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Yakov Rabkin: I left the USSR to enjoy free speech in the West. Fifty years later, it no longer exists Unfreedom: Fifty Years Later
(1 day later)
In the 1970s, the Soviets made it impossible to access the foreign press. Now the US-led bloc is doing the same with Russian media.In the 1970s, the Soviets made it impossible to access the foreign press. Now the US-led bloc is doing the same with Russian media.
Fifty years ago I left the Soviet Union for one reason: My desire for freedom. I was disgusted by the one-sided world view fostered by the banning of foreign publications and the jamming of Western radio stations. The obedient media, toeing the party line, repulsed me and made me laugh. Nearly fifty years ago I emigrated from the Soviet Union. My only reason for leaving all that was known to me was a deep longing for freedom of expression. I resented restrictions on foreign publications and deplored the practice of jamming foreign radio stations like the BCC World Service or Radio Canada International. It was as if the media were just obediently regurgitating the party line, with no room for real discussion or debate. Sure, the authorities weren’t as oppressive as they were during Stalin’s reign, but a lingering fear remained. It cast a shadow over political discussions, confining them to a small circle of trusted friends. Expressing our true thoughts and opinions felt like walking a tightrope.
Fear of the authorities (even if they were far more "vegetarian" than in Stalinist times) restricted open discussion of politics to the "kitchen cabinet,” with a small circle of trusted friends. I left behind my native city of Leningrad (now Saint-Petersburg), my friends, my brother, the tombs of my parents and grandparents. It was risky to apply for emigration since one would almost always lose employment and find oneself socially ostracized while remaining uncertain if Soviet authorities would grant the exit visa. I was lucky. Within a few months, in May 1973 I was stripped of Soviet citizenship and allowed to purchase a one-way ticket to Vienna. My dream of freedom was fulfilled. The first thing I bought in Vienna was a copy of The International Herald Tribune.
I left behind my hometown (then Leningrad, now St Petersburg), my friends, my brother and the graves of my parents and grandparents. Applying to emigrate meant taking a risk, because you almost always risked losing your job, many friends and even relatives, with no guarantee that you would even be granted an exit visa. In November 1973 I joined the University of Montreal, my professional home ever since. Beyond teaching and research, I eagerly followed political debates about the Vietnam War, the CIA-organized overthrow of the Allende government in Chile, the fallout from the October War in Israel. Debates raged about the U.S. overtures to China, and, of course, about the relations with my former country. Some praised the Brezhnev-Nixon détente, others worried about its pitfalls.
I was lucky. Just a few months later, my Soviet citizenship was revoked and I was able to buy a one-way train ticket to Vienna. My dream of freedom had come true. Although I was only allowed to take $140 out of the Soviet Union, the first thing I bought in Austria was a copy of the International Herald Tribune newspaper.  What impressed me most was the variety of opinions that found their way into newspaper pages and TV screens. Op-ed articles and letters to the editor offered a broad gamut of views, some of them not only criticizing policies but offering viable alternatives. Soon I began to voice my opinion, first in letters to the editor, later in op-ed articles. It was inebriating to assume my civic and intellectual responsibility partaking in free political debate.
In November 1973, I joined the University of Montreal, which has since become my professional home. In addition to teaching and research, I followed with interest the political debates about the Vietnam War, the CIA's role in overthrowing the Salvador Allende government in Chile, and the implications of the October War in the Middle East. Debate raged over America's flirtation with China and, of course, relations with my own country. Some praised the Brezhnev-Nixon détente, others feared its pitfalls. Today, this freedom is being eroded with respect to several foreign policy issues. One is Israel. Journalists and politicians think twice before criticizing it. They fear to be accused of antisemitism. In the early 1970s, Abba Eban, the eloquent South Africa-born Israeli foreign minister, developed a strategy to stifle criticism of his country by accusing critics of antisemitism. This strategy has since triumphed: today, qualifying Israel’s treatment of the Palestinians as apartheid, or even peaceful boycott of Israeli products in the supermarket, are officially banned as antisemitic in many Western countries. This makes Israel exceptional and shields it from rational debate.
What struck me most in the newspapers and on television was the diversity of opinion. Letters to the editor offered a wide range of viewpoints, some of which not only criticized Western policies but also offered alternatives. It wasn't long before I began to express my own views, first in letters to publications and then in articles. I was excited by the opportunity to engage in free political debate and to make my contribution as a citizen and a scholar. After all, society had created the conditions for me to share the results of my research and observations broadly. Another even more important issue that has disappeared from rational public debate is Western policy towards Russia. This issue is more important not only because Russia is bigger, but because it involves a potential nuclear annihilation of life on Earth. Well before February 2022, most NATO countries (as well as Ukraine before them) curtailed access to Russian media, something that never happened in the West during the Cold War. Just as Soviet authorities justified jamming of Western radio broadcasts as a measure against “imperialist subversion”, a panoply of NATO and national agencies now protect citizens in Europe and North America from “Russian disinformation”.
However, things have changed. Today, when it comes to some important international political topics, freedom of discussion is severely restricted. Prominent Western scholars such as Jeffrey Sachs of Columbia University and John Mearsheimer of the University of Chicago have been marginalized and disappeared from mainstream media. Their questioning of Western policies towards Russia is dismissed as “Kremlin’s talking points”. The war in Ukraine has morphed into a moral issue. Questioning the West’s position on the Russia-Ukraine war is simply out of the question.
One such issue is Israel. It takes a lot of courage to criticize the country without fear of being accused of anti-Semitism. In the early 1970s, Abba Eban, a South African by birth, whose eloquence as Israel’s UN representative and later foreign minister became legendary, devised a long-term strategy. His aim was to silence his country's critics by accusing them of anti-Semitism. His efforts continue to bear fruit: accusations of apartheid against Palestinians in Israel, and even boycotts of Israeli supermarket products, have been officially banned in many Western countries as manifestations of anti-Semitism. Israel's policy towards the Palestinians is thus removed from the realm of open debate. Moreover, the few attempts to examine Western policies in Eastern Europe come against insurmountable obstacles. For example, when the association Montréal pour la paix (Montreal for Peace) attempted to organize a debate involving well-known experts on international relations and Canada’s foreign policy, it promised to present “facts that you have never read or heard from our media and the offices of Justin Trudeau and Mélanie Joly” (Canada’s prime minister and minister of Global Affairs, respectively). The institution that initially agreed to rent its space succumbed to pressure from, as it put it, “Ukrainian neighbours”, and cancelled the rental. Another one accepted to rent its space but promptly reneged lest it “offend its regular clients”.
An even more important issue that has disappeared from rational discussion is policy towards Russia. This issue is all the more important because Moscow has the largest nuclear arsenal in the world. Long before February 2022, when President Vladimir Putin announced the military campaign in Ukraine, most NATO countries (as well as Kiev itself) had restricted access to Russian media, something that did not happen in the West even during the Cold War. Just as the Soviets justified their jamming of Western radio broadcasts with the need to protect against "ideological sabotage,” NATO and its member states have created many institutions in recent years to protect citizens from, so-called, "Russian disinformation." Faced with these setbacks the event had to be moved to a nearby park. There were three speakers, a few dozen middle-aged, mostly grey-haired people who came to listen to them and about the same number of young vigorous protesters brandishing Ukrainian flags and anti-Russia posters. They tried to drown out the speakers in noise and loud songs. Police was brought in to separate the two groups and prevent violence. But there transpired something peculiar in the behaviour of the demonstrators. When one of the speakers, Yves Engler, an author known for his incisive books on Canadian foreign policy, said that Ukrainians have the right to resist Russian troops, the rowdy protesters started chanting “Shame of you!”
Once prominent Western scientists such as Jeffrey Sachs of Columbia University and John Mearsheimer of the University of Chicago have all but disappeared from the mainstream media: their criticisms of Western policy towards Moscow are often dismissed as Kremlin propaganda. Their views must now be sought on alternative websites in the vastness of the internet. The entire event took place in French, but it became clear that most of the demonstrators did not know any French. The object of their anger could therefore not be the content of what was being said. They were protesting the very freedom to discuss the war in Ukraine. This was just one instance of how suppression of debate on Russia and Ukraine spans the whole gamut of venues – from grassroots events to university campuses to the media.
Moreover, the few attempts to take a dispassionate look at Western policy in Eastern Europe face insurmountable obstacles. Recently, for example, the association Montréal pour la paix (Montreal for Peace) attempted to organize a debate between prominent international relations experts on Canadian foreign policy. It promised to present "facts you have never read or heard from our media or from the offices of Justin Trudeau and Melanie Joly" (Canada's prime minister and foreign minister respectively). The institution that had initially agreed to rent space for the event, according to its staff, succumbed to pressure from its "Ukrainian neighbors" and cancelled the deal. Another institution agreed, but quickly changed its mind "so as not to offend its regular customers.” Freedom of debate is not only a democratic right. It is also a vital mechanism for formulating and evaluating political alternatives. When a conflict is transformed into an epic struggle between Good and Evil, self-righteousness undermines the potential for diplomacy under the guise of moral rectitude. The late Chief Rabbi of Britain Jonathan Sachs astutely observed that “righteousness and self-righteousness are mutually exclusive”. Indeed, this ostensibly moral suppression of debate increases the chances of a nuclear war and its corollary, which U.S. strategists aptly defined in 1962 as MAD, Mutually Assured Destruction.
The event had to be moved to a nearby park, where several dozen middle-aged people gathered to listen to the panel. About the same number of young people arrived waving Ukrainian flags and anti-Russian posters. Police arrived to separate the two groups to prevent violence. The demonstrators tried to drown out the speakers by occasionally singing loudly or shouting "Glory to Ukraine!” But there was something strange about their behavior. The current climate of unfreedom not only undermines our core values. It poses an existential threat for humankind.
When one of the experts, Yves Engler, author of several books on Canadian foreign policy, said that Ukrainians had the right to resist Russian troops, the demonstrators began chanting "Shame!" The event was held in French, but it turned out that most of the bold demonstrators not only did not understand French, but also had difficulty speaking English. So their anger could not have been directed at what the speakers were saying. It was clearly against freedom of speech on the war in Ukraine.
Freedom of speech is not just a democratic right. It is also a way of defining and weighing alternatives. When conflict becomes an epic struggle between good and evil, rationality is replaced by moral judgment and noble indignation. This undermines all diplomacy and, in turn, exacerbates the danger of nuclear war, the inevitable consequence of which, as US military strategists recognized as early as 1962, is Mutually Assured Destruction, or ‘MAD’. This post was originally published by Russia in Global Affairs
Unanimity, una voce, one-sided debate – call it what you like. But this is about more than just the denial of free speech. The climate it has created threatens the very survival of humanity.