Pippa Norris and Kseniya Kizlova have crunched some numbers from the European Social Survey’s Ukraine sample (2,901 people) to investigate “what mobilises the Ukrainian resistance?“

In autumn 2020, Europeans were asked: “Of course, we all hope that there will not be another war, but if it were to come to that, would you be willing to fight for your country?” About 70% of Ukrainians said yes.

That number isn’t especially meaningful on its own, since it is hypothetical. However, the correlates of the responses are interesting. As the table from Norris and Kizlova shows, Ukrainians were more likely to say they would fight if they felt patriotic, if they spoke Ukrainian rather than Russian at home, if they were confident in their government, and if they supported democratic values. Those are outputs of a statistical model, so they imply that each of these factors matters by itself. For instance, democratic values correlate with a willingness to fight when holding patriotism/nationalism constant. Also note that although speaking Ukrainian was a correlate of willingness to fight, 51% of those who spoke Russian at home said yes.

Since this was a question about personally taking up arms, it is not surprising that being male and younger correlated with positive responses. In general, the literature on nonviolent resistance suggests that it mobilizes people who are not young men.

Norris & Kizlova find regional differences, but not in a simple way. Indeed, the highest rate of willingness to fight was immediately adjacent to the Russian proxy “republics” in the east, followed by the Lviv area far to the west.

See also: civilian resistance in Ukraine, Russia, and Belarus; when a university is committed to democracy (about the Ukrainian Catholic University in Lviv); and why I stand with Ukraine (from 2015)

Yesterday, I posted about prospects for nonviolent resistance in Ukraine and in Russia. Perhaps “civilian resistance” is a better heading. That category would include throwing a Molotov cocktail or firing grandpa’s hunting rifle as well as classic nonviolent acts like marches and occupations. My point is not that civilian resistance is better than military defense, or that refraining from violence is–or isn’t–morally superior. I hope for every possible Ukrainian success on the battlefield. But I believe that civilian resistance also has real potential, and indeed, that resistance by Russian civilians offers the best hope in this dire situation.

So I will try to track relevant developments, although with no hope of being comprehensive.

• This is Rob Lee’s thread of videos showing Ukrainian civilians successfully blocking Russian troops–evidence of courage and of Russian soldiers’ reluctance to kill.
• This a thread by my Tufts colleague Oxana Shevel arguing that Ukrainian civilians will make the country ungovernable by Russian occupiers.
• Alexei Navalny’s group is officially calling for civil disobedience against the war. OVD-Info is reporting that 6,494 Russians have been detained in “anti-war actions” since Feb 24.
• Despite the incredible difficulty of organizing resistance in Belarus, there have been antiwar protests in several Belarusian cities.
• When Ukrainian government officials express deep sadness about the deaths of Russian soldiers, they reframe the conflict as Putin versus the peoples of both countries. This framing invites Russian civilians to help end the war and creates the basis for reconciliation. It reminds me of the way Lincoln describes Confederate deaths in the Second Inaugural Address. He bears responsibility for these deaths as the leader of the North’s military effort, “upon which all else chiefly depends.” Yet he presents both sides’ losses as a shared sacrifice to end slavery and build a better society. Similarly, in honoring the Union dead at Gettysburg, Lincoln never mentions their bloody military victory (or the Confederates’ loss) but describes the soldiers’ sacrifice almost as if it had been nonviolent. In both cases–Lincoln and Ukraine–I presume the sorrow is genuine, but it is also a brilliant strategy.

I have no way of estimating the chances of success in any of these three countries, but guessing the odds is not our task. We should do everything we can to increase the probability of successful civilian (and military) resistance by contributing money, upholding the best examples, and advocating for support in our own countries and institutions.

On Ukraine, see also: prospects for nonviolent resistance in Ukraine and in Russia; why I stand with Ukraine (from 2015); working on civic education in Ukraine (2017); and Ukraine means borderland (2017)

On civilian resistance, see also: the case for (and against) nonviolence; self-limiting popular politics; Why Civil Resistance Works; the kind of sacrifice required in nonviolence.

October 8-10, 2021

Sponsored by Tufts University’s Tisch College of Civic Life and the association “i-dijaspora,” Switzerland

Co-organized by Peter Levine, Tufts University, and Nenad Stojanovi?, University of Geneva, with academic collaborations in Bosnia and Herzegovina

Discussions about deliberative democracy represent one significant area of focus for the emerging interdisciplinary field of Civic Studies (Levine and So?tan 2014). Deliberative democracy is also a component of the Council of Europe’s Action Plan for Bosnia and Herzegovina and inspires ongoing work in the City of Mostar. An international group of scholars and practitioners will meet from 8 October (evening) until 10 October (midday) to learn about the deliberations in Mostar, to consider theoretical frameworks and their practical applications, and to discuss the value–and possible limitations–of deliberation. Participants will be asked to read selected texts in advance and will spend the time in discussion.

Approximately 20 participants will be selected on the basis of their backgrounds and expertise, level of interest in the topic, and diversity of perspectives. Postgraduate students, university faculty, journalists, and experienced practitioners from civil society and government are welcome to apply. Applicants are welcome from any country. There is no fee for participation, and meals will be provided. Limited subsidies will be available for travel and lodgings for some of those who demonstrate need. The language of the readings and discussions will be English.

To apply, please complete this form, which will include a request to upload your CV.
Deadline: 30 April 2021

This article is now in print: Levine, P. Why protect civil liberties during a pandemic? Journal of Public Health Policy (2021). https://doi.org/10.1057/s41271-020-00263-w. Springer is making the full text available here. The abstract follows:

During a public health emergency, a government must balance public welfare, equity, individual rights, and democratic processes and norms. These goods may conflict. Although science has a role in informing wise policy, no empirical evidence or algorithm can determine how to balance competing goods under conditions of uncertainty. Especially in a crisis, it is crucial to have a broad and free conversation about public policy. Many countries are moving in the opposite direction. Sixty one percent of governments have imposed at least some problematic restrictions on individual rights or democratic processes during the COVID-19 pandemic, and 17 have made substantial negative changes. The policies of Poland and Hungary reflect these global trends and continue these countries’ recent histories of democratic erosion. The expertise of public health should be deployed in defense of civil liberties.

(Baton Rouge, LA) In 1930, Gandhi wrote to the Viceroy of India–one of innumerable such letters. His thesis: British rule in India was a “curse.” Among his complaints: the Viceroy was paid five thousand times as much as the average Indian, whereas the British Prime Minister was paid only 90 times as much as the average Briton. Gandhi didn’t quite spell it out, but I think he implied that a government that depends on the consent of the governed will not overpay its leaders, but an empire may.

Today, India has a Prime Minister of its own. His official governmental salary is about US $26,400 per year, which is about 414 times the median income of his countrymen ($616/year).* That ratio is less than a tenth of the ratio in 1930. As Gandhi would have predicted, democratic India pays its leader much less than imperial Britain did, at least in comparison to ordinary incomes.

PM Modi declares assets of about US $350,000, but I have no idea whether such disclosures are credible. Of course, his office comes with many perks–not only the usual ones (official residences, travel, etc.), but also things like free tolls on all national highways.

Gandhi didn’t calculate the ratio between the UK Prime Minister’s salary and the average Indian salary in his time, but based on his numbers, I think it was 640-t0-one. Today, the UK Prime Minister is paid just under US $200,000 per year. That is about five times the mean individual salary in the UK, 100 times the mean income in India, and 7.5 times the salary of his Indian counterpart. The first two ratios represent a considerable improvement in equity compared to 1930. Still, the PM’s salary (by itself) would put him in the top 1% in Britain. Boris Johnson is reported to hold assets of about $2 million. And he has a nice free house in Downing Street.

If someone today were paid 5,000 times as much as a median Indian, as the Viceroy was in 1930, that would translate to about US $3 million in annual income. That would be much higher than any government salary but far lower than the highest salaries in India’s private sector. Bollywood actor Akshay Kumar earned US $65 million last year. That is 105,000 times the median income. Mukesh Ambani, who leads Reliance Industries, has an estimated net worth of $58.4 billion.

What do these changes suggest? First, democratic and independent nations do put downward pressure on the salaries of their leaders. In fact, US $200,000 is a modest salary for the leader of the whole British Government, if one compares it to CEOs’ salaries in the private sector. However, democracies still tolerate large gaps between the pay of their political leaders and average people–perhaps wisely, to attract talent to the government. And they offer sometimes surprising perks that are not only valuable in market terms but also symbolically distance leaders from citizens. (Every Indian toll booth announces that the top officers of the national government can drive through for free.)

Meanwhile, independent democratic nations are currently tolerating enormous gaps between the average income and the highest salaries in their private sectors.

*The mean income in India is $2,016. I find that number less meaningful, but Gandhi may have been using the mean in 1930.

See also defining equity and equality; the remarkable persistence of social advantage; why some forms of advantage are more stubborn than others; and notes from India

Equipe Construindo Juntos (The Building Together Research Center) is based in Rio de Janeiro’s City of God neighborhood, made world-famous by the 2002 film. One of the key team members is my Tufts colleague Anjuli Fahlberg, a sociologist. She works as a close colleague with Ricardo Fernandes, Mirian Andrade, Jacob Portela, and about 20 Research Assistants, all from the neighborhood.

Among their projects is an elaborate survey of residents from 989 City of God households. Characteristically, the study began with open-ended discussion groups that chose the questions. The data was collected by fifteen trained and paid residents. To summarize the findings for neighbors, the research team produced “3,000 colorful pamphlets,” made presentations at local nonprofits, and earned press coverage in the major Rio newspapers.

This is an exemplary case of Participatory Action Research. Tisch College is proud to support it.

See also Participatory Action Research as Civic Studies; and nonviolent civic work under conditions of extreme violence (also on Anjuli Fahlberg’s research).

(Madrid) In June, I was with an international group, and we were lamenting that no one from any of our respective countries seems very comfortable allowing their children to walk alone to school. We all walked to school when we were kids, even though the crime rate–at least in the US–was much higher then. It seems as if parents raised in the mid-1900s let their late-1900s children walk around dangerous cities, but we are too nervous to let our early-2000s offspring do the same.

Now I am in the very dynamic and impressive MediaLab Prado, a “citizen laboratory that functions as a meeting place for the production of open cultural projects.” And I have just encountered Camino Escola Seguro, A Safe Path to School. In part, it involves knitted safety notices that assure families that local shopkeepers and residents are keeping their eyes on the streets and making them safe for children to walk to school.

I’m not saying this would work everywhere. Maybe it won’t work at all. But I love the spirit of people reclaiming the common resource of a safe walk to school.