Every country has an origin story but nonehas ‘changed it so often’ as Russia, according to Orlando Figes. The subject is inseparable from myth. In this impressive anddeeply immersive book, the author sets outto reveal Russia’s history, its people’s perception of their past and the manifold waysin which those in power manipulate bothevents and legend to shape the present. It isa saga of multi-millennial identity politics.

A bestselling historian with a storiedbackground himself, Figes arranges hismaterial chronologically over ten chapters,beginning with the medieval chronicles ofKievan Rus. Those sources launched mythsthat became fundamental to the Russianunderstanding of nationhood. He then proceeds to scrutinise the Mongol influence,following the 13th-century ‘invasion’ – actually a gradual migration of nomadic tribes.Russian historians like to deny the Mongollegacy, but Figes argues convincingly that‘in fact its impact was immense’.

In these early sections he draws onethnogenesis and ethno-archaeology, revealing the baleful ways in which even thosefields became politicised. He then ushers inIvan IV, the Terrible (grozny), the first tsarto take on the ‘manufactured aura of ancientlineage and imperial status’. Through thetimes of trouble (smutnoe vremia) followingIvan’s rule, the imposition of serfdom in the16th century and through much else, Figesweaves his themes. They include the role of geography, notably the problem of controlling such a vast territory (in the 17th centuryit took two years to get a message from thecapital to Okhotsk) and the fact that the Urals‘aren’t a real barrier between Europe andAsia’, though they are regularly touted to be.

Peter the Great reformed much, includingtime itself (he adopted the western BC-ADsystem). Figes shows that after the Petrinestate militarised society ‘a pattern soonemerged in the history of the armed forces– namely Russia’s dependence on quantitybecause it lagged behind in quality’. He iskeen on patterns, and by the end of the bookso was I. Patterns foster understanding.Meanwhile, the reforming Peter dug a deep ‘cultural rift’ between urban elites and ruralpeasants, which turned into ‘the fault linealong which the revolution would be fought’.

The nature of state power is another theme.Figes likes big statements, and his evidenceand the way he builds arguments to backthem up are convincing: ‘The persistence ofautocracy in Russia is explained less by thestate’s strength than by the weakness of society.’ The Empress Catherine ‘paid lip serviceto the idea of liberty but did not believe thateverybody should have it’. She was wild forthe Enlightenment until the outbreak of theFrench Revolution, after which she bannedVoltaire’s works in a panic. Figes tracesways in which the Russian path divergedfrom western trajectories – for example,an abstract state developed in the West asa counterbalance to the monarch, but in Russia the tsar and state were one.

His method is to synthesise sources, mostly secondary ones. The book’s outstandingfeature is its brevity, and I mean this as praise:the general reader will always prefer 300-oddpages to 800. (Publishers say general readers don’t exist, but I know they do becauseI’m one.) Academics may snipe at The Storyof Russia for its broadbrush summarisingwithout noting that their own books are neither read nor sold. And everyone knows it isharder to write a short book than a long one.

Ukraine is seldom absent from the tightly structured narrative. In 882, Ruswarriors captured Kiev and the Khazar tribute-paying lands between the Volga and the Dnieper. Kiev became the capital of Kievan Rus.We are shown how both Ukraine and Russia have deployed the history they share‘to reimagine narratives of national identity they could use for their own nationalistpurposes’. In fact the idea that Kievan Ruswas the birthplace of either modern stateis ‘absurd’.

The 1861 emancipation decree fell wellshort of utopian hopes, even though civilsociety was beginning to organise and represent itself through self-made institutions; andwhen a bomb blew Tsar Alexander II to bits20 years later, Figes says, ‘it is hard to thinkof a more momentous turning point in Russian history’. Three centuries of Romanovsculminated in the weak (at best) Nicholas II,whom George V refused to shelter in Britain.

The Eastern Orthodox Church has stoodcentre stage in this whole Greek tragedy eversince 988, when Vladimir the Great converted and brought Russia into the cultural orbitof Byzantium. In a hotly contested field, nopatriarch beats the present incumbent forsheer un-Christian horror. Ask any Russianabout the reflection of the Breguet watchon the desk (a story not cited here). Kirill isa fan of the Ukraine war – of course he is.

Figes’s book Natasha’s Dance, publishedin 2002 and to my mind his best, is the perfect accompaniment to his latest work. In thatearlier volume – a thematic cultural interpretation – he asks whether unseen threads ofa native sensibility hold the nation together.The Story of Russia draws lightly on culture,but I especially enjoyed its forays into filmas myth-manipulating propaganda. Vsevo-lod Pudovkin’s 1939 Minin and Pozharskyretooled the events of 1612 to portray contemporary Poles as aggressors. The previous year, Sergei Eisenstein’s AlexanderNevsky had trumpeted a patriotic messageof national unity against foreign invasion;but Stalin withdrew the film when Molotovand Ribbentrop signed the non-aggressionpact, trundling it out again when Germanyreturned to enemy ranks.

Figes asks what the combatants thenunderstood by ‘motherland’. Post-war Politburo saurians stoked nationalism, as malelife expectancy dropped to the age of 62 (thatwas in 1980). In seven pages devoted to theGorbachev era, we see the present state moving towards us like a slow-motion film. Afterthat, ‘the vacuum created by the Soviet collapse was being filled with debris from everyperiod of Russian history’.

Figes roots Russia’s resentment of theWest in the victory over the Mongols atKulikovo in 1380. According to the myth-makers, that was the moment of national awakening. The event is certainly nowlinked in the public imagination with othermilitary sacrifices in which Russia apparently saved the western world – notably from Napoleon in 1812-5 and, of course,from the Nazis. Vladimir Putin, a keen student of history, repurposes every chapter inhis country’s story to justify his policies,ensuring that school textbooks parrot his fabrications. ‘Putin’s version of people’s history’, writes Figes, ‘enabled them to feelgood as Russians again.’ I have observedthis playing out across 11 times zones.I once sat on a sofa in a homestay in Chukotka in the Russian Far East as images ofPutin flickered in the corner and heard myhost, a widow, say: ‘A monster, yes – but ourmonster’.

Figes speaks on every page in the crisp,sober manner of a newsreader, while observing the action unfold with an eagle’s eye.This is history not so much of longue duréeas haute altitude. In the final chapter hegives his own interpretation of the currentwar. Russia-watchers will fall on it, but itwill be a small tragedy if they don’t read thepreceding chapters first.