Brands,cities and (post-)politics: A comparative analysis of urban strategies for the Universiade 2013 and the World Football Cup 2018 in Russia

Introduction

In this paper we analyse two large-scale sports events in non-central Russia from two interrelated perspectives: as important elements of a system of governance that we characterize as post-political and as playgrounds for variegated types of social activity that prompt political effects. These two mega-events are the Universiade, held in Kazan’ in July 2013, and the Football World Cup to take place in Russia in 2018 in about a dozen cities, among which we focus more specifically on Nizhny Novgorod. Despite a significant time lag – about five years – between the two events, as well as a different scope, we deem this comparative analysis reasonable and pertinent. Both the Universiade and the World Football Cup – along with the Sochi Winter Olympics of 2014 – are landmark points in a series of global Russia-hosted sports events. All of them, apart from the obvious sport connotations, are also part of Russia’s strategy of raising its international profile and boosting infrastructural changes on the regional level. Our focus on the experiences of Kazan’ and Nizhny Novgorod is justified by a decade-long tradition of a symbolic competition between these two major cities of the Volga region (and the federal district) for the mostly informal – yet meaningful for both bureaucratic politics and identity strategies – status of Russia’s “third capital” after Moscow and St. Petersburg.

The post-political thinking, widely covered in critical theory in the West (see, for example, Sharpe and Boucher, 2010), has rarely been applied to the analysis of urban policies in Eastern Europe. Accounts of post-political approaches to hosting sports mega-events are even sparser, especially when it comes to Russia beyond Moscow and St. Petersburg. In the academic literature there exist several recent works discussing mega-projects (Makarychev and Yatsyk, 2014; Kinossian, 2012; Trubina, 2012), including the Universiade 2013 (Ermolaeva, 2014; Galindabaeva, 2013; Kuznetsova, 2013) and Sochi Olympics 2014 (Müller, 2012, 2014; Orttung and Zhemukhov, 2014; Petersson and Vamling, 2013). In fact, despite an emerging interest in this topic among scholars, both domestic and international, issues of urban identities, discourses, activism and their political implications are still rarely touched upon in academic books and journals, which constitutes one of the existing gaps in the understanding of urban governance in Russia. What is even much less scrutinized is the performative components of post-political consensus-making grounded in turning mega-events in sport spectacles widely covered by the media into commodified imagery meant for mass consumption (Dubal, 2010; Horne, 2011; Liang, 2013).

Our analysis embraces both administrative aspects of preparing for mega-events and cases of contested urban transformation in the two cities, including different grass-roots reactions by social groups to the (re-)construction of sports and tourist infrastructure in the two cities. We shall focus on new urban discourses and social practices that challenge the post-political logic of municipal and/or regional authorities and thus have a certain politicizing potential. We argue that the logic of municipal and regional authorities is grounded in a post-political thinking, with such core priorities as building consensus, stimulating consumption, providing security, upgrading urban areas, developing investment opportunities and branding and selling the region’s competitive advantages on a global scale. Yet this logic is often contested by groups concerned about environmental protection, preservation of historical areas, financial transparency and accountability and other matters of public interest. In Kazan’, for example, previous large-scale projects ended up in displacement of a significant part of the urban population outside the downtown area and the demolition of the bulk of the historical part of the city (Kinossian, 2006) – a nefarious practice not unknown for Sochi as well.

The aim of the paper is two-fold. Firstly, we explore the explanatory potential of the concepts of post-politics and its derivatives, focusing on the two empirical case studies. Secondly, we identify those areas of urban life where post-political approaches face some kind of resistance from the citizenry, however loosely organized and weakly institutionalized they might be.

Our data consist of coverage from printed media and internet materials in which the construction of sports infrastructure in Nizhny Novgorod and Kazan’ were discussed. The usage of official sources of information has its limitations, basically due to the opaque nature of the policy-making system in Russia and the predominantly celebratory and optimistic tone of official discourses. This is why most of the collected empirical information came from specialized web portals that regularly cover sports events in Nizhny Novgorod and Kazan’, and from discourses developed in the new social media. ¹ We also used semi-structured and in-depth interviews, each between 30 and 60 minutes, with a group of local experts: independent scholars in political sciences and international relations involved in urban affairs in Nizhny Novgorod (n = 20, including five foreigners) and key politically active city residents, journalists and civic activists in Kazan’ (n = 20).

Structurally, the paper consists of three parts. In the first section, we contextualize the problem by placing it within a broader array of topics discussed in the international urban studies literature. The second and the third sections deal with the two cities – Nizhny Novgorod and Kazan’. In the conclusion, we compare these two cases and make some generalizations for better inscribing them in the existing contexts of international urban research.

Mega-events: meeting points for post-political discourses?

Our analysis is grounded in the application of the concept of post-politics to the field of urban studies (Swyngedouw, 2009, 2011). We single out three key components of post-politics as a set of technologies of governance and administration. Firstly, post-political strategies aim at reaching societal consensus on the basis of policy approaches publicly presented as presumably self-evident and necessitating no debate on substantial issues. In this sense, post-politics presupposes a certain degree of “urban populism” (Paddison, 2009: 1). It is manifest, in particular, in the omnipresent portrayal by Russian authorities of mega-events as allegedly bringing benefits to all city residents and fostering development of sports, with mass-scale entertainment projects as one of its pivotal elements.

Secondly, post-politics includes territorial branding as one of the most common ways of reifying symbols of regional distinctiveness, and their operationalization as an indispensable element of competition between cities and regions for international visibility and attention (Parent et al., 2012). Brands are consumer-oriented tools for advertising mega-event hosts as reliable tourist destinations and effective objects of investments (Xing and Chalip, 2006: 49–78).

Thirdly, post-politics incorporates strong elements of security and police functions, implying control, surveillance and supervision for the sake of public safety (see thesis 7 in Rancière, 2001). These measures apply from the regulation of food consumption to military protection measures against possible terrorist attacks (Johns and Johns, 2000: 219–234; Sugden, 2012: 414–429).

On all three accounts – being focused on consensus-making, brand-creation and security provision – post-political governance tends to marginalize voices of dissent and forge urban strategies on more or less unified and even standardized discourses (Swyngedouw, 2009: 601–620). The transformation of the city into a site for the “cohabitation of differences” does not constitute the key interest for post-political authorities who care more about policing, normalizing and avoiding disagreement or discussion (Van Toorn, 2007: 5). Swyngedouw, drawing on Jacques Rancière’s distinction between police and politics, argues that “the consolidation of an urban post-political arrangements runs … parallel to the rise of a neoliberal governmentality that has replaced debate, disagreement and dissensus with a series of technologies of governing that fuse around consensus, agreement, accountancy metrics and technocratic environmental management” (Swyngedouw, 2009: 604). It is noteworthy that in sociological literature the very idea of sports as spectacle is interpreted as conducive to “pseudo-democratic governance” (Friedman and Andrews, 2010: 181).

Mega-event-based “athletic urbanism” (Carter, 2011: 131–139) can certainly be viewed through the prism of post-political approaches. For host cities, world-scale tournaments are opportunities to find their niches in global markets of tourism, leisure and entertainment. Sports events’ organizers tune their marketing strategies to global demands of urban development largely shaped by competition between localities, including comparative ratings, ² emulation of cultural and branding strategies, etc. This is why for host cities mega-events are communicative performances, grounded in repertoires of signs, symbols, messages and texts that promote what might be dubbed “commercial identities” through placing local narratives in particular contexts (Kraft and Brummett, 2009: 18), mostly shaped by the mass media and corporate business, and meant for branding, marketing and consumption. These identities are not necessarily results of social interactions and experience sharing between the collective Self and a variety of Others, but rather effects of commercial strategies designed by policy consultants and public relations (PR) specialists.

In Russia, territorial branding has become one of the focal points for students of cultural geography (Zamiatin, 2013) and marketing practitioners. ³ It is important to note that those commercial identities pop up at the meeting points of two generically similar post-political discourses that unfold, respectively, at the global and the local levels to be analysed below. Globally, major international sports organizations function as commercial entities working, by and large, for the blossoming world of mass media, commercial branding, entertainment and advertisement markets. Usually they are sceptical about political articulations beyond the domain of their normative universality grounded, by and large, in the philosophy of modern Olympism. Their operational regime seems harmonious to the equally post-political (i.e. pragmatic, business-oriented and producing social consensus rather than diversity) logic of national and sub-national elites who eagerly get involved in global sports events all across Russia. Therefore, in global sports, the external environment is bereft of strong impulses supportive of democratic participation and deliberation, which in most cases remain a series of vernacular social practices effectuated as acts of resistance. Global post-political sports structures are more concerned with providing security (through systems of surveillance and control) and developing enjoyment industry (Dean, 2008: 117) than with responding to political demands of local communities, which are usually portrayed as too parochial, particular and devoid of a universal appeal (O’Bonsawin, 2010: 143–156).

The post-political machinery of sports governance in Russia has found its legal framing in two presidential decrees on the organization of Olympic and Paralympic Games (adopted in 2007) and the Football World Cup and the Confederations Cup (adopted in 2013). These acts are perfect illustrations of the interwoven interests of global sports institutions (International Olympic Committee and FIFA), the Russian federal government and local authorities, based on the predominance of a business logic and security considerations. Thus, a 2013 decree recognizes FIFA as the sole organizer of the World Football Cup, while granting to the Organizing Committee “Russia – 2018” a status of its contractor that operates in accordance with FIFA requirements. The Organizing Committee reports to FIFA on the whole spectrum of preparatory issues, including transportation infrastructure, security provisions, the state of medical facilities, the tempo of construction works and financial matters. Neither FIFA nor its subcontractors pay taxes or make transfers to insurance funds – as all other businesses would do – while operating in Russia. For the sake of the championship the Russian President granted to FIFA’s contractors the right to set a 24-hour working day, and exempted all foreign employees of the mega-event from the normal procedures of obtaining work permits, applying for residence permit and complying with regular currency control measures. FIFA has a monopoly on all trade activity within a 2-kilometre area radius around stadiums during the matches. As for the Russian government, it reserves the right to introduce a special security regime during the games, including movement restrictions in a controlled area (applicable to individuals, vehicles, ships and air jets), as well as restrictions on alcohol consumption. Moreover, the state cancels the otherwise necessary procedures of convening public hearings at the implementation of rezoning projects in urban areas, and providing plans for territorial restructuring otherwise – again – requested in accordance with the Urban Planning Code. During the championship, certification of radio frequencies can be discontinued, and prices for using them can be changed. Confiscation of land property belonging to physical or legal persons with subsequent reimbursement of its value becomes possible and in fact widespread. Wood cutting is allowed without the restrictions stipulated in the Forest Code. The state will also take under its control the pricing policies of all hotels in host cities (O podgotovke i provedenii …, 2013).

This only confirms the experiences of many cities across the globe where decision-making processes at the times of mega-events were “often non-democratic and lacking in transparency, whilst crucially they tend to be in the interests of global flows rather than local communities” (Miles, 2010: 128). Mega-events prompt shifts of public funds to be used for private interests; “the end result is a global form of consumption in which the unified principles of peace, youth and diversity are usurped by the needs of a media-driven conception of global consumption” (Miles, 2010: 140). “Distributional inequalities” and “discriminatory geographies” (Soja, 2010: 47) are among other negative effects of mega-events. Therefore

…the contemporary urban condition is marked by a post-political police order of managing the spatial distribution and circulation of things and people within a consensually agreed neo-liberal arrangement… The polis as a “political” space is retreating, while social space is increasingly colonised or sutured by consensual neo-liberal techno-managerial policies. (Swyngedouw, 2011: 23)

As an effect, the sphere of “official politics” “appears as a theatrical stage rather than as a battlefield” (Citton, 2009: 130), with articulations of urban or regional identities resembling acts of “performing and playing, … building a stage and sustaining a spectacle” (Hallward, 2009: 143). A good illustration of this was a symbolic competition between 13 Russian cities for 11 slots at the FIFA World Football Cup. Contenders had competed with each other in designing and promoting strategies for urban development and branding, which opened up a space for identity discourses to pop up, most of them having almost no connotations with sports as such. Kaliningrad, for example, touted the World Cup as an additional chance for cementing its reputation as the most Europeanized region of Russia (Makarychev and Yatsyk, 2014). Saransk, with its underdeveloped sports infrastructure, justified its bid for hosting the FIFA World Cup games by the celebrations of the millennium anniversary of Mari people’s association with Russia ⁴ – an ideologically important event that was used for extracting additional funds from the federal budget for urban development. Yaroslavl’ has been promoting itself as the self-proclaimed “heart of Russia”, ⁵ although, of course, many other cities could have been branding themselves with this metaphor.

By the same token, in Russia the post-political mode of governance is paralleled by isolationist practices (as exemplified, for instance, by the bill introduced by the Federation Council member Sergey Lisovsky (Aleshkovskaya, 2013) and aimed at forbidding contracts with foreign companies at mega-events) and archaic managerial culture of the Russian authorities criticized by some Russian athletes (Salakhov, 2013). The post-political model of governance in Russia is very state-centric, with the Kremlin as the key decision-maker who applies to the organization of mega-projects criteria different from those dictated by economic rationales. This explains the widely discussed lack in both transparency and effectiveness, which makes post-political governance vulnerable since it is perceived as corruptive, profligate, elite-driven and lacking in due rationality (Bolshaya stroyka: komu nuzhny stadiony na ChM-2018, 2012). This is best illustrated by the coverage of the Sochi Olympics in Russian and international media and social networks, with the criticism of the gross mismanagement of the Olympic project being extended to the forthcoming World Football Cup (Chempionat mira po futbolu oboydiotsa dorozhe, chem Olimpiada v Sochi, 2013). Exactly as was the case for the Sochi Olympics and the Universiade 2013 in Kazan’, Greenpeace started expressing its concerns about potential damages to the environment in a number of Russian cities (especially Kazan’, Samara and Volgograd) preparing to host the FIFA Cup, defenders of animals’ rights started lambasting the cruel practices of exterminating stray dogs, and so forth (GreenPeace Rossii, 2013; Nadezhkina, 2013).

These vulnerabilities demonstrate why the post-political momentum is far from stable, and is frequently challenged by demands from those social groups that do not fit into the post-political consensus and develop their own alternative discourses (Uitermark et al., 2012). Post-political approaches to mega-events do leave some space for political articulations, although these sprouts of politicization take different forms, and their practical influence should not be exaggerated. By political articulation we mean contestation of already-made, pre-given administrative models and organizational practices imposed upon urban communities by means of a combination of global and local discourses and institutional measures. Political discourses are subversive and conflictual, and they ultimately transform or disturb the existing structures of power relations (Chambers and Carver, 2008: 9). Based on the examples of Kazan’ and Nizhny Novgorod, we shall identify these “islands of political articulation” as effects of those social groups that feel themselves as victims of post-political machinery of governance (as the case of Kazan’ illustrates), and broadening public debates on urban policies (as is the case in Nizhny Novgorod). A lack of experience in debating the issues of public interest and public good makes the idea of public space, as opposed to individual/private spaces and locus of power, still underdeveloped in many Russian urban centres. This enhances conflictuality and complicates communication between authorities and civil activists.

Nizhny Novgorod: global football and local identities

Nizhny Novgorod is the administrative centre of the Volga Federal District, and is ranked fifth in Russia in terms of population. The city is located about 450 kilometres east of Moscow, and is well connected to the capital. For decades of the Soviet rule it was a “closed city” (i.e. banned for foreigners due to its defence industry), but the deficit of international connections was rather swiftly overcome by a policy of openness to the world pursued by the first liberal governor of the region, Boris Nemtsov. City and regional authorities have started to make their first steps for plugging into the international milieu of city brands. A good example of this is the licensing of Nizhny Novgorod as “the Volga capital”.

In its 2018 branding campaign Nizhny Novgorod tries to promote itself as a city with “the mysterious Russian soul”, on the one hand, and an industrial hub with “cutting-edge technology” on the other (Zakharova and Radnaev, 2012). Yet Nizhny Novgorod is still in many respects perceived by most local and international experts as a provincial city with relatively weak urban infrastructure and civil society. It is evidently a newcomer in the mega-events industry: for example, not a single proposal for a city brand listed in a study of 2012 contained any allusion to international sports (Iudin, 2012). An interviewee remarked:

Is there really an international brand of Nizhny Novgorod? If I talk to people, nobody knows where it is located; they either think that it is far away in Siberia, or it is Veliki Novgorod [one of the oldest Russian cities and UNESCO World Heritage].

(A German expert with an experience of studying in Nizhny Novgorod and currently working in a Berlin-based think tank)

There is a variety of ways in which the preparation for the event enacts consensual effects. From the administrative viewpoint, the regional authorities of Nizhny Novgorod advertise the FIFA World Cup as a trigger for modernizing the city, including upgrading the quality of public transportation and the gas supply system, greater accessibility of sports infrastructure, urban renovation and diversification of services (restaurants, hotels, etc.). In particular, the preparation for FIFA World Cup has changed the concept of reconstructing Strelka, a conveniently located city district that from a potential business centre compound evolved into a new “public space for recreation and communication” (Anisimov, 2013).

“You don’t want to keep all intact as half-a-century ago, do you? You don’t want hens to wander in the city center and children to go to wooden schools?”, pathetically responded to his critics Alexander Kosovskikh, deputy chairman of the committee on urban planning and housing in the regional legislature (Litvinova, 2013).

By the same token, city authorities are eager to strengthen the performative elements of the FIFA event as a means to involve in its aura broader social groups. The public announcement of the inclusion of Nizhny Novgorod in the list of host cities approved by FIFA turned into a mass celebration staged at the central square and accompanied by a musical show. Governor Shantsev’s multiple reiterations of the “we-feeling” (“We have already won the bidding process”, “We are the champions”, etc.) unveiled the key discursive component of the mega-event-based populist strategy of consensus-making. Fan Festival is another project patronized by city and regional authorities and aimed at engaging the citizenry into the collective celebration of football shows.

In the meantime, the prospects for hosting several games of the world’s best football teams fuelled lively discussions among local experts and social activists, mostly in the format of online forums and specialized internet portals where their opinions were as free and unrestricted as possible. These debates revolved around two core issues – the state of administrative management and the image-making potential of the city. Both evoked ostensibly politicizing effects in a variety of local discourses.

The core target of public interest between 2010 and 2013 was the new stadium’s location and the concomitant engineering and transportation facilities. On the one hand, discussions on this issue unveiled substantial disagreements within local elites, and elucidated their unpreparedness for hosting events of such a scope. Initially, the governor Valery Shantsev announced that the stadium should be constructed at the river shore – in the “Grebnoi kanal” (Rowing Canal) area, which seemed quite logical in terms of the availability of sufficient land resources (Stadion dlia provedemia matchei chempionata mira po futbolu v. 2018 godu budet postroen na Grebnom kanale, 2010). However, then the second option was aired, radically different from the first one – to erect the stadium outside the city, in the village of Ol’gino, which would necessitate huge investments in transportation infrastructure. A number of other options were simultaneously discussed, including the construction of the stadium in a Soviet-style industrial district of the Komsomol’skaya square. Finally it was decided that the stadium had to be constructed in close vicinity with the junction of two rivers, Volga and Oka, in an area known as Strelka (Arrow).

Explaining this procrastination and ambiguity with the new stadium location, another expert noted:

The lack of organizational experience prompts the launching of traditional approaches to mega-events as a source for quick personal gains. This attitude is grounded in a bourgeois mentality of the ruling class.

(A Nizhny Novgorod-based expert in policy analysis)

On the other hand, the debate on this seemingly technical matter unveiled serious tensions between the local (municipal and regional) authorities and a significant part of policy experts, journalists and civic activists. The key argument of the critics is that the new construction plans will ultimately divert resources from the current, much needed, transportation projects of the underground metro construction in order to concentrate financial resources on upgrading those construction works directly linked to the championship (Ivanov, 2013). These critical voices are enhanced by media stories about the low quality of the regular construction for “ordinary” citizens by companies that are said to be taking major profits from the World Cup-related construction projects (Nikiforov, 2012).

The growing scepticism among local residents can be identified, in particular, by comments to governor Shantsev’s blog posts dealing with the FIFA World Cup in Nizhny Novgorod. In December 2010 his celebratory remarks in the aftermath of Russia’s success in the competition for the World Cup were followed by (only) nine comments, all explicitly positive and optimistic about Nizhny Novgorod’s prospects of co-hosting the games. In June 2012, after FIFA’s delegation inspected the city before announcing the final list of event co-hosts of the Football World Cup, Shantsev’s post was commented by 85 users. This time about 43% of all comments were positive and about 30% negative (with another 27% more or less neutral). In July 2013 when the federal government secured central funding for upgrading infrastructural objects in Nizhny Novgorod in accordance with FIFA regulations, the correlation had drastically changed: only 18% of the comments were supportive of the championship, while 61% were critical of it (Shantsev, 2010–2013), with the total number of users amounting to 115. What we see in this elementary statistics is that the rising interest in the topic is accompanied by the growing disappointment with the project implementation. However, neither of the concerns addressed to the governor online received a response, which is evidence of a communication gap between the power holders and their critics.

These debates revealed that the managerial approaches practised by the regional authorities may be perceived as short of due effectiveness. Critics claim that the regional administration so far lacks a long-term vision and world-class managers to properly implement global projects. As in all cities hosting mega-events, questions arise about the huge maintenance costs of sports infrastructure after the games, as well as about possibly low hotel occupancy in the aftermath of the event. Besides, the issue of rampant corruption immediately comes to the fore as soon as it comes to the question of who is going to take material advantage of the World Cup. Mega-projects are widely believed to fuel mega-corruption, an argument that appears particularly acute against the background of regular financial scandals within FIFA. Local experts are certain that key decisions concerning infrastructural development of the city are taken behind the curtain in the interests of those business groups directly connected with local authorities. Some experts openly claim that it is the financial and economic interests of the city mayor, Oleg Sorokin, that are to be served first in designing and implementing city reconstruction (Buzmakova, 2012). Against this background, the frequent paternalistic characterization of the World Cup as a “gift” to the city by some local officials appears to be an inappropriate metaphor concealing the huge costs of the whole event and the mostly informal lobbying for federal funds.

Concerns about the financial consequences of the football mega-event are sustained by professional economists. Thus, a report issued by Standard & Poor’s in April 2013 predicts that the credit positions of many Russian hosts of the FIFA 2018 tournament could decrease, since neither the cities or regions would be able to fully carry out their financial commitments due to the highly centralized budgetary system in Russia, nor would the federal centre be capable of maintaining the lavish financing of all infrastructural upgrades in a dozen cities (Vartapetov, 2013). Financial predictions of the slowdown of the Russian economy in the coming years (Smorschkov, 2013) only exacerbates these concerns.

The sceptical views among local experts and policy commentators point to two other important issues. They elucidated a politically sensitive rupture between “elite sports” and “people’s sports”. This polarization reflects the dominant critical attitudes in Russia towards the ruling regime’s social commitments, as opposed to their material interests. Hosting a world-class mega-event incurs huge expenses, including from regional and municipal budgets, which expectably decreases funding for social and economic projects. To attract private investors, city and regional authorities have offered them tax and other benefits, which may also weaken the capacity of the public authorities to fulfil their social obligations.

Then, by associating the ruling elite with “harsh and cruel construction technologies”, critics pinpointed one more social antagonism – between “the rulers” (“fat cats”), insensitive to demands for preserving the historical architecture of Nizhny Novgorod, and those civic groups that militate against what they dub “the demolition of the historical spirit” of the city. In their view, the city’s century-long historical heritage can be hurt by the pre-championship construction projects.

It is worth noting that some of these discourses contain strong political potential. In particular, the Nizhny Novgorod administration’s proposal to locate the fan zone in the historical heart of the city (the Minin square where the local Kremlin is situated) was severely criticized by defenders of local history monuments and pro-democracy activists (“The city center was blocked for anti-Putin protestors only to accommodate football fans”, a local expert noted with ironic regret). Such allegations sometimes are transformed in an irreconcilable opposition between “the outsiders” (key decisions are taken in the Kremlin) and “the locals” who remain loyal to Nizhny Novgorod’s authenticity that might be endangered by the World Cup construction. The same type of binary thinking is noticeable in other cities to host mega-events – in particular, in Sochi (Lazareff, 2011).

Negative references to Moscow seem to play a key role in shaping a type of discourse sceptical of branding Nizhny Novgorod within the Kremlin-dominated narrative of Russia. Some opponents of the Putin regime argue that mega-projects such as the World Football Cup only contribute to the Kremlin’s strategy of internationally legitimizing the current regime. According to this logic, by signing up to co-host the championship, Nizhny Novgorod reinforces its secondary and even submissive status vis-à-vis Moscow.

This logic was also noticeable in interviews, when interviewees were asked about the potential benefits from the event for the city:

The city hopes to get new infrastructure, but it has no plans to change the existing system of project management and urban planning. These will remain centralized as they were in the past and will not include much citizen input. I imagine that most decisions will be made in Moscow, not in Nizhny. Such a centralized decision-making will likely result in the usual corruption and public protests, but the system itself will remain unchanged.

(An international expert with a record of cooperation with Nizhny Novgorod Universities)

The Orthodox Church – one of the key sources of symbolic support of the ruling elite – is also part of the political debate. The construction of the new stadium in close vicinity to the recently reconstructed Alexander Nevsky Cathedral, a major Orthodox shrine of the city, touched upon religious feelings of a part of city dwellers. Their claims for a “special” status of the religious compound only underpin the social distance that the Orthodox Church itself intentionally constructs in its relationship with non-religious groups within society. In this respect one may claim that the pre-World Cup discussions unveiled a symbolic competition between two sacred (although evidently in dissimilar ways) places – the Church and the stadium.

It is against this complicated background that interviewees remained critical about the possibility of revamping the city brand:

Q.: Are there any grounds to expect a new brand for Nizhny Novgorod to develop?

A. I don’t think so. I assume that a mixture of different images will be used for repositioning the city – “Russia’s pocket”, “a region open to investments”, “a hotbed of Russia’s Home Guard”, etc.

(A Nizhny Novgorod-based policy expert)

It is the experience of authenticity that is in huge demand in the worldwide tourist market (Urry and Larsen, 2011: 11), yet the languages of self-description and self-promotion in Nizhny Novgorod seem to be too much inward-oriented, retrospective, static, parochial and over-ideologized. Most of Nizhny Novgorod’s role identities are largely inappropriate for international branding and can hardly be convertible on the global scale. For example, commemorating Nizhny Novgorod as a home to local heroes Kuzma Minin and Dmitry Pozharsky, who four centuries ago fought the Polish army, contains implicit anti-European allusions. Such tropes as “a hotbed of spiritual unification” (Editorial, 2012) sound quite patriotic domestically, but fail to work as international attractors. The names of protagonists of local history tell something only to very few, even in the post-Soviet generations of city residents, and remain even more obscure for the world. It is quite symptomatic that most foreign experts interviewed by one of the authors pinpointed the importance for Western audience of such desirable elements of the Nizhny Novgorod brand as tolerance, cultural diversity, openness to migrants and liberal heritage (for example, the name of the Noble Prize winner Andrey Sakharov, who spent several years in exile in Nizhny Novgorod, could be an international brand by itself).

Debates on brand authenticity seem to be an important component of placing Nizhny Novgorod in a global framework of post-political governance, driven by the logic of “selling new urban imageries” (Greenberg, 2008: 36). The case of Nizhny Novgorod seems to illustrate the critical theory-based approach to urban political communities as sources of competing representations that may clash with each other in search for a hegemonic position (Mattissek, 2008: 64–94). However, it is the collision of various cultural and historical narratives that prevents such a hegemony and, concomitantly, makes all attempts to contrive a singly city brand intrinsically contentious. Interviewees thus doubted that the forthcoming World Cup could be instrumental in rebranding Nizhny Novgorod:

Arguably, the World Cup will rather uncover systemic problems the city faces than be conducive to finding solutions for them. The eagerness to host mega-events in the city is a neo-Soviet megalomania aimed at bringing to the city grandiose projects instead of systematically upgrading the city management. It is old methods that dominate – tenders for those close to the government, lack of transparency in decisions, voluntarism, etc.

(A Moscow-based expert with professional experience in Nizhny Novgorod)

The case of Nizhny Novgorod also makes clear that there is some tension between the post-political practices of standardized urban management, on the one hand, and the much more diverse social and cultural landscapes within the city. In fact, branding strategies of city authorities are explicitly outward-oriented and meant to plug Nizhny Novgorod into the global institutions, procedures and practices, and are not conducive to enhancing internal diversity within the city. Moreover, branding strategies might be criticized or even rejected by socially active groups as either irrelevant or having little to do with the “real” problems of the city. That this was raised in the regional debates parallels with Brazil whose citizens, initially enthusiastic about hosting the World Cup in 2014, ultimately ended up with mass-scale protests against mismanagement and profligacy (Grichuk, 2013).

“U are the World”: a two-pronged brand of Kazan’

Unlike Nizhny Novgorod, Kazan’, located 800 kilometres from Moscow and the capital of the ethnic republic of Tatarstan, is a multi-confessional city. Its population of 1.2 million includes two main ethnic groups: Tatars (47.5%) and Russians (48.8%) (Official Tatarstan, 2012). Kazan’ is a city whose post-Soviet ambitions to develop recognized brands have become clearly articulated both discursively and in the practices of transforming urban spaces.

The first brand, mostly supported by Kazan’s former Mayor, Kamil’ Iskhakov (1989–2005), represented Kazan’ as the “Islamic capital of Russia” (Bolshakov, 2011) or, more globally, as an intermediary between the Muslim and Orthodox worlds. Iskhakov has successfully promoted Kazan’ in particular and Tatarstan in general all across the Muslim world (Bolshakov, 2011). For instance, since 2005 Kazan’ has hosted the International Festival of Muslim Films “Golden Minbar” (Zolotoi Minbar) and others events of ethnic character. The main symbol of Kazan’ – its Kremlin – has been reconstructed to embody a new post-Soviet image of Tatarstan’s “statehood”, as represented by the “biggest mosque in Europe”, Kul-Shariff. This new symbol, according to the 2011 polls conducted in Kazan’, trumped the old one – the historical building of Suumbika’s Tower (Izuchenie mneniya grazhdan …, 2011). In the meantime, it is exactly the Suumbika’s Tower, not Kul-Shariff mosque, that was presented at the Universiade 2013 opening ceremony as one of the most meaningful of Kazan’s sights, which embodies the Tatar culture.

The second brand of Kazan’ addresses sports and was promoted by the former President Mintimer Shaimiyev and his team. In fact, during the past 15 years, Kazan’s clubs in different sports were very successful in Russian and European championships (Ak Bars in ice hockey, Rubin in football, UNICS in basketball, Ogsintez in handball, ZENIT in volleyball, Kamaz in rallies). Regional business groups invested in upgrading sport facilities (Basketball Hall, Tatneft’ Arena, etc.) to promote Kazan’ as a convenient place for sports competitions. Not incidentally, the first attempt of hosting the Universiade in Kazan’ goes back to 2006 – just after the city’s millennium celebration. Against this background, the decision to choose Kazan’ as the host city for the Universiade 2013, which was instrumentalized by federal and regional authorities as a rehearsal for the Olympic Games 2014 in Sochi (Ivanova, 2012), fits into a strategy of worldwide promotion of the city brand.

Large-scale sports events are often considered platforms to boost the global recognition of the host cities. This is of particular value to Russian cities, considering that since Russia’s independence the country never hosted an Olympic Games, a World Cup or the Universiade. However, according to a national public opinion poll conducted in 2011, the brand of the Universiade was scantly known across the country: only 39% of respondents knew in what year the Universiade would take place, and 44% were not acquainted with what the Universiade is (Navstrechu Universiade-2013, 2011). Among residents of Kazan’, according to another poll of 2011, only every 10th person thought that the Universiade 2013 is an important event for the city (Izuchenie mneniya grazhdan …, 2011: 13). As a result, the authorities of Kazan’ had to apply a combined strategy of preparing not only a mega-, but also a media-event (Roche, 2003: 99–126). Thus, the Organizing Committee of the Universiade 2013 signed a contract with CNN and the BBC to globally promote Kazan’ (Press-sluzhba Prezidenta RT, 2011). In 2012 the Committee was awarded the Effie Worldwide prize for its successful brand promotion as a “Sports Capital of Russia” (Lenta.ru, 2012). Later the same year, the President of Tatarstan, Rustem Minnikhanov, was nominated as the “Person of the International University Sports Federation” (Lenta.ru, 2012).

The branding strategies of Kazan’ have security implications. Thus, Kazan’s image as a place for peaceful co-existence of Russians and Tatars, Orthodox and Muslims was the key point of Kazan’s bidding promotion for hosting the Universiade 2013. At the same time, this brand appears quite vulnerable, especially in light of terrorist attacks against two main Muslim religious leaders of Tatarstan, muftis Ildus Faizov and Valiulla Yakupov (who was killed), in Kazan’ in July 2012. These events, as well as a set of arsons of Orthodox churches in Autumn 2013 in Tatarstan, prompted fears of religious extremism (Ivshina, 2012; Veselovskii, 2013), thus confirming similar predictions of international experts (Hahn, 2011: 13). Yet on the other hand, public opinion research among residents of Kazan’ conducted in 2011 demonstrated a rather high level of trust in security provision for the Universiade 2013. Thus, only 25% of respondents thought that the risk of terrorist attacks would increase, and 28% predicted that it was likely to remain stable (Provedenie issledovaniya …, 2011).

The branding of Kazan’ was meant to internationally “represent a new Russia” through the Universiade 2013 without a “shade of provinciality” (Krasutskaya, 2010). This strategy of promoting Kazan’ as a globally commodified and secured city, positively distinctive from many other post-Soviet transitional, dissonant and ethnically conflictual places, can be understood as a form of post-political branding. In light of this strategy, Islam as a component of Kazan’s brand retreated from its initial politically conflictual – in terms of relations with the federal centre – vector of the early 1990s and became more pragmatic, merging with concerns for city economics, competitiveness, consumerism and security. One of the examples of the post-political shift of Kazan’s Islamic brand is the renovation of the historical part of the city – the Old Tatar District (Staraya Tatarskaya Sloboda), which since the 1990s has been considered by Tatar-oriented intellectuals as a humiliating site of the history of Tatar people. Yet the numerous proposals for reconstruction of this place, addressed by local preservationist groups to Tatarstani and Kazan’s authorities, were “successfully” ignored (an activist for preservation of historical heritage, Kazan’). In 2012 the situation suddenly changed and the neighbourhood of the Old Tatar District was included in the list of the most important cultural objects to be renovated before the Universiade 2013. The main argument looked quite in tune with the post-political logic, since it explicitly pointed to the need for including ethnically peculiar places in city tourist routes (Katargin, 2012).

Indeed, the preparation for and hosting of sports mega-events such as the Universiade 2013 in Kazan’ obviously demonstrate the instrumental, managerial, consensus- and consumer-oriented logics of post-Soviet regional development. Due to the Universiade 2013, and its innovations such as new sports added to the lists of competitions (including the Tatar traditional wrestling, Kuresh), the Torch relay and the Cultural Universiade programme, Kazan’ not only strengthened its both brands – sports and Islam – but, in some sense, anchored them in symbolic Russian, and even global, narratives. As a site of developed sports infrastructure and as the informal “sports capital of Russia”, Kazan’ intends to host the World Aquatic Championship in 2015, the Football World Cup in 2018 and to bid for holding the Summer Olympics in 2024.

Our interviews show that the Universiade management is largely perceived as successful and thus conducive to boosting societal consensus – the construction work was completed in time, and there were no large-scale corruption scandals. Arguably, this alleged success is based on post-political practices of publicly explaining the measures of tightening security regulations – be it exterminating stray dogs (Galindabaeva, 2013), cleansing the city centre of private cars (Sladkov, 2013) or constructing the stadium in an environmentally protected area, mobilizing local teachers as labour force (V Tatarstane uchiteley posylaiut stroit’ stadion Universiady za schet urokov, 2013) – as motivated by populist references to the loosely defined “public good”. False promises to the protestors were also used to decelerate the level of policy contestation.

Yet the post-political logic of event organizers displaced much of the urban public from the festivities. A good example is the spatial division of the Sabantui ⁶ fest scenes into two separate areas – one for “the Universiade guests” and another for “ordinary people”. What stood behind the rhetoric of “people’s celebration” were mainly security concerns. As a result, many spectators were disappointed with their exclusion from the festivities, which is comparable with what Sergey Medvedev has dubbed “the syndrome of empty streets” with the reference to the practices of policing during the World Athletic Championship in Moscow in August 2013 (Medvedev, 2013).

In the meantime, this post-political modus operandi faced a few cases of civil protestation that contained political tones, albeit weakly articulated. One of them concerned ecological protests against the construction of a football stadium on the bank of the Kazanka river in 2009. The second one, much more vociferous, was provoked by residents’ resettlement in the course of building the Universiade village in 2006 and Grebnoy kanal, as one of its venues, in the city centre in 2009–2010.

A new football stadium with 45,000 seats was built as the venue for the opening and closing ceremonies of the Universiade, as well as the site for the Football World Cup 2018. In contrast to Nizhny Novgorod, the construction of the main stadium in Kazan’ was accompanied not only by active public debates, but also by fierce – although scant – civic protests voicing concerns about environmental impacts of the Universiade 2013. The initial blueprint for the Kazan’ stadium, as in Nizhny Novgorod, intended to locate it in an old industrial district, but this plan was ultimately discarded because of poor transportation links. A second variant collided with the interests of land owners and was not accepted either. Finally, the municipal authorities decided to build the stadium on the north bank of the Kazanka river, which seemed a no man’s place with its green swamps and wild growth (Shaimiev nashel mesto glavnomu stadionu Universiady-2013, 2009). The location for the stadium in Kazan’ was selected by the former President of Tatarstan Shaimiev who simply “pointed to the marsh, and nobody argued any longer” (interview with an activist and organizer of ecological protests in Kazan’).

As a result, the unique ecological system, including several rare species of plants and animals, was severely damaged. Both federal ecological authorities and international environmental organizations, such as Greenpeace, drew attention to the illegality of these activities, but neither lawsuits nor environmental protests involving civic activists’ efforts to stop the cutting of trees and the destruction of the river bank had any effect. The public hearings on “rezoning” urban territory and the building of the new stadium took place only after Kazanka’s bank had become a site for construction work. Both the local media and civil activists denounced the belated hearings as cynical and artificial (Chernobrovkina, 2009; Minvaleev, 2009).

Q: Did the authorities make public any criteria for choosing that particular stadium location?

A. No, no…They spoke, in general, that there would not be any construction at all.….at the public hearings….they said, seriously, that the sand was brought from the barge and that it is very beneficial, economically…just so… all knew that there would be a stadium, but the official position was that the decision had not been accepted…. it was such a lie, in general…we just have been sitting and raising the placards: “That’s a lie!”, “Stop deceiving”….It made the authorities furious …but it didn’t stop them.

(Activist and an organizer of civic protests in Kazan’)

Civil activists noted that similar irregularities at public hearings on urban planning are very widespread in Tatarstan. The role of the public was mostly performed by specially invited groups of municipal employees – teachers, junior officials – who were meant to approve decisions that had already been made. Moreover, according to the interviewee, the average time of the public testimony was only from 3 to 10 minutes, which is insufficient for seriously discussing such complex issues. The authorities also designated voting as an optional procedure, which was never enacted.

In a different case, the “rezoning” of territories surrounding Lake Kaban, caused by the construction of another object for the Universiade, the Grebnoy kanal, infringed on private interests of its residents, small-land owners from the settlements of Pervomaiskiy and Starye Gorki, and had an unexpected impact. Located right in the historical downtown at the waterfront area, this part of the city’s land is known as Kazan’s Shanghai (Dynnik, 2009). Three times in the past six years its inhabitants were threatened with eviction without compensation. Public hearings, which the authorities are supposed to convene in any case of rezoning, were largely staged, and the participation of residents was artificially restricted. In particular, the organizers of the hearings intentionally misinformed their potential participants about the timing and the location. Despite these bureaucratic tricks, 500 people came to the public hearing on the building of Grebnoy kanal in 2009. Ultimately, the officials had to promise to avoid evictions and to relocate the construction site (Arkatov, 2009).

These and other cases of contestation of urban spaces make clear that the city authorities prefer consensual public procedures where citizens’ participation is optional and well orchestrated. They also are prone to make false promises. For instance, in 2009 city officials, reacting to environmental protests, pledged not to damage the natural environment of the Kazanka bank within a 100-metre zone, yet only a few days later this zone was destroyed. In particular, our interviewees noted the unfortunate absence of written commitments and the reliance on verbal agreements between the local stakeholders. Related research on different urban strategies in Kazan’ concerning conflicts on architectural heritage (Yatsyk and Khodzhaeva, 2012), ecologic issues (Ermolaeva, 2014) and animal rights (Galindabaeva, 2013) unveils similar practices.

Arguably, the underdeveloped mechanisms of public consultation and information sharing facilitate the implementation of this post-political model favoured by the city authorities. According to polls in 2011, about 60% of respondents in Nizhny Novgorod and 53% in Kazan’ reported a poor awareness of urban transformations in their cities. In the meantime, 62% of respondents in Nizhny Novgorod and 47% in Kazan’ consider their right to influence urban planning as indispensable (Izuchenie mneniya grazhdan …, 2011: 331–332). In the absence of well-institutionalized channels for participation, autocratic decision-making, however, prevails.

Concluding remarks

In this paper we have shown that in preparation for hosting mega-events the two Russian cities of Nizhny Novgorod and Kazan’ have developed post-political strategies based on consensus, brand promotion and security. These strategies affected urban identities-in-the-making. Kazan’ seems to have stronger branding potential for representing Tatarstan on a global scene, not merely as a Russian city, but as an embodiment of the Tatar identity (or, in some sense, even Tatarstani limited “statehood”). This ethnically coloured brand has powerful border-crossing potential that seems quite visible so far in the semantics of the PR campaign aimed at promoting the city across the globe. Against this background, Nizhny Novgorod’s image is more blurred, since it lacks a capacity to represent something different from a still poorly articulated “Russian identity”, and builds its imagery on underpinning its (not only geographical, but also symbolic) closeness to Moscow. As we argued, derivatives from “Russian identity” are more liabilities than assets for regions’ attempts to globally (re)position themselves, considering the fact that such metaphors as “Moscow” or “the Kremlin” are overwhelmingly marked by negative connotations in the West, as illustrated by the mass-scale protests against anti-gay legislation that fuelled debates about politically boycotting the Winter Olympics of 2014 (see, for example, Kravtsova, 2013).

Yet post-political strategies, largely pursued by federal and sub-national governments, and sustained by global sports institutions, do not warrant a top-down consensus within Russia. Global events open some perspectives for Russia’s regions and their largest cities to develop their own narrative and symbols, and convey different messages to the international audience. It is the idea of Russia’s intrinsic diversity and plurality of its constituent cultures that in a long run can constrain the centralization momentum in the Kremlin policy and turn Russia into a federation of regions capable of developing their own political strategies and preferences.

What also stems from our analysis is that the hardest issue for both cities seems to be finding a balance between the largely post-political approaches practised by mega-event organizers and the different civil society groups that look to inscribe their voices and demands in transformations incurred by these events. Contestations of state-designed urban planning add an important public policy dimension to the communicative process that is not limited to administrative bodies, but includes local groups seeking to ask critical questions, raise new issues and point to the most problematic elements of official strategies.

Our research confirmed the fruitfulness of using the concept of post-political governance for urban studies, and contributed to the existing critical theory literature by expanding the geographic scope of this – still predominantly Western in its origins and analytical application – concept. What makes Russian cities and regions peculiar objects of study is the tight interlacing of post-political practices with the traditions of post-Soviet neo-patrimonialism. Arguably, clan-like sub-national governments, disregard for public opinion, closely intermingled interests of state and municipal bureaucracy with major business corporations – all these well-recorded elements of the Russian administrative system serve to compound the post-political momentum and, therefore, largely complicate civil activism.