Traditional Tatar literature is virtually inaccessible for modern Tatars for a similar reason. Till the 20th c we used to be a Persianate culture, so being "educated" implied a decent knowledge of Farsi (at least) and Arabic (ideally). You needed to be at least bilingual
That helped to differ the registers of language. For example, in English a word constructed on a original Germanic root would be of lowest register, with French root being higher and Latin even higher than that. Consider terms "kingly", "royal" and "regal" for example
In Tatar a word with an originally Turkic root would be considered of a lower register, while a borrowed Arabic or Farsi word - of higher. For example a Turkic word for a nightingale "Sandugach" would be viewed as mundane while a Farsi "Bulbul" - very poetic
The Turkic word for God "Tengri" coexisted in Tatar with Farsi "Khoda" and Arabic "Allah". Counterintuitively, Khoda was almost as legit as Allah, even though originally it referred to the Zoroastrian deity. The name of the old Turkic Sky God "Tengri" however, was not that legit
Even though the modern Tatar retained tons of Arabic and Farsi words, the old bi- and trilinguality culture is dead, making the old literature incomprehensible. It's not only about an author just suddenly switching to the Farsi or even to Arabic for seemingly no reason at all
Even the fragments written on Turkic are incomprehensible now. For example, in an old manuscript you can see a Turkic word. If you just read it literally, you get literal (=wrong) meaning of a passage. The real meaning is hidden or rather implied
If you read this Turkic literally you get a wrong understanding of a text. The key here is not its literal meaning but an allusion to another Farsi word which sounds very much alike, but has completely different meaning. To read the text properly you have to be bilingual
Leo Strauss had this idea about much of old literature being esoteric, in a sense that it has two meanings: explicit (wrong) and implicit (correct). I don't know if it's generally correct but it seems to be sort of true when it comes to the old Tatar literature
With the culture of bilinguality dead and almost no one being fluent in Farsi nowadays, the old texts and the old tradition are inaccessible to almost anyone. What used to be the northernmost edge of the Islamic and Persianate world is now almost completely de-Persianized
On the modern Tatar culture and society I very much recommend this book. It's really good. The end
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Fake jobs are completely normal & totally natural. The reason is: nobody understands what is happening and most certainly does not understand why. Like people, including the upper management have some idea of what is happening in an organisation, and this idea is usually wrong.
As they do not know and cannot know causal relations between the input and output, they just try to increase some sort of input, in a hope for a better output, but they do not really know which input to increase.
Insiders with deep & specific knowledge, on the other hand, may have a more clear & definite idea of what is happening, and even certain, non zero degree of understanding of causal links between the input and output
I have recently read someone comparing Trump’s tariffs with collectivisation in the USSR. I think it is an interesting comparison. I don’t think it is exactly the same thing of course. But I indeed think that Stalin’s collectivisation offers an interesting metaphor, a perspective to think about
But let’s make a crash intro first
1. The thing you need to understand about the 1920s USSR is that it was an oligarchic regime. It was not strictly speaking, an autocracy. It was a power of few grandees, of the roughly equal rank.
2. Although Joseph Stalin established himself as the single most influential grandee by 1925, that did not make him a dictator. He was simply the most important guy out there. Otherwise, he was just one of a few. He was not yet the God Emperor he would become later.
The great delusion about popular revolts is that they are provoked by bad conditions of life, and burst out when they exacerbate. Nothing can be further from truth. For the most part, popular revolts do not happen when things get worse. They occur when things turn for the better
This may sound paradoxical and yet, may be easy to explain. When the things had been really, really, really bad, the masses were too weak, to scared and too depressed to even think of raising their head. If they beared any grudges and grievances, they beared them in silence.
When things turn for the better, that is when the people see a chance to restore their pride and agency, and to take revenge for all the past grudges, and all the past fear. As a result, a turn for the better not so much pacifies the population as emboldens and radicalises it.
The first thing to understand about the Russian-Ukrainian war is that Russia did not plan a war. And it, most certainly, did not plan the protracted hostilities of the kind we are seeing today
This entire war is the regime change gone wrong.
Russia did not want a protracted war (no one does). It wanted to replace the government in Kyiv, put Ukraine under control and closely integrate it with Russia
(Operation Danube style)
One thing to understand is that Russia viewed Ukraine as a considerable asset. From the Russian perspective, it was a large and populous country populated by what was (again, from the Russian perspective) effectively the same people. Assimilatable, integratable, recruitable
In 1991, Moscow faced two disobedient ethnic republics: Chechnya and Tatarstan. Both were the Muslim majority autonomies that refused to sign the Federation Treaty (1992), insisting on full sovereignty. In both cases, Moscow was determined to quell them.
Still, the final outcome could not be more different. Chechnya was invaded, its towns razed to the ground, its leader assassinated. Tatarstan, on the other hand, managed to sign a favourable agreement with Moscow that lasted until Putin’s era.
The question is - why.
Retrospectively, this course of events (obliterate Chechnya, negotiate with Tatarstan) may seem predetermined. But it was not considered as such back then. For many, including many of Yeltsin’s own partisans it came as a surprise, or perhaps even as a betrayal.