The victory parade in Moscow hasn't changed its rituals since the time of Brezhnev and Krushchev, it seems. The minister of defense, adorned in medals and epaulets like a Christmas tree, greeted the soldiers from his cabriolet; high officers from the various types of military formations marched in procession alongside spectacular war machines, and Dear Leader gave an inspiring speech.
However, you needn't even look too closely to notice that some other things are back from the Cold War as well: although this was the 70th anniversary of the victory in WW2, the main allies (UK, USA, France) did not send their representatives to stand beside Putin. All of them had said, some direcly, others under various pretexts, that their decision not to come to Moscow was a consequence of Russia's aggression in Ukraine. So this was the first victory jubilee to lack any leaders from allied countries (China doesn't count).
The celebration of the victory over Nazism (which actually happened on May 8 when the war was de facto over, while Germany finally surrendered the next day), is happening at a time when relations are tense, the situation in Ukraine remains unstable, and the international community is divided - with symbols that some worship, while others reject.
There was a sigh of relief among the liberal Russian community (or what has remained of it) that North Korea leader Kim Jong Un also decided to stay home. Granted, few had expected such a visit to happen anyway. Kim usually doesn't travel abroad too much, and he even
snubbed the Mongolian president who had come to Pyongyang (why exactly he did that, is a whole other story).
But the bigger insult is that Putin's closest ally, Belarussian president Lukashenko also chose to stay home at the last moment. Not surprisingly, Ukraine didn't send anyone, either. In fact, Petro Poroshenko demonstratively
commemorated the event in cousin country Poland.
Still, there's one ray of light for the Russian hosts: Angela Merkel decided to visit Moscow after all, even if only a day after the celebrations - she'll pay her respect to a memorial. Of course, her main purpose is to meet Putin once more, and discuss Ukraine.
The thing is, all these absences won't affect the Russian leadrship too much. In fact they had been prepared for that. All of this only influences Russia's image in the eyes of those who were already critical to it anyway. Sure, it's an embarrassment of some sorts, but this minor discomfort must've been taken into account, and accepted as part of the whole package when the top guys in the Kremlin were taking the key decisions on the Ukrainian situation.
Most European countries did send their lesser envoys - mostly ambassadors. In the current de facto Cold War v.2.0 situation, this level of representation seems the most appropriate. Russia has lost all its European allies (even Hungary's Viktor Orban chose to stay home), and this can't end well for Putin. Even in his pompous splendour, he looked somewhat lonely on that high pedestal while he was delivering his speech.
Still, we couldn't say that Russia has completely forgotten about the allies who also fought against Nazism. A month before the celebration, the Russian TVs were showing documentaries where veterans would recall of the US planes and the tough Studebaker trucks that became platforms for the famous Katyusha guns. The US contribution for the victory wasn't insignificant at all. From 1943 onwards, the US supplied equipment, materials and food then worth $11 bn (now the equivalent of hundreds of billions).
The delicate relations between Russia and the US didn't stop a conference from happening in Russia, which was dedicated to the 70th anniversary of the rendez-vous between the US and Soviet armies at the banks of the Elbe in Germany. The US ambassador in Russia, John Tefft met with local veterans, and in his speech he remarked about "the heroism of the Soviet people".
Naturally, that part didn't pass without problems, either. The Russian authorities tried to cancel an exhibition in Yekaterinburg, dedicated to the joint struggle of the USSR and USA against Nazism. The reason sounded pretty absurd: the local museum was working in collaboration with the US and British embassies. The city mayor Yevgeny Roizman, one of the few representatives of the opposition in the local cabinet, called the responsible bureaucrats "people who have the anti-Americanism disease".
Apart from all the soldiers and military equipment that marched on the Red Square today, there was another planned event, the so called "
Forgotten Regiment". It included ordinary people, from actual surviving veterans to relatives of soldiers who had died in the war, all of them carrying the portraits of the heroes - a sort of way to preserve the family history and dignity.
Now, 70 years after the end of the war, there are just a handful of veterans and participants in WW2 remaining alive. Those who were about 18 at the time, are in their 90s now. But the personal recollection of the millions of war victims, both soldiers and civilians, has started giving way to the more official approach to the commemoration.
A recent research of the independent Levada Center shows that an increasing number of Russians believe that May 9 is more a state holiday rather than a people's tradition. One that's to be commemorated with parades and pompous festivities, not one that's about keeping the memory alive of those who had given their life in the war. The number of people who are concerned for the veterans' well-being has dropped from 56% in 2010 to 49% today; those mourning the victims has dropped to 18%. Conversely, the number of Russians who consider the protocols of the secret
Molotov-Ribbentrop pact to be "a fake", has increased to 17%.
Putin himself is a reflection of the controversial attitude to this event. Just before the celebrations, he published an essay written by his father, himself a war veteran, who argued that despite the horrors of war, he never really felt disdain or hatred for the Germans, whom he had just "chased around the battlefield". In the meantime, despite these personal recollections, the president did his best to use the event as a symbol of the nation's unity, and to consolidate his grip on hearts and minds at home, especially after the controversial Russian actions in Ukraine.
And he did need that. After he saw Europe and America's support for Ukraine, he figured Russia should show some muscle and demonstrate to the world that the Big Bear is not to be played with. This celebration was not about nostalgy, as much as a desire to show that Russia will survive and prevail, no matter what.
The choice of symbols played a big role in this show-off. The
Ribbon of St. George was probably the most notable one. That's the black-and-orange ribbon from the Medal of St. George, previously used by the Tzarist army. At the eve of the celebrations it was hanged from many buildings in the centre of Moscow. People pinned it to their clothes and put it on their cars.
A few years ago, the Ribbon of St. George was re-invented as an informal symbol of May 9, and most people used to wear it spontaneously. After the Russian separatists in East Ukraine chose it for their symbol, the attitude to the ribbon changed. For instance, when a random Facebook user posted it on his wall, that caused an outcry. Another symbol that causes both hatred and worship is Stalin. There were no Stalin portraits anywhere around the celebrations (and there are no streets, towns or anything named after Stalin anywhere in Russia - much unlike Lenin, which says a lot), but surprisingly, Stalin's portrait started showing up in various remote corners of the country, and the local authorities were obviously turning a blind eye to all that.
Still, it would be an exaggeration to claim that the cult to Stalin has been resurrected in Russia. Almost all Russians agree that his reign was a time of horror, which shouldn't be repeated. Indeed, the official position on Stalin's legacy is best shown in a recent propaganda movie, The President. There's a scene where Putin lays flowers at a memorial to the victims of Stalin's repressions in the 30s.
In the meantime, in the Museum of the Red Army in Moscow, which is being run by the Ministry of Defense, the visitors could easily buy souvenirs with Stalin's image on them - tea cups, plates, lighters and keyholders. When I asked an LJ pal if Stalin is really the best hero worth emulating, he responded, "No? And ho is?"