Civil Society and Public Engagement in Russia’s Regions (based on the case of Tatarstan)

Kuznetsova Alexandra Vital'evna ORCID: 0000-0003-3014-1974 Associate Professor, Department of Philosophy of Science and Social Work, Kazan National Research Technological University 420015, Russia, Kazan, 72 Karl Marx str., room B-316, akuznets@alumni.nd.edu

Introduction

Recent political and economic developments impacted the shape of Russia’s regional civil society, including the so-called ‘national republics’ that once had a significant influence on federal affairs, such as the Republic of Tatarstan (Tatarstan), the home of Russia’s largest minority group. The apolitical and unorganised nature of local CSOs, together with their voluntary resignation from the political space, has become symbolic of Tatarstan’s civil society. The public nature of civil society in this region was replaced by the individual activism of conscientious citizens. Informal networks continue to play an important role and allow people to be a part of the whole while remaining independent individuals.

Initially, Tatarstan was known for its support of CSOs that advocated for the region’s autonomy in the early 1990s and the promotion of volunteerism in the 2000s. Tatarstan has also demonstrated a strong performance due to oil production and a favourable investment climate ^{[1, 417–429]}, which has allowed the regional government to allocate financial support to the so-called socially oriented CSOs. Consequently, Tatarstan’s activists were forced to redefine best practices from other regions and design new strategies that would reflect the republic’s specific context.

In this study, civil society is defined as ‘a public space between the home and government where citizens act collectively’ ^{[2, p.171]} that goes beyond institutions, self-develops, and strives for better representation of local people. This intentionally broad definition allows a perspective beyond formally registered non-profits and includes informal groups and movements. The study explores the discrepancies in the assessment of civil society participation in Tatarstan. In particular, it examines the differences in public support for socially oriented, political, and independent CSOs and among different groups of Tatarstan’s population. Given the foregoing context, the study also investigates regional and federal political developments and their impact on public support for CSOs in the region.

Theoretical background

There is little debate on the value of popular participation in civil society: local support and participation in civil society initiatives are crucial in challenging power relations. Meaningful participation determines the quality of the civil society sector and its relevance to everyday needs. Conversely, a lack of participation limits civil society from effectively exercising its functions.

Researchers have argued that there has been limited support for civil society initiatives in Russia ^{[3; 4; 5; 6]}. The new NGOs that appeared in Russia in the early 1990s were encouraged to ‘sell’ democratic transformation successes to donors that, in theory, recognised the need to empower local communities, although, in reality, they were driven by the more urgent need to demonstrate breakthrough results in the democratisation of Russian society. Consequently, after a short period of mobilisation in the late 1980s and early 1990s, civic engagement in Russia rapidly declined ^{[76, 10-25]}. The prioritisation of human rights NGOs over other forms of civic activism supported the division between the upper and the lower level civic activity in practice ^{[8; 5]} and enhanced the ‘current caricature’ of it in the academic literature ^{[2, 171]}. Participation in civil society has been mainly researched in relation to its advocacy function, and studies have rarely addressed cases of service-providing nonprofits ^{[9, 940–954]}. Russian academic literature, however, pays increasing attention to studying the so-called socially-oriented NGOs ^{[10; 11; 12; 13]}. In addition, Russian authors have looked into public engagement among different populations in Russia ^[14] and legal regulation of socially-oriented NGOs ^{[12; 15; 16]}.

There is no doubt that state–civil society relations have also impacted participation in CSOs. On the one hand, government support has partially reflected local realities. In post-Soviet countries, more support has traditionally been given to service providers ^[17], and these values remain strong in contemporary Russia ^{[18, 244–266]}. On the other, the government has supported ‘a top-down model of civil society’ ^{[3, 344]}. Popular participation has been predominantly studied in the literature on protest and opposition ^{[19, 171–175]}. Researchers have also examined Tatarstan as a model for civil society participation in ethnic regions ^{[20; 21; 22]}. In addition, some authors have traced participation back to Russian mentality and its historical development ^{[23; 7]}. Finally, an emerging body of literature has studied participation trends beyond political protests in the form of voluntary work outside formal associations and apolitical movements ^{[2; 24]}.

This analysis of the literature on public participation indicates that little attention is given to socially oriented and independent CSOs in Russian regions. The debate between the researchers of political and socially oriented and independent CSOs does not sufficiently explore the impact of the local environment. This study aims to fill in this gap and examine the local dynamics of Tatarstan’s civil society and locally sustainable practices to civil society participation. The research compares participation trends in the three subsectors (political, socially oriented and independent CSOs), which represents the novelty of this research.

Methodology

This study’s design reflects the divisions within Tatarstan’s civil society sector into socially oriented CSOs, political or human rights CSOs, and independent groups. This division of Russia’s civil society has been highlighted in the literature ^{[3; 23; 18; 2]}. In selecting participants, purposive sampling was employed. The research participants’ ages varied with the youngest 19 and the oldest 73 years of age. Out of 35 respondents, 16 were Russian, 15 were Tatar, and the rest were members of other minority groups. The sample included 22 men and 13 women. The demographic data were useful in analysing the similarities and differences across the diverse representatives of Tatarstan’s civil society. Purposive sampling and the use of pseudonyms was necessary to protect participants’ identities. Although general participation trends were identified in the extant literature prior to the field research, all the themes in the present study emerged inductively from the data. The interview questions were semi-structured with the aim of guiding the discussion and allowing for other questions to emerge during the interviews with the participants.

This study has some potential limitations. The purposive sampling was based on specific characteristics of the selected interviewees; in this research, the key attribute was belonging to a civil society group or organisation. The research also included theoretical sampling as the study progressed, which determined what other data had to be collected and how. Moving between data collection and sampling was a challenge that was managed by the preliminary analysis of the interviews to address gaps in the research sample. Further, the generalisability of the study findings was limited, and a larger sample from other Russian regions could contribute to a more nuanced understanding of participation trends. Finally, the present research demonstrated that Tatarstan’s civil society is fluid: some CSOs become inactive, while civil society activists may move from one organisation or group to another, or become public servants. As Tatarstan’s civil society continues to evolve, continuous monitoring of its progress is required.

Research findings

Key trends of local participation in CSOs

The research participants identified the division of Tatarstan’s civil society sector into three sub-groups: political CSOs, socially oriented CSOs, and independent groups. Initially introduced by the government, the term ‘socially oriented’ was eventually appropriated by civil society activists. The study participants used this term to describe CSOs that provide social services, rather than to discuss government-affiliated nonprofits. Participants used the term ‘political’ to distinguish organisations that concentrate on political and human rights advocacy. Independent groups in Tatarstan perform a variety of civil society functions; however, their main distinction is that they are not officially registered with the government. These groups usually emerge as a response to a certain crisis, but may continue to exist and advocate for other causes.

Regardless of their affiliation, the activists acknowledged that the level of trust in Tatarstan’s CSOs was growing. On the one hand, there were more people working and volunteering in formal organisations, such as youth organisations. On the other, people had united to tackle important issues such as the environment without any top-down interference.

Several major trends in the positive experiences of local engagement in civil society projects were observed. Tatarstan’s population remained more active in such projects on social media than in real life. There was an active core of civil society operating in Tatarstan, which was represented by several organisations and activist groups. These people were ready to take risks and sought to gain local people’s support to resist multi-million development projects. These activists saw the advancement of the Internet as leverage for civil society to burgeon in Tatarstan: civil society activists used this opportunity to connect with people through various online media tools. All the study participants felt that social media provided a much-needed space where civil society activists could reach out to the general public.

However, active online participation rarely translated into real-life support for CSOs, and social media followers mostly remained bystanders; thus, the positive impact of online civic engagement was limited. For instance, Karina reported that civil society initiatives attracted significantly more support on social media than in real life:

During the Tatfondbank crisis, when there were thousands, millions of people affected all around the republic, there were around 8, 9, [or] 10 thousand people on Telegram, VKontakte, [and] other messenger apps, but in fact, 150 to 300 people came to the protests. The biggest [protest] they had [attracted] 600 people.

Dinar said, ‘I have noticed that in Kazan, the number of [civic activists] does not go beyond several hundred at best, [and] some initiatives are local. So, yes, there are active citizens, but I think I know them all. In other words, there are [very few] people who are active [in real life]’.

Further, local support for civil society initiatives was greater among certain groups within the overall population. University and high school students were the most active groups. Tatarstan’s youth, above all else, supported youth organisations and sports event volunteerism.

In contrast, environmental issues united people regardless of their social background or political or religious views. For instance, Lilia noted that her support group consisted of ‘workers and academics, former offenders, former police officers, Putin supporters, and his opponents’. Environmental initiatives attracted fewer youths and more parents with young children. In general, environmental issues were of interest to those who spent more time in the region’s parks and other natural grounds, namely young parents, dog owners, and athletes. With a few exceptions in the environmentalist groups, middle-aged people rarely participated in Tatarstan’s CSOs. The research participants argued that retired people were considerably more active in small neighbourhood projects and invested their main resource—time—in meeting with government officials to draw their attention to various issues.

The respondents often attributed low participation and turnout among older age groups to a specific mentality. The majority of the CSOs intentionally laid their hopes on the new generation of civic activists. Marat opined, ‘We shouldn’t get upset that some people don’t want change [or] are afraid of change. Because one generation is leaving, [and] the next one is coming. And [the new generation] is different, they all have gadgets’. Hence, political activists used communication tools that were predominantly aimed at attracting youth support.

Public servants (budgetniki) were another category of people that were discussed in detail in the interviews. Some activists suggested economic reasons behind budgetniki passivity: according to Dinar, the budgetniki often work several jobs and are not aware of civil society initiatives due to a lack of time. According to Anna, many people were planning to move further away from Kazan, and, thus, were not committed to fostering any change in the local milieu:

In Tatarstan, and Kazan specifically, people come for jobs. The majority of Kazan citizens are not native to Kazan; they are people who came for work. They came to make money and that’s exactly what they are doing. For some, for 30 % [of citizens], Kazan is a stopover. They plan to move to Moscow or abroad. A lot of these middle-aged people are budgetniki—state employees with low salaries, such as schoolteachers or doctors—who are afraid of losing their small incomes. … [This] segment [of society] … is simply concerned with their economic situation. In other words, when a person is trying to put food on the table, he cannot care for other things. It’s common not only in the Russian Federation but in the rest of the world.

Most of the study participants believed in the importance of learning from the people they represented, although many activists assumed that their own knowledge represented the experiences of other members of their target groups. The political activists suggested that they generally had better ideas for civic activism than the rest of the population. Their opinions overlapped with the common protest discourse that separates ‘simple people’, who are politically passive, from ‘normal people’ (or intelligentsia) who remain politically active and immune to state propaganda.

The participants also believed that independent groups were more committed to learning from the people they represented. They regularly invited the public to help formulate their concepts, consulted with experts to improve these raw ideas, and attempted to translate them to the governance level. For instance, Idris stated, ‘I think that the public should be able to formulate concepts, perhaps short ones, not [particularly] professional ones. But [we] should also try to invite experts [to refine them]’. Commenting on the role of activists in her civil society group, Lilia echoed Idris’s perspective on civic activists as dialogue facilitators, noting, ‘I was a … moderator between the experts, people who wanted explanations, representatives of business … and the local authorities’.

Issues with low and high popular support

Although their evaluation of popular support for civil society varied, activists asserted that Tatarstan’s population was reluctant to participate in civil society initiatives. There were sporadic bursts of participation, rather than a steady interest in civic activism. The difference in popular support reflected the division between socially oriented organisations and advocacy organisations, for which Tatarstan’s people expressed less support. Local participation in socially oriented CSOs also varied depending on the issue. There was a lack of support for initiatives focused on marginalised communities, in particular, for CSOs working with people with HIV. Karim noted, ‘No one likes addicts, everyone is afraid of HIV; therefore, it is a very unpopular topic. [It is] an unpopular, stigmatised topic that people are not ready to embrace’. Alfia contended, ‘With HIV prevention … only those [people] who have this problem do something: … if someone got exposed to it, maybe not himself, [but] maybe his relative [has] this illness. Today it’s more like everyone [thinks], “It’s not in my backyard”’.

The public also wanted to see the immediate results of their support. Damir argued that when people supported civil society initiatives financially, they wanted to see immediate and optimistic outcomes; thus, it was harder to fundraise for terminally ill children than for children with prospects of recovery. More importantly, less government funding was allocated to unpopular problems, shaping the civil society sector accordingly.

Environmental issues received support when environmental degradation was observed in real time; for example, people protested when they noticed how the backfilling of the Volga River stopped them from fishing, swimming, and otherwise enjoying the riverbank. The destruction of the grove near the Kazanka River, conversely, did not have an immediate impact on the air quality in the city and was largely ignored by the public. The study participants noted that people in Kazan were ready to save their children’s playground but hesitated to take part in more comprehensive, long-term environmental initiatives. Dinar highlighted this when commenting on the unsuccessful attempts to stop the demolition of the grove near the Kazanka River:

There is a feeling of [being] absolutely unsuccessful. In other words, there are blogs. There are articles that are very hard on the authorities, and on the citizens as well, because we understand that without the broad participation of citizens, even several dozens of activists will not be able to change the situation.

The research participants suggested that the lower public support for certain civic initiatives was also due to the region’s conservative values. Egor noted, ‘Tatarstan society … is very conservative. In general, conservative beliefs are, perhaps, common in Russian society … but Tatarstan is even more conservative’. Further, these values were promoted by specific regional policies. Ivan believed that Tatarstan’s political system reinforced a passive mentality among its people. He noted, ‘We are not the capital, we are … a province …. People think it’s useless to do anything because we have our own regime here, the so-called “clannishness” and so on, [and that] whatever you do, you won’t succeed. I’ve been told I won’t succeed every day’.

Despite regional features, the research participants argued that all of Tatarstan’s residents, regardless of their ethnicity, shared the same features of local participation. For instance, the activists representing minority groups criticised the low participation rate among their ethnic groups and the wider population. They claimed that rossiiane, regardless of ethnicity, were culturally different from other European nations. As Marat asserted, ‘We are Asians. We are different from the Europeans because any other European nation would have taken to the streets in protest long ago’. Based on her experiences in several socially oriented organisations, Rezeda offered an interesting insight into this topic:

For instance, psychological counselling [services are] really difficult [to offer to] Russian citizens because unlike, for example, their Western counterparts, [they] are afraid of the word ‘counselling’. Working with my audiences, I figured out that many did need counselling but would only accept it if no one else knew about it: ‘I am ready to accept it but not ready to talk about it’. Again, all these things you figure out when you work with people.

People’s dependency on the government

The local population’s dependency on the government emerged as a common theme in the interviews with many of the study participants. The respondents related the problems with the lack of public participation in civil society to the mentality of Russian people. Tamara pointed out that Tatarstan’s population demonstrated a great tolerance, reporting, ‘Our people are very patient. [They] talk, cry, and [then] get back to normal’.

At the same time, interviewees perceived the public dependency on government as a complex issue. On the one hand, the population distrusts any type of authority, and on the other, Tatarstan’s citizens show little initiative to get involved. Many activists considered the public’s low participation rate at the grassroots level as a fundamental cause of similar problems at higher levels. Small community initiatives are usually a training ground for local activism, where people gain the necessary skills to negotiate their interests and navigate through bureaucratic obstacles. They are important for cultivating community-building values and educating the younger generation on civic participation.

The interviewees suggested that the grassroots disinterest in small neighbourhood projects originated from the Soviet tradition of subbotnik, which was initially a volunteer tradition that became synonymous with unpaid obligatory work, and the public tried to find legitimate reasons to escape it. Small community initiatives were similarly disregarded, as Damir reported: ‘Our parents … were convinced during the Soviet time … and then they [convinced] us that everything around us belongs to everyone. And what belongs to everyone belongs to no one. And if it belongs to no one, we don’t care’.

The research participants admitted that their own choice to become activists was foisted upon them by external circumstances. Ivan described this issue as follows:

In general, the passivity of the population is tremendous. I mean [there are] indeed movements, there are activists, there are leaders, but in general, the majority of society … is inert [and] passive because we [have] stability, we trust the authorities, and I am there with them. But [this lasts] only until a disaster happens, right?

According to the study participants, Tatarstan residents were confused about the roles of the state and of civil society and delegated responsibility for the public sphere to government officials. People’s dependency on the government became harmful and constrained civil society, creating an expectation of direct government involvement in any activity beyond people’s own front door. Damir described this issue as follows:

[There is no popular] view that ‘I am a civic activist, and I understand that a state, any state, even the most powerful one, has no power to do everything, has no money [to do that]’ …. If a light bulb goes out in the hallway, [a Russian person] would never change it. He would complain first to the building’s management, then to the city administration, then he would even go to the president, but [he] would never change the light bulb [himself] because he’d rather walk all this way and prove that he was right than install a new light bulb and have a lit hallway.

It’s a common idea [in our country] that everything has to be done by anyone [except] me. Public [affairs] have to be run by the public, and the public has transformed into the state …. We have been trying to [change this approach] through different articles, through the media, and it doesn’t help. It’s like hitting your head against the wall. Unbelievable.

When attempting to generate support for environmental action, Ivan found enough people who could follow orders from his CSO but very few who were capable of taking initiative. He articulated, ‘This is … the problem: not having enough active, ready [for action] people who will … make decisions. We are ready, come over, make your own decisions. Don’t just come to a rally, we are not some sort of [political] party that needs volunteers. We need leaders, really’.

Nevertheless, most study participants believed that people’s dependency on the government was a learned mentality connected to Russia’s political culture and education, rather than an inherent quality of Russian people. Hence, they assumed that the dysfunctional elements of this mentality could be transformed through civic education and a changing political culture. Karina said, ‘Our people are not stupid … as some tend to believe. People understand what is going on. They know when their rights are being violated, and this is clearly manifested in society’.

While remaining critical of the government’s role, Semyon suggested that changes were needed on both sides:

I think this is a two-way street … because, on the one hand, we can criticise the state as much as we want; any state really, it doesn’t matter. Any state always … aims at expansion. It aims to control everything …. On the other hand, this [initiative] has to come from the bottom up. If this process is lacking, there [can be] no movement … or at least the channel is very narrow. How can we blame the government if the people, in general, take no initiative?

Discussion and conclusion

This study investigated the key features of local participation in Tatarstan’s civil society sector and revealed the reluctance of Tatarstan’s residents to engage in formal CSOs on a regular basis. The study participants confirmed the discrepancy between the declared and real-life participation indicated in the polls. Overall, the low level of public support for Tatarstan’s CSOs was related to two factors. First, participation varied depending on the sub-sector, with more support given to the issues people felt more personally connected to, such as the environment. In other instances, public support depended on the CSOs’ outreach capacity and prominence. The research on charitable practices has argued that Russians have greater trust in prominent nonprofit organisations ^{[25, 147–158]}, a conclusion that is congruent with this study’s findings.

However, several study participants asserted that the statistical information on public support for civil society was not always clear-cut. Overall, the polls reflected two criteria: people’s willingness to participate in protest activities and their participation in (or support for) nonprofit organisations. Although the examples of independent activism in Tatarstan demonstrated that people preferred to participate in informal voluntary work, their sporadic civil society activism was mostly unaccounted for, as was their voluntary engagement outside of formal organisations. Overall, the study participants suggested that people’s participation in civil society activities in Tatarstan was often limited to informal civil society groups and several social issues.

The participants’ experiences of generating public support for civil society groups and organisations suggested that Tatarstan’s citizens supported initiatives that had the potential to change their immediate surroundings. The trust in certain types of CSOs was less related to their reputation and government support and more related to the issues they represented; thus, CSOs promoting unpopular causes had fewer opportunities to attract meaningful public support.

People’s participation in CSOs exhibited some deep-rooted features that overlapped with the general trends of the migration of civil society participation to online platforms. On the one hand, all the study participants perceived that the Internet, and social media, in particular, was fundamental in promoting Tatarstan’s civil society. They emphasised the power of the Internet as the main, and often only, critical space to raise people’s awareness and to increase support for civil society initiatives. On the other hand, the activists highlighted the divide between participation in real-life scenarios and social media, that is, the gap between people’s declared interest in civil society initiatives and their real-life engagement in Tatarstan’s CSOs.

Young people were more engaged in civil society than their parents’ generation. The research participants often attributed decreasing participation among middle-aged and older adults to the specific mentality of Russian citizens. Their argument was supported by the case of Tatarstan’s youth organisations; however, it did not explain the increasing number of informal civic groups that were emerging in Tatarstan. The study also demonstrated that the youth tended to become alienated from civic participation by their mid-20s.

At the same time, the mentality argument leaves little space for expressions of people’s individual agency, and it does not explain why this agency is expressed in certain types of civil society initiatives. Another reason for the differences in participation among the various age groups was the recruitment strategies employed by Tatarstan’s CSOs: by focusing on younger people, CSOs in Tatarstan did not capitalise on the resources available among other population groups. The use of online tools to generate support also showed that different CSOs purposely chose to target certain groups of the population. In some ways, the Tatarstan groups’ use of social media has replaced the so-called ‘kitchen talk’ of Soviet times when people discussed politically unsafe topics behind the closed doors of their own homes. The minimal effect and impact of the online strategy reflected this specific culture in which people did not want to engage in an open debate. In addition to people’s withdrawal from active participation in civil society, Tatarstan’s CSOs were less strategic about the use of communication tools. Despite their active online engagement with the population, the study participants did not consider social media as a tool to foment social change; rather, they treated it as a communication and marketing tool.