Political Strikes in Germany

By Thomas Klikauer

May 13, 2024

Source: Originally published by Z. Feel free to share widely.


Photo by author

In recent weeks, there has been talks of a return of trade unions in Germany and this is not just because of May Day – the 1st of May – but also because it has been seventy years that the right to strike was enshrined in Germany’s constitution.

The recent strikes, successful negotiation on pay increases, and a small but nevertheless rise in union membership shows that all is going well for Germany’s trade unions – most of which are organized in the 5.7 million member-strong DGB.

Yet, there could still be more political power for trade unions to fight not just for higher wages and better working conditions, but also against Germany’s far-right, and its party – the AfD.

Historically, it has been the trade union movement that was one of the strongest defenders of democracy and human rights. This highlights the importance of the right to strike and of trade unions to protect democracy.

In the wake of recent discussions about the 4-day-workweek, trade unions are again calling for a reduction of working hours. They have placed the reduction of working time at the center of social struggles for a more humane work time and a better work-life balance.

Meanwhile, the times at which corporate bosses told people that they are too old and we don’t want you anymore are coming to an end as acute labor shortages is biting Germany’s labor market. Today, the 4-day-workweek is popular because it attracts new employees.

The days, when workers were no longer “worth anything”, when people were no longer considered fit to work as they got older, and when illnesses set in are gone – for the time being, at least. Those were the days when Germany’s labor courts were busy.

Today, Germany’s federal labor court has turned 70 years old. During those seven decades, Germany’s labor law remained important for Germany’s “social cohesion” – it stabilized capitalism.

Yet, on the issue of industrial action and strikes, German labor law ensures the existence of trade unions and their function to preserve and promote working and economic conditions. And not much more.

Germans call the system that integrates trade unions into the apparatus of capitalism: “social partnership”. During the COVID-19 pandemic, for example, trade unions and employers agreed on a common policy on, for example, “working from home” (WFH) and on the temporary reduction of working hours. For this, Germany’s system relied on strong organizational ties between trade unions and employers.

These strong bonds between labor and capital were put into force in Germany’s constitution, called “The Basic Law” (1949), after the liberation from Nazism.

Nevertheless, German Nazism was generously financed by German companies. The Nazis delivered what capital had paid for, i.e. the physical elimination of trade unions. During the 1930s, the Nazis destroyed trade unions, torturing and murdering trade unionists.

After that, Germany’s post-Nazi labor relations system became known as the so-called Rhenish Capitalism. But then, something interesting and largely unknown happened.

Unsurprisingly, perhaps some elements of Nazi ideology have sieved into Germany’s post-war labor relations and its labor courts. For example, Germany’s rather paternalistic idea of a so-called “company community” may well carry traces of a Nazi’s ideology of a national and corporate “unit of interest”.

Under this ideology, the previously Betriebsführer [company leader] demanded the subordination of the entire workforce to so-called “company or corporate leader”. This in turn, was based on the Nazi’s Führer-Principle with the corporate Führer as the absolute leader with Züchtigungsrecht [corporal punishment].

The “corporate leader” ideology was originally introduced by the Nazis. The term Betriebsfüher marks the language of the Nazi’s Law on the Order of National Labor (1934). Yet, the idea can probably be traced back to well before Nazism – but with different (non-Nazi) connotations.

All of this did not – magically – disappear at the 8th of May 1945 with the liberation of Germany from Nazism. Instead, not just the ideology of Nazism but its people also carried on in post-Nazi Germany. What carried on – often rather undeterred – were plenty of Nazi apparatchiks.

This also included so-called “professional”(!) judges working in Germany’s labor court. No less than fifteen Nazi party (NSDAP) memberships have been found in Germany’s “new” labor court, after the war.

Today, Germany’s labor court is housed in the former East-German state of Thuringia – home of the neofascist Björn Höcke who is a member of Thuringia’s state parliament. Björn Höcke works hard to re-instate the “unspeakable language of Nazism” and to make Nazi terminology “sayable again”.

Meanwhile, the German term “social partnership” might also carry connotations to the Nazi’s Volksgemeinschaft. It is not surprising to find that – based on the ideological leftovers from Nazism – Germany’s labor court was, seemingly, reluctant to deal with the structural imbalance of power between employees and companies.

This remains a key characteristic of what might be termed “Nazi- capitalism” and today’s neoliberal capitalism.

With Nazis, the SS, and the Betriesfüher removed, the ruling elite of post-Nazi Germany, that still included many ex-Nazis, had to find another way to keep workers and trade unions away from the centers of corporate power.

After 1945, they could no longer simply be beaten, tortured, killed, or put into prison and concentration camps.

To enhance this asymmetry between labor and capital further, post-Nazi employers were – and still are – able to spend significant funds on scientific institutes (read: corporate thinktanks), legal, labor relations, and anti-union consultancy, business-legitimizing and semi-academic journals, so-called “independent” expert, often employed by business schools, as well as the vast network of well-paid opinion writers of the corporate press.

Worse, the trade union’s side can hardly match the economic, propaganda, and funding power of German employers. In other words, the so-called “social partners” were never on an equal footing.

The much acclaimed “level playing field” quickly vanishes into thin air. The “social partnership” idea is merely a useful ideology that supports capitalism.

Until today, the “IG Metall” – Germany’s metal workers union – could never match the implicit or explicit power of “Gesamtmetall” – Germany’s employer federation.

The power of Gesamtmetall comes in addition to the corporate power of large metal industry companies like Siemens, the Thyssenkrupp AG, Rheinmetall, Airbus, Bosch, Mercedes-Benz, Volkswagen, BMW, and so on.

Given the structural disadvantage of trade unions vis-à-vis employers, the right to strike and collective bargaining always needs some sort of state support.

Once backed up by the state, a kind of level playing field is established and trade unions are able to put pressure on company bosses. Regardless of all this, the right to strike has done a reasonably good job. It has stabilized German capitalism since WWII.

Most recently, Germany has experienced the train-drivers’ GDL strikes or the strikes of the airport safety workers. There were also strikes in the health care and childcare sector. In all of this, the right of industrial action serves to develop working and economic conditions.

For some reason, a labor relations system is often presented as having “worked well in the history of Germany”.

Yet, there has been a very long period of wage stagnation, virtually no improvements on working time since 1984, and there have been very few strikes in comparison to other European countries for decades. Evil heretics might ask, are more strikes a sign that the system is working?

Unlike Germany, other EU member states are also familiar with something Germany’s capitalism and its supporting institutions fear like the plague: general strikes.

Cunningly, German labor law see a general strike as a “political strike”, i.e. as not directly related to collective bargaining. Perhaps this is a sign of the prevalence of the authoritarian personality that does exist inside Germany’s working class.

On this, Vladimir Lenin wasn’t too far off the mark when he famously joked that,

if German revolutionaries were to storm a railway station,

they would first queue up for a platform ticket.

By comparison in France, there has been a strike in the recent past for the maintenance of the pension system. Yet, in neighboring Germany, the rules of industrial action are way narrower. The simple but effective “Golden Rule” – those with the “gold” rule – of the elite are:strikes for collective agreements are “possible” (read: we, in our generosity, grant you that, always limited, right),

strikes against political conditions are not.

Yet, one might be tempted to speculate that a general strike on the eve of the 31st January 1933 might have meant, Auschwitz would never have happened.

Quite apart from such historical speculations, one might also ask, have the Germans learned from their own history? Does the prevention of a political strike – potentially – aids fascism?

Of course, there have been very legitimate criticisms of the artificially invented separation between political and collective bargaining strikes. A political strike should be allowed, particularly when aimed at a legitimate political goal like:preventing the Nazis from taking over (1933);
the Reichsbürger (neo-Nazis) trying to take over in 2023, and,
against the neofascist AfD from installing an ethnically cleansed Germany (2024).

During post-Nazi Germany, this debate dates back to the disagreement between pro-democracy, resistance fighter, and lawyer Wolfgang Abendroth and Nazi-lawyer and author of a pro-Hitler pamphlet called “Total State” – Ernst Forsthoff.

The debate between Abendroth and one of the most influential men on German labor law – Nazi Forsthoff (Nazi party membership number: 5.285.360, joining Hitler’s party on 1st of May 1937) – dates back to the 1950s. Mind-bogglingly, top-Nazi Forsthoff argued that a political strike would be a violation of the principle of democracy.

A few years earlier, Forsthoff worked so hard to destroy democracy and to put democrats into concentration camps. There is no democracy in Forsthoff’s Total State. In post-Nazi Germany, nobody seemed to mind.

With a Nazi heritage as well as post-Nazi heritage (1950s) like that, Germany’s labor court reached two decisions decades later but shaped by Nazi-ideology – 2002 and 2007 – on banning political strikes. Despite all this, the legal decision on political strikes did not result in a meaningful outcome. The court stonewalled.

Worse, the “conservative spirit” (read: neofascist) lives on through the formation of Germanic legalities about the right to strike in the aftermath of Nazism. In other words, Germany’s right to strike was “decisively” shaped during the 1950s.

The artificial and rather senseless separation between political and collective bargaining strikes – which is still valid today – can be traced back to a so-called “conservative” understanding of labor law (read: a post-Nazi understanding).

Worse, Germany’s non-right to have a political strike is simply “a judge’s decision”. It was carried forward by labor court judges living and breathing the traditions of Nazism. The “tradition” of Nazi ideology shaping labor law was also aided by the removal of anti-Nazi legal scholars.

As Germany’s democratic tradition was destroyed by Hitler, Carl Schmitt, Ernst Forsthoff, etc. and the SS, many democratic labor lawyers – including Hugo Sinzheimer, Franz L. Neumann, and Ernst Fraenkel as well as the labor judge Otto Kahn-Freund were persecuted by the Nazis. They were arrested, murdered or forced into exile, from which they rarely returned to Germany.

By contrast, the post-Nazi judges at Germany’s labor court – appointed “after” 1945 – had “no” or “no serious” experience of persecution after the victory over Nazism. Rather, the opposite was the case. By the mid-1960s, a whopping 80% of all government posts had been filled by lawyers who had worked for and with the Nazi.

As for Germany’s labor court, 14 of the first 25 judges at the court, had worked as Nazi lawyers. In the early years of post-Nazi Germany, they were classified as having so-called “Nazi-related” charges (read: a mild slap on the wrist).

Many had been members of Hitler’s Nazi party, were active in the SA, and worse in the SS. Plenty had passed death sentences and published anti-Semitic texts.

For example, Germany’s post-war president of the labor court and Führer-Principle supporter – Hans Carl Nipperdey, continued a long career in labor law being simply classified “an insignificant burden”. He, too, was furnished with a sanitizing “Persilschein” – a government document that whitewashed ex-Nazis.

Yet, top-Nazi Nipperday was a member of Hitler’s Academy of German Law actively participating in the Nazification of Germany’s labor law.

After Nipperday’s Gleichschaltung during the 1930s, German labor law reflected Nazi ideology. Interestingly, all the other judges of Germany’s post-Nazi labor court had started as Nazi lawyers during the Nazi era.

During the period of Nazi rule, the Nazis operated in a system in which there were simply no trade unions (a clear sign of fascism), let alone a right to strike.

Nevertheless, Nipperdey continued to interpret the right to strike “after” the end of his beloved Nazis. Henceforth, German labor law resumed to reflect the ideology of the Nazis.

Later, the officially called “ex”-Nazi Nipperdey was pursuing the “elimination of the class struggle” – an overarching goal of fascism. Like Forsthoff, he too remained in line with Nazi ideology.

Whether capitalism run by the Nazis or capitalism run during post-war liberal-democracy, German labor law continued with a so-called unity of leaders and followers in a company.

This so-called “company community” was no more than a remodeled and adjusted version of Hitler’s Volksgemeinschaft (society) and Betriebsgemeinschaft (company).

With or without the Führer, capitalism continued undisturbed by trade unions. Ex-Nazi judges and ex-Nazi labor lawyers made sure of that. But there was a problem: without Nipperday’s beloved Führer, Nazi thugs, and the SS, capitalism and its supporting institutions(i.e. labor courts) needed to be modernized during the 1950s.

Since strikes could not be made totally illegal, as they could under the Nazis, ex-Nazi Nipperdey deemed strikes as “an undesirable event”. At the same time, ex-Nazi Nipperdey did not even want to mention the word “strike”.

Yet, strikes are the only means for workers to effectively implement their goals and counteract the structural imbalance between them and an employer.

During a newspaper strike in 1952, it was the leading Nazi-labor-law proponent Nipperdey who dictated the basic features of Germany’s right to strike.

For the ex-Nazi, a strike – which is highly undesirable for Nazi-capitalism as for post-Nazi capitalism – can only be justified if it relates to collective bargaining. In other words, political strikes are forbidden.

As a consequence of the transfer of Nazi ideology (Law of a Nazi Order of Labor) into post-Nazi labor law, the labor court has never dealt with the function of the strike in a democracy. Ex-Nazi Nipperdey carried the anti-democratic ideology of Nazism forward.

Things changed somewhat during the 1980s when Germany’s labor court ruled on the abhorrent idea of a so-called “political strike”. Yet, the restriction on a “political strike”, that came from ex-Nazis like Hans Carl Nipperdey, lives on in Germany’s labor relations to this day.


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Thomas Klikauer has over 800 publications (including 12 books) and writes regularly for BraveNewEurope (Western Europe), the Barricades (Eastern Europe), Buzzflash (USA), Counterpunch (USA), Countercurrents (India), Tikkun (USA), and ZNet (USA). One of his books is on Managerialism (2013).

REST IN POWER

MARIO TRONTI: AN OBITUARY

by Sergio Fontegher Bologna

TRONTI AND NEGRI WERE COMRADES IN FORMING WORKERS POWER

August 18, 2023*

On August 7 Mario Tronti passed away at the age of 92, in the village of Ferentillo, not far from Rome. He was the leading figure of “Italian workerism” (operaismo), the basic tenets of which he expressed in his articles for the journal Quaderni Rossi (Red Notebooks, 1961–1963) and, above all, in his book Operai e capitale (Turin, 1966).2 Anyone interested in how he characterized his thought shortly before his death would do well to watch the video of a discussion with him on June 10th of this year. In this video, we see a man who knows that he has little time left to live.3

This discussion was organized by the Derive&Approdi publishing house, founded in the nineties by a former comrade of Potere Operaio (Workers’ Power). Since then, the publishing house has published all of the most important texts of operaismo and autonomia operaia, in addition to a whole series of contributions and testimonies from former activists, including those who made the transition from autonomia into the armed struggle groups. The fact that Mario Tronti again entered into dialogue with the most radical parts of the extra-parliamentary movement in the last phase of his life exemplifies the parabolic path of his political development quite well.

In 1964, after distancing himself from Raniero Panzieri4 and other founders of Quaderni Rossi, he founded the journal Classe Operaia (Working Class) with Toni Negri, Romano Aquati5 and others, with the aim of building a new revolutionary organization. But after just one year, he suddenly decided to rejoin the Italian Communist Party (PCI), continuing a family tradition he had grown up in. For those of us who had poured all of our energy into the project of creating an alternative to the PCI, which had already set out along the path of social democracy, Tronti’s decision was tantamount to a betrayal. This prompted the crisis within the Classe Operaia group, and we had to stop publishing in 1966. I remember how bitter our disappointment was. Other comrades joined the PCI alongside him, including Massimo Cacciari, Alberto Asor Rosa and Umberto Coldagelli.

There is no doubt that the “operaisti mindset” played a hegemonic role in the Italian workers’ movement in the period from 1969–1973. This hegemony must be emphasized if we are to understand subsequent events, such as the so-called “April 7th affair” and the systematic persecution of former Potere Operaio activists.6 Thus, at the beginning of the 1970s, Mario Tronti vanished from sight just as his theories found their greatest resonance within the social movements.

His decision to rejoin the PCI (in fact, he had never formally left, but was considered a “heretic”) was by no means an opportunistic move. On the contrary, it corresponded to a new phase of his thinking, which found expression in the publication of the short essay entitled “Sull’autonomia del politico” (“On the Autonomy of the Political”, Milan 1977). What does this title mean?

In operaist theory, the relationship between class and organization, working class and party, is constantly called into question by class struggles. The working class achieves an identity only when it comes into conflict with the power of capital; in this way it achieves its autonomy. The collective intelligence it develops allows it to determine both its form of organization and its strategy.

In his short essay, Tronti claims that politics, that is, the traditional organizational form of the workers’ movement, i.e., the party, maintains its own space in which it can operate and pursue its strategy in total autonomy, that is, independently of the class struggles taking place in the social context of capital’s exploitation. Machiavelli, Weber, Rathenau and Carl Schmitt are the authors Tronti uses to develop his argument. Marx and Lenin remained in the background.

With the idea of the “autonomy of the political,” it seemed to us at the time that his thinking had taken an about-face. In the subsequent years, he repeatedly emphasized that his ideas were a continuation of the path he had embarked upon in 1966 and that the idea of the autonomy of the political arose from the crisis of the autonomy of class struggles in the factories.7 In fact, the power relations between the working class and capital had become increasingly complex after the oil crisis of October 1973, and not only in Italy. Even the so-called “movement of 1977”8 was highly critical of the operaist concepts from the 1960s as well as of Marxist ideas in general. Foucault was the new prophet, and feminism also played an important role. But Tronti, Cacciari and Asor Rosa went about their own “critical thinking” differently than Foucault. Max Weber, the Frankfurt School, and Walter Benjamin were their main references. The problem is that their role within the party had no impact on the party leadership’s line and in no way hindered or slowed down the party’s systematic orientation toward neoliberalism. Cacciari fared well as mayor of Venice (especially compared to today’s municipal administrations), and Tronti increasingly focused on his work teaching at the University of Siena. Even a summary analysis of his thought would exceed the scope of this text.9 The various, conflicting interpretations of the meaning of the “autonomy of the political” which ranged from enthusiastic approval to mean-spirited derision constitute a special chapter in Italian political theory. For a better understanding, it is worth watching the recording of the 2017 discussion between Tronti and Cacciari at the House of Culture in Milan10 and reading the small book in which he debates his theory with Toni Negri and Étienne Balibar.11

On the other hand, it must be admitted that even the revolutionary variant of operaismo reached a dead end after 1975. Neither Mario Tronti within the PCI nor Toni Negri within the social movements succeeded in influencing the general course of events. But while Negri’s writings always contained a perspective imbued with hope and the will to fight, Tronti’s works seemed increasingly characterized by an ever-deeper despair. In this sense, his disposition recalls that of Bruno Trentin, the charismatic CGIL trade union leader, who in his posthumously published diaries gives free rein to despair in the face of the decline of socialist values in the Italian workers’ movement, both in his organization and in the party. And yet both men, Tronti and Trentin, maintained fidelity to their organizations.

In 1992, Mario Tronti was elected to the Italian Senate of the Republic12 with more than 80,000 votes, testifying to his popularity among the party base. In 2013, he was again elected to the Senate in the constituency of Lombardy. From this last period in Parliament, his commemorative speech on the centenary of the Russian Revolution in October 2017 remains unforgettable.13 From 2003–2015, he was chairman of the Centro per la Riforma dello Stato (Center for the Reform of the State) Foundation, founded by Pietro Ingrao, one of the great figures of the postwar CPI. He remained a man of institutions until the end: as recently as February of this year, he donated his estate to the archives of the Senate – an institution whose president, as of 13 October 2022, is now the old fascist Ignazio Benito La Russa.

But this is not the end of the story. As a school of thought, operaismo has had a wider reach than that of the operaisti themselves. As a method of research, it was particularly important––and not only in Italy––in the mid-1970s, when the decomposition of the industrial working class began and the incessant precarization and flexibilization of the work force broke the militancy of the mass worker. This is when wage earners and technicians began their struggles in the service industries (in the health care system, in transportation), and medical workers learned from the experience of the workers' councils in the chemical industry and other hazardous sectors. Without the operaist approach, there would not have been journals like Primo maggio (First of May), Quaderni del territorio (Notebooks of the Territory), Sapere (Knowledge) or Classe (Class), which have left quite a mark on historians, urban planners, physicists, and so on. The ecological movement in Italy was initially very strongly influenced by operaismo.

The radical feminism of the group “Wages for Housework”14 was born in the context of Potere Operaio. Even though operaismo was no longer hegemonic, it still played a major role. When the great counter-revolution of capitalism erupted in the early 1980s in all its various forms, when the 1968 generation retreated into private life and all seemed lost, operaismo still survived as rivers carved through limestone, while the persecution of operaist militants and the ensuing diaspora contributed to its spread abroad. Even politically militant tendencies that had a significant impact, such as Lotta Continua (The Struggle Continues), saw themselves in the tradition of operaismo - that of Panzieri rather than Tronti – and thus as the legitimate heirs of Quaderni Rossi.

It is much easier to destroy an organization than to eradicate a school of thought. With the beginning of the new century, the subterranean rivers emerged from their stone karst, and Mario Tronti showed increasing interest in the lessons of the old comrades and the initiatives of the new generation, who found his early writings to be a source of new material for reflection and practical research. This was the case, for example, with my analyses of the independent self-employed or freelance workers, but Tronti also followed the increasing role of logistics in globalization with great curiosity.

He never wavered from his way of thinking. The question of the political was like an obsession for him, his despair had deepened, he described it as “anthropological pessimism,” which made it difficult for him to make himself understood to his “interlocutors, since they interpret it as resignation,” as he says in the video mentioned above. His pessimism was directed against the individualization of society, but a particular kind of individualization whose agents he called “mass individuals.”

His style became increasingly contemplative, and the more politics became a bandit’s game, the more he spoke of its necessity, of its dignity, of its sublimity. For the generations of activists that have succeeded our generation, who have inherited a globalized world and want to continue fighting in the midst of very great difficulties, Mario Tronti has always remained simply the author of Operai e capitale, a “maestro.” On the other hand, for those of us who, regardless of our differences with him, have harbored a most humane compassion for him — and which he reciprocated in turn — it is difficult not to criticize some of his decisions. But we recognize in all his writings, in all his statements, a distinctive style that is always fascinating and thought provoking – even when we disagreed.

Recently, many sections of the working class around the world seem to have once again seized the initiative to contest their exploitation. I believe that wherever such movements spring up, they send us a call in which the soft, gentle voice of Mario Tronti can always be heard, loud and clear.

En.wikipedia.org

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mario_Tronti

Mario Tronti - Wikipedia 

Mario Tronti ... Mario Tronti (24 July 1931 – 7 August 2023) was an Italian philosopher and politician, considered one of the founders of the theory of operaismo ...

Commonnotions.org

https://www.commonnotions.org/the-weapon-of-organization

Weapon of Organization: Mario Tronti - Common Notions Press 

“The Weapon of Organization is a breakthrough in scholarship on Italian workerism, and the recovery of the history of revolutionary theory for the present.

Newstatesman.com

https://www.newstatesman.com/ideas/2023/09/mario-trontis-divine-comedy

Mario Tronti's divine comedy - New Statesman 

Sep 14, 2023 ... Mario Tronti's divine comedy. How the Italian philosopher, who died last month aged 92, turned to theology in his war with the world. By ...

Versobooks.com

https://www.versobooks.com/products/101-workers-and-capital

Workers and Capital | Verso Books 

Far from simply an artefact of the intense political conflicts of the 1960s, Tronti's work offers extraordinary tools for understanding the powerful shifts in ...

Libcom.org

https://libcom.org/article/strategy-refusal-mario-tronti

The strategy of refusal - Mario Tronti | libcom.org 

There must come a point where all will disappear, except one - the demand for power, all power, to the workers, This demand is the highest form of the refusal.

Workingnowandthen.com

https://www.workingnowandthen.com/scholarstudent/reviews/mario-tronti-workerism-and-politics

Mario Tronti, "Workerism and Politics" | Working N... 

In 2006, Italian philosopher Mario Tronti gave a lecture on the theory of workerism, or operaismo, an approach to labor, capital, and politics that he helped ...

Newleftreview.org

https://newleftreview.org/sidecar/posts/a-message-from-the-emperor

Mario Tronti, A Message From the Emperor — Sidecar 

Aug 10, 2023 ... Here, the prophecy has been fulfilled: the medium is the message. The messenger is the proclamation. Only nothing is allowed to come and go, ...

Seagullbooks.org

https://www.seagullbooks.org/our-authors/t/mario-tronti

Mario Tronti | Seagull Books 

Mario Tronti (b. 1931) is best known for his ground-breaking book Workers and Capital (1966). An active member of the Italian Communist Party, Tronti taught ...

Journals.sagepub.com

https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/pdf/10.1177/0896920520911995

Mario Tronti's Copernican Revolution, 50 Years On - Sage... 

Long a household name in Italy, Mario Tronti has finally arrived on Anglo shores. Although his influence has rumbled through social theory and activist ...

The Straussian Character of Post-Soviet Russian Statecraft

The behaviour of post-Soviet Russian statecraft is poorly understood in the Western world. Long gone is the age of clever Kremlinologists.

BYJOSÉ MIGUEL ALONSO-TRABANCO
DECEMBER 19, 2023

Photo: Sergei Bobylev, TASS


The behaviour of post-Soviet Russian statecraft is poorly understood in the Western world. Long gone is the age of clever Kremlinologists —men like George Kennan— whose sober insights shaped Western strategies and policies in the second half of the twentieth century. In the post-Cold War era, it was expected that Russia would follow the path of Westernisation by embracing liberal democracy, free markets, human rights, the so-called “rules-based order” and even the most emblematic flagships of postmodernism. However, Russia has not become a post-historical state like much of North America and Western Europe. Instead, in the last couple of decades, it has acted as an increasingly assertive, revisionist and self-confident great power that does not seek to emulate Washington or Brussels or join the collective West as a junior partner. Since this course of action does not respond to the overzealous gospel of Western liberalism, Russia is often portrayed as a “rogue”, “backward”, “outdated”, “evil”, “un-European” or even “irrational” state. For those unable to transcend such narrow horizons, Russia will always remain a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma.

The prevalence of such oversimplistic and Manichean views reveals an overall lack of a genuine intellectual effort. Without this element, uncovering the reasons and perceptions which have influenced Moscow’s political trajectories in the last couple of decades is an exceedingly arduous undertaking. Far from being only a cognitive shortcoming, these limited opinions have been directing policymaking in much of the collective West. The results —including the eastward expansion of NATO, the invasion of Ukraine, the unprecedented level of intense antagonism between Russia and the West and the strategic reproachment between Russia and China— speak for themselves. Needless to say, Russia can hardly be described as a charitable or altruistic state. In fact, Moscow does not even bother hiding its predatory ruthlessness in contested theatres of engagement. Yet, as an imperial great power that has played a key role in the Eurasian geopolitical Grossraum for centuries, the sources of its conduct deserve to be examined from a more accurate perspective.

Few Western intellectuals have tried to explain contemporary Russia in accordance with a more nuanced and unjudgmental viewpoint. American representatives of political realism —such as Professor John Mearsheimer, Kenneth Waltz and Henry Kissinger— have offered analytical assessments based on the logic of Realpolitik in order to understand Russian statecraft through the lens of national security, high politics and grand strategy. In turn, Canadian scholar Michael Millerman has highlighted the connection between Russian foreign policy and Russian philosophical thinking. Specifically, Millerman’s work has scrutinised the theories of Aleksander Dugin, the leading ideologue of Eurasianism as an alternative geopolitical project which intends to position Russia as civilisational and strategic counterweight to Atlanticism. These contributions represent valuable stepping-stones towards a better and deeper understanding. However, the development of a more in-depth scrutiny requires the integration of complementary perspectives. The purpose of this analysis is not to contradict the ideas of the aforementioned thinkers, but to offer additional elements than can sharpen, strengthen and calibrate the existing explanatory arsenal that is used to study the evolution of post-Soviet Russia. A more holistic guide for the perplexed is needed.

In this regard, this assessment holds that the teachings of German-American philosopher Leo Strausss provide an analytical framework that is helpful to interpret Russian statecraft. At first glance, Professor Strauss is an unlikely and maybe even counterintuitive candidate as a prophet of Kremlinology. First and foremost, Strauss was as a scholar of classical political philosophy. As such, his work seldom addressed the leading issues of the twentieth century. He had more to say about the lessons found in the writings of Plato, Aristotle, Thucydides, Xenophon, Maimonides, Al-Farabi and Machiavelli than about the Cold War’s geopolitical, strategic or ideological realities. Furthermore, his ideas are often maligned because of their supposed association with the militant neoconservative movement and its responsibility for disastrous endeavours like the Anglo-American of Iraq. However, said connection is inaccurate and, if anything, based on a distorted vision of his thought. Strauss believed in wisdom and moderation as cardinal virtues in statesmanship, not in a neo-Trotskyist permanent revolution inspired by a megalomaniac messianic fervour. In fact, his ideas were more influenced by the wisdom of the ancients and key authors who developed —directly or indirectly— the so-called ‘conservative revolution’ in Weimar Germany (Nietzsche, Hegel, Heidegger, Spengler and Schmitt) than by the Kantian acolytes of Wilsonian idealism. Leo Strauss was hardly the herald of people like Annalena Baerbock, Anne Applebaum or Victoria Nuland. Furthermore, he never endorsed a worldwide crusade to remake the world’s political systems. In fact, he supported a plurality of political models rather than uniformity. For Strauss, the prospect of global homogeneity literally represented the end of man and the ultimate death of philosophy, understood as intellectual contemplation.

This analysis constitutes an attempt to understand Russia through a perspective that does not respond to the commonplace views of conventional Westernist ‘democratism’. This pursuit is pertinent, not just as an intellectual quest, but as necessity of pragmatic expediency. Relations between Russia and the collective West are likely to remain adversarial for the foreseeable future because their geopolitical imperatives are incompatible under the current status quo. Even the end of the Ukraine War will not diminish strategic competition in Eastern Europe and several corners of the post-Soviet space. However, perhaps this rivalry can be managed so that strategic stability within the international system can be preserved. Hence, Straussian thinking can be instrumental for the rise of a new school of Kremlinology that brings more clarity for policymaking. Specifically, there are four theoretical principles found in Straussian teachings that can enlighten emerging generations of Western Kremlinologists: 1) the reassertion of traditionalism; 2) elite rule; 3) the rejection of unipolar cosmopolitanism and 4) the dangerous nature of the human condition. The ensuing contents discuss why and how each of them is relevant for a serious reading of post-Soviet Russian statecraft. In each case, a summary of key Straussian philosophical teachings is followed by observations that explain their empirical reflection in today’s Russia.

The Reassertion of Traditionalism

Leo Strauss was an outspoken opponent of liberal modernity and everything it stands for. According to Straussian thinking, modernity is the vulgar age in which frivolity, entertainment, degradation, comfort, triviality, emptiness, permissiveness, leisure, commercialism, pacifism and complacency have triumphed. Therefore, the Nietzschean ‘last man’ —the quintessential avatar of modernity— is a contemptible creature in whose nihilistic existence there is nothing worth fighting for. Rather than the fulfilment of a grandiose promise of ‘progress’, modernity represents a major crisis that has brought the fall of man and eclipsed the wisdom of the ancients. Therefore, abandoning the metaphorical caves of liberalism requires the rediscovery of pre-modern wisdom. Specifically, Straussian teachings emphasise that relearning the philosophical lessons from classical antiquity is the key source of inspiration for the restoration of vitality, resolve, morale and purposefulness. Yet, this is not only an intellectual journey. The chains of modernity must be broken so that the Promethean pursuit of human excellence can flourish. Moreover, Straussian teachings underscore that the weight of history —and the scrutiny of its instructive lessons— matters as a navigational compass for statesmanship.

Likewise, Strauss is an opponent of the so-called ‘open society’, one of modernity’s most worshipped totems. The values of an open society impoverish the seriousness of political life and embracing them can only lead to terminal decline. In contrast, Strauss holds that a closed society encourages exceptional qualities that raise the strength of the human spirit, including loyalty, virtue, wisdom, discipline, patriotism, the nobility of effort and honour. Rather than seeking wealth or prosperity, a closed society is focused on the collective pursuit of political outcomes, even if that quest leads to sacrifices for the sake of the greater good. As the concept suggests, the existential horizon of a closed society is confined to the substance of a particular national state whose cultural heritage, unique identity, traditional values and historical sources of inspiration are to be cherished. A polity whose closedness is extinguished is headed in the corrosive direction of decay, weakness, dissolution or even external predation. Only the martial virtues of a closed society can nurture the Spartan-like warrior ethos that a polity needs to ensure its greatness.

If is debatable if Russia is a modern national state. A long-range appraisal reveals ambivalent answers. Russia has experimented with recipes derived from two ideologies born in the cradle of modernity: socialism during the decades of the Soviet era and liberalism in the late 20th century. However, the results of experiments based on both models turned out to be counterproductive. First, the implosion of the Soviet Union was not just a tectonic “geopolitical catastrophe” for Russian national interests. It also represented the death knell of a declining and decrepit system —anchored to the ideological prism of Marxist-Leninist socialism— whose contradictions, failures and bankruptcies had become impossible to overcome. Second, the ensuing liberal era of ‘Weimar Russia’ exacerbated existing problems like political turmoil, economic stagnancy, corruption, interethnic tensions, falling birth rates, substance abuse, disarray, organised crime and prostitution. In contrast, post-Cold War Russian statecraft has had favourable experiences with non-liberal aspects of modernity. In fact, the complex nature of the Kremlin’s geopolitical strategies in this period can be described as exceedingly modern. In the increasingly confrontational chessboard of strategic competition, Moscow relies on sophisticated policies which embrace technological change, adaptation to the changing Zeitgeist of international politics, and the weaponisation of various vectors of complex interdependence (such as energy, social media platforms, migratory flows, finance and money).

On the other hand, Russian policy no longer intends to remake the national character in accordance with the liberal ideological tenets preached by the high priests of modernity in Washington, Davos and Brussels. In fact, the Russian state is rejecting Western trends like secularism, technocratic policymaking, open borders, feminism, the LGBT movement and militant “wokeness”. Some of these are even regarded as instruments of political, propagandistic and ideological subversion ran by Western powers. From the Russian perspective, the Western world is akin to a fallen angel that —driven by intellectual pride— has forsaken its heritage, identity, traditions and religion, all of which have been sacrificed at the altar of ‘progress’. Russia is not interested in sharing the post-historical fate of Western ‘open societies’. In opposition to such creed, Russia has embraced a return to older traditions as sources of guidance, authority, inspiration, symbols and referential frameworks that can fuel the revitalisation of the Russian national state.

This emerging neo-traditionalist Weltanschauung —which seeks to emphasise the uniqueness of the country— encompasses a series of overlapping identitarian underpinnings. Russia is evoking its legacy as the heir to the Byzantine Empire, which outlived the Western Roman Empire for a millennium. With Moscow as the ‘third Rome’, the Russian Federation intends to position itself as an Eastern great power, bulwark of Orthodox Christianity and multi-ethnic empire. In addition, the doctrine of Eurasianism states that Russia is more than a national state. According to this vision, Russia is a natural conservative tellurocracy which operates as an organic civilisational pole whose historical development has blended European and Asian components. Likewise, Russia is also harnessing the strength of nationalism to encourage pride and morale. Such course of action includes the heroic portrayal of Russian historic achievements —such as military victories and acts of conquest— and the celebration of figures like Peter the Great.

Needless to say, these views are not merely ideological. They are consistent with the Kremlin’s foreign policy in the ‘near abroad’, the projection of Russian ‘soft power’ and its strategic opposition to the league of liberal Atlanticist thalassocracies. Ultimately, Russia aspires to emulate the triumph of Sparta —a militaristic and aristocratic monarchy— against Athenian cosmopolitan democracy in the Peloponnesian War. Therefore, a neo-traditionalist revival must be pragmatically read as an attempt to restore the status of Russia as a key player in international politics and to revert the strategic setbacks provoked by the dissolution of the USSR, but also to counter pressing societal problems such as an impeding demographic contraction. Furthermore, the worldview of Russian neo-traditionalism is also reflected in the implementation of domestic policies. In fact, the Russian state officially supports religiosity, family values and traditional gender roles.

Elite Rule

For Professor Leo Strauss, the distinction between democratic and authoritarian political mores is often a cartoonish oversimplification. According to Straussian thinking, everything that overzealous liberal democrats disapprove of is portrayed as ‘authoritarian’. Much like Plato, Leo Strauss revers the figure of philosopher kings as ruling elites. Their position is determined not by their privileged upbringing, heritage or wealth. Instead, philosopher kings are exceptional men who embody the traditional archetypes of both the warrior (action) and the ascetic (intellectual contemplation). As such, they are enlightened by their superior knowledge of greater truths that the vulgar are unable to grasp. Their profound understanding of complex matters, hidden realities, dangerous affairs, and harsh revelations that the uninitiated are not aware of gives them a worldly wisdom for the masterful practice of statesmanship. These rulers are able to gaze into the depth of abyss without losing their unperturbed stoic temper and to still perform diligently. Their rule does not seek to please the fluctuating whims of public opinion, but to do what is needed to satisfy the national interest of the state.

During the 90s, Russia tried to reform its system of political governance and the structure of its economy in accordance with Western standards. However, said experiment failed to deliver essential public goods like order and prosperity. Judging by their disappointing outcomes, such efforts were largely discredited. For all intents and purposes, Russia rejected liberal democracy as a model worth replicating because it was utterly dysfunctional for its geopolitical, historical, societal, idiosyncratic and strategic conditions. Russian scepticism about the universalisation of Western liberal political dogmas is unapologetic. Actually, it seems that, from the Kremlin’s perspective, the march towards ‘the end of history’ —championed by the so-called ‘Davos men’— is a sanctimonious “cocktail of ignorance, arrogance, vanity and hypocrisy”.

In this regard, the regime built by President Vladimir Putin and the Siloviki clan can be described as a neo-Caesarist securocracy. This hermetic ruling elite is integrated by former KGB spooks involved in foreign intelligence activities during the Cold War. The rise of these cadres to power in a moment of deep crisis is not surprising if once considers that they represented —by far— the most competent and better trained personnel of the Soviet regime. Unlike Commissars and Party apparatchiks, KGB operatives were pragmatists whose fierce performance responded to the necessities of raison d’état rather than to ideological abstractions or preferences. Their word-class expertise was also forged by fire in some of the world’s most challenging flashpoints. Accordingly, the esoteric tradecraft of these people includes the arcane arts of espionage, covert action (‘active measures’), duplicity, conspiratorial intrigues, unconventional warfare and psychological operations. In fact, their fateful takeover of the Russian government at the dawn of the 21st century can likely be explained not just as the result of impersonal forces, but as a political masterstroke orchestrated thanks to the clandestine operational dexterity of these men.

Moreover, an exegesis of the policies implemented by this ruling elite indicates a worldview shaped by the principles of hardcore political realism. The members of the Russian ‘deep state’ live in a Machiavellian intellectual universe in which malice, secrecy, ruthlessness, threats, Faustian pacts, amoral calculations, deception, skullduggery and all sorts of ‘dark arts’ are necessary ingredients of politics and statecraft. In contrast, self-righteousness is a recipe for disaster in such cloak-and-dagger world. Hence, the authority of this elite has not been justified through democratic processes or by political popularity. In fact, the willingness and ability of doing what it takes to secure order, retain control, pursue the national interest and confront enemies is perhaps the strongest source of legitimacy for the Siloviki cabal. As the spectre of Leo Strauss is haunting Moscow, the rule of the Russian spy kings is seemingly here to stay.

Rejection of Unipolar Cosmopolitanism

Contrary to what is commonly believed, Leo Strauss was not a supporter of Quixotic quests for global imperial domination by any regime. He never endorsed any crusade to remake all political systems in accordance with a homogeneous blueprint. In fact, he was fiercely opposed to the prospect of a supranational state populated by ‘citizens of the world’ that have been detached from any connections to particular polities. For Strauss, the hypothetical fulfilment of liberal or socialist cosmopolitanism as a model of world order would represent a dystopian tyrannical threat that could only exist under the ironclad control of a Soviet-like bureaucratic dictatorship. Even worse, according to Straussian thinking, such nightmare —seen as unnatural because it neglects key traits which define the human condition— would lead to the ultimate death of philosophy. Under such conditions, the pursuit of intellectual contemplation, the proliferation of inquiry and the discovery of greater truths would never be possible. In short, Straussian teachings are antithetical to the ideas pushed by the likes of Immanuel Kant, Karl Popper, George Soros, Klaus Shwab or Yuval Noah Harari.

Far from preserving diversity, the globalisation of the ‘open society’ would bring an enforced uniformity that abolishes distinctions, plurality, contrasts, the need for noble deeds and identities, as well as both history and politics. Once history has been buried by the tempting promise of everlasting universal happiness, there would be no need for political struggles under the grey rule of a global tyranny presenting itself as ‘benevolent’. However, Leo Strauss prophesises that plans fuelled by globalist aspirations will invariably elicit the backlash of those that refuse to submit. In fact, he anticipates the prospect that growing opposition to universalist schemes and their sophistry will eventually ensure their demise. Even if this project were to be launched by a democracy, that would not make it any better or sugarcoat its undesirability. Strauss himself acknowledged that even democracies can give birth to imperialistic projects. Together, these arguments convincingly show that Straussian teachings reject the convenience and feasibility of a unipolar hegemonic configuration.

In this regard, the Soviet Union was a superpower interested in the pursuit of global hegemony. In contrast, the Russian Federation does not intend to achieve world domination or even to recreate the USSR. However, Russia is trying to reassert itself as the leading power of the post-Soviet space, especially throughout the so-called “Russian world”. Although it is nowhere near the US and China in many fields of national power, Moscow has the strength, assets and influence to operate as a major player in the global geopolitical chessboard. As such, Russian statecraft has been incrementally challenging Washington’s attempts to establish a hegemonic unipolar order and to remake the world in its image and likeness. Russia does not seek to overtake the US, only to advance a multipolar correlation of forces under which it can act as one of the key epicentres. Interestingly, the Kremlin is willing to partner with anybody —including state and nonstate actors— interested in undercutting US power, regardless of their civilisational, ideological or religious affiliations. In this Schmittian rejection of Western Atlanticism and everything it stands for, the beliefs held by the regimes of states like Brazil, China, Cuba, India, Iran, North Korea, Serbia, South Africa, Syria, Turkey or Venezuela are inconsequential as long as they oppose unipolarity and its pretensions to freeze history. This course of action reveals not just the pragmatic calculations of traditional Realpolitik, but also a resolved struggle to rollback the influence of a project focused on the universal expansion of the ‘open society’.

Considering the bilateral balance of power, Moscow’s response to American hegemonic pretensions is asymmetric, but its intensity has grown. This is reflected in the reliance of the Kremlin’s revisionist schemes on an arsenal which includes covert means, a myriad of unconventional power projection vectors, military force and even nuclear sabre-rattling. In short, Russia is aggressively contesting the vision of a unipolar world order undergirded by cosmopolitan liberalism as its official missionary ideology. Accordingly, rather than adopting post-historical Western models as a follower, Russia’s ‘heretical’ attitude seems determined to overturn them. Yet, there is an important nuance that deserves to be highlighted. For Russia, this rivalry is no Apocalyptic crusade or kamikaze mission. Actually, Moscow has hinted that perhaps a deal for the redistribution of spheres of influence can be negotiated in order to achieve a reasonable accommodation with the West. Thus, from the Kremlin’s perspective, it would be preferable to deal with pragmatic Western nationalist forces rather than with the uncompromising apostles and inquisitors trying to convert barbarians to the “one true faith” of universalist liberalism.

The Dangerous Nature of the Human Condition

Leo Strauss was no scholar of contemporary international relations or geopolitics, let alone Kremlinology. Nevertheless, as a student of political philosophy, the exegesis of his teachings reveals a mindset that is close to what the so-called realist school has to say. Not unlike hardcore classical realists, Strauss acknowledges the existence of hierarchies, the subordination of the weak by the strong, the amoral character of statecraft, human baseness and the propensity for conflict as permanent features of politics. As a crypto-realist with a Nietzschean twist, Strauss supported the views of Thrasymachus, Thucydides and Machiavelli about the rule of the powerful as the natural order of things in the political sphere. In accordance with this logic, justice is little more than the advantage of the mighty. Under such conditions, political lifeforms have no choice but to fight in order to pursue their interests, enhance their preparedness, preserve their vitality and uphold what they believe is right. In other words, polities can either embrace danger or perish as a consequence of their folly and/or cowardice. As a result, the practice of statesmanship responds to the particular priorities and preferences of a polity, but not to universalistic expectations. Nevertheless, Strauss never glorified warmongering. He simply recognised politics as an intrinsically confrontational realm whose circumstances often require the decisive ability to overcome risk-aversion in matters of life and death. These perspectives are fully compatible with the philosophical underpinnings of what classical realist thinking is all about. Yet, unlike most realists, Strauss emphasised the importance of ideological motivation to strengthen national morale in engagements which demand a substantial mobilisation of effort.

Interestingly, there are other revealing connections between Straussian teachings and realism as a school of thought. Leo Strauss was an avid student of Thucydides’ writings about the Peloponnesian War. For the German-American philosopher, the work of Thucydides was more than a foundational treatise of realist theory. In his view, such source of ancient wisdom imparted timeless lessons about statecraft, history, human nature and the virtues of the warrior spirit, as well as the importance of attributes like prowess, resolve, and courage in the quest for greatness. In addition, Hans Morgenthau thanked Leo Strauss for his contribution to the introduction of Politics Among Nations, a seminal text which presents the theoretical principles of classical realism. The intellectual cornerstone which underwrites this specific branch of realism is an anthropologically pessimistic conception of human nature due the sinfulness of man and his quintessential condition as a political creature. As Carl Schmitt observed, “all serious political theories presuppose man to be evil”. Moreover, the quasi-Nietzschean concept of the ‘Animus Dominandi’ —put forward by Morgenthau and understood as the natural inclination of humans to subordinate their peers— is fully aligned with the spirit of Straussian teachings.

Post-Cold War Russian statecraft is a textbook example of Darwinian Realpolitik. This inclination is the natural consequence of Russian history, shaped by imperial traditions, intense geopolitical rivalries and the constant threat of invasions. Moscow’s foreign policy, national security and grand strategy are driven by the need to prepare for confrontation against hostile forces and to prevent an eventual encirclement of the motherland. As an assertive and self-confident player in the arena of high politics, the Kremlin believes that being feared is a wise course of action that will deter potential enemies. In turn, Russia intends to subordinate neighbouring weaker states by integrating them into its orbit in one way or another and, at the same time, it refuses to capitulate before stronger counterparts like the US. When Moscow’s arm-twisting tactics do not produce the expected outcomes, the Russians are willing to flirt with danger by embracing war as an instrument of statecraft. From Moscow’s perspective, it is preferable to fight in a vicious jungle as a predator than to assume a subservient role in a neo-Edenic garden in which rules made by others are selectively implemented. Better to reign in its own hell than to serve in the Westernist heaven. Unsurprisingly, the proportion of Russian citizens willing to fight for the country is way higher than in many Western European states. Rather than following the path of the ‘last man’, Russian wants to be amongst the last men standing.

In some cases —including Chechnya, Georgia, Kazakhstan and Syria— Russian military interventions have been successful. Concerning the invasion of Ukraine and its fallout, President Putin and his ruling elite made a risky gamble, but they are convinced that the conflict is worth fighting. The war offers a window of opportunity to remake the global balance of power and to achieve beneficial facts on the ground even if that comes with the risks and costs of challenging NATO. However, the Russians are not suicidal or megalomaniac. Moscow’s pragmatic aims are rather limited. The idea of Russian tanks overrunning Warsaw or even Lviv is out of touch with reality. Russians lack the appetite for an ominous conflict which might directly spark a nuclear Armageddon. Nonetheless, if necessary, they are prepared to fight to make sure their national interests prevail, especially in the so-called ‘near abroad’. As a neo-Spartan polity, Russia expects to prevail against Athen’s spiritual heirs in the West because the balance of resolve and its pool of resources favour the commitment of its war effort. Still, as is often the case in the art of war, only time will tell if this aggressive bid leads to glory or to ruin. If the war effort backfires or in the case of a pyrrhic victory, Vladimir Putin will have a lot to answer for, both politically and historically. But if Russia eventually manages to prevail in any meaningful way, he will be seen by posterity as a successful —and implacable— statesman that performed proficiently.

Conclusions

Understanding post-Cold War Russian statecraft under the Vladimir Putin is a challenging intellectual task whose complexity requires transgressing the myopic and self-righteous horizon of liberalism. In fact, an in-depth examination reveals that contemporary Russia has followed an increasingly Straussian trajectory in more than one respect. Certainly, that does not mean that Leo Strauss is somehow the posthumous sinister mastermind of Moscow’s behaviour. Strauss passed away nearly three decades before the collapse of the Soviet Union. Likewise, President Putin and his court of spy kings may not even be remotely familiar with Strauss’ obscure writings, especially considering his undeserved reputation as the patriarch of neoconservatism. Yet, there is a substantial degree of uncanny resemblance between key Straussian principles and the behaviour of the Russian state. Accordingly, the instructive insights found in the philosophical teachings of the German-American Professor offer a sharp referential framework whose interpretative merits can help decipher the underlying logic and qualities of the Kremlin’s strategic playbook. The Straussian philosophical worldview has turned out to be a powerful key which can unlock some of the cryptic matters of contemporary Kremlinology and perhaps also to recalibrate the examination of other illiberal states, including China and Iran. This usefulness highlights the relevance of the far-sighted lessons of Straussian thinking not just for scholars, but also for practitioners involved in foreign policy, intelligence analysis and national security. An increasingly illiberal world in which illiberal states are acting in accordance with illiberal rationales requires a profound knowledge of illiberal political science for analytical, predictive and prescriptive purposes.