The West vowed sanctions for the Russian annexation of Crimea, but because we like to think of ourselves as nice people, ordinary Russians had to be spared. Instead sanctions targeted a limited number of individuals deemed to be able to influence the Kremlin’s policy making. Or maybe we just wanted the measures to be full of loopholes for our own insiders because if the goal was to punish those who support Putin’s policy, that would be two fifths of the population of the Russian Federation.
Since then Russian economy suffered from declining fossil fuel prices which many Russians attributed to the wicked ways of uncle Sam and stood by Putin as predicted. If anything, the economic downturn accompanied by the sharp decline in relations with the West gave meaning to their suffering. The way Russians see it, NATO wants them on their knees, and they are more than ready to tighten their belts for the glory of the Motherland.
From time to time the West finds it necessary to further expand punitive measures. For instance, the US and Canada banned Alexander Zaldostanov, the leader of the Night Wolves biker gang who took part in operation Crimea. Said individual, a Putin buddy and some kind of Russian Orthodox (hopefully he attends church more than once a year), welcomed the news:
I would very much like to thank [U.S. President Barack] Obama for recognizing my modest services to the motherland. And I promise that I will do all I can so that his concern for me only grows.
The crooner Iosif Kobzon, a native of Donetsk recently banned from entering EU for entertaining the pro-Russian forces in breakaway Donetsk and Lugansk, would very much like to travel to Europe. So much so that he suggested that Russia, in the old Soviet manner, should refuse exit to the continent to celebrities on the other end of political spectrum. The cancer-stricken 77-year-old is banned in the US, too, but for a different reason.
Kobzon is often billed as the Russian answer to Frank Sinatra, a rather odd comparison. He is without a doubt an accomplished vocalist, and his style has a mid-century vibe to it, but he couldn’t make it swing if his life depended on it. The classic Kobzon fare bellow called Журавли (Cranes), recorded in 1970 at a Militiaman Day celebration, is a quazi-religious memorialization of the fallen soldiers [of the Great Patriotic War or WW2]:
1970 Is a bit late for this kind of aesthetic, but Russia is typically slow to catch up; their riot grrrls made a splash in 2012, for instance. Outdatedness was Kobzon’s blessing. The singer was born a few years prior to WW2, but his chief admirers were people who lived their adult lives through it, his parents’ generation. In the late Soviet days the younger audiences were craving the forbidden rock-n-roll. Kobzon’s performances, void of any hint of a cutting edge aesthetic and in concert with the party line, were featured on state television so often, they came to represent the creative slump of the Brezhnev era. Looking back at it, I can appreciate the subject matter of at least some of his songs, and I can see what moved my grandparents, but I feel no nostalgia. I prefer the real Sinatra.
Where Kobzon is most like the icon of American cool is mafia connections, which is what got him banned from the US. The crooner himself vehemently denies involvement in any illegal activity. He admits h’d been friendly with the crime boss Vyacheslav Ivankov who was gunned down in 2009, but, as Kobzon explains:
“I have many gay friends. But does that mean that I am gay? I know many artists who know the same group of people,”
If the mafia myth makes Kobzon interesting, he has other things working for him in that department. He is, without a doubt a brave man. The singer toured frequently, making many stops in Soviet and Russian war zones. He was the first Soviet celebrity to entertain soldiers performing nuclear clean up in Chernobyl. He made a reputation for himself for standing up to anti-Semitism:
One of the most prominent Jews to succeed in the Soviet Union, he refused to join a state-sponsored Anti-Zionist Committee in the early 1980’s. When a rabid Russian nationalist, Gen. Albert Makashov, stood in Parliament and denounced ”the Zhids,” a derogatory term for Jews, Mr. Kobzon walked out.
In Soviet times he played godfather to Moscow bohemians. In the country where blat (or connections) were more important than money, with a few calls to friends in high places he took care of fellow actors. In most cases it involved procuring apartments — not an easy task in the Soviet Union — but he took care of other needs as well, for instance, he helped to organize the funeral of underground singer songwriter Vladimir Vysotsky.
Kobzon was a Communist and is a Duma member and a friend of Putin’s. AND he’s a known smooth operator who never turns down a call to resolve a crisis. When in 2002 Chechen terrorists seized a Moscow theater, he, together with another politician, was able to negotiate release of a woman and three children.
Ready for something surreal?
(The unkempt figure in the audience that appears at about 5:20 marks looks oddly familiar. I can’t quite place him, but I want to say he’s St. Petersburg rock scene fixture.)
Yes, that’s “My Way” translated into Russian as “My Journey”, not “My Choice”, sung before the sprawling map of the Russian Federation and by the man who launched his carrier by winning a Joseph Stalin competition. Yes, he is accompanied by a Russian Army choir (in the old days Kobzon was frequently accompanied by the Soviet Army Choir). This is not the Russian answer to Frank Sinatra; this is Russian answer to Sid Vicious. The latter might sing “My Way” all he wants, but the only adequate response to his squealing is to schedule an intervention.
It’s not that Kobzon didn’t do it his way. He didn’t have to stick up for Israel or his artist friends or the doomed soldiers, and if he parroted the party line, it’s probably because he believed it. But here lies the difference between a citizen and a subject. If citizen is free to make his decisions and build his destiny, a subject gets his way by cozying up to the regime. Kobzon owns his accomplishments to being friendly with the regime more than to his talents and hard work. His admirers know his history, and when he performs the song, they think “What an admirable gentleman!” Sinatra is different. In Bono’s famous description:
You know his story ’cause it’s your story
Frank walks like America — cock-sure
For comparison’s sake, Kobzon was interviewed in 2002 by the NYT which observed:
Yet the 64-year-old crooner with the obvious dark wig and heavily tinted eyebrows knows nothing if not his place. Circumspection is second nature to anyone who survived the Soviet system, let alone thrived […]
Cock-sure. Circumspection. Case closed.
Russians took the Kobzon ban personally, starting an Je Suis Kobzon twitter campaign. They too are circumspect, trying to carve out lives within the space made available by the power. They also know that although Kobzon is a member of Putin’s inner circle, he, just like them, doesn’t make any key policy decisions. He’d been banned from the US for nearly two decades, and he’s gone public with his dissatisfaction with Russian officials who, in his opinion, could do more for him. Did anything change? No.
Sanctions didn’t change anything either — other than to get a whole bunch of people angry. The Russian opinion of the United States stands at the all-time low and popular anti-Americanism is nothing like I remember from the 1980’s. As the Russian economy is slowly righting itself from unrelated damage, we are talking more about “targeted sanctions”. Is there a there there in American foreign policy?
P.S. Curiously enough internationally renown soprano Anna Netrebko who donated money to Donetsk opera posing with the Novorossian flag and a separatist leader last December, managed to evade sanctions. Makes me suspect that Kobzon’s real sins are aesthetic.