Yesterday I was talking with someone and realized that I apparently did not fully express myself about this “real constitution” of mine. Many perceive it as a joke, as some satirical exaggeration, but the thing is that this text (perhaps if one removes certain types of vocabulary from it, though maybe it’s not necessary) is our actually functioning constitution.
Let me explain. Human society is impossible without rules. The overwhelming majority of these rules we not only don’t think about, but don’t even suspect their existence. On the other hand, there are group and private interests, political decisions, and so on, regarding which “questions may arise.” In other words, there are norms that in practice need authority to back them. “Why did you take my toy car? I’ll call my dad right now!”… “Well, I’ll call mine, and he’ll give yours a beating!” That is what authority is called.
Where Written Constitutions Come From
Authority gives rules their status—it is believed that they emanate from some higher power recognized by everyone (or at least the majority) in a given society. This can be morality, a monarch, God, the state, law, and so on.
So, if you are lucky and your country operates under common law, then the so-called legislation quite often becomes a generalization of existing practice—a picture close to ideal. In this case, you can easily live without any written constitutions, as some wonderful countries demonstrate. What can be called a constitution is “dissolved” in written and unwritten rules and the practice of their application.
However, if, of course, they pushed the Napoleonic Code on you as “the best book of the year in the category ‘any answer to any question,’” then you absolutely cannot do without a written constitution. The system of squiggles and paragraphs itself generates the need for the Most Important Squiggle, which is precisely what a written constitution serves as.
You also cannot do without a written constitution if you want to establish a more authoritative source of authority, that is, if your dad did beat the neighbor kid and now he will be the one giving orders in the sandbox. In this case, the constitution is, among other things, also the result of political changes—see the US Constitution, and, generally speaking, 99% of any other constitutions. Any written constitution de facto is not only a legal but also a political document and fixes, at best, the predominance of some social order, at worst—the change of flag on the government building.
Thus, an ideal written constitution a) is a generalization of practice, b) serves as a source of authority, c) plays a political role, fixing changes. In the case of the USA—the American constitution became a generalization of British legal practice, played the role of authority, fixing the emergence of a new authority: instead of King George III—“the people”—and, finally, fixed the choice from the multi-order British society in favor of the liberal component.
Let’s Talk About Generalization of Practice
Now let’s return to our God-protected Fatherland and see where we can apply those three criteria that a written constitution must satisfy.
Let’s talk first about “practice” and its generalization—this is perhaps the most important and most complex moment in this story. Essentially, the basis of legal practice, one way or another, is social practice. At the foundation of the latter always lies some general idea that turns a set of individuals into a people. This is, so to speak, the formula of socially encouraged success or, speaking simply—the national dream. For Britain, for a long time it was “Rule, Britannia! Rule the waves: Britons never will be slaves,” about the USA we all know, but what can be said about Ukraine?
The Ukrainian Dream (Again)
The author of these lines has long proposed the formula “Become a boss!” as the Ukrainian dream. It seems that the course of political events (see below) confirms this idea. I have had to write about the phenomenon of the boss many times, let me note the main points. So:
a boss is not a synonym for a leader, successful manager, entrepreneur, artist, writer, etc.; in other words, the social usefulness of a boss is often doubtful and is not a decisive criterion;
becoming a boss means having a higher status. Strangely enough, although status usually implies access to material benefits, it is not they, but status itself that is the main motive;
a boss, as a rule, is positioned within some external hierarchy relative to “his own”; it is precisely this position that makes him a boss;
an important consequence from the last point—a boss, as a rule, is an “outsider who made it,” not an “insider.”
Essentially, the history of Ukrainians—brave builders of other people’s empires, as well as “outsiders who made it”—writers, musicians, and artists who achieved success in other countries, not their homeland—wonderfully confirms this theory.
If we look at our newest history from the standpoint of “boss theory,” it acquires clear features. Usually in a society, first some infrastructure for the social realization of the person emerges, which over time becomes more or less complete. It is precisely this completeness that makes one ask the simple question: “What are these guys from (Moscow, London, Paris) doing here?"—and demand independence. In such conditions, local leaders—“insiders”—become valuable, not “outsiders.” Ukraine, as is well known, received its independence rather accidentally, without a complete infrastructure of its own for social realization. As a result, Ukrainians reproduce those social patterns to which they were accustomed before independence, and which are familiar to them. One could say that Ukrainians did not notice their independence; they behave as if it doesn’t exist. Therefore, expressions like “occupation authorities,” with which our nationalists characterized, for example, the Kuchma regime, is not so much a journalistic exaggeration as a statement of fact. Ukrainians unconsciously reproduce the imperial province, including some socio-political hole instead of “Moscow.” With this empty place, to which the properties of the source of all troubles are attributed, they have been heroically fighting for 17 years.
By the way, accidental independence is a very dangerous thing; a parade of the consequences of such independences we observe, for example, in Africa, but let’s not digress from the topic.
So, if you think that “boss” is only a socio-psychological phenomenon, then you are deeply mistaken. In 1996, the boss became the core of the legal system. Essentially, the meaning of the 1996 constitution consisted in the legal and juridical formalization of the boss phenomenon. To be more precise—the constitution created the Boss of Bosses—the president.
Our entire constitution, except for the parts describing the powers of authority, can be safely thrown into the furnace. It never interested anyone and was not a significant political or legal factor. Instead, a fierce struggle has been going on around the presidential position from the first days of independence, and it is precisely this that analysts savor, show on television, and so on. This is not accidental, because, I repeat, precisely these articles of the constitution have real significance for the Ukrainian way of life.
The President—the Boss
Let’s look at why the presidential position came to mean the Boss of Bosses.
First, let’s note a simple legal technique that made a president into a boss. It consists in the fact that the president, according to the 1996 text, can dismiss the prime minister (read—the government) at any moment. At the same time, the president has no obligations connected with maintaining the Cabinet’s operability; he can generally stay out of its affairs.
So, what do we see. The president is elected in general elections, which give him the necessary status. He participates in the appointment of most key figures in the state hierarchy, but almost no one appoints himself (that is, he can always shift responsibility for appointments onto others). At the same time, he can dismiss the prime minister without any procedure. We see here a typical “outsider who made it,” a person who is outside the hierarchy of “his own,” but has sufficient status to exert the most direct influence on it. It is precisely this right to intervene in the work of authorities when the president himself deems it necessary (which, of course, may not coincide with real necessity), or when a whim visits him, that creates that socio-political hole with which everyone from little to big fights.
This is one side of the problem. The other, more practical one, consists in the fact that, being outside (“above,” as many believe, but actually outside) the formal bureaucratic system, the president is a leader in the informal hierarchy. He, as any boss should, “solves issues.” “Well, what do you have there?” some Leonid Danylovych wearily asks the petitioners hurrying to him. The petitioners complain about the arbitrariness of officials, show Leonid Danylovych some projects… If Leonid Danylovych likes the projects, he calls the prime minister and asks him to receive the petitioners. He can also sternly instruct that prime minister to ensure the little officials don’t get too out of hand. Why does the prime minister listen to him and not tell him off? Because Leonid Danylovych can dismiss him at any moment.
Does this remind you of anything? This is a typical scheme for managing an imperial province. To better understand this point, let’s imagine how petitioners would have to act in a normal, ordinary country. First, (let’s imagine that it is a situation requiring the participation of authorities), they would, first of all, turn for help to the local authorities. The local authorities, let’s say, see that the situation exceeds their competence and requires the participation of central authorities. People are explained that this can be done, but for that, sorry, you need to go to Kyiv. The petitioners with recommendations and clarifications from the local authorities go to Kyiv, to the Cabinet of Ministers. Here their adventures end either in success or in failure.
You’re smiling? Why? Obviously, you assume that in our reality at each stage of this not-so-complicated, in general, matter, thousands of obstacles will arise. You assume this because you have experience. Other people have such experience too, and this generalized experience says—100% nothing will come of it. Therefore, it’s easier to find the appropriate boss who will solve the issue. Such a boss can be found in their city, in the neighboring region, in Kyiv, and if it really doesn’t work out otherwise and the matter is worth it, then one should go to the boss of bosses—the president.
The boss is the “assembly point” of the country’s social order. Starting a business, you will most likely, even before writing a business plan, inquire whether someone doesn’t have acquaintances (i.e., bosses) in such and such a place. The same will have to be done in all other cases when you need to leave home and do something independently. All of us (well, almost all) in one situation or another are bosses solving issues. Sometimes this situation is confused with corruption. Yes, sometimes bosses take gifts for their services. But the overwhelming majority of such services are provided free of charge.
Ukrainians, as I have already said, reproduce every day and every hour all the social patterns that support the existence of the boss phenomenon. And here is what is especially important: these patterns are also reproduced in politics, which speaks of the complete adequacy of the political system to the social system. By removing in 2004 the president’s ability to dismiss the prime minister, i.e., by removing the legal basis of the boss system, we achieved nothing. The system, which needs an informal boss over all possible bosses, restored the 1996 status quo de facto in 2007. In our constitution today there is nothing that would give Viktor Andriyovych the right to act as he acts. But everyone behaves as if he is the boss of bosses, because it is necessary for comprehensible existence.
Internal and External Hierarchy
Here it is important to explain the following. When speaking about the internal hierarchy, the author means the classical bureaucratic hierarchy. As for the “external,” it actually does not exist in the form of some formal hierarchy. An example of the external hierarchy at work is Vasya, who returned after a long absence from the city to his native village in a foreign car. This generalized “city” (not Vasya’s specific workplace and position, but how the villagers see him) is the external hierarchy.
To be completely precise, in this external hierarchy there is only one rigid element—the president. All other “bosses” are social roles that, most often, are situational. Of course, a place in the internal hierarchy (state management, etc.) is very important for being a boss. That is, a minister, as a rule, is a boss. But not always. Similarly, comrade Kolomoyskyis, Firtashes, etc. do not occupy important state posts, but are very real bosses.
Why This Works
The boss system is highly functional. First, it is deeply mental (see the section “Ukrainian dream”). Second, it is comprehensible and simple. The higher your status (the bigger boss you are or can situationally become, when there is a need for it), the easier it is for you to “solve the issue.” Moreover, the system creates simple and clear motivations that are easy to follow, therefore bosses come and go, but the system remains.
Internal Moscow
Let’s note in passing that the boss system, or the system of imperial management without an empire, has one fatal feature, about which has already been spoken, but should be said again. This feature is “internal Moscow” or the “responsibility hole.” This is that empty place, that non-existent external hierarchy, whose representative is the president, and on which, de facto, the entire boss system rests. The political elite shovels their responsibility into this hole with Soviet shovels. Observe how our politicians speak, how the logical and semantic series in their passages develops. Observe what questions workers ask them. You will easily notice this hole in which all meaning of what is happening disappears. And let’s note that this happens naturally; no one thinks about it. The trouble is that if one can separate from external Moscow, then from the internal one—there’s no way.
The Dead End of Revolution and the Dead End of Evolution
This is where the system’s strength lies and the threat it carries. After all, fighting this system “head-on” is meaningless. It’s like trying to break a cotton wall with a hammer. The “responsibility hole” is dangerous not only by legitimizing irresponsibility, but, first of all, by the inadequacy of ideas that are born in desperate attempts to fight it. Examples of ideas from this series—criminal liability of officials for their work, the return to a majoritarian electoral system, because it is “closer to the people.”
The horror of “internal Moscow” can be illustrated as follows. Let’s imagine that certain officials did something wrong, and this caused a big scandal. Unlike the typical situation, when the scandal ends where it begins (by the way, think about why), let’s imagine that the matter reaches some punishment for these people. I can very well imagine the situation, and I wonder if you can imagine it too? So, I very clearly see mass bewilderment expressed including by the media. Like, what for? Like, they’re not to blame, they’re scapegoats. The second version of the illustration is typical “investigations” on the topic “who is behind this.” When such an “investigation” reaches some money or some inaccessible Martian tryndylyts (oligarchs, Americans, etc.) for immediate explanation, they are immediately declared the cause of what is happening and everyone calms down on that. What is similar in these two examples? In the complete helplessness of private individuals. In the first case, we are dealing with scapegoats set up in someone’s big game; in the second—with big money, which, as is supposed, can do anything with people. There are no people here. They are not to blame, because they are not subjects. Now tell me that these examples are not typical and that “internal Moscow,” which is responsible for everything, does not exist.
The mistake of all revolutionaries and reformers is that they one way or another propose working within the internal (formal) hierarchy, while real life happens in the external hierarchy. That is, to defeat the boss system, one must offer people something, at minimum, equally simple and effective. Instead, the following happens. Reformers’ conversations always concern measures within the internal hierarchy—all these laws, decrees, and other purely bureaucratic nonsense. Revolutionaries’ measures are also located in the internal hierarchy and differ from reformers’ measures only in that revolutionaries “don’t bother” with means and immediately want to achieve some goals (make it so that officials go to prison if broccoli prices suddenly rise). But I repeat, both dream within the internal, that is, as a rule, theatrical hierarchy.
By the way, something just occurred to me. If in your country people think that scapegoats are not to blame, that’s a good reason to think about emigrating.
Why We Are Cooler
But let’s return (once again) to the topic of the constitution. In the “real constitution,” the boss is called a “povazhna osoba.” This is perhaps a broader concept, based on social role, not position, and so on. By the way, the mass “consumerism” that many don’t like is connected precisely with the desire to correspond to external signs of a “povazhna osoba.”
This version of the constitution is real because it is followed and people are guided by it in life, which cannot be said about the 1996 constitution. As we have already found out, from the currently effective version of the 1996 constitution, the only important things are the president’s powers and the relations between authorities, and even that only as a “legal cover.” Moreover, as we found out somewhat later, even the absence of key elements of legal “covers” in the 2004 version of the constitution does not prevent the system from existing, does not change its essence.
Two Final Points
And the last two points of criteria that a “working” constitution usually satisfies—its political role and authority.
The political role of our constitution is obvious—the fixation of the victory of feudalism over Soviet slavery, the fixation of the boss phenomenon as the “cornerstone” (ptu!) of the social and political system.
As for authority, it exists, and what authority! The best authority is when no one asks questions about its origin and right to command what people should do and how they should behave. Who is the source of authority, the higher power for the “real constitution”? All of us. If you were smiling while reading the “real constitution,” then it works, because we always laugh at ourselves.
P.S. Many may think that I am defending the existing system. This is not so. This system is disgusting, criminal, dangerous, and without prospects. It’s just that to defeat it, you need to know where its button is.