Ilya Yablokov’s Fortress Russia comes out at a propitious moment, in which conspiracy theories are in vogue as a form of political rhetoric across much of the world. This sharp and illuminating book focuses mostly on the political ends that conspiracy theories serve, and explains how they are used by politicians to win public support and consolidate national identity. Yablokov’s argument, in a nutshell, is that “Conspiracy theories play a crucial role in Russia’s turn to authoritarianism and have served as a trigger for numerous public campaigns to justify repressive legislation” (4). But one of the virtues of this book is that is takes seriously the content of conspiracy claims, worthy of analysis in their own right for what they tell us about how Russia’s elite views the world.

Yablokov begins by tackling the existing literature on conspiracy theories, much of it from the US and the discipline of psychology, and critiquing approaches that fall into the “symbolic” and “realist” camps. He endorses a view, advocated by Mark Fenster (Reference Mark1999), that conspiracy theories are populist at their core, in that they pit a “trustworthy people” against a “treacherous elite” (10). Yet Yablokov is forced to undertake a small leap in adapting Fenster’s framework—which was originally developed to analyze grassroots conspiracy claims about the evils of the US government—to Russia. In Russia, the rhetoric is ultimately appropriated by the most powerful actors in the country and used as a tool of repression.

After a brief theoretical overview, the book summarizes the history of conspiracism in Russia up to 1991, and continues with a quasi-sociological analysis of the role of intellectualsFootnote ¹ in Russian society and the ways their ideas diffuse to the rising political elite. The bulk of the book, Chapters 3 through 7, examines conspiracy theories by theme and roughly chronologically, as the dominant narratives progress from a fixation on the collapse of the USSR, through hysteria about western NGOs, and culminate in the Ukraine crisis. In one sense, this book offers an alternative to conventional accounts of Russia’s post-Soviet political development—one centered on the rise of a meta-narrative about the existential threat the West poses to Russia.

Observers who have studied the evolution of Russian politics might be surprised to learn that official political discourse places Russia’s rulers on the same side as “the people” against their common adversaries—and has mostly gotten away with it. Yablokov argues that it is the seductive narrative of a conspiracy against Russia that has allowed the Kremlin and its allies to carry out this sleight of hand. Yablokov deftly frames his analysis of conspiracy discourse against the political backdrop of the era. He shines light on the conspiratorial undertow of the greatest hits of the era, including the coup against Mikhail Gorbachev, Yeltsin’s impeachment, the color revolutions, Nashi, Pussy Riot, and the annexation of Crimea. He provides a structured discussion of the ideas and influence of borderline household names, such as writer/philosopher Alexander Dugin, political technologists Vladislav Surkov and Gleb Pavlovsky, and media personality Dmitri Kiselyov. Devoted conspiracy hobbyists will also be familiar with niche ideas such as the Dulles plan (to bring about the Soviet Union’s destruction by corrupting the morals of its citizens) and US Secretary of State Madelaine Albright’s alleged (but imaginary) claim that the world should divide up Russia’s natural resources.

Using his analytical lens, Yablokov successfully recasts the past 25 years of Russian history as a conspiratorial progression, and makes several important contributions. First, someone who just tuned in could be forgiven for imagining that Russians are inveterate conspiracy theorists and have been this way since time immemorial. While Yablokov does note the long lineage of Russian conspiracy theories, he also provides necessary context for the post-Euromaidan conspiratorial hysteria. He traces how ideas that once percolated on the nationalist fringe gradually entered the mainstream political discourse, not entirely through design but also due to Russia’s stumbles and legitimate threats as it sought to chart a path after communism. Conspiracy theories became attractive in large part as a result of Russia’s relative weakness vis-à-vis the West, rather than the Kremlin’s strength in relation to society.

Second and related, Yablokov provides a necessary corrective to (usually lay) analyses that depict Russia as a monolith and the Kremlin as all-powerful. He identifies the different actors who promote conspiracy claims—intellectuals, politicians, and the president’s inner circle—to demonstrate several important points that are useful for analyzing Russian politics in any context. He shows that the interests of those actors are not always aligned and that public intellectuals do not take marching orders from Putin. In fact, it was the Kremlin (Putin’s spin doctors, primarily) who initially borrowed rhetoric tropes from unaffiliated intellectuals rather than the reverse. Someone tuning in to Channel One and projecting today’s centralization of power into the past might have presumed otherwise.

In focusing the lens on conspiracy, Yablokov necessarily plays down other critical elements in the legitimation of Putinism: economic growth and a rising middle class, the semblance of competent governance, hubristic western policies, and Putin’s personal charisma. Looking at Putin’s state of the nation addresses or his campaign speeches shows that his claims to rule center on mundane matters like competence and improvement of living standards. Conspiracy may pervade the airwaves in Russia, but it is not clear that it motivates voters or substitutes for decent policy choices.

Also, although keeping theory at a minimum is good for readability, it would have been useful to check in at various times in the book. Fenster’s populist framework is so encompassing that it can account for wildly disparate phenomena. Communist appeals against Yeltsin were populist, but so was Putin’s demonization of a female punk collective. Should we conclude that they are the same phenomenon? Similarly, a more informed account of change over time might be warranted. It is not clear from the text whether the mainstreaming and increasing pervasiveness of conspiracy in the Russian public discourse was inevitable or accidental and driven by discrete events. A narrative more informed by theories of institutional change or framing in social movements might help make sense of these radical shifts.

Overall, though, this is book makes important intellectual contributions to the study of Russia and the role of ideas in politics. The account in this book is more relevant than it should be. In an era in which leaders in autocracies and democracies alike accuse their political foes of disloyalty and use the specter of fifth columns to further entrench their power, Putin’s Russia looks like a vanguard. This book is therefore not only a study of the past, but also potentially a guide for understanding how contemporary regimes use populist appeals and disinformation to implement authoritarian policies while enjoying public support—as least for now.