However, the sudden eclipse of Russia’s eternal imperial drive cannot be explained
exclusively by “selfishness.” Trenin gives a second reason, which is the growing
xenophobia
in the Russian population. Although xenophobia may be an ugly, anti-humanist attitude,
in Russia’s case, it would have some positive effects. “What the rise in xenophobia,
the upsurge of chauvinism, and the spread of anti-government violence also tell,”
writes the author, “is that there is no appetite whatsoever for a new edition of empire,
only residual nostalgia for the old days.”
[6]
Like Bernard Mandeville, who in his
Fable of the Bees
explained how public benefits could emerge from private vices, Dmitri Trenin explains
how in contemporary Russia private vices, such as xenophobia and egoism, result in
a public benefit: the lack of appetite in the Russian population for the restoration
of the lost empire.
However, the problem with Trenin’s analysis is not only that it is too simple, but
also that it contradicts the facts. One of these facts is that during Putin’s reign
the phase of “empire fatigue” has definitively come to an end. Under the guise of
the “Eurasian Customs Union,” “Eurasian Economic Union,” and—most recently—“Eurasian
Union,” new efforts of empire building have begun. As concerns xenophobia, presented
by Trenin as an effective antidote against empire building, history shows that xenophobia,
far from eliminating an imperialist drive, it often accompanies it. One does not have
to go back to the 1930s to find extremely xenophobic regimes that at the same time
were expansionist and imperialist. A good example of this combination in contemporary
Russia is the leader of the Liberal-Democratic Party in the Duma, Vladimir Zhirinovsky,
who, in his book
Poslednyy brosok na yug
(Last Push to the South), likens immigrants to Russia from the Caucasus or Central
Asia to “cockroaches” (
tarakany
) who should be expelled from the European center of Russia.
[7]
This does not prevent Zhirinovsky from pleading for a reconquest of both the Soviet
and tsarist empires (the latter included parts of contemporary Poland and Finland).
Zhirinovsky even claims Turkey, Iran, and Afghanistan as exclusive spheres of influence,
not excluding that “Russia gets a frontier with India.”
[8]
Trenin’s argument that the widespread xenophobia in Russia will prevent Russia
from becoming imperialist is therefore not valid. In fact the contrary is true: ultranationalism
and imperial chauvinism are often most developed in xenophobic and racist countries.
Ironically, Trenin mentions in his book a number of facts that undermine his own theory
of Russia as a post-imperium. These facts are rather disconcerting. When Trenin mentions
how Putin called the demise of the Soviet Union “the greatest geopolitical catastrophe
of the twentieth century,” he writes that “Putin’s words were interpreted as evidence
of an active Kremlin nostalgia for the recently lost empire, and even as a sign of
his intention to bring back the USSR. This was a misinterpretation.”
[9]
Trenin is certainly right that Putin did not want to bring back the USSR—because,
as he rightly stresses, Putin “blamed the non-performing communist system for losing
the Soviet Union.” But a Russian empire does not have to be a
communist
empire, as the tsarist experience proves. Trenin also mentions Putin’s remark at the
Bucharest NATO summit in April 2008 that Ukraine “was not even a state” and “would
break apart.” This was, according to Trenin, neither an expression of Russian imperial
arrogance and contempt, nor a barely disguised threat. Putin, he wrote, “was probably
highlighting the brittleness of Ukraine’s unity, which would not survive a serious
test.”
[10]
But if Putin was completely free of any annexationist fervor, why, in 2003, did he
propose that Belarus return to Russia and join the Russian Federation as six oblasts
(provinces), a proposition that was refused by Belarus? As long ago as 1993, the Supreme
Soviet laid claim to the Ukrainian port of Sevastopol.
[11]
However, if Putin’s objectives are so radically different, why would his government
distribute Russian passports in the Crimea and in Eastern Ukraine, knowing that the
Ukrainian Constitution strictly forbade dual nationality? And why was this distribution
of Russian passports accompanied in August 2008 by Medvedev’s introduction of “five
foreign policy principles,” which included the right for the Kremlin to protect Russians
“wherever they are” and intervene on their behalf? These principles were applied in
the case of Georgia, which was invaded in August 2008. And why, after the Orange Revolution,
did Russian politicians speak out in favor of the “federalization” of Ukraine?
[12]
As Trenin himself writes, this proposal was interpreted by Ukrainian politicians
as “paving the way to its breakup and the absorption of its eastern and southern regions
by Russia.” And why, in 2003, did Putin equally propose the federalization of Moldova?
[13]
Was it not because it would make a breakup of that state easier and bring the breakaway
province of Transnistria definitively back within Moscow’s sphere of influence? Trenin
also mentions that after the Ukrainian bid for a route into NATO, “some not entirely
academic quarters in Moscow played with the idea of a major geopolitical redesign
of the northern Black Sea area, under which southern Ukraine, from the Crimea to Odessa,
would secede from Kiev and form a Moscow-friendly buffer state, ‘Novorossiya’—New
Russia. As part of that grand scheme, tiny Transnistria would either be affiliated
with that state or absorbed by it. The rest of Moldova could then be annexed by Romania.”
[14]
These sentences need to be read very carefully: for “some not entirely academic
quarters in Moscow,” one could read: the Kremlin or Kremlin-related politicians. For
“played with the idea of a major geopolitical redesign,” one could read: military
intervention in order to break up Ukraine, an internationally recognized sovereign
state (also recognized by Russia). Moreover, the creation of a Russia-friendly “buffer
state” has traditionally, in Russian politics, led to that state becoming part of
Russia. One could be tempted to see some historical parallels. But, of course, you
need not. Because Trenin is reassuring us: Putin’s Russia has no plans to reconquer
its lost empire. Russia is a
post-
empire and intends to remain so.
The thesis of this book is that the Russian Federation is
both
a post-imperial state and a pre-imperial state. The aim of this book is to analyze
Putin’s wars in Chechnya and Georgia and to put them in a broader context in order
to better understand the inner dynamic of Putin’s system. The key idea of the book
is that in Russian history there has always existed a negative relationship between
empire building and territorial expansion on the one hand and internal democratization
on the other. Reform periods in Russia (after 1855, 1905, and 1989) are often the
result of lost wars and/or the weakening of the empire. Periods of imperial expansion,
on the contrary, tended to have a negative impact on internal reform and democratization.
Gorbachev’s perestroika—a product of the lost Cold War—is an example of the former,
Putin’s policy of a reimperialization of the former Soviet space is an example of
the latter.
The book consists of three parts.
In this part I analyze the role of empire building in Russian history and look at
the similarities and differences with empire building in Western Europe. Why is it
that in Russia empire building and despotism have always tended to go hand in hand?
What are the differences and similarities between the legitimation theories used for
empire building in Russia and in the West? This part ends with a chapter on “empire
fatigue” in post-Soviet Russia and suggests that empire fatigue came to an end with
the arrival of Vladimir Putin, who considered it his historic role to reestablish
the lost empire. In the final chapters of this part the different diplomatic initiatives
of Putin are analyzed, such as the Collective Security Treaty Organization (CSTO),
the Shanghai Cooperation Organization (SCO), the Russia-Belarus Union State, the BRICS,
the Customs Union, as well as his most recent project: the Eurasian Union.
Part II analyzes how Putin, convinced that in order to rebuild the empire he needed
to rule for at least twenty years without interruption, put a system in place that
guaranteed this continued rule. It analyzes in detail how he eroded and dismantled
the democratic reforms, manipulated the party system, introduced fake parties, falsified
elections, and transformed the ruling party “United Russia” from a centrist party
into a revanchist and ultranationalist party. One particular chapter describes the
activities of the Kremlin’s youth movement “Nashi,” which enabled the Kremlin to inculcate
its adherents with its ultranationalist ideology and strengthen its grip on civil
society by harassing and intimidating opponents. Another chapter describes the new
role, assigned to the Cossacks, who function as Putin’s praetorian guard and auxiliary
police force after the mass protests of 2011–2012.
In this part the wars of Putin’s regime are analyzed and compared with other recent
wars fought by (Soviet) Russia. In the first chapter three
lost
wars are analyzed: the war in Afghanistan, the Cold War, and the First Chechen War.
This analysis is followed by a chapter on the
casus belli
,
which offered (then) Prime Minister Putin an opportunity to start an all-out second
war in Chechnya: the so-called “apartment bombings” of September 1999, which killed
hundreds of Russian citizens. The Kremlin ascribed these attacks to Chechen terrorists,
but the official Kremlin version is put in doubt by allegations that the FSB, the
KGB’s follow-up organization, masterminded these explosions. This chapter is followed
by a chapter on the Second Chechen War, a war characterized by purges, torture, and
forced disappearances. I explain that this war had a triple function for the Kremlin:
to consolidate Putin’s position, to legitimate Putin’s power, and, additionally, to
enable him to roll back the democratic reforms. In the final chapters the 2008 war
with Georgia is analyzed. I distinguish three phases in this war: a “cold” war, a
“lukewarm” war, and, finally, the “hot” (five-day) war. Despite the Kremlin’s declarations
that this war came as a surprise, I present and analyze the many circumstances indicating
that this war was preplanned with the objective of bringing about a regime change
in Georgia.
Dmitri Trenin,
Post-Imperium: A Eurasian Story
(Washington, DC: Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, 2011), 142.
Trenin,
Post-Imperium
, 200.
Trenin,
Post-Imperium
, 232.
Trenin,
Post-Imperium
, 233.
Trenin,
Post-Imperium
, 208.
Trenin,
Post-Imperium
, 62.
Vladimir Zhirinovsky,
Poslednyy brosok na yug
(Moscow: Liberalnaya Demokraticheskaya Partiya Rossii, 1993), 117.
Zhirinovsky,
Poslednyy brosok
, 138.
Trenin,
Post-Imperium
, 27.
Trenin,
Post-Imperium
, 46.
Trenin,
Post-Imperium
, 45.
Trenin,
Post-Imperium
, 57.
Trenin,
Post-Imperium
, 100.
Trenin,
Post-Imperium
, 100.
The empires of the future are the empires of the mind.
—Winston Churchill, speech at Harvard University, September 6, 1943
Russia has always been, and still is, a very special country: first, because of its
geographical size, and second, because of its history. Russia is huge. It covers the
biggest landmass in the world. But this huge country is mostly landlocked and has
only some sparse outlets to the sea—on the Baltic and the Barents Seas in the north,
the Black Sea in the south, and the Pacific Ocean in the east. If the sea is a “window
on the world” (as tsar Peter the Great thought, which was why he built his new capital
in Saint Petersburg), then Russia resembles a huge bunker with high closed walls and
only a few small apertures. Is this the reason for the “bunker mentality” that foreign
visitors often observed and which led Russians to view their Western neighbors with
mixed feelings of distrust and jealousy?: jealousy because of the economic progress
and technical prowess of these neighbors (which Russia was eager to copy) and distrust
because of the dangerous democratic ideas that were considered a contagious disease
that should be stopped at the frontier. This country on the fringes of Europe was
known for the despotism of its leaders, its lack of freedom, and its eternal drive
for territorial expansion.
In the eighteenth century especially, when in Western Europe philosophers of the Enlightenment
started to attack absolutist rule and formulated their first radical democratic projects,
Russia became the counterexample to everything the
philosophes
stood for. Montesquieu, for instance, considered Russia a huge
prison
: “The Moscovites cannot leave the empire,” he wrote, “not even to travel.”
[1]
The tsar, he continued, was “the absolute ruler over the life and the goods of
his subjects, who, with the exception of four families, are all slaves.”
[2]
In
De l’esprit des lois
Montesquieu wrote that despotic governments, like Russia’s, are exclusively based
on
fear
: “One cannot speak without trembling about these monstrous governments.”
[3]
Jean-Jacques Rousseau was hardly more friendly in his assessment of the Russians,
who were for him not only “cruel fellows,” but who “will always regard free people
as they themselves should be regarded, that is to say as nobodies on whom only two
instruments bear any influence, namely money and the knout.”
[4]
Rousseau wrote these words in a recommendation for reform of the Polish government
that he sent to his Polish interlocutors shortly before Poland’s first partition in
1772. It was not without foresight that he warned the Poles: “You will never be free
as long as there remains one Russian soldier in Poland and your freedom will always
be threatened as long as Russia interferes in your affairs.”
[5]