies’ self-identification (and political behaviour) to be associated with different models of
political representation based, in turn, on different visions of social
reality. One may be called “parliamentarism”,
if the emphasis is on the models of representation, or “pluralist democracy”,
when expressed in terms of political culture. This is based on the “pluralist”
vision of society, as consisting of various social groups, characterised
by diverse interests and often in conflict with each other. Identifying with
the society as a whole (or with the people taken together) would, as a rule,
make little sense for those who think in this way. In their case identification
is either purely situational (with those immediately present or directly
relevant), or else is with a particular social group and/or a political party
(not in the “one-party” sense of the word, that has long been customary in the
Soviet Union, of course) or faction, inasmuch as the latter are believed to
represent the former.
Sobornost’ may be seen as a model of political representation, alternative to parliamentarism. Unlike the former, the mentality of sobornost’ facilitates (indeed, requires)
identification of self (and, normatively, of the entire deputy corps) with “the
people”. The rhetoric characteristic of the populist version of sobornost’ resembles that of the pluralist democracy, making
it sometimes difficult to distinguish between the two types of political
culture. Both are likely to appeal to the people’s will and declare the rule
of, by, and for the people as their ultimate goal. The underlying models of
social reality, however, are entirely different.
Communist fundamentalism, as the third style of political behaviour to
become manifest at the Congress might be defined, tends to engage in rhetoric
different from that of the populism, although their patterns of
pre-understanding remain basically the same. Both endorse the model of
political representation defined here as sobornost’.
The difference between the populist and the elitist varieties
lies in the extent to which the initial traditional pattern and the later
Bolshevik additions have become separated in the course of the crisis, that
afflicted the Soviet regime, undermined the system-building belief in the
sagacity of the ruling party, and caused alienation of the political elite from
common citizens and deterioration of the established patterns of political
interaction.
We
hope this will demonstrate how analysis of political discourse may help
reconstruct models of social reality and social activities shared by the given society.
The principal advantage of the above approach lies in the protection against
deliberate distortions it provides. This is due to the fact that the practice
of discourse remains almost out of one’s conscious control, but rather becomes
part of the person’s spontaneous behaviour. You
hardly ever stop to deliberate whether and when you should say “I” or “we”;
your use of the words becomes semi-automatic like your use of grammar. But the
way you do it is indicative of the knowledge structures that are part of the
political culture you belong to.
Evolution
of the perestroika political discourse has made it obvious. New
circumstances made people talk of new realities, but the new wine was put in
old skins. To abandon an established practice of discourse has proved a painful
enterprise. Even those who, like members of the democratic opposition at the
USSR Congress of People’s Deputies, would hardly be suspected of consciously
adhering to the old political culture seem to find it much easier to discuss
new things in the old language, thus perpetuating the ontological assumptions
it is based on. And this allows us to cherish reasonable hopes for the
development of new methods of analysis of social consciousness – more objective
and more reliable than or, at least, enabling us to probe into areas
inaccessible to the traditional public opinion polls.
1 See Pervy
S’ezd narodnykh deputatov SSSR: Stenografichesky Otchyot [The First Congress of the USSR People’s Deputies:
The Proceedings, henceforth First Congress] (in Russian), vol.1-6,
Moscow: Izdatel’stvo Verkhovnogo
Soveta SSSR, henceforth referred to as First
Congress.
2 See Dr. Sergeyev’s paper “The Idea of Democracy in the West and in
the East” prepared for this workshop. Both, Dr. Sergeyev’s
and the present paper, are based on the findings obtained in the course of a
research project on “Institutional Development in the USSR during Perestroika”
fulfilled in 1991-1992 at the Analytic Centre for Problems of Social/Economic
and Scientific/Technological Developments, Russian Academy of Sciences. These
findings have been summarized in our book Demokratiya
i sobornost’: Stanovlenie predstavitel’nykh institutov v SSSR (Democracy and Sobornost’:
Genesis of Representative Institutions in the USSR, in Russian, Moscow: Istoricheskoe nasledie,
forthcoming). A revised version of the book is to be published in English by
Edward Elgar Publishing Ltd. as Russia’s Road to
Democracy: Parliament, Communism and Traditional Culture. For preliminary
publications, see N. Birjukow, W. Sergejew, “Die B?rde der Tradition” (“The Burden of Tradition”, in German) in
M. Harms, P. Linke (Eds.), ?berall Klippen: Inner- und Au?enpolitische Gegebenheiten Ru?lands (Berlin: Verlag Volk und
Welt), S. 81-103 and N. Biryukov, V. Sergeyev,
“Parliamentarianism and Sobornost’: Two Models
Representative Institutions in Russian Political Culture” in Discourse and
Society, vol.4 (1), pp.57-74.
3 Text
of V. Mesyats’s undelivered address (First
Congress, vol.5, pp.316-317, italics added). V. Mesyats
was then First Secretary of the Moscow Regional Party Committee.
4 Ibid,
First Congress, vol.5, pp.317-322 (italics added).
5 First
Congress, vol.5, p.318.
6 First
Congress. vol.1, pp.286-289 (italics added). N. Petrushenko
was a political instructor (lieutenant-colonel) from Eastern Kazakhstan, later
to become a prominent member of the conservative “Soyuz’ (“Union”) faction.
7 Text
of L. Sukhov’s undelivered address (First
Congress, vol.6, pp.252-255).
8 First
Congress, vol.6, pp.253-254.
9 First
Congress, vol.6, p.252 (italics added).
10 First
Congress, vol.5, pp.344-350 (italics added). V. Mironenko
was then First Secretary of the Komsomol Central
Committee.
11 First
Congress, vol.1, pp.9-11 (italics added).
12 First
Congress, vol.1, pp.11-13. G. Popov was
Professor of Economics at the Moscow University. He was subsequently elected Mayor of
Moscow.