I was on a book panel at an academic conference in November 2020 where I was asked to provide some remarks on this book in conversation with the author. Below are my written notes that I used in that session.
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Personally:
-This is a book written for the modern time and opens itself to an audience that has no personal relationship with the Soviet Union or memory of it.
-This was the first time I read a book about Russia that had personal relevance to me. The first time an author talked about experiences that reflected my own personal encounters in Russia. I am the same age as the author and my first trip to Russia was also in the early aughts.
-I would be remiss to ignore the fact that the author provides a stunning account of the creation of the Levada Center and its importance not only to the Russian Academy but also to generations of American scholars who have relied on their services to navigate the field and receive critical support for everything from research design to finding respondents. As a sociologist, it’s always exciting to see the contributions of sociologists foregrounded in any narrative like this.
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Many of the reviews of this book emphasize the choices that people have in Putin’s Russia, which is true, but I think this is not the full story. I believe it is more accurate to say that this book is not just about personal choice but rather about the tension between structure and agency. To my knowledge, there is little in the canon on contemporary Russia that can be thought of in this way. There are a few notable examples like Olga Shevchenko’s work on Crisis and the Everyday in Postsocialist Moscow and Kathryn Hendley’s Everyday Law in Russia, to name a couple. But this book is a singular example that ties some of the greatest hits of Russian politics and current events of the last 20 years to personal histories and deeper cultural and historical frameworks that cut across many areas of social life and allow us to think critically about structure and agency in contemporary Russian society in a meaningful way.
One of the recurring themes of this book is compromise. In each chapter we are taken on a journey exploring an individual story nested in the context of a larger social or political event or set of circumstances. Each of these stories includes a discussion of individual choices and compromise. Of these examples, there was variation in risk, outcome, and benefit of compromise. However, the dependent variable on these outcomes seemed to be power, specifically the power exercised by state structures. Those in power seemed to benefit most from compromise and those who were essential to the maintenance of power, whether it was through pro-Kremlin media, the church, or human rights organizations in Chechnya, often compromised to the detriment of their cause. This is important because it pushes back on the common, essentialized narrative that the state makes puppets of individuals otherwise engaging in noble work, or even regime-resistant work. Instead, “Between Two Fires” shows how those who resist the regime might come to support the regime or at least be complicit in sustaining it, even tacitly, through their own agency. We know this, because even though we are presented with examples of compromise by leaders in media as told through Ernst’s story, Saratova’s human rights activism, and the church, we are also presented with stories of their colleagues who took another path and, for better or worse, were met with different ends. This book shows how, even in an authoritarian state, even in a space where choices appear to be forced, there is still the choice to opt out of playing along or to opt out of resisting. But even opting out of resistance or obedience is a compromise unto itself as we saw with Elizaveta Glinka.
Importantly, this book seems to argue that current regime, and indeed Putinism, is sustained through compromise. This is important as, again, American media and even policymakers use discursive shorthand to create the impression that the Kremlin is the all-powerful, omnipresent thing that controls life and society all levels. Yet, those of us who go there and study there and understand life “on the ground” know that this is not entirely the case. This book adds nuance to popular American notions about the role of state power and helps answer the question of why Putin has maintained his hold power for so long. We see how power, even the power vertical, is not consolidated in a vacuum -- there are many players involved in everything from messaging, to political analysis, to everyday organizations, cultural and religious life. Every player is engaged in their own version of compromise, even Putin himself. In that same vein, we are not often given the glimpses into Putin’s more retail politicking side in popular American media representations of Russian politics. Even though TV appearances are televised nationally, it is important for an American audience to understand that Putin is not some big scary guy, he is not the boogeyman. He holds town hall style discussions during which he is reassuring, and kind and even helpful. This is important to note especially in an age where regimes around the globe are growing increasingly illiberal. What we think of as democratic or undemocratic behavior is ever more fuzzy. It is important to note that what happens under authoritarianism can look familiar to what happens in more liberal political environments and we see evidence of this all over if we are willing to look for it.
In this way, too, “Between two Fires” is a book that makes the familiar strange and also can make strange the familiar. Another common popular American misconception about Russia today also borne of discursive shorthand is that we have somehow returned to the Soviet Union. Between two fires paints a story not of how the Soviet union is still alive and well in Russia today but rather a story about the durability of social structure. It shows how both micro and macro level processes can sustain themselves when it suits those who are either in a position of power and want to maintain it or those who are seeking to game positions of power. This is perhaps captured best in Chapter 4 (pg 194-5) when Perelovich admits that her conflict with Zubkov was both personal and structural. Russia is not the only place where these things happen, Russia just has a distinctive version of it.