While Iranians have suffered perhaps tens of thousands of deaths during their latest uprising, Russians continue to avoid collective action against their regime. There are obviously many differences between Russia and Iran, but the contrast is nonetheless puzzling.
Even more puzzling is the difference between Russians and Ukrainians since the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991. Both peoples frequently took to the streets during the late Soviet era of glasnost and perestroika. Then their paths diverged. Russians last staged several large demonstrations in 2011 and 2012 but have been largely quiet since then. Ukrainians, in contrast, staged mass protests to demand the resignation of a corrupt, unpopular leader in 2000 and 2001, rose up again during the Orange Revolution in 2004, and launched the Maidan revolution in 2013. The large number of volunteers who rushed to the front lines to stop the Russian invasion in early 2022 were arguably engaging in a grassroots insurrectionary act as well.
While Iranians have suffered perhaps tens of thousands of deaths during their latest uprising, Russians continue to avoid collective action against their regime. There are obviously many differences between Russia and Iran, but the contrast is nonetheless puzzling.
Even more puzzling is the difference between Russians and Ukrainians since the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991. Both peoples frequently took to the streets during the late Soviet era of glasnost and perestroika. Then their paths diverged. Russians last staged several large demonstrations in 2011 and 2012 but have been largely quiet since then. Ukrainians, in contrast, staged mass protests to demand the resignation of a corrupt, unpopular leader in 2000 and 2001, rose up again during the Orange Revolution in 2004, and launched the Maidan revolution in 2013. The large number of volunteers who rushed to the front lines to stop the Russian invasion in early 2022 were arguably engaging in a grassroots insurrectionary act as well.
New York Times columnist M. Gessen attributes Russian quiescence to repression and atomization. “In Russia, mass protest used to be possible,” Gessen writes. “Then mass protest became impossible and the only option was what we called the one-person picket: a person standing alone with a sign.”
The image of the solitary protester is compelling. It reminds us that collective action is susceptible to the temptation of “free riding,” as political scientist Mancur Olson famously argued. It is usually more attractive to let others do the protesting than to expend time and resources for the pursuit of some collectively desired end.
Scholars generally agree that collective action requires some capacity for coordination around a shared goal, often by a self-organized strategic group consisting of individuals fully dedicated to a cause. This group might emerge from existing opposition groups, social networks inside and outside government, or political entrepreneurs willing to bear the initial costs.
The strategic group may then coerce, bribe, or persuade potential participants. Coercion entails threatening potential participants with shaming, fines, unemployment, arrest, or violence. To channel collective action, many democracies make voting mandatory, while dictatorships prefer putting a gun to citizens’ heads. Revolutionaries frequently recruit members by threatening them or their families with violence. In Olson’s terms, these moves raise the costs of staying on the sidelines.
Potential participants may also be enticed to join. “I Voted” stickers boost one’s sense of agency and thus self-worth; promises of tax cuts, free beer, or outright bribes address the material needs of voters. Political opposition groups attract supporters by offering promotions, jobs, or a larger slice of the pie when they come to power. These incentives make participation personally worthwhile.
In almost all these respects, as Gessen writes, the regime of President Vladimir Putin has all the cards. It tightly controls the official forces of coercion in almost all of Russia (the Kadyrov family fiefdom of Chechnya excepted) and a sizable chunk of the economy. In stark contrast, most citizens are powerless and can barely make a living. Most importantly, there is no coherent strategic group with the resources to provide incentives and solve the collective action problem. A person standing alone with a sign does not make for a strategic group.
Yet what is true of Russia is even more true of Iran. There is no Iranian strategic group with coercive or material resources commensurate with the audacity of the insurrection. Indeed, the Iranian regime has amply demonstrated, both now and in the past, that it is perfectly capable of killing thousands. Nor have opposition forces been able to offer material incentives to offset the high risk of participating in protests.
This brings us to the third way of eliciting participation in collective action: persuasion. Ideology, beliefs, culture, and emotions are among the “soft” factors that may be subsumed under this category. Not only can they inspire, but they can also change how people calculate risks and rewards—and shift expectations about who else will show up.
There are many reasons for the Iranian uprising and even more theories of rebellion, but the advantage of the collective action approach is that it focuses less on grand historical or philosophical questions and more on the direct motivations for individuals to participate in popular movements. In this light, it is safe to say that the nearly universal hatred of the ayatollah’s regime was the mobilizing force that prompted Iranians to take to the streets and risk their lives, despite lacking coercive and material resources. Hatred of Shah Reza Pahlavi similarly induced Iranians to revolt in 1978-1979.
Belief in democracy similarly persuaded Ukrainians to participate in collective rebellions in 2004 and 2013-2014, Russians to engage in mass protests in Moscow and St. Petersburg in 2011-2012, and Belarusians to stage several months of mass demonstrations following a stolen election in 2020-21. In all three cases, democratic beliefs promoted a sense of outrage at the regime, its electoral falsifications, and its political abuses.
The good news is that Russians have avoided free riding and protested in defense of the democratic process. The bad news, unfortunately, is that the last such mass protests occurred 14 years ago. While a few Russians protested Putin’s invasion of Ukraine and several thousand attended opposition leader Alexei Navalny’s funeral, these encouraging actions fall far short of what Iranians, Ukrainians, Belarusians, and Georgians have done.
Why have Russians stopped mass protesting? According to Gessen, it’s because repression has increased: “[P]eople started getting arrested for standing alone with a blank piece of paper, then for ‘liking’ something on social media. Russian journalists used to know that they could write freely as long as they stuck to culture and avoided politics; now a person can get arrested for performing a tune by a banned songwriter.”
Gessen makes an important point—but fails to dig deeper and ask how the soft factors of persuasion have influenced Russians. In other words, we already know that the Putin regime, like that of the ayatollah, quashes dissent. But do Russians even want to rebel?
They certainly have reason to. Putin has created a fascist political system, lost about 1.2 million men in a brutal war against Ukraine, turned the economy into an inefficient appendage of the military, squandered Russia’s ability to project power and court allies in the global south, and reinvigorated European security efforts. A generation of young Russians has fled abroad or lies dead on the battlefield in Ukraine. As Finnish President Alexander Stubb put it: “This war has become a complete strategic failure for Vladimir Putin.” And, by extension, for Russia and Russians.
What, then, is keeping Russians from taking to the streets and questioning authority? If hatred of the regime motivated Iranians and glued the protesters together—and if belief in democracy persuaded Ukrainians, Belarusians, and an earlier generation of Russians to protest—then a lack of a similar unifying emotion or belief may constrain Russians today. Contrast this with instances when Russians have hated and rebelled in the past; the violent, spontaneous seizure of landowner property across the former Russian Empire in 1917 to 1919 is a case in point.
Indeed, Putin remains immensely popular, with approval ratings in the mid-60s to high 80s. Russians may or may not love him, but they clearly continue to hold him in high regard. Insofar as Putin is a dictator, his high approval ratings indicate that today’s Russians don’t hold democracy in the highest regard.
If this is true, it bodes poorly for Russia’s prospects once the war ends, since Russian political culture will continue to hinder the development of democracy. However, collective action theory suggests another path: If a well-endowed, resource-rich strategic group emerges, as has happened at various times in Russian history, it could capture the government and puts its extensive coercive, material, and persuasive resources to good use. This group could entice Russians to participate in democratic collective actions—in other words, democracy—regardless of citizens’ beliefs. Russians could, to borrow from Jean-Jacques Rousseau, be forced or bribed to be free.
Historical examples include the forced democratization of West Germans and Japanese by the occupying powers after World War II; the fast economic gains unleashed by free-market democracy functioned as a material incentive to embrace the new system.
In other words, a democratic or semi-democratic government could use Russia’s ample resources to promote collective democratic action. Is such an outcome conceivable? Yes, but it would presuppose Putin’s departure for natural or political reasons. Russian elites, more so than average Russians, know just how catastrophic Putin’s rule has been. Could they organize a coup d’état? Russian history suggests that the answer is yes. After all, Putin himself was propelled into office in a backroom deal to oust his predecessor, Boris Yeltsin.
From the outcome of the war against Ukraine to Russia’s chances of becoming at least semi-democratic, everything thus depends on Putin’s staying power. A Russian strategic group—that first precondition of any collective action—would do its country and the world a favor by acting before Putin plunges Russia further into the abyss.
