Vladislav Surkov is perhaps the most powerful man you have never heard of. A close advisor of Vladimir Putin, Surkov is in many ways the architect of today’s political world of confusion, disinformation, and ambiguity. Known as the ‘Grey Cardinal’ he was instrumental in securing Vladimir Putin’s long reign and altering Russia’s post-Cold War path from pro-Western democracy to expansionist authoritarian regime. He also writes science fiction.
Precise biographical details are difficult to track down for Surkov, adding to the aura of mystery that surrounds him. He was born in 1962 or 1964, to a Russian mother and an Chechen father. At birth he was known as Aslambek Dudayev, a clearly Chechen name, which he eventually changed to Vladislav Surkov. Surkov was a bright child and moved to Moscow to study metallurgy before dropping out to attend art school and study theatre direction. Whilst Surkov’s experience with theatre would go on to shape his political strategy, he did not complete the programme, dropping out after three years. In the time of Perestroika and Glastnost, Surkov entered the emerging business world. Communism was beginning to collapse, and a new generation of capitalistic elites was going to take over Russia. Surkov was on the cutting edge of this transformation. Some versions of versions of Surkov’s origin have him working as a bodyguard for the oligarch Mikhail Khodorkovsky, before eventually being promoted. What we do know is that he worked as an ad-man for the Khodorkovsky in the twilight of the communist era, and managed to get some of the first ever television ads past the Soviet censors. Surkov’s success in advertising would help to propel him to power.
By the late 1990s Russia was in a bad way. The economy was in the gutter after the failure of the capitalist reforms, the President was a drunkard and the country was ruled by a small coterie of oligarchs. Vladimir Putin, an ex-KGB agent was being groomed as Yeltsin’s successor. An unknown figure, Putin was thought to be easily manipulated by the oligarchs, but it did not turn out this way. By the time Putin officially became President, Surkov was already working as Deputy Chief of Staff for Yeltsin, having moved on from the private sector. As the world entered the new millennium Putin and Surkov would play a key role in the transformation of Russia.
Surkov’s time as Putin’s advisor was characterized by his sly manipulation of the opposition and his subtle strengthening of Putin’s grip on power. One of the ways Surkov did this was described by the documentarian Adam Curtis. Curtis states that ‘Surkov turned Russian politics into a bewildering constantly changing piece of theatre’. Drawing from his artistic background Surkov worked to blur political reality. He funded various political groupings, some pro-government and some anti-government. These included mass anti-fascist youth organization and neo-Nazi skinheads. Surkov even supported political parties such as the Communist party, that were nominally opposed to the government but were in fact, controlled opposition. By supporting a wide range of political actors Surkov was able to create political spectacle that cemented the Putin regime. He created an atmosphere of distrust and made sure that no one knew what was really going on.
Surkov also spread confusion regarding his own life. In 2009 a novel was published called Околоноля or Close to Zero. It was about a public relations man called Yegor who has to deal with journalists, politicians and the Russian criminal underground. The book received critical acclaim, but the author, Nathan Dubovitsky, remained a mystery. That was until it was revealed that Nathan Dubovitsky was simply a pseudonym for Surkov, based on his wife’s name. Surkov would continue to deny that he wrote the book, but he did write an introduction to it under his real name. In it he wrote that: "The author of this novel is an unoriginal Hamlet-obsessed hack" but that "this is the best book I have ever read". This is the contradiction that is typical of Surkov. He writes a semi-autobiographical novel, publishes it under a pseudonym that makes it clear he wrote it, and then both denies and confirms he is the writer.
After a period of time in the political wilderness during Putin’s third term, Surkov returned in a big way. In 2014 he was Putin’s main man in Ukraine, organising the ongoing civil war there. Ukrainian authorities alleged that Surkov was responsible for sending snipers to kill both protestors and policemen during the January Euromaidan protest; despite this being yet another example of Surkovian disruption tactics, the Kremlin has denied the allegation. For his involvement in the Ukrainian Civil War, the United States included Surkov of their sanction list. To this Surkov replied: “I see the decision by the administration in Washington as an acknowledgment of my service to Russia. It’s a big honor for me. I don’t have accounts abroad. The only things that interest me in the U.S. are Tupac Shakur, Allen Ginsberg, and Jackson Pollock. I don’t need a visa to access their work. I lose nothing.”
Surkov also published a science fiction story that year called ‘Without Sky’. Again, he wrote it under a pseudonym, and again it obtusely hinted at his real life occupation. ‘Without Sky’ begins simply. ‘There was no sky over our village.’ Then the reader is introduced to the two levels of the story, a personal one and a political one. Personally, the story follows a young boy whose parents are killed in a conflict. The sky above their village becomes a battleground and his parents are the victims of falling debris. The boy is fundamentally changed by the battle. ‘They were killed. I wasn’t. Death wound round their bodies but didn’t reach mine. My brain was just touched by its black and stifling presence. Something boiled out of my brain and evaporated: the third dimension, height.’ The protagonist can only see things two dimensionally. There is only length and width, good and bad, black and white, lie and truth. He can still see his village, but it is without sky. At the end of the story, the protagonist leads a political revolution ‘a revolt of the simple, two-dimensionals against the complex and sly’. Whether this is a success is left unanswered.
On the political level the story also explores ideas which are relevant today. Surkov’s action in Ukraine, his use of hybrid warfare tactics, ‘little green men,’ and propaganda are all echoed in the politics of the story. The battle that left the village without sky takes places during World War V. This war was different from the others. ‘This was the first non-linear war. In the primitive wars of the nineteenth, twentieth, and other middle centuries, the fight was usually between two sides: two nations or two temporary alliances. But now, four coalitions collided, and it wasn’t two against two, or three against one. It was all against all.’ Coalitions, unsteady alliances and shifting sides, it seems eerily close to the situation in Donbass.
Winning the war also isn’t the clear aim of all sides, as it had been in the past. ‘Some peoples joined the war specifically to be defeated. They were inspired by the flowering of Germany and France after being routed in the second World War.’ Through defeat therefore there could be victory. In the midst of outlining the future of warfare and international relations, Surkov cannot help himself but to include a dig at Western progressivism; one of the sides in the coalitions bans the concepts of male and female, ‘since sexual differentiation undermines the unity of the nation.’
Surkov’s short story, through sharp writing and plenty of imagination manages to reveal what lies at the heart of Russian foreign policy in the 21st century. Surkov, through his hobby of writing gives us an invaluable glimpse into the Russian mindset revealing all in the space of a science fiction tale. ‘Without Sky’ is even taught at some American Army colleges as it illuminates on the uncertain and ever-changing nature of modern warfare. Or perhaps it doesn’t. Perhaps it’s all fiction. Propaganda. Some clever game to make us doubt ourselves. Because with Vladislav Surkov, you never know.
This article originally appeared in Interkom magazine.