Our Naked Army **

With great pomp and circumstance (and less than laudatory press coverage), it was announced in January that the Russian military would be getting new dress uniforms, designed by Valentin Yudashkin. A noted Russian military expert and editor of the newspaper Yezhenedelnaya Gazeta offered this take.

It has long been noted that an army’s uniform curiously reflects a country’s reigning ideology. Take Hugo Boss' infernal SS uniforms (which Russian designers tried to reintroduce rather unsuccessfully for the FSB), or how a US Army General’s uniform differs little from those of enlisted men – except in what is on the shoulders and collars. Or the fact that all US military men get the same set of uniforms (dress, everyday, and combat), no matter the rank.

The opulence of golden embroidery, karakul, braiding and aglets on the new Russian uniforms symbolizes the current government's attitude toward the army. If the Kremlin needs the army for one thing, it's for propaganda, for showing that "Russia is getting up off its knees." So glitter and glitz are quite useful. Just like calling strategic bomber flight training "combat duty" and saying that four military ships in the Atlantic "obliterates the US Sixth Fleet’s monopoly in the Mediterranean." Braids and aglets fit in quite nicely.

At the same time, with the introduction of the new uniforms comes a truly historical move: doing away with jackboots (sapogi) and footcloths (portyanki). It signals an end of an era. For decades our military leaders have asserted that footcloths and jackboots are a soldier's best friends – unlike the evil, American lace-up boots that don't "breathe." In reality, this is how they justified our poverty – the only state in keeping with the soul of the Russian soldier.

From this point of view, the decision to switch to socks and boots is revolutionary, but only if it won't be limited to the usual razzle-dazzle of other so-called national projects. In reality, socks come in sizes, and you have to change them daily, unlike portyanki that can be wrapped either way out. American or British soldiers solve this problem by simply dropping dirty socks into the laundry bin and getting a fresh pair in the morning. So, at the very least, Russian barracks need to get washing machines. Yet, since no one bothered to mention this simple upgrade, we can conclude that the highly publicized sock-ification of the army is just an expensive PR move.

As I was watching the president's review of a strangely-clothed live mannequin on TV, I recalled a conversation I had with Defense Minister Igor Sergeyev in the late 1990s. At a time when officers weren’t getting paid for months at a stretch, he admitted that the decision to only issue everyday uniforms to lieutenants graduating from military schools was one taken out of poverty. "Other officers will have to wear their combat uniforms,” Sergeyev said, “but that way we'll still be able to order the "Topol-M" [missile]." Uniforms were the price we paid for up-to-date technology during years of hunger.

Since 1999, our military budget has increased eight-fold. We have so much money that we spend 100 million rubles on strange attire with aglets. Yet we are still having a hard time with technology. A few days before the triumphant uniform demonstration, First Vice-Premier Sergei Ivanov stated that the highly publicized GLONASS program, proclaimed as a competitor to the American GPS system, was not ready. Only recently, Ivanov promised to equip Putin's beloved labrador Koni with a GLONASS transmitter. But now it turns out that the Russian system is not sufficiently precise, does not cover the entire country, and can't be mass-produced, all despite the billions budgeted on it.

Practically all our defense programs have fallen short in the same manner. But our braiding is top notch.