Professional Documents
Culture Documents
“INFORMATION WAR is now the main type of war.” Dmitry Kiselev was
in a position to know. He was the coordinator of the Russian state
agency for international news, and the host of a popular Sunday eve-
ning program, Vesti Nedeli, that led the information offensive against
Ukraine.
The first men the Kremlin sent to Ukraine, the spearpoint of
the Russian invasion, were the political technologists. A war where
Surkov commands is fought in unreality. He was in Crimea and Kyiv
in February 2014, and served as Putin’s advisor on Ukraine thereaf-
ter. The Russian political technologist Alexander Borodai was the
press officer for Crimea during its annexation. In summer 2014,
the “prime ministers” of two newly invented “people’s republics” in
Ukraine’s southeast were Russian media managers.
A modest affair in military terms, the Russian invasion of south-
ern and then southeastern Ukraine involved the most sophisticated
propaganda campaign in the history of warfare. The propaganda
worked at two levels: first, as a direct assault on factuality, denying
the obvious, even the war itself; second, as an unconditional proc-
lamation of innocence, denying that Russia could be responsible for
any wrong. No war was taking place, and it was thoroughly justified.
When Russia began its invasion of Ukraine on February 24, 2014,
President Putin lied with purpose. On February 28 he claimed, “We
have no intention of rattling the sabre and sending troops to Crimea.”
He had already sent troops to Crimea. At the moment he uttered
these words, Russian troops had been marching through Ukrainian
sovereign territory for four days. For that matter, the Night Wolves
were in Crimea, following Russian soldiers around in a loud dis-
162
*
The older idea of plausible deniability, constructed by Americans in the
1980s, was to make claims in an imprecise way that allowed an escape from
accusations of racism. This strategy was memorably formulated by the strate-
gist Lee Atwater: “You start out at 1954, by saying, ‘Nigger, nigger, nigger.’
By 1968, you can’t say ‘Nigger’—that hurts you. Backfires. So you say stuff
like forced busing, states’ rights, and all that stuff. You’re getting so abstract
now that you’re talking about cutting taxes, and all these things you’re talk-
ing about are totally economic things, and a by-product of them is blacks
get hurt worse than whites.” If someone who spoke like this was accused of
racism, he could plausibly say that he was not speaking about blacks.
163
THE BATTLE for Crimea was easily won by March 2014. The subsequent
Russian intervention in southeastern Ukraine continued. In this sec-
ond campaign, implausible deniability would again test the fidelity of
Russians and the courage of journalists; and reverse asymmetry would
again cover an illegal war in the aureole of victimhood. The two
tactics confirmed the politics of eternity, where facts vanish amidst
the insistence that nothing ever happens except foreign malevolence
and legitimate resistance. Assisted by Surkov, Putin invited Russians
into a cycle of eternity in which Russia was defending itself as it had
always done.
Eternity takes certain points from the past and portrays them as
moments of righteousness, discarding the time in between. In this
war, Russian leaders had already mentioned two such points: the
conversion of Volodymyr/Valdemar in 988, which supposedly made
of Ukraine and Russia a single nation forever; and the German inva-
sion of the Soviet Union in 1941, which somehow made a Ukrainian
protest movement a fascist threat. To justify the extended interven-
tion in Ukraine’s southeast, Putin in April 2014 added a third refer-
ence to the past: 1774. That was when the Russian Empire defeated
the Ottoman Empire and annexed territories on the north shore of
the Black Sea, some of which are now part of Ukraine. These territo-
ries were known in the eighteenth century as “Novorossiia,” or New
Russia. Putin’s use of this term set aside the existing Russian and
Ukrainian states, while shifting the conversation to ancient rights.
In the logic of “Novorossiia,” Ukraine was the aggressor because it
included territories that were once called Russian and therefore were
eternally Russian. The radical reframing of the issue allowed Rus-
sians and observers to forget the banal facts of the present—such as,
166
210
final link in the chain, bringing the slander into American media. In
one RT account, the mistranslation had been broadcast along with a
series of other untruths and accompanied by graphic images of mass
murder in Rwanda. The RT segment violated broadcasting standards
in the United Kingdom, and was pulled from the internet. Readers
looking for the false “subhuman” claim could still turn to The Nation.
When Russia shot down MH17 in July 2014, Cohen said: “We’ve
had these shootdowns. We had them in the cold war.” The killing of
civilians was dismissed by a vague reference to the past. A Russian
weapon with a Russian crew during a Russian invasion of Ukraine
shot down a civilian airliner and killed 298 people. A state transferred
soldiers and weapons; an officer gave an order to fire; pilots were
killed in a cockpit as shrapnel ripped through their bodies; a plane
was ripped apart ten kilometers above the earth; children, women,
and men died in sudden terror, their body parts scattered over the
countryside. On July 18, 2014, the day that Cohen said this, Russian
television was broadcasting its multiple versions of the event. Rather
than explaining to Americans what reporters knew—that multiple
Ukrainian aircraft had been shot down by Russian weapons in the
same place in prior weeks, and that the Russian GRU officer Igor
Girkin had claimed credit for shooting down the aircraft that turned
out to be MH17—Cohen changed the subject to the “cold war.”
This idea that Russia’s anti-gay policies and its invasion of Ukraine
were a “new cold war” was a meme spread within Russia by the fas-
cists of the Izborsk Club and then by right-wing politicians on RT:
Marine Le Pen, beginning in 2011, and Richard Spencer, beginning
in 2013. The term became a mainstay in the pages of The Nation in
2014, thanks to articles by Cohen and the journal’s publisher, Ka-
trina vanden Heuvel.
On July 24, 2014, vanden Heuvel claimed on television that Mos-
cow was “calling for a cease fire” in a “civil war.” In speaking in this
way, she was separating Russia from a conflict in which it was the
aggressor. At that moment, the prime ministers of the “Donetsk
211
the time was assembling the European far Right—as electoral “ob-
servers,” as soldiers in the field, and as propagators of its messages.
Moscow had organized meetings of European fascists and was sub-
sidizing France’s far Right party, the Front National.
How were opinion leaders of the Left seduced by Vladimir Putin,
the global leader of the extreme Right? Russia generated tropes tar-
geted at what cyberwar professionals call “susceptibilities”: what
people seem likely to believe given their utterances and behavior. It
was possible to claim that Ukraine was a Jewish construction (for
one audience) and also that Ukraine was a fascist construction (for
another audience). People on the Left were drawn in by stimuli on
social media that spoke to their own commitments. Pilger wrote his
article under the influence of a text he found on the internet, purport-
edly written by a physician, detailing supposed Ukrainian atrocities
in Odessa—but the doctor did not exist and the event did not take
place. The Guardian’s correction noted only that Pilger’s source, a fake
social media page, had “subsequently been removed”: far gentler, that,
than to say that the most-read article about Ukraine in that newspa-
per in 2014 was a translation of Russian political fiction into English.
Guardian associate editor Seumas Milne opined in January 2014
that “far-right nationalists and fascists have been at the heart of the
protests” in Ukraine. This corresponded not to The Guardian’s re-
porting from Ukraine but to the Russian propaganda line. Milne
dismissed from the record the labors of about a million Ukrainian
citizens to turn the rule of law against oligarchy: an odd turn for a
newspaper with a left-wing tradition. Even after Putin had admit-
ted that Russian forces were in Ukraine, Milne was claiming that
“the little green men” were mostly Ukrainian. At Putin’s presiden-
tial summit on foreign policy at Valdai in 2013, the Russian presi-
dent had claimed that Russia and Ukraine were “one people.” Milne
chaired a session of the 2014 summit, at Putin’s invitation.
None of these people—Milne, Pilger, Cohen, vanden Heuvel,
LaRouche, Paul— provided a single interpretation that was not
available on RT. In some cases, as with Paul and LaRouche, the
213
215