Among the “mind viruses” that have taken hold in the Ukrainian mind, there are quite respectable and well-deserved ones. For example, the Fear Virus. It, like AIDS, has many strains, and, again like this disease, leads to the most varied external manifestations. Anticipating criticism, I will immediately note that, of course, the Fear Virus lives in each of us, and often it is even necessary for our own good. Here we will talk about something else—about its pathogenic effect.
Again, not claiming to embrace the infinite, let us focus on at least the political manifestations of this highly respected virus.
Hereditary
What can we say, Ukrainians do have historical grounds for fear. However, upon closer examination of the histories of other peoples, even European ones, the sufferings we so love turn out not to be so unique after all, but nevertheless, they have the right to exist. The Soviet Union alone with its policy of exterminating its own people and, as a rule, its best representatives is enough for such grounds to be considered valid.
True, this issue too has its share of viruses; in particular, the virus of “genetic memory” actively multiplies and speculates on derivatives here. This is a purely journalistic invention, a journalistic hyperbole, which at some point suddenly turned into almost a scientifically proven fact. In other words, many for some reason believe that the fear of the powerful “sits in the genetic memory” of Ukrainians. Science neither proves nor refutes this because it is nonsense. Fear “sits” not in genes; it sits in the culture of Ukrainians—that is the truth. Anticipating questions from readers who confuse culture with embroidered shirts and embroidered towels, I will say that we are talking about behavioral patterns that are transmitted “with mother’s milk.” A child sees, for example, how his father, so formidable a minute ago, suddenly begins to grovel before some fool in uniform or a portly uncle in a jacket. He remembers these moments as behavioral guides, and there’s nothing to be done about it. True, unlike “genetic memory,” which condemns one to dull powerlessness and dull inaction, it is easy to shed cultural inheritance. For this, one simply needs a) to know that such mechanisms exist, b) to behave with dignity in any situation.
Totalitarianism. “They” and “I”
In what some call the “social unconscious,” the Fear Virus lives in several varieties. Let us focus on at least two main ones. The first has its roots in totalitarianism. I have already had occasion to write about the amazing paradox of totalitarianism, which all those suffering from nostalgia for the USSR persistently fail to notice—both elderly and, what is more surprising, even young people. They all whine about “comradely mutual aid” and other blessings that allegedly existed in Soviet times, forgetting that totalitarianism eliminated every independent and self-generated “we.” Those who lived in the USSR, I think, will understand me. For those who did not live there, I will explain. In the USSR, every person was a unit of some collective, and as a rule—multiple collectives. Workshop, department, housing committee, house committee, trade union, society of drowning persons at resorts, etc., not counting October Young Pioneers, Komsomol, and the Party. It was impossible to wriggle out of participation in these organizations (except for privileged ones, like the Party). So it would seem that a certain “we” existed, and even in abundance. But the paradox is that this “we” was a tool for achieving the Higher Goal and, in essence, for suppressing every “I.” Those who served as Komsomol organizers and other public activists in the USSR will not let me lie—initiative “from below” was, to put it mildly, not encouraged. Using the organization “as intended” was rarely possible. Instead, public organizations were actively used for pressure on their members and for conducting “Party policy.” In other words, the Soviet person was a lonely and defenseless creature; he lived in a world where there was only his little “I” and the almighty, omnipotent, and nameless “they.” The “we” necessary for cooperation and solving various everyday tasks was completely absent as an institution. Instead, it was present in ordinary, informal life—they befriended each other readily then, gathered in large companies—this is true. True, such things happen now too, so there’s nothing much to complain about here, but that’s another topic.
By the way, it is interesting that the breakup of the USSR began precisely with these numerous public organizations. When the communists had already drunk their fill of blood and calmed down a bit, it turned out that things were not going very well and something needed to be done. Then “perestroika” arose, and it began exactly with the fact that public organizations were allowed to engage in what they formally existed for. This is what destroyed the communists.
So: The fear of this loneliness and the powerlessness of “I” before “they” was always present. True, it was actively repressed, substituted, and so on and so forth. The Soviet Union worked as a bad psychotherapist of the most die-hard Freudian sort, telling everyone that in reality everything was fine with us. The results of this work were sometimes astonishing. For example, a state was achieved in which thinking about certain things simply did not occur. The mind just refused to work in this direction; the brain simply switched off. Here is a simple example. Communists teach us that everything in the world is dialectical and constantly changing, new forms replace obsolete ones. At the same time, their communism self-proclaimed itself as the final point of human development. Well, isn’t that gibberish? So here’s a simple question: “what will come after communism?"—never occurred to anyone. That is, it may have occurred, but the mind pretended not to be acquainted with it, and besides, it’s not even a question, just some unknown person walking around here. Thus, the Soviet person was happy, cheerful, well-fed, and shod, but I would not be able to call him mentally healthy. Fear lay at the very foundation of this person’s existence.
Democracy. “I” or “They”?
The second variety of our Virus is a direct descendant of the first. When direct coercion disappeared from the political arsenal and, worse still, elections of various bosses appeared, the relationship between “I” and “they” changed somewhat. Now it came to be believed that authorities exist to feed, clothe, and in every way gratify the workers, and in return, the workers should elect them.
This transformation created a new variety of the Virus. This variety makes a person believe that only he alone understands what is happening, is a patriot of Ukraine, and knows exactly how to end the crisis. Two things hinder him—the same old “they” at the top, and other “they,” sometimes called “our people” at the bottom.
“We” still did not arise, and “They” became diffuse and lost the strict outlines of “dear Leonid Ilyich, the Party, and the government.” At the same time, “they” are now not omnipotent, not terrifying and awful; now “they” are the embodiment of all vices and the object of mockery and harassment of our proud “I.” The only trouble is that there are too many of these “they,” “they” surround “I” everywhere, and all this “I” can do is smile and spread its hands.
One can say that an interesting political-social model has formed in Ukraine. It has “-cracy,” that is, power with its eternally youthful and carefree elite, but there is no demos, that is, there are no citizens. Both “-cracy” and demos, when asked why it is so uncomfortable to live here, now point to “them.” It’s all “their” fault. No one, however, knows exactly who these “they” are. This modified Soviet fear is called the fear of freedom, the fear of responsibility for one’s fate and the fate of one’s country.
A Simple Mantra
Interestingly, this Virus is nevertheless slowly being cured. I remember this form to this day, which led a normal healthy person suddenly, out of the blue, to begin muttering “those ones have already plundered enough, others will come, they will start again.” This incantation was repeated by everyone, from the young to the old, in the elections of 1994. Then it disappeared somewhere, as it became clear that “plundering” was impossible. Then it blazed brightly and gleamed joyfully for several years—the desperate “what can one person do.” It faded greatly and shriveled when these very “ones,” voluntarily and without prior arrangement, went out to the Maidan and were amazed at their numbers. Now the Virus exists in the form of “with our people it is impossible to…"—insert here whatever exactly. I hear this from politicians, political scientists, bankers, journalists, taxi drivers, random fellow travelers, grandmothers at the entrance, and even thugs, if you have a heartfelt conversation with them. That is, personally he understands everything, personally he is for all that is good, but with our people it is impossible.
I simply cannot find these people. I so want to meet them. Very much.
Oh, yes, I did promise a mantra. When you feel the urge to say something about the people with whom it is “impossible,” stand before a mirror and repeat “with our people… with me… it is impossible. He… meaning, I… am stupid. He will steal… meaning, I will steal. He… meaning, me… does not understand… He… meaning, me… needs only a stick…” and so on, according to your imagination. Look directly into your own eyes, breathe evenly, feet shoulder-width apart. It helps.