Thank God it’s Friday

Beer or vodka? It’s Friday, and we thought we’d help you decide where to go for that after-work drink.

Vladimir Putin famously called the collapse of the Soviet Union the greatest geopolitical catastrophe of the twentieth century. And since the Russian president evidently considers himself a man of no small intelligence – if not a brilliant strategist, then certainly a brilliant tactician – he’s doing his utmost to avoid repeating mistakes made by the Soviet leadership in the 1980s.

One such mistake was the anti-alcohol campaign that ended up earning Mikhail Gorbachev the moniker of Mineral Secretary. Vineyards were mercilessly destroyed, vodka distilleries closed, production of anything intoxicating reduced. The upshot of all this? Antithetical to the intended one: rancour, hatred, scuffles in liquor and spirits departments. People took to drinking cologne, lab alcohol, even brake fluid. Which is eminently understandable; after all, alcohol abuse was a consequence rather than a cause of the misfortunes afflicting the Soviet people, who drank themselves into oblivion out of sheer hopelessness and despair.

And where are we today? Vladimir Putin has had effective power in various guises for seventeen years. Russia has instigated several senseless wars, inviting Western sanctions; the rouble has fallen, while prices have risen; and there are still no prospects of change in sight. MegaFon, one of the country’s largest mobile phone operators, has abandoned the slogan “The Future Depends on You,” because even a six-year-old knows that the future doesn’t depend on anyone in Russia.

But Putin is, to put it mildly, no Gorbachev. It’s not for nothing that an eponymous vodka brand – Putinka – was launched in his honour in 2003. No one’s about to wreak further destruction on Russia’s vineyards. Notably, the Kremlin’s so-called counter-sanctions, which prohibited the import of cheese, fruit and meat (among other products) from Europe, did not extend to wine. Fancy a cheeky Pinot Grigio or a Bordeaux? Knock yourself out – doesn’t even have to be on a Friday. Or enjoy a glass of Putinka, if your kopecks are running low. After all, life in Russia isn’t quite as miserable when you’re nicely sozzled.

Sooner or later, though, you sober up and find yourself massively hung-over. So it is with the post-Crimea euphoria. According to data from the Levada Center, the upsurge of patriotism generated by the annexation of the peninsula two and a half years ago has now almost completely subsided – as drunkenness is always followed by a hangover. We’re returning to early-2014 levels of public contentment – and, more importantly, discontent – with the situation in the country. The bombardment of Aleppo, about which most Russians couldn’t care less, isn’t going to change a thing in that regard.

How, then, can the government increase approval ratings – or at least decrease discontent? One word: vodka. At least, that is the thinking.

The Ministry of Economic Development – which really is a misnomer – has proposed reducing the minimum retail price of half-litre bottles of vodka from 190 to 136 roubles [$2.18]. The formal reason for this move is that lower alcohol costs would discourage drinkers from turning to moonshine. But, needless to say, everyone knows what the deal is here. The Ministry of Industry and Trade went one further and suggested a minimum price of 100 roubles – little more than a buck and a half. In fairness, it should be noted that the Ministry of Finance, for its part, has proposed increasing the price to 197 roubles as well as raising excise duties, thus boosting state coffers – but it’s long been known that this particular ministry is full of systemic liberals who shouldn’t be taken seriously.

Whoever might prevail in this intra-governmental battle – not the first in recent times, and certainly not the last – you can’t help but suspect that it will ultimately prove of little consequence. For, believe it or not, vodka – an instrument of social control in Russia for over half a millennium – has recently begun to lose its grip on the gullets of the country’s population.

Hold on; let me get a handle on that. The hard stuff is really on the way out? You mean, no more Russian vodka jokes? ’fraid so. Yes: the claim is borne out by hard stats. Slon magazine recently used data from Rosstat to put together a map of Russians’ preferences, confirming what many have long suspected anyway: beer is dethroning vodka as Russia’s poison of choice.

Vodka is still holding its own in the Russian North, in the Urals and in the Far East. That is, in the most Russian of Russia’s regions – the “Wild North” and the “Wild East,” historically crushed by collectivisation and gulags; regions that aren’t merely cold but downright depressing, whatever the weather.

In warmer regions, however, vodka is being absolutely owned by beer. Not only in major cities, but across the board: in central Russia, in the Volga region, and in swathes of southern Siberia.

This isn’t just a gastronomic trend; it is, so to speak, a symptom of the liberalisation of social mores. Beer, a slow drink that encourages gradual inebriation, is far more closely allied than vodka to European civilisation and culture. As for wine, it still enjoys comparatively little popularity in Russia – and the same goes for “Western” spirits such as whisky, rum, tequila and gin. But, among the younger generations of Russians, vodka’s grip is progressively loosening. This is the Russia of the future – a European Russia. A Russia more akin to Germany, say, with its tradition of Oktoberfest, than to Asian despotic regimes. A Russia that the Kremlin can no longer control simply by lowering the price of vodka – Putinka or no Putinka.

Cheers.