Tag Archives: Poulantzas

Looking in the Crystal Ball, Shattering the Crystal State

I was in Rome listening to some expert takes on late Putinism last week. One presentation was memorable for its thesis that Putin himself is a victim of his own success in removing any possible successors and that as a result his ‘model’ does not have the capacity to ‘reproduce personnel’ who could step comfortably into a leading position when Putinism ends. The beginning of the end of Putinism occurs at the moment when the idea that he can no longer effectively moderate between elites starts to diffuse down the hierarchy and even enters the rank and file.

A second speaker pushed this further: the system enters a dangerous grey zone between personalistic rule and figurehead status; in navigating this zone, everyone must be mindful of frustrated security services actors who cannot be controlled post-Putin because there will be a vacuum of authority. Putin’s personalistic approach is unravelling because there are too many figures within the wider security services (as opposed to the FSO) who do not see a pathway to promotion or meaningful increases in their power while the leader focuses only on the loyalty of a few who guarantee his immediate personal security. This is a degrading of the regime, analogous to what anthropologists call amoral familism, at the expense of genuine corporatism (where a functionary’s identity is tied to his loyalty to an organization, but where he also has the knowledge that his organization has a recognized territory within the state).

These initial two presentations chimed with a third, even more pessimistic one, that saw the war leading to ‘Maduro-ization’ of the state – again, a form of degraded personalism where there can be no loyalty, only the division of a smaller and smaller pie.

Now, these were short presentations, so it would be unfair to accuse them of crystal-ball gazing. Nonetheless as I was listening, I was struck by how theory-light discussions can become. There was plenty of interpretation based on networks, functional organizational analysis, and so on. But what about reviewing some perfectly serviceable political theory of the decomposition of dictatorships that we have had lying around since 1978?

I wrote about Poulantzas’ relevance to Russia just before the invasion and made some quite decent predictions. In short, one insight is that under authoritarian statism, the executive is inevitably as much hostage to conflicting societal and political interests as it is an arbiter, especially when it doesn’t have a coherent or consistent ideology. As Stuart Hall pointed out in his review of Nicos Poulantzas in 1978, theories of ‘authoritarian statism’ need to be complemented by considering how a state works with ‘authoritarian populism’ – though the absence of the latter could explain the fundamental weakness of Putinism, and its rapid degeneration in wartime.

Strictly speaking, Poulantzas kept his analysis of the Greek junta and the Cinquième République apart: authoritarian statism was where the normal French capitalist state was heading, while the Greek junta was an ‘exceptional’ state, built once ‘normal’ forms of coercion had broken down. Putinism began in a situation not so dissimilar to ‘normal authoritarian statism’, and has been stumbling towards exceptionalism since 2012, and hurtling since 2022 – and this is what makes it brittle. Obviously, Russia in 2020, 2022, and 2026 is more like the junta than Cinquième République. And the junta fell in 1974’s Μεταπολίτευση, after factional splits and a counter coup by the military police. Open dysfunction and the Cyprus fiasco (foreign policy overreach, sounds familiar?) put the nails in the coffin.

Crystallization and condensation are key metaphors in Poulantzas. His study of the Greek junta and the French fifth republic taught him about ‘healthy’ re-condensation of forces in a capitalist state, and points of breakdown. Crystallization is not defined consistently but thinking about chemical metaphors we can propose it as a state of affairs where ‘re-condensation’ of forces is blocked. Putinism has crystallized so rigidly at the top that now any tensile application of real force to it will shatter it. Ian Bruff’s take on authoritarian statism was a Poulantzasian approach: beyond brute force against ‘dissenters’, institutional power is remoulded to insulate certain practices from critique or change (corruption, the war, austerity). Appeals to ‘necessity’ replace any kinds of ‘hegemonic aura’ (Ian Bruff’s reading).

Most scenario analyses of Russia like the ones I listened to operate with an essentially instrumentalist logic: the state is merely a machine to be operated by different agents, so the only important question is ‘who wins?’ Poulantzas would put it differently: what is the specific institutional form that has crystallized, and what are the objective contradictions within that form that make it vulnerable to decomposition/shattering regardless of who is at the top?

Russia is more like the Greek junta because the crystallization post-2020 is too unbalanced and too rigid: economic fractions have been completely subordinated, not ‘mobilized’ or used to reengine redistribution. The potential dominant bourgeois class is disorganized by the war. The military-security fractions are ascendant, but the balancing is gone; what were powerful state actors in their own right potentially crystallizing into firm institutional counterweights are now cowed by the actor-network effects of the FSB’s search for disloyalty and ‘corruption’. The popular classes are being told to suck up permanent emergency and isolation from the world. In turn, this signalling has feedback effects on all parts of the crystal – distrust, distrust and more distrust; no communication channels work for elites; stick your head up and the FSB will chop it off.

Poulantzas’ ‘isolation effect’ describes how the state turns the dominated into atomized individuals – voters, taxpayers, the little people – while organizing the dominant classes into a power bloc. That division of labour is rather the point of having a state. In Russia the atomization has boomeranging effects: it is now the elites who cannot talk to each other. Who is atomized now?

As the first and second speakers pondered – there is a Nazarbayev-with-Chekists option, but the window is closing. This is recrystallization as recomposition: Putin as symbolic arbiter, elite renewal, leeway to technocrats under the strict limits of an ‘FSB’-ization of the commanding heights of the state. The problem with this is that the ‘FSB’ (standing in for the security fraction as a whole) can only double down on neostalinist logic that results in ever-expanding circles of repression to ‘explain’ the broader political-economy failure of the Putinist model and its war. No coherent power bloc can exist in this model – which is why 1946-1953 was marked by paralysis.

Decomposition from within – an echo of the Greek junta model: internal contradictions among fractions became unmanageable. If the FSB, the military, Kiriyenko’s bloc, and the gerontocratic establishment cannot reach a new equilibrium, the system implodes under the incongruity of the state’s ‘relative autonomy’. As Carnegie wrote recently: Russia has “an operating apparatus without any internal autonomy”. The power blocs no longer recognize the state as something they answer for. The state bureaucracies no longer function as sites of delegated governance; they function as a threat to each fraction’s position. Security services demand wartime ‘discipline’ in the MIC which cannot be carried out. The military demands wartime economic rationing which the technocratic government cannot carry out. Moscow mayoralty demands exemption from martial law. And so on.

The Crystal shatters – unlikely but plenty of historical precedent and potential. The atomization of the population reaches a threshold where it produces spontaneous, non-organized resistance. Infrapolitics-to-politics of the street, uncivil society, Asef Bayat’s “non-movements,” etc. You don’t need a revolutionary subject to precipitate the transformation of a moribund system. For example, proximate causes might be groups of war veterans who see their benefits taken away and who constitute a new social force the state cannot incorporate into the existing hierarchy. The point is the initial trigger is not predictable and not even that important.

In a Poulantzas-inspired reading, a precondition for shattering would require much more naked repressive apparatus. Are we going in that direction? 2025 survey data (war exhaustion, majority favouring peace talks) is an early indicator: Isolation effects produce not compliance but a latent collective sentiment that the state’s institutional form has no channel to absorb. Detecting this ‘directly’ is difficult, showing the fundamental weakness in the interpretation of polling and one I rehearse a lot in my recent book. Whatever happens, events will ‘anticipate’, not lag, public opinion.

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Sidenote: Previously in this blog, and in my writings on Russia, I have tried to think about state theory and political economy by adapting the ‘strategic-relational approach’ of Bob Jessop, which itself is an update of Gramsci and Poulantzas (contra Miliband): the state is a ‘social relation’ and therefore if we study ‘political society’ we should use a much broader perspective. In parallel to discussions about political society, there’s a strand of critical political economy worth mentioning that considers the compatibility of authoritarianism and neoliberalism. This links people working on Hungary, Poland, the West and Russia. These include Dorit Geva, C. B. Tansel, Ilya Matveev, Adam Fabry, Ian Bruff and Stuart Shields. It’s ironic that in a scholarly field dominated by crystal-ball gazing there’s a mismatch between a focus on elite actors and state practices that holistically theorize authoritarianism beyond adjectival prefixing (electoral, personalist etc). And as Julian Waller points out, few are even interested in investigating authoritarian regimes on their own terms, so to speak.

If Russia invades Ukraine (again)

‘If there’s a war tomorrow’ with soldiers expressing support for sustaining the lifestyles of corrupt elites

This post focusses on the effect at home of a bigger military conflict between Russian and Ukraine. It can be summarised as ‘more of the same, except worse’. My two main points are this: Russians have been desensitised to conflict. Unfortunately, open warfare would not fundamentally change anything. Secondly, the many voices that condemn Russians for the absence of widespread anti-war protest show their ignorance – not only about the reality of life in Russia, but how their own societies would perform in analogous circumstances. In the final part I will come back to the question of effects on the Russian regime.

I make no predictions in the post. Full disclaimer: I was dismissive of the possibility of a Crimea annexation and Donbas conflict in 2014. I was wrong then. Now, I still want to believe that the Russian security elite is fundamentally calculatedly and collectively timorous – despite all the noisy bluster. Here’s a sober, sceptical take I liked, if not feeling qualified to endorse it.

Firstly, the much debated military confrontation itself. I’ve little to add here. The millions of words written about the forms an invasion, punitive expedition or intervention would take are enough already. I limit myself to some obvious points. 1. Ukraine east of the Dnipro is full of people – airstrikes and missile attacks short of invasion, even against known Ukrainian military positions, would still cause mass civilian casualties. The Donbas conflict in 2014-15 saw disproportionate civilian casualties from indirect artillery/rocket fire hitting built-up areas. This is horrific, terrifying, and almost as bad as the Chechen conflicts. 2. Full invasion/intervention: combined arms advances of this sort require expert and practised command and control even the ‘forever-war’ UK-US axis struggles with today. Look at the amount of confusion, chaos and friendly-fire deaths as a proportion of casualties in the Iraq wars. I wouldn’t underestimate the capacity of the Russian armed forces, but their officer class is still underpaid, undertrained and overall of poor quality (which is why I agree with Farkas at the end of this). Protective equipment used by average squaddies is not great. Russia’s record in dealing with quality opposition in urban warfare is woeful. Draw your own conclusions.

Back to Russia itself: we should connect the crackdown on all opposition in the last years to the securitization and partial gendarmization of the Russian state that would ensure continuity in the event of a widespread armed conflict and a Western response. This might seem obvious to close observers, but I write this in response to two misconceptions: that the widespread fear and lack of appetite for war among Russians could somehow translate into real protest and opposition (it couldn’t). Second, that Russians are willing accomplices (they’re not). I reject any strong comparisons to fascism and to the debate on collective guilt of Germans after WWII. I’ll come back to that in a minute.

What would happen in Russia? Initial but very limited panic expressed in stocking up on food, currency and supplies. Even without war, there have been completely random salt and sugar panics in the last fifteen years spread by word of mouth when people fear sudden hikes in prices during the ‘closing’ season in late summer when the (mainly) poor maniacally stock vegetable and fruit preserves for the winter. Inexplicably, sometimes there’s a matchbox panic. Local shops used to make a killing – here’s an example from 2006. Call it a reflex of collective memory.  It would pass very quickly – as others have pointed out, Ukraine has no military capacity to strike back beyond the conflict zone. Russians have panic-fatigue after years of sanctions, counter-sanctions and currency devaluation. There won’t be any ‘return to the land’ – the panic-planting of potatoes in kitchen gardens that historically was a barometer of social strife. Counter-sanctions have been very effective in developing domestic agriculture. Can the rouble fall any lower? Yes it can. Does it matter much now after a decade of stagnant or falling incomes? Maybe not.

In actual fact, there’s evidence that war ‘panic’ has already passed in Russia. Parts of the housing market have seized up completely since 2021 in anticipation of further currency devaluation. As has the used car market – now a store of ‘real’ value.

While the focus has been on arrests of political opposition, the politics of fear in Russia, as Guzel Yusupova calls it, goes much further, with public space in cities noticeably securitized since at least 2018. Things are better in the sticks where I live, but people still know not to draw too much attention to themselves if they have any reason to watch out for the police. And let’s face it, no one in their right mind wants to interact with the Russian police. However, I don’t want to overemphasise fear. It’s more discomfort, politically cognitive load and dissonance that incrementally increases year after year. It’s not a full-on police state, it’s not a dictatorship and it’s still not a fully-blown authoritarian state, but a Ukraine escalation would be an admission of the failure of the Putin project to sustain itself without resorting to an anachronistic Russian version of the última dictadura cívico militar. To be clear I’m not saying Russia would have a ‘dirty war’ on such a scale, but history can always rhyme: a declaration of emergency enables further and wider repression of any hint of opposition, further sidelining of even potential institutions, the removal from politics and the state of inconvenient fellow travellers that the paranoid elite would like to replace with clients. Under cover of emergency, widespread unpopular economic measures like wage freezes could be undertaken, as in Argentina. For a take on the wider polycrisis of Ukraine-Russia as a political economy story, Nick Trickett wrote this recently: “Arguing about Russia’s preponderance of military power is of the utmost humanitarian importance, but it misses the plain fact that the regime badly blundered if it thinks it can swallow a whale.” 

National Guard station in Southern Russia today

What would Russians think about the war? Well, like now, many people would be wholly ignorant, beyond knowing the basic media talking points from eight years of conflict (Ukrainian government is bad, etc). One thing that annoys me is the continuing assumption that, because Russians historically have consumed information via TV, they still do so, and that current affairs are particularly salient. Would we say this about our own societies? Both these ideas are out of date by at least 10 years. What we do know is that Russians do not, on the whole, think Ukrainians are an inferior people to be subjugated. They don’t think they are ‘nazis’, and, well, they don’t think much about them at all, to be honest. I doubt a much bigger war would change that. Yes, a small minority are performatively outraged by ‘colour revolutions’ and the ‘CIA plot that was Maidan’, but these are a particular subsection of a subsection of middle-aged men who have too much time on their hands. I don’t deny there was a rally-round-the-flag effect in 2014-15 with the annexation of Crimea, but that was a long time ago now, and, as I commented recently, most Russians have conflicted feelings now about Crimean incorporation. A false flag operation to justify further intervention would not have even a fraction of the effect of the propaganda from eight years ago, such as the false story of Ukrainians crucifying children which is still visible on Channel One’s site, or the reports of a ‘genocide’ of thousands of Donbas residents, published by the Russian government newspaper. Of course that doesn’t mean the awesome arsenal that is mainstream Russian TV media won’t be enrolled in a military-jingoistic propaganda campaign. Parts of it have been almost continually at it since 2014.

Denis Volkov of Levada writes in Ridl of an apparent consensus in Russia about fear of war, blame of the West, and expectation of escalation.  However, his conclusion that Russian public opinion is ‘homogeneous’ suffers from the typical salience problems of polling and focus groups (when moderators say: ‘X is in the news, what do you think?’). Others have recently pointed out that Russians, when not prompted to talk about geopolitics, are much more likely to talk about domestic issues. To be fair to Volkov, he admits this – people have fatigue about Ukraine, confrontation and are not genuinely interested. Volkov says because they’re not fully engaged they therefore accept the narrative of NATO encirclement. I would disagree here. In reality one encounters a lot more diversity in opinion about Russia’s neighbour as one gets further in time away from 2014. This, in case I need to spell it out, is a good thing. At ‘worst’ one could say there is ‘resignation’ in Russia that war is possible but this resignation is a product of the complete political powerlessness of the majority.

Nicos Poulantzas wrote about the rise of authoritarian statism in the Western democracies in the 1970s. While direct comparisons to Russia today are as open to criticism as my Argentinian junta ones, I want you to indulge me a moment longer. Poulantzas’ point was that crisis tends towards forms of state authoritarianism that do not need open repression, but act via the state apparatus in an insidious, creeping way. There is a retreat of the rule of law because of bureaucratic power (or juridical preemptive policing ‘with the law and against the law’), but this is not fascism, there is no ‘break’ and Poulantzas writes in opposition to Foucauldian version of power effects. Further, these forms of authoritarian statism see the executive as much as hostage (to conflicting interests among the elite) as arbiter.

While writing mainly about the French Fifth Republic, Poulantzas has some sobering observations about executives that attempt a monopolistic ‘super apparatus’ with Bonapartist pretensions. Homogenization of the state tends to backfire, as do shifts towards plebiscitary manipulation; contradictions between economic interests are exacerbated, indeed, some negative economic processes of consolidation may accelerate; the ‘masses’ are not integrated (partly because politics is replaced by a single party centre*), and pernicious networks like security interests are ‘crystalized’  in a permanent structure in parallel to the official state. Poulantzas, though he died in 1979, was remarkably prescient about the direction of western democracies. My point is that we should be on the one hand more sensitive to Russian foreign policy as a symptom of domestic crisis in Russia, and on the other that Russia is not an ‘exceptional’ (i.e. fascist) state and is subject to the same cyclical tendency to towards crisis in the power bloc.

Bob Jessop has a critical update to Poulantzas and Stuart Hall here that underlies much of my own thinking about how under Putin, Russia developed a form of authoritarian neoliberal statism. You can read my open access piece on that topic here. Unlike my argument that Russia is a kind of vanguard neoliberal state, Jessop prefers tracing historical neoliberal regime shifts rather than ‘varieties’ or global neoliberal logics. My final point here is that Ukraine has the potential to accelerate conjunctural tendencies in the Russian state at home, as much as influence Ukrainian and European geopolitics.

*hello there, British politics, and welcome to the cartel party era!