Hi, my name’s Ohollern.

Recently, Jerome and Chuck kindly invited me to post here at Bad Attitudes from time to time. I’ve been a fan of BA for many years, and I eagerly accepted their offer. I’ve always appreciated the fact that BA isn’t narrowly focused on the day-to-day trivia of politics, but has a much wider range. There’s room to roam, and it makes the blog much more interesting. It’s great to be here, and with any luck my contributions will justify Jerome and Chuck’s generosity. So, without further ado, I’ll just get started, and I’d like to begin with a subject near and dear to my heart, U.S.-Russian relations.

Let’s assume for the sake of argument that America and Russia have fundamentally good intentions toward each other. That’s a false assumption, of course. In fact, there are some crusty old types in both the Pentagon and the Kremlin who are wetting themselves at the prospect of a new Cold War. The original one is the source of their fondest memories, and far be it from me to get between a bunch of old warriors and their nostalgia. But let’s put all that aside for now. Let’s engage in that harmless mental masturbation that academic types sometimes refer to as a thought experiment.

Assuming we both meant all that jive about cooperation, harmony and peace, are truly good relations possible between our two nations?

I suppose so. But still, it would be a trial, like a bad marriage that needs years of counseling. Maybe even drugs. Why? Because we have totally different approaches to history that color everything we do. It turns our relations into a hopeless tangle of misunderstanding, paranoia and fear.

Here’s a completely unscientific personal anecdote that nicely illustrates what I mean.

Whenever I told an American I was a history major, almost every single one asked the same question: “What are you going to do with that?” It was an automatic, Pavlovian response that became wearisome. Outside of the history department itself, I honestly can’t recall a single American ever responding a different way.

Then I went to Russia. I was staying with an ordinary, working-class family of Russians in a big, communal apartment in St. Petersburg. Mom was a kindergarten teacher, dad was a marginally employed truck driver. In other words, just regular working types, not intellectuals at all. When I told them what I studied, I naturally expected the same old question. I didn’t get it. Instead, they looked at me with interest, maybe even a tad bit of respect, and asked, “Really, what history are you most interested in?”

And it was the same everywhere I went. Regular Russians, Russian Joe-the-Plumbers, if you will, always curiously asked about my intellectual interest in history. Only later, by way of casual conversation, would they inquire about what I planned to “do” with it.

For Americans, history is, to quote Henry Ford, “bunk.” It’s something little Johnny majors in when he can’t decide on a real profession; a juvenile indulgence he’ll outgrow when it’s time to get down to the serious business of making a living. To Russians, it’s a respectable and honorable pursuit in its own right. It’s also a series of bloody invasions that have always left them desolated and impoverished. Russia has been invaded by Mongols, Swedes, the French, the Germans in 1914, a coalition of British, French, American and Japanese forces in 1917, and then again by the Germans in 1941. That’s quite a resume.

When we tell them the expansion of NATO is no threat to them, that their security is not threatened, their entire historical experience screams back: “Bullshit! Our security is always threatened!”

We push, they respond, and a cycle of brinkmanship ensues that your average American is totally unequipped to intelligently understand (this is not an accident).

Which brings us to the term du jour of American politicians, think-tank policy wonks and photogenic newsreaders whenever Russia ‘misbehaves’: Russian intransigence.

Russian intransigence! Gasp. Sigh. Duck and cover, kids, the Russian bear is coming again. In fact, defensiveness more accurately describes Russian policy. They are nearly always responding, albeit in a heavy-handed way, to our own forward movements. Intransigence more accurately describes our own insatiable push to isolate and encircle them (and, as happy consequence, get all the oil). If Americans had anything resembling a historical memory these problems would probably still go on. Too many people make money off of them. But it might put an ever so tiny check on some of Washington’s more extravagant follies. It just might make them behave once in a while.

But these are all idle thoughts. Things will continue as they’ve always been because America’s hard-headed refusal to learn history is, well, just plain intransigent.

Posted by OHollern at November 17, 2008 01:16 PM

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