I think I won’t be wrong in saying that most Ukrainians are preoccupied with the question “when will this end?” Although each person means something different by “this,” Ukrainians are united in their rejection of the existing reality. Yet in the surrounding world, there are quite a few societies that live much more poorly than Ukrainians and generally face far more significant hardships—nevertheless, these people do not consider themselves as unhappy as Ukrainians consider themselves, nor do they ask each other “when will all this end?”
In the language of social sciences attempting to study society, such a state of affairs means that Ukraine has serious problems with the “social contract” and, consequently, with the legitimacy of the state. This, in turn, can lead to the state’s ceasing to exist, since a state exists only as long as its subjects believe in it. Once faith disappears—the state disappears too. The classic example is the fate of the USSR, which died as soon as citizens became convinced that “isolated deficiencies” were not just a widespread phenomenon but a property of the system itself.
Therefore, “ending” all of this can happen in the most unexpected way at the most inopportune moment. This means that to imagine how events will develop, one sometimes needs to inquire how things stand with the social contract.
Of course, such a contract has nothing to do with the ideas of Hobbes and Rousseau. I also think it’s clear that no one invents it, no one “adopts” it, and certainly no one signs it. It forms on its own. However, like any contract, it implies obligations of the parties and sanctions for violation. In our case, such a naturally occurring “sanction” is the loss of legitimacy, which, in turn, can lead to the disappearance of the state.
Establishing the exact content of the social contract is hardly possible, and if such a task is set, then in its solution, not so much lawyers will be useful, but rather field sociologists, economists, and simply “students of the people’s soul.” Understanding such complex unwritten rules is transmitted, as they say, with mother’s milk and is usually reflected in people’s ideas about “justice”: what is right and what is wrong in relations between people and authority, what is permitted and what is not permitted for each of the parties. At the same time, it is very important that the content of these rules can be learned not so much from people’s muttering about their hard lot and not from sociological surveys, but rather from their reactions to various events.
The classic example here is, of course, the Maidan1, when people precisely through their actions declared “no, we didn’t agree to this.” They considered that the social contract had been violated.
Well, how can you find out how “we agreed”? What has changed, and has anything changed, in the “social contract” and in the formula of “justice” since the 1990s?
In the 1990s, no one expected a police patrol to arrive on time or that janitors should clear snow (fortunately, winters were then low-snow). Janitors at that time had generally disappeared as a class, appearing only in the relatively prosperous “zeroes.” No one also doubted—and this especially bothered no one—that a judge took bribes; the question was only the acceptability of the price. To be correctly understood, I want to say that, of course, many accusatory words were spoken about corruption, including by ordinary citizens, and even in family circles. But—attention!—when certain events occurred, discussions about corruption and about how everything was bad were replaced, in 99 cases out of 100, by the most outright corrupt actions.
The society of the 1990s could be called a “society of equal corruption opportunities.” The formula of justice was seen as the possibility for anyone to “resolve the issue.” Everyone agreed that the state fulfilled its obligations poorly in exchange for the possibility of “resolving the issue.” For its part, the state should not bother citizens—for example, about non-payment for utilities, electricity, as well as about stealing “state property.”
Problems with the “social contract” and the formula of justice began when “everyone” started feeling that they were no longer able to “resolve the issue.” This happened for several reasons. First, Soviet resources had been completely embezzled. Second, new business, new resources that could replace Soviet ones, grew extremely slowly. This happened precisely because of the thieving attitudes that underlay the “society of equal corruption opportunities.” Economic growth is possible only with guarantees of property, and since “free access” of any participant to property lay at the foundation of the social contract, there would be no growth. In general, the resources for parasitism were shrinking with the constant and confident growth in the number of parasites (officials, their family members, “businessmen” cronies, etc.). Third, during this time, officials mastered state powers. If earlier, offices of bosses had queues of people ready to start some business (of course, honestly sharing with management), now management itself planned business in the sphere allotted to it and practically did not need fools from the street.
This process began somewhere in the early “zeroes” and it was this that led to the conflict in 2004. Kuchma invited the “Donetsk people” to Kyiv because they could handle the new realities best. Mental differences played a big role here. The “old” pre-Donetsk elite thought in feudal categories habitual for Ukraine, and feudalism somehow presupposes a contract. The “Donetsk” mentality is not feudalism but slavery—not a greedy lord and a cunning serf who try to deceive each other, but a slaveowner and a slave. The “Donetsk people” were much better suited for the new conditions; they could effectively and without unnecessary sentiment show the serfs that the times of equality in “resolving issues” for money were fading into the past.
Then an interesting thing happened. In 2004, supporters of the old social contract politically defeated those who tried to impose, let’s say, an “anti-fool” social contract. However, this did not stop the process. The old social contract came under doubt and the search for a new formula began—and, characteristically, it began both from the side of the state and from the side of society.
The formula was found quite quickly, and it can be written as: “if you are bosses here, then please fulfill what we consider your obligations.” This was a completely new position for Ukraine. Just ten years before that, Kuchma won the presidential election against himself, becoming the most opposition candidate for president. Now such a position became impossible. Mykola Yanovych, who tries to blame everything on the “predecessors,” is openly ridiculed by everyone and their brother.
But that’s now. In 2004, the state felt that it needed to meet the masses halfway and began adapting to the demands of the workers. And the state found a way. Let’s recall that initially it continued to act in the spirit of the “Donetsk people,” whom it had not allowed to come to power: one of the first initiatives of Tymoshenko’s first premiership was an attempt to cancel the single tax, which had fed the “fools” for several years, the very fools who had brought her and Yushchenko to power. But such blunt measures could not produce a positive result. Therefore, the state began to adapt to the situation differently. Its task now consisted in demonstrating to the fools its ability to punish and chastise those who, in society’s opinion, represented danger. Therefore, the first thing the state concerned itself with became “crimes without a victim.”
During Kuchma’s time, the state was completely uninterested in whether you had pornography at home or whether you smoked in prohibited places. Now the state needed to present defeated enemies, and of course, they became non-existent enemies. Let me remind you that the state’s movement toward interference in citizens’ private lives began precisely under Yushchenko—for example, the unforgettable commission on morals was deployed precisely under him.
As soon as the new formula of the social contract was felt out, political demand completely switched to the public capable of realizing it. In 2004, the “soft” Yushchenko and the “hard” Yanukovych competed, and in 2009, Tymoshenko and Yanukovych were already competing in “hardness,” with both having served as prime ministers under the “soft” Yushchenko.
Today, the formula of justice is good guys punishing bad guys on the call of a vigilant citizen. As we see, its practical realization is evolving, because the known hardness of the Donetsk people is no longer sufficient. Many now believe that good guys should also have the correct nationality in their passport, and only then can they be considered good. In principle, taken to the extreme, this formula gives us a national catastrophe or civil war. But, nevertheless, the state will self-reproduce until the hope for the right guys dies out and until the hope that this formula can be realized at all dies out.
The Maidan of 2004 is meant here. ↩︎