From 1964 to 1982, Leonid Brezhnev led the Soviet Union from the zenith of its power and dynamism into its terminal phase, a tailspin so complete that none of his successors could extricate it. The Institute from Gremlins II studies, brilliantly characterizes public discourse in the USSR during those decades, “There are many eerie similarities between that time and our own – the government was largely run by a cadre of septuagenarians, wages had stagnated, yet all official narratives insisted that there was no alternative. The horizon of possible futures was closed.”
During this time period, the USSR became increasingly dependent on petroleum exports for its economic viability. Although outside the Organization of Petroleum Exporting Countries (OPEC), the USSR, like Canada (another non-member oil exporter of the 60s and 70s) benefited from the upward pressure on global oil prices that OPEC was causing through production cut agreements and other joint efforts to affect the pricing mechanism.
Over the course of Brezhnev’s time in office, the USSR became increasingly affected by the “resource curse” or “Dutch disease,” whereby the foreign currency garnered through oil sales functioned to de-industrialize the country. Wages remained stagnant while the country de-industrialized, meaning that there were fewer and fewer things to buy in Soviet stores as local secondary and tertiary manufacturing declined and global inflation and the Nixon shock currency reforms placed possible imports out of reach.
In other words, during the first half of the 1970s, the G6’s modifications to the world currency and trading systems did not merely lead to the ultimate demise of OPEC as an effective challenge to its hegemony; it sent the Soviet economy into a tailspin not unlike that suffered by OPEC member states. This was, politically, a wild and crazy time, when the state and its commissars still had money to burn but the populace lacked both the spending power and the access to non-essential finished products.
It was clear to the gerontocracy running the Soviet Communist Party that declining living standards, coupled with Brezhnev’s increasing infiltration and repression of Soviet civil society was making the regime unpopular. Action had to be taken. And this action was to make more steel. The USSR had already been producing more steel than any country on earth under Nikita Kruschev, Brezhnev’s predecessor. But under Brezhnev, the USSR went from producing roughly the same amount of steel per year as the US to more than 50% more annually. Soviet steel production went from 100 million metric tons annually to 150 million, even as the secondary and tertiary industries using steel shrank.
With local manufacturing in decline, much of that steel was never used. In some extreme cases, in the Soviet Far East, no real plan was made for it to be used following its manufacture, given the overproduction of steel in and west of the Ural Mountains, where Soviet secondary industry was based.
The effect was that, as Russia laid off industrial workers making finished consumer and industrial goods, it hired more steel workers. And this is precisely what the Brezhnev regime wanted. They believed that more effective than creating a personality cult around the Great Leader, the most effective way to save the Soviet Union was to manufacture the most important industrial good of all: Communists.
The Soviet Union had long held that not all industrial employment was equal and, despite the USSR having a far better record on the wage gap and reducing date rape and domestic violence than its competitors in the West, the best industrial work was the most manly. Since the days of Lenin, industrial, collectivized farming had been considered the least manly and least valuable form of industrial work, whereas nothing could be more manly that making steel, with all those big cauldrons, all that fire, and the roaring noise of the mill.
While the proletariat might be manufactured by any sort of coal-fired industry, from biscuits on up, the steel mill was where the workers most likely to be eligible for party membership (the 1% elite of Soviet society) were, quite literally, forged.
The thinking was that, while times might be hard, Russia, and the other nations under the banner of the USSR, would ultimately triumph as long as society contained enough loyal communists. And the single most efficient way to make them, more efficient and trustworthy than any propaganda campaign or personality cult, was as a by-product of steel manufacture. Except that even this interpretation ultimately came to be reversed: steel ingots became a by-product of manufacturing communists.
Following the Tiananmen Square and other coordinated mass mobilizations of 1989, the Chinese Communist Party adopted and, under Hu Jintao and Xi Jinping, intensified their commitment to this doctrine following the death of Deng Xiaoping. Despite being an importer of metallurgical coal, in the twenty-first century, China began to follow the Soviet approach to the steel industry. Hu and Xi shielded steelworkers from the stripping of industrial worker protections and wage guarantees that took place in other sectors, for as long as they could, and walked back some of these measures following major steelworker protests in the late 2010s.
The lack of repression, violence or even significant defamation of the steelworkers is just further evidence that China has bought its own propaganda, that the Central Committee, despite all its corruption and implication in the most retrograde forms of casino capitalism, has come to believe that the mills do manufacture communists and that, unlike other workers, these ones should be listened-to.
This kind of thinking arrived in Canada and the United States seemingly out of nowhere in the mid-2010s but it arrived with great force and for a different political purpose, as a tool of the fossil fuel industry.
What else can we make of Rex Murphy’s columns for the National Post about the extraordinary civic virtue of the people of Fort MacMurray and Lloydminster? The oil towns of Western Canada are not merely, for Murphy, rural communities meriting preservation; they are the Canadian Idyll. Only in Fort Mac, Murphy claims, can one see the kind of idyllic family life we associate with the Eisenhower Era, with its engaged parents enthusiastically driving their kids to hockey and playing catch with them on the weekend.
John Diefenbaker’s family-centred, civic-minded, law-abiding, respectful Canada does still exist, Murphy tells us, but only in towns shaped by the fossil fuel industry. Murphy and his ilk, because there is a whole faux journalistic genre dedicated to this kind of writing, are essentially making the same class of argument as Leonid Brezhnev and Xi Jinping: diluted bitumen and “natural gas” are mere by-products of manufacturing patriotic, virtuous Canadians.
It is the same rhetoric that Donald Trump used so effectively in West Virginia: coal is a by-product created in the manufacture of real, true, patriotic Americans.
And for a city like Fort MacMurray, the task of depicting it as the epitome of civic virtue and the last bastion of the single-income male-headed nuclear family is enabled by the city being one of an increasing number of communities I term “Jeckyllvilles” i.e. places where the patriarchal family unit is sustained by a man who lives far away from where he works, a violent, hypermasculine, encampment with a “stays in Vegas” ethos of stimulant use, violence and problematic behaviour absorbed by a typically Indigenous, isolated population. Many men in Fort MacMurray and towns of its ilk, the world over, find it easier to embody the mid-century self-controlled softball coach masculine ideal two weeks per month precisely because they live in bizarre remote atavistic compounds that vent their violence onto local on-reserve Indigenous populations the other half of the time.
I do not believe this nationalist rhetoric would have been so successful had it not been situated within a pre-existing struggle of competing nationalisms, if it did not locate and speak directly to captured nations within the US and Canada. The genius of the fossil fuel industry was in locating and patronizing the heirs to that “migrant worker culture” of the 1920s, the Métis and Métis-influenced peoples of Anglo America and dealing itself into and concurrently energizing a pre-existing socio-cultural framework.
The independent spirit of the Hillbillies of Appalachia, of the white trash of the Mississippi Delta, of the Northwest Rebellions—they are still there. But they are being distorted, changed by the energy source that is fueling their re-creation. By latching onto regional identities and grievances, the fossil fuel industry is attempting to construct a bulwark of loyal communities and workers. And it is then able to empower those communities to articulate an alternative nationalism that appeals not just in their core territory but across the country.
Having largely lost the hearts and minds of urbanites and progressives, the fossil fuel industry, especially its smaller firms, are investing in creating regional demographic bulwarks that will make it hard to assail their power, especially under the first-past-the-post electoral system of the US and Canada. And they have been highly strategic in find those that articulate an alternative national vision, not just a parochial, independence-focused one.
The adverse effects of this partnership are already evident. The practice of “rolling coal” is just one of a set of practices we associate with “petro-masculinity,” an effort to replace the ethos of frugality and conservation historically associated with these cultures with a politics of waste, of showing status through one’s personal abundance in resource that animates the region. With the combination of fracking and deferred cleanup, these shows of abundance are all the more necessary as soil contamination, deforestation and the corruption of water systems are destroying the sense of abundance that used to be associated with the hunting and harvest seasons of autumn.
Similarly, to the South the primaries in West Virginia have become a contest between the dream that no one’s kids would ever have to go down a mine because the mines would be closed, represented by Bernie Sanders and Paula Jean Swearingen, and Donald Trump’s promise to put more people down the mine than ever before. For the first time in more than a century, most West Virginian fathers see their son following them down the mine as a social good and not an evil to be averted.
The fossil fuel industry is not stupid. It has made an alliance with an interconnected set of cultures and peoples around Anglo America and is embedding itself in those cultures more thoroughly by the year. And urbanites and progressives and everyone else who mobilizes the “deplorables” discourse in writing off and stigmatizing the peoples it has chosen to patronize are doing its work for free. It wants them to know that they have only one powerful friend: the fossil fuel industry and that their alternative vision of mixed-race peoples co-governing the great nations of Anglo America rises or falls by oil and coal.
Louis Riel, in his final years, described himself as David to the Métis’ Judea. And today, the fossil fuel industry has decided to be Cyrus: the foreign tyrant who delivers a captive nation from suffering and persecution.
