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Part 8: Foundations

Chapter 36: The Constitutional Convention: The Debates

The choice of the Tauride Palace in St. Petersburg was a deliberate act of historical exorcism. Here, in the elegant, columned hall where Russia’s first, doomed parliament had met, the new Russia would attempt to be born. The air was electric with a chaotic, unscripted energy—a blend of fervent hope and raw, undisguised tension. For the first time in a generation, the sound of a real political debate echoed in Russia.

Alexei Voronkov, as the convener, stood at the rostrum, looking out at the fractious assembly. He saw Elena Petrova, a quiet icon of moral authority, sitting with the delegates from civil society. He saw Kirill, a symbol of the new technocratic generation, advising on digital governance. And he saw the deep, ideological fault lines that threatened to tear them all apart before they had even begun.

The first debate was over the soul of the economy. A slick, Western-educated economist from Moscow argued passionately for a new “shock therapy,” for rapid privatization to attract the foreign investment they desperately needed. He was immediately shouted down by a gruff, populist delegate from a factory town in the Urals. “We just threw out one gang of oligarchs!” the man roared. “Are you asking us to invite a new one from London and New York? The Dividend is the start! The people must own the industries, not just the profits!”

But the truly explosive debate was over the soul of the nation itself. A nationalist delegate, a man who had despised the old President but still dreamed of a great, imperial Russia, spoke of the need to protect the primacy of the Russian language and the Orthodox faith.

He was answered by a new, powerful voice. Khadija Aminova, a sharp, fearless lawyer from Dagestan, her head covered in a simple, elegant hijab, took the floor. She spoke in flawless, beautifully articulated Russian, her words cutting through the chamber’s thick atmosphere of patriotic rhetoric.

“For a century,” she said, her gaze sweeping across the mostly Slavic faces before her, “we have been told we live in a federation, while being treated like a colony. The President you just overthrew spoke endlessly of the ‘Russian World’—the Russkiy Mir. If this new constitution you are drafting speaks only of a ‘Russian’—Russkiy—state, a nation defined by one ethnicity and one religion, then you have changed the man in the Kremlin, but you have not torn down the prison.”

She paused, letting the challenging words hang in the silent hall. “We must build a Rossiyskiy state. A nation of all of Russia’s citizens. Tatar, Chechen, Buryat, and Russian. United by a passport and a shared belief in the future, not by blood and a shared belief in God.”

The chamber erupted. The nationalists shouted her down as a separatist; the liberals applauded. The convention was deadlocked, on the verge of collapsing into a yelling match of irreconcilable visions. Voronkov called a recess.

He met with Elena and Khadija in a quiet side chamber, the angry shouts from the main hall still audible through the thick wooden doors.

“My people will walk,” Khadija said, her voice cold and final. There was no bluff in her tone. “If this new Russia is just the old empire with a prettier face, we will have no part in it. Your entire project will lose its legitimacy.”

Voronkov looked exhausted, trapped between the competing demands of his fragile coalition. He turned to Elena, the one person in the room whose authority was purely moral.

Elena looked first at Khadija. “He is right,” she said, nodding to Voronkov. “We cannot build a new economy on old hatreds.” Then she turned her steady, unwavering gaze on Voronkov. “And she is right, Alexei. My son did not die so we could create a Russia where a boy from Dagestan is seen as less of a citizen than a boy from Moscow.” Her voice was quiet, but it carried an immense, unanswerable weight. “We must find a way. This constitution must guarantee not just wealth, but dignity.”

In the quiet of that small room, a fragile compromise began to form. A new chapter, built around two pillars: a universal Dividend that bound all citizens together economically, and constitutionally protected, meaningful autonomy for the republics that recognized their unique cultural identities. The process was messy, angry, and uncertain. But it was real. It was the painful, authentic, and discordant sound of a new nation struggling to be born.

The Discourse, 36: The Theory of Constitutional Bargaining

Section 36.1: The Symbolic Importance of Place
The choice to hold the Constitutional Convention in the Tauride Palace is a powerful act of political symbolism. The Kremlin is the historical seat of Russian autocracy and centralized power. The Tauride Palace, by contrast, is the symbol of Russia's brief, fragile experiment with parliamentary democracy in the early 20th century. By deliberately choosing this venue, the new government is engaging in "symbolic statecraft." They are publicly signaling a break with the autocratic tradition and an intentional, historical connection to a suppressed democratic legacy. This is a crucial step in building a new national narrative and legitimizing the new political order.

Section 36.2: The Fundamental Tension: "Civic" vs. "Ethnic" Nationalism
The core debate of the convention, as articulated by Khadija Aminova, is the fundamental tension between two competing models of the nation-state. The nationalist faction advocates for an "ethnic" nationalism (Russkiy), where the state is defined by and belongs to a dominant ethnic, linguistic, and religious group. Khadija argues for a "civic" nationalism (Rossiyskiy), where the nation is defined as a pluralistic community of all citizens who share a common set of political values and a belief in a shared future, regardless of their ethnicity or religion. This is arguably the most important and difficult question any post-imperial nation must answer, and the failure to resolve it is the primary source of instability and civil conflict in many parts of the world.

Section 36.3: The Role of the "Moral Arbiter" in Political Bargaining
The negotiation in the side chamber demonstrates a classic element of successful constitutional bargaining: the role of the "moral arbiter." Both Voronkov (representing the pragmatic state) and Khadija (representing a powerful interest group) are locked in a political standoff. Elena Petrova, who holds no formal political power, is able to break the deadlock because her authority is not political; it is moral. Her suffering gives her a unique standing to speak for the "soul of the nation." Her intervention allows both sides to compromise without losing face, as they are not bowing to political pressure from each other, but to the moral authority of a figure who represents the people's sacrifice. This role is often essential for bridging the gap between irreconcilable political positions.