Raising cannon fodder Vladimir Putin talks endlessly about ‘loving the Motherland,’ but the Kremlin’s education philosophy has both eyes on the battlefield in Ukraine
Raising cannon fodder Vladimir Putin talks endlessly about ‘loving the Motherland,’ but the Kremlin’s education philosophy has both eyes on the battlefield in Ukraine
On September 21, 2022, Vladimir Putin announced the “partial” mobilization of Russia’s population in response to the ongoing war in Ukraine. Putin noted that this was not full mobilization but would target reserves (citizens with past military experience, as well as current trainees). In response to Putin’s mobilization call, anti-mobilization protests sprung up in various regions of Russia, with droves of men leaving the country on foot through Georgia, Finland, and Kazakhstan.
A day prior to the draft’s announcement, the Kremlin introduced laws threatening those unwilling to participate in the “special military operation” with felony prosecution and possible imprisonment. Facing jail time, some who fit the mobilization guidelines fled the country, while others said they would go to prison before taking up arms.
Since at least the 1980s, the military in Russia has faced numerous recruitment issues. Democratizing reforms introduced by Mikhail Gorbachev, the Soviet Union’s final leader, lifted controls on the public flow of information, leading to open criticism of the army from the media (and other discursive forums), which raised awareness of dedovshchina (bullying and hazing in the military), defense budget costs, and the true fatality figures in past wars.
Support for the armed forces also declined after disastrous conflicts both at home and abroad. Soldiers in the Soviet-Afghan War (1979–1989) demonstrated low morale (many veterans express confusion about the war’s very purpose), and poor economic conditions after the USSR’s collapse contributed to low recruitment numbers in the First Chechen War (1994–1996).
Today, the Putin regime apparently attributes its own military recruitment struggles to a lack of patriotism in society, and so it is turning increasingly to patriotic education as a solution. The Kremlin’s understanding of patriotism and “love for the Motherland” is also bound largely to ideas of citizenship and sacred duty. We see this annually, on May 9, when the state glorifies loyalty and sacrifice, venerating the Soviet soldiers and civilians whose contributions won the Great Patriotic War against Nazi Germany.
This annual spectacle’s message is that sacrifice in war is every Russian citizen’s highest and most sacred duty
The Putin regime’s current patriotic-education journey began in 2001 when the government adopted a five-year plan to “unlock opportunities for developing Russian citizens’ readiness to serve the Fatherland” through an education system that nurtures “higher patriotic consciousness, a sense of loyalty to one’s own Fatherland, and commitment to civic duty and constitutional obligations to protect the Motherland’s interests. The authors of this state program described participation in war not as “fighting” but as “performing civic duties.”
Thirteen years later, Russia’s patriotic-education landscape remained a priority for Putin. In July 2014, just a few months after Russia’s annexation of Crimea, the president met with his Interethnic Relations Council (a consultative group that focuses on issues related to state youth policy, interethnic relations, and historical education) and gave a welcome speech promoting patriotic education as a necessary defense against the West’s attempts to weaken “certain countries.”
“We need constant systematic efforts to protect this country and its younger generation from such risks, to strengthen civic solidarity and interethnic accord,” said Putin, warning about rising nationalism and “the revival of neo-Nazi organizations, which are acquiring political power.” He then added, “I am convinced that Russia’s strong educational traditions, our culture, and our great history can play a decisive role in resolving all the tasks I have outlined here.” The president stressed that promoting pride and love in the motherland will combat fundamentalist nationalism.
More importantly, at this same meeting, Putin reminded us about one of the more pertinent goals behind Russia’s patriotic education system: it’s designed to drive up military recruitment by cultivating the value of national service. “Of course, young people should be getting more knowledge on Russia’s historical, cultural, and natural resources at school,” the president said in 2014. “This, I believe, is the best way to teach people to love their homeland and to strive to be of use to it.”
Russia’s most recent invasion of Ukraine in February 2022 raises similar concerns for Moscow, and September’s mandatory “partial” mobilization proves that previous calls for volunteers attracted too few recruits — a failure that also explains the state’s growing efforts to increase the Russian youth’s patriotic spirit. In startling ways, tomorrow’s schools in Russia could soon resemble Soviet classrooms. For example, on November 9, Education Minister Sergey Kravtsov said military training would return to schools by September 2023 (which prompted the British Defense Ministry to warn that “the training likely intends to prepare students with military skills as they approach conscription age and to increase the take-up for mobilization and conscription drives”).
Beyond such schemes to develop physical skills, students are also being co-opted into “performing” some aspects of duty in supportive roles. The state is behind numerous projects and initiatives linked to preserving a particular (pro-Russian) memory of victory in the Great Patriotic War, which the authorities claim the West is trying to distort, falsify, and belittle. Officials are also positioning youth groups like Yunarmiya and Victory Volunteers as combatants in a memory war while participants are too young to fight in Russia’s actual wars.
The education system’s “functional” basis helps explain why the Russian state treats its citizens like “cannon fodder” in Ukraine. Putin’s model for patriotism goes well beyond cultivating notions of “love for the Motherland” and pride in the nation. This system overwhelms society with responsibility bound in the memories of ancestors who fought Nazi Germany. In fact, the Kremlin casts the Soviet people of the 1940s as role models for today’s younger generations, emphasizing themes of sacrifice, debt, and extraordinary resolve. The state uses these discursive tools (especially at commemorative events) for emotional blackmail, manipulating the public into participating in the state’s goals.
Together, the Russian Education Ministry’s flirtations with compulsory physical training and the campaign to mobilize historical memory highlight that the priority is not the enrichment of students’ minds and life experience but purely the practical benefits of influencing more Russians to serve in the military. Whatever federal officials say about the importance of young people today, the authorities’ philosophy is clear: so long as they’re serving the state, Russia’s youth are expendable.
It’s this thinking that drives the Kremlin’s policymaking now and for the foreseeable future.
Dr. Allyson Edwards is a lecturer in Global History at Bath Spa University in England, where she researches militarism, memory, and patriotic education in Post-Soviet Russia.