Why we urgently need to call Russia Fascist and Russia’s war Genocide
Words matter. Just as calling Covid19 a Pandemic defined our response to it, we need to call Russia's war in Ukraine a fascist genocide to frame our response.
On the use of words
A consensus is emerging that Putin’s Russia is a fascist state and that Russia’s war in Ukraine is genocide. Both the words genocide and fascist are so weighted in history that people are often hesitant to use them, or when they do use them they are easily shouted down. Both words require consideration and justification. They need to be used in a targeted and precise way in order to serve the purpose for which they were created, and to do justice to those whose suffering has given them such weight.
As one of the many people whose ancestors died at the hands of fascists in a genocide, I feel some affinity with these words and some duty to use them when I feel it is needed. I have written previously that the lesson from history when it comes to both fascism and genocide is that we have to deploy these words early in order for them to be preventative, rather than after the fact when they are just descriptive.
We have seen fascism and genocide before; we know what they look like. At the first sign they might be happening, we should act swiftly. Instead, we risk prevaricating, avoiding bringing out the linguistic big guns just in case we should be proved wrong, or seen to be alarmist. Getting caught up in semantics whilst people are dying is a familiar problem, and we should again learn from the mistakes we’ve made before.
There is a recent parallel with which we are all familar. When Covid19 first emerged, there was a debate about whether it qualified as a pandemic. This lost us time we could have used to prepare our healthcare systems. In March 2020, the Director General of the World Health Organisation finally declared a pandemic. This empowered governments to act more decisively. It brought the world together by recognising the crisis for what it was, giving it a name, and crystalising the seriousness of the situation.
In his speech, the Director General said, “Pandemic is not a word to use lightly or carelessly. It is a word that, if misused, can cause unreasonable fear, or unjustified acceptance that the fight is over, leading to unnecessary suffering and death.”
In the same way that we needed the use of the word pandemic to start reacting properly to Covid19, we also need to say that Putin’s Russia is now fascist, and his war in Ukraine is genocide. Like pandemic these are not a words to be used lightly or carelessly, and they should indeed cause fear and may lead to deaths. But they are words we need to use now in order to prompt a unified, global response to a spreading threat. Just like Covid19, Putin’s fascism and genocide have already become a global threat, undermining food and energy supplies, killing tens of thousands and threatening to kill millions. As with Covid19, this threat will also destabilise democracies, undermine governments, and cause widespread social unrest well beyond Russia, from where the threat is spreading.
A war has two sides, and you can side with either. Genocide only has one side, and you are either opposed to it or complicit. Whilst Russia has very few allies, too many countries still remain neutral, as we have seen in UN votes. Some because they are concerned about being judged for their own past or future actions, others because they have benefitted from Russian money, arms, or energy. Remaining neutral about a war is a matter of opinion and analysis. Once it is recognised as a genocide, there is no debate or interpretation, it is a crime recognised the world over, and can only be condemned.
The biggest lesson from Nazi Germany, Stalinist Russia, Srebrenica, Rwanda, and many other genocides or periods of dictatorship, is that we should call out a descent into fascism or genocide as soon as we see it starting, not once we’re sure it is underway. At that point it is too late. These powerful words rose out of the last century as harbingers to those in the future. They are meant to stop us in our tracks, to silence us, and to focus us. Any time we have stood by and watched fascism infect a nation, or a genocide destroy a people we have only ever regretted not acting sooner. We are there now with Ukraine.
On Russian Fascism
In 2014, just before he was murdered by Putin’s regime, the Russian opposition politician, Boris Nemtsov said in an interview: “Russia is rapidly turning into a fascist state. We already have propaganda modelled after Nazi Germany. We also have a nucleus of assault brigades…That’s just the beginning.”
The use of the word fascism to describe Putin’s Russia was discussed recently in the New York Times by Timothy Snyder, a professor of history at Yale and expert on the topic. Snyder reminds his reader that Fascism should not be viewed only through the lens of Hitler and Nazi Germany, “Fascism was Italian in origin, popular in Romania — where fascists were Orthodox Christians who dreamed of cleansing violence — and had adherents throughout Europe (and America). In all its varieties, it was about the triumph of will over reason.”
Fascism is about a mixture of victimhood and violence, brutalisation and control, theatre and display, language and action, war and fear. Fascism creates enemies within and enemies abroad. It sows fear and anger to justify war, and uses war to justify control. Fascism is about creating an enemy in the ‘other’ and dehumanising them, which is why it is so often linked to genocide.
A unique feature of Russian fascism arises from the country’s battle against Hitler. Because Nazi Germany was fascist and the Russians fought against them, Stalin was able to frame his dictatorship as anti-fascist. This narrative has been continued by Putin, who paints Ukrainians as fascists and Nazis because they oppose Russia. According to this narrative, anyone opposing Russia is a fascist, and this gaslighting allows Putin to create a Russian fascist state behind the veil of being anti-fascist.
Snyder points out that the word fascism in Russia was always just used to describe an enemy, not any particular political system. “Stalin’s flexibility about fascism is the key to understanding Russia today. Under Stalin, fascism was first indifferent, then it was bad, then it was fine until — when Hitler betrayed Stalin and Germany invaded the Soviet Union — it was bad again. But no one ever defined what it meant. It was a box into which anything could be put. Communists were purged as fascists in show trials.”
By defining the others as fascists and Nazis, Putin juxtaposes Russia with the fascists, and therefore deflects any idea that he and his regime are now fascists. Snyder says: “Calling others fascists while being a fascist is the essential Putinist practice. Jason Stanley, an American philosopher, calls it “undermining propaganda.” I have called it “schizofascism.” The Ukrainians have the most elegant formulation. They call it “ruscism.”
Putin’s fascism has evolved to embrace violence, hatred, brutality, and the same paranoia that came to define Stalin’s Russia — everyone is an enemy, encroaching on their border, determined to destroy Russia, and every enemy is a fascist that needs to be destroyed.
The brutality of Putin’s regime underlines its fascism. This internal brutality has been seen openly in the failures of its military in Ukraine. Low morale has been attributed to a great extent to the way rank and file soldiers are themselves brutalised and mistreated by the army. Russia is violent towards its own in a way that is hard for Westerners to comprehend. The Economist sites a Levada poll suggesting that “10% of the Russian population has experienced torture by law-enforcement agencies at some point. There is a culture of cruelty. Domestic abuse is no longer a crime in Russia.” Ten percent does not sound large, but keep in mind Russia has a population of 145m, so this accounts for more people than the entire population of Belgium being tortured by their own state.
And Russia has once again become a country in which the simple use of words, such as ‘war,’ can land you in prison. People are stopped randomly in the street and arrested if they have anything on their phone suggesting they are not entirely in line with the official narrative, on Putin or on his war. Russia is now a harsh dictatorship in which people are not even allowed inner thoughts or private conversations that contravene the dictated narrative, and in which a militarised security state uninhibited by rules or laws can enforce order indiscriminately. This is a full return to Stalinism, with random extra-legal arrests, imprisonment, and murder.
If people cannot think, speak, or write their dissent out of fear, whilst at the same time they are enveloped in a fog of propaganda carrying only one message, then it becomes hard to know if you are alone or one of many in thinking critically of the regime. The Economist explains how “the state publicises opinion polls showing that the majority of Russians support the “special military operation”. The main reason people support Mr Putin is that they think everybody else does, too. The need to belong is powerful. Even when people have access to information, they “simply ignore it or rationalise it, just to avoid destroying the concept of self, country and power…created by propaganda,” notes Elena Koneva, a sociologist.”
This combination of total control over information, and total control of people through violence and fear is fascism. Underpining this new fascism is the state security infrastructure. In a long essay in Foreign Affairs magazine, Andrei Soldatov and Irina Borogan trace the progression of the FSB under Putin. “In contrast to the largely surveillance-oriented agency of previous years, the FSB has become a far more expansive arm of an increasingly ruthless state. In its sweeping reach into domestic society, foreign affairs, and the military, the FSB has begun to look less like its late-Soviet predecessor, the KGB. It now resembles something much scarier: the NKVD, Stalin’s notorious secret police, which conducted the great purges of the 1930s and maintained an iron lock on Russian society into the early years of the Cold War.”
They reference FSB attacks on journalists, but also on businesses that continue to buy foreign parts, or even healthcare providers that use foreign medicines. The similarity with Stalin’s Russia is the shutting down of the country completely from the outside world, and a nationalism that becomes ideologically so extreme that people are considered traitors just for having foreign friends or buying foreign goods.
Soldatov and Borogan observe that “the NKVD was designed for a regime that was constantly at war: with its own political enemies, with former comrades in the country and abroad, and with the West. And what made the NKVD so powerful — and so feared — was that it answered only to Stalin, not to the Communist Party or the Soviet government.” This is the parallel they now draw with Putin’s Russia and the FSB. Because Russia no longer has the pillars of a state or a government, the FSB is under Putin’s direct control, and is expanding into every aspect of Russia domestic and foreign policy.
The reasons we need to call Russia fascist are firstly because it is, and secondly because this should lead our political leaders to recognise a strategic reality; fascism is unbending. By its nature, a fascist leader cannot compromise, cannot be seen to lose, be weak, or to negotiate. Fascism is an absolute, just like religious extremism, founded on a single view of the world that can have no other perspective. Fascism is not rational, it is brute force. In order to justify itself and remain in power, fascism creates a binary world in which only the fascist state is or can ever be right. Everything else is the enemy, bent on its destruction, and must be met with force.
Calling Russia fascist should clarify Western, African, and Asian policies on energy and food reliance on Russia. We are no longer negotiating or dealing with a government, a rational political body, or an entity existing within a global legal framework. It is clear that Russia will use everything it can in its war, from energy and food to signing and then ignoring legal documents like peace treaties to gas contracts.
All of this points to the reality we faced with Nazi Germany, that the only way to confront fascism is to defeat it. All of the writers quoted here conclude that whilst Putin is in power, Russia will continue to be a violent, disruptive, and destabilising nation that has no limits to the harm and damage it is willing to commit to its own people or any nation that confronts it. Any country that wants global stability and peace, needs to unite to defeat Putin’s fascism.
On Russia’s Genocide
According to the UN, “The word “genocide” was first coined by Polish lawyer Raphäel Lemkin in 1944 in his book Axis Rule in Occupied Europe. It consists of the Greek prefix genos, meaning race or tribe, and the Latin suffix cide, meaning killing.”
The UN states that:
“Genocide was first recognised as a crime under international law in 1946 by the United Nations General Assembly (A/RES/96-I). It was codified as an independent crime in the 1948 Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide (the Genocide Convention). The Convention has been ratified by 149 States (as of January 2018). The International Court of Justice (ICJ) has repeatedly stated that the Convention embodies principles that are part of general customary international law. This means that whether or not States have ratified the Genocide Convention, they are all bound as a matter of law by the principle that genocide is a crime prohibited under international law. The ICJ has also stated that the prohibition of genocide is a peremptory norm of international law (or ius cogens) and consequently, no derogation from it is allowed.”
Lemkin called genocide the crime of crimes. It has its own place in history because it seeks to wipe out a people altogether. Genocide is different to war. War and invasion seek to conquer and seize a land; genocide seeks to erase the identity of its people, remove the country from the map. Like war, genocide kills women and children, but genocide also replaces teachers, destroys history books, changes place names, bans languages, arrests and kills those in whom a society’s identity and culture resides, such as artists, political thinkers, poets, and writers.
After a genocide, there is nobody left to fight back, to re-take land, rebuild buildings, restore a government, or celebrate a culture. Genocide is absolute destruction at the most human level. After a genocide, there is nobody left to talk about the people who died, to reminisce about their lives, to paint pictures of their past or write books about their culture. When genocide kills you there is nobody to mourn you, it is as if you had never existed, erased from history. We are all part of societies and cultures, which is why we recoil at the idea of an entire culture being erased by another.
In Foreign Affairs, Kristina Hook writes that under the UN Convention on Genocide, it is “defined as “any of the following acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial, or religious group: killing members of the group; causing serious bodily or mental harm to members of the group; deliberately inflicting on the group conditions of life calculated to bring about its physical destruction in whole or in part; imposing measures intended to prevent births within the group; and forcibly transferring children of the group to another group.” No country or organization has ever fundamentally challenged this legal definition or the international community’s obligation to stop genocide.”
Genocide requires an intent and prior planning, as well as an infrastructure in place to execute it. Russia has done both with Ukraine. Hook references the Russian state media channel, RIA Novosti, which “explicitly defined this genocidal goal, stating that “de-Nazification will inevitably include de-Ukrainization,” that Ukrainian desires for independence veiled the country’s true “Nazism,” and that “Ukrainism is an artificial anti-Russian construct” that must be eliminated.” The idea that Ukraine does not exist and should be absorbed into Russia has been part of Putin’s stated thinking for some time before the war.
The intent is also reflected in the infrastructure imposed by an invader. Russia has not only sent troops to Ukraine, it has also sent teachers to take over occupied schools to teach a false Russian history to children, signwriters to change street names and to replace Ukrainian with Russian language. In areas occupied by Russia, Ukrainians have been coerced into giving up their passports to be replaced with Russian passports, effectively erasing their national identity. Hook observes that “Russia’s forced deportation of approximately 1.9 million Ukrainians — with Russian officials themselves confirming that 307,423 Ukrainian children have been fast-tracked for adoption by Russian parents — fulfils another clear criterion for genocide.”
The Soviet Union has a long history of deporting or killing large segments of the population from countries it invaded, such as the Baltic States, and replacing them with Russians. This dilution of a society was calculated to erase its culture and replace it with that of Russia.
Filtration camps in which people are searched for tattoos, text messages, or any indication that they may resist the impending Russification have been established, with ‘Reports from human rights organizations, the U.S. State Department, and numerous media outlets…that Russian authorities mark for death, disappearance, or torture those detainees deemed irredeemably Ukrainian.’ In occupied regions, “Russia has introduced the rouble and forced schools to adopt the Russian curriculum.” As well as imposing Russian phone networks and television to control information and communication.
Another hallmark of genocide is when a war is fought against all parts of a society, not just its military. The war in Ukraine has been fought against civilians from the start, with entire cities being reduced to rubble, and schools, housing, and hospitals being the target of Russian bombardment.
Russians have knowingly killed children, for example bombing the theatre in Mauripol, outside which the locals had written ‘Children’ in rocks on the ground to show it was sheltering women and children. This has been acknowledged as a war crime, but it needs to be viewed as part of a wider pattern that is genocide.
Rape is a also weapon of genocide because it seeks to replace a new generation, just as forced adoptions remove that generation and absorb it into the perpetrators culture. Rape is being used as a weapon in Ukraine, as it was used by Russians during the Second World War. Russia has already carried out these genocidal crimes against children, bombing and killing them, raping women, and kidnapping hundreds of thousands of children to be deported to families in Russia.
As Hook observes, “Moscow’s desire to extinguish Ukrainians as a national group helps explain the confounding behavior of its forces. As cholera outbreaks gripped Mariupol in June, Russian occupation authorities prioritized making miniscule changes to Ukrainian language road signs over delivering humanitarian aid to the civilians they were ostensibly rescuing from a “fascist” Ukrainian regime.”
The importance of the word genocide in this context, as with the word fascism, or indeed pandemic is that it frames our response. Genocides happen quickly, they are like wildfires. Civilians cannot defend themselves, and once the perpetrators are either numbed by their violence or sufficiently brainwashed by their leaders they accelerate their genocidal behaviour. During the Rwandan genocide of 1994, in just 100 days over 500,000 Tutsis were killed, and up to half a million women raped.
As with declaring Covid19 a Pandemic, we need to declare Russia’s war in Ukraine a genocide in order to focus the international response.
This response is different to a conventional war. Hook argues that, “typical diplomatic strategies, cease-fires, and negotiations over territory do not stop genocidal wars. The West learned this lesson in countering Hitler’s aggression and atrocities and must remember it again.” Yet, credible Western leaders are still talking about negotiated settlements, peace treaties, ceasefires, compromise. They have not yet grasped that this is a genocide being committed by fascists.
Understanding Ukraine as a genocide rather than just a war should trigger far faster and more decisive support from Ukraine’s allies. It should also push more of the fence-sitters to come out against Russia; opposing a war is a political choice, not opposing a genocide is far harder to justify.
Various leaders, including Joe Biden, have used the word genocide, but what we need now is universally to replace the word war with the word genocide. News reports, political speeches, passing conversations should only be about the genocide in Ukraine, not the war in Ukraine. Putin is so scared of the word war he has banned its use in Russia in relation to Ukraine. This shows how much weight a word carries. The word genocide is special, but it needs to be used in anticipation, not just in retrospect.
We urgently need our media and our leaders to adopt these two historically powerful words to describe Russia and what it is doing in Ukraine.
The precedent for this adoption of a linguistic norm was when the media and politicians started to refer to ISIS as ‘the so-called Islamic State.’ This was hardly damning, but it tried to avoid recognising them as the Islamic State, as their name forced us to do. It caught on and has held, thanks to leadership by politicians and journalists. We now need that same leadership to hold Putin to account by calling his regime fascist, and his war genocide.
We can lead in that movement, with our own use of social media, discussion, comment, and even thought. Think of this as a genocide by a fascist dictatorship, then talk about it in those terms. Correct people when they talk about the war in Ukraine, or about the Russian government. We can each change the narrative.