By Eric Vandenbroeck and co-workers

When in part one of understanding Putin's worldview we cited; “There can be no alliance between Russia and the West, either for the sake of interests or for the sake of principles. There is not a single interest, not a single trend in the West that does not conspire against Russia, especially her future, and does not try to harm her. Therefore Russia’s only natural policy towards the West must be to seek not an alliance with the Western powers but their disunion and division. Only then will they not be hostile to us, not of course out of conviction, but out of impotence.”- Fyodor TyutchevSlavophile and a militant Pan-Slavist.

These words, which sound like something Russia’s President Vladimir Putin might have said recently, were actually penned in 1864 by the Russian poet and diplomat Fyodor Tyutchev. The notion of perpetual Western antipathy runs in strong currents throughout Russian thought over the past two centuries. Indeed this is a well from which Putin has drawn deeply in recent speeches to mobilize the Russian populace and to justify the Kremlin’s policies in Ukraine and elsewhere. The West, according to this account, is both envious of Russia’s dynamism and moral superiority and eager to profit territorially at Russia’s expense. Putin has repeatedly alleged that the West has maintained a containment policy toward Russia since the 18th century; the Western reaction to events in Ukraine is merely the present manifestation of this policy. Indeed, so deep and consistent is the animosity toward the mighty Eurasian colossus that, even without Ukraine, Westerners would have seized on some other pretext, however flimsy, to try to keep Russia on its knees.

 

NATO enlargement

The charge that the West reneged on a pledge not to enlarge NATO at the end of the Cold War has been authoritatively rebutted by a 2009 study that examined declassified Soviet and Western written accounts of key meetings in 1990 rather than relying solely on the memory of participants. Statements about NATO not moving “one inch to the east” were referring to the alliance’s military infrastructure in the context of a reunified Germany as a NATO member. Neither side at the time understood these statements as precluding Central European membership in NATO, for the simple reason that neither the Soviets nor the West could imagine such a prospect in early 1990.

There is another vitally important aspect of NATO enlargement that its detractors gloss over: Central European countries have not been dragged or lured into NATO by the West; they’ve been pushed by Moscow. Russian revisionism and great-power chauvinism constitute the finest NATO recruitment tool ever devised. Just one interview by the likes of Aleksandr Dugin, or one conference by Konstantin Zatulin’s CIS Institute, does the trick better than the cumulative work of all the NATO information centers over the past 25 years. If Moscow doesn’t like NATO enlargement, it might usefully stop creating the conditions that make NATO membership such an attractive proposition for so many of Russia’s neighbors. An exaggerated fear of hostile encirclement drives Russian policies that antagonize other states, creating a self-fulfilling prophecy; by definition, Russia can never have secure borders as long as it keeps making enemies of its neighbors.

Stripped of its massive overlay of mythology, pathos, and historical misinterpretation, the Russian victimization narrative nevertheless does contain a kernel of truth. Western powers have indeed pursued their own interests, choosing to advance them even when they clash with Russia’s and have failed to consult or even inform Russia at key junctures. But to be honest, this is exactly what Russia has done with respect to the West. Western blindsiding of Russia on Bosnia, Kosovo, and Libya finds its counterpart in unilateral Russian moves such as the 1999 seizure of the Priština Airport in Kosovo and the invasions of Georgia and Ukraine. 

An honest look at post-Cold War Western and Russian interests prompts us to ask two sets of questions. First, what specifically would it have meant for the West to accommodate Russian interests over the past 25 years? Acquiescing in ethnic cleansing in the Balkans? Watching Qaddafi’s forces drown Benghazi in blood? Cheering from the sidelines as Russia absorbed neighboring regions, or even entire countries, under the guise of supposedly indigenous, “popular” movements for Eurasian integration or reunification of the Russian World? Eschewing NATO enlargement and leaving Central Europe in a security vacuum, where the smoldering embers of old conflicts could burst once more into flames? Second, if the goals and interests of the West and Russia differ radically, as they clearly do in so many areas, then how, as a practical matter, are the two of them supposed to partner? How can they cooperate when they’re pulling in different directions?

Unfortunately, when it comes to European security, Russian and Western interests are largely at odds. The post-Cold War Western effort to “export security” to the east runs directly counter to Moscow’s predilection for weak, divided neighbors that it can dominate. Russian great-power chauvinists persist in seeing 1991 as a historical aberration, tragic but reversible, while the rest of the world—and above all, Russia’s post-Soviet neighbors—perceive it as the new normal. Actually, for all the vilification of the West, Moscow’s effort to upend the post-Cold War order is not being thwarted by Western resolve (if only!), so much as by Russia’s own inability to re-gather the post-Soviet lands by either attraction or compulsion.

Similarly, many Russians have viewed the breakup of the Soviet Union as not only tragic and unjust but also artificial—and unnatural sundering of the historical and spiritual ties binding Russia with many of its former subject peoples. Such Russians have postulated that this 1991 aberration would be reversed in some organic fashion, that “healthy elements” in neighboring post-Soviet states would heed the call of blood, language, and history, surrender to the natural gravitational pull of their mighty neighbor and reintegrate on some basis or another with Russia. Accordingly, the idea of Belarusian statehood (or Ukrainian, for that matter) was not merely a risible absurdity, but an outright affront—an offense against the natural order.

The major division among Western observers of Russia is not between those who understand Russia’s perspective and those who do not. It is between those who accept the Russian narrative more or less uncritically, and those who find that narrative distorted, self-serving, and riddled with errors of fact and interpretation.

A critical juncture took place in 2020 when Russian constitutional changes extended Putin’s term in office until 2026. This introduced a mod­ified version of Orthodoxy-Auto­cracy-Nationality, drawn up in 1833 under Emperor Nicholas I, where Sarov’s triad is reused in official Russian nar­ratives in a revitalized continuous manner.

Since the annexation of Crimea, Putin has invoked the concepts of a “divided people” and “protecting compatriots abroad.” The central argument is that, since the Soviet collapse, there has been a mismatch between Russia’s state borders and its national or ethnic borders and that this is both a historical injustice and a threat to Russia’s security. After the Soviet collapse, twenty-two million Russians found themselves outside Russia, living in other post-Soviet states. In Putin’s view, Russia has a right to come to the defense of Russians under threat in the post-Soviet space.

 

Russia's authoritarian Foreign Policy

Throughout the Soviet era, outsiders debated the relationship between the USSR’s political system and its foreign policy. Did the Soviet Union behave internationally just as other great powers did, or was there something unique about the domestic system that made it more challenging to deal with? Communist ideology committed the USSR to pursue world revolution. Still, in practice, the Kremlin had to interact with other states.

In the interwar years, there were two Soviet foreign policies. One was the policy of a normal state with diplomats and government officials interacting with their foreign counterparts. Georgia Chicherin, Soviet commissar of foreign affairs from 1922 to 1930, was the scion of a distinguished tsarist diplomatic family who had defected to the Bolshevik cause. He attended international meetings—such as the Genoa conference where the USSR and Germany signed the infamous Treaty of Rapallo, which eventually enabled Weimar Germany to rearm—in full morning dress. The other foreign policy was that of a revolutionary state. Moscow created the Communist International—known as the Comintern—an organization of foreign communist parties led by the Kremlin that sought to overthrow the very governments with which the Soviet commissar of foreign affairs was dealing. Chicherin’s counterpart in the Comintern would attend international meetings in proletarian garb, plotting how to overthrow the bourgeois governments with whom Chicherin was negotiating. Except the popular-front strategy from 1934 to 1939, when communists in Europe were encouraged to collaborate with socialists and other anti-fascist groups against the rise of Hitler, this schizophrenic view of the world lasted until Stalin, at the height of World War Two’s grand alliance with the US and the UK, who saw no reason to keep it going, dissolved the Comintern in 1943.

During World War Two, those in the West who dealt with Russia were divided into two camps. The first camp, of whom Franklin Roosevelt was the most prominent member, believed there was no option but to deal with the Soviet Union as one would with any great power. “I have a hunch,” Roosevelt said, “that if I give Joseph Stalin what he wants and ask nothing in return, noblesse oblige, he will work for the good of his people.” This view—that one could make deals with Moscow—was paramount during the Yalta Conference in February 1945, when the victorious powers divided Europe in two, with the Soviet Union occupying and controlling the eastern half.

In September 2015, during a speech to the United Nations General Assembly, Putin praised the Yalta Conference: “The Yalta system—helped the humanity through turbulent, dramatic events of the last seven decades. It saved the world from large-scale upheavals.”23 For the next half-century, some Western leaders sought to make pragmatic deals with Moscow based on mutual interests, the détente era from 1972 to 1980 being the most prominent example. Richard Nixon and Henry Kissinger believed that one could do business with the Soviet leaders and succeeded in signing several arms control and trade agreements. Pursuing classical balance-of-power policies, they took advantage of the hostile relations between the USSR and China to woo the Soviets. West German chancellor Willy Brandt’s new Ostpolitik was another example of striking successful deals with the Kremlin, and it eventually led to German reunification.24

Arrayed against the proponents of pragmatic cooperation with Russia were those who viewed the USSR and its leaders through a much darker lens and were convinced that the communist ideology made it impossible to deal with the Kremlin as if it were just another great power. George F. Kennan, the father of the theory of containment, expressed these sentiments in his seminal Mr. X article in the journal Foreign Affairs in 1947. Soviet behavior, he argued, was a product of the traditional suspicious tsarist view of the world reinforced by the Soviet adaptation of Marxism-Leninism implacably opposed to the capitalist West. The USSR was inherently expansionist, and the only way to counter it was to pursue a “long-term, patient but firm and vigilant containment of Russia’s expansive tendencies.”25 But Kennan was also convinced that contained, the Soviet Union would eventually collapse from its internal rot.

Of course, during the Cold War, numerous countries outside the Western alliance were willing to do business with the USSR irrespective of its domestic system. Many developing countries viewed Moscow through an anti-colonialist lens, believing the Kremlin would support their interests against the West until some began to experience Soviet heavy-handedness and the competition for influence between China and the USSR. African delegates at international conferences would complain about Soviet officials trying to persuade them over lunch to support their cause, followed by Chinese officials insisting over dinner that theirs was the correct path forward. China itself felt subordinated to the USSR and emerged as an ideological rival and a claimant in the Soviet Far East. After Stalin died, Mao Tse-tung believed that he should lead the international communist movement, and he looked down on the uncouth (in his view) Nikita Khrushchev, who refused to cede that role to him. Between the initial Sino-Soviet split in 1958 and Gorbachev’s ascent to power in 1985, Beijing was arguably seen to be as great a threat to Moscow as was Washington.

When the USSR collapsed, and Boris Yeltsin wrested the Kremlin from Gorbachev to become the first president of the Russian Federation, the Chinese were horrified, and the West was cautiously optimistic although wary of Yeltsin’s unpredictability. When Bill Clinton came into office, he and his closest aides were convinced of the crucial link between a country’s domestic political system and its foreign policy. The liberal internationalist ideas in which they believed, as already noted, held that democracies do not go to war with each other. It was imperative for the United States to do all it could to help Russia become a democracy.

When Vladimir Putin took over from Yeltsin, he was determined to restore Russia’s greatness. He understood the connection between domestic and foreign policies differ from those in power during the brief Yeltsin interlude. Domestic considerations increasingly drove foreign policy. During his first term, from 2000 to 2004, Putin appeared to seek greater integration into the global economy and introduced several modernizing reforms. This was also a time of cooperation with the West—the post-9/11 partnership with the United States in Afghanistan and a rapprochement with Germany—until events in Russia’s neighborhood and beyond caused a domestic crackdown. Putin had initially favored closer ties to the West. But when he realized that the West expected Russia to become more democratic and encourage the development of competing political parties, he began to view closer ties with the West with suspicion because of their implications for his hold on power. The George W. Bush administration’s Freedom Agenda involved regime change in Iraq, Georgia, or Ukraine. At least, that is how Putin saw it. And that represented a direct challenge to Russian interests.

During Putin’s second presidential term, domestic freedoms were curtailed in the name of security. Putin had blamed the West for a 2004 terrorist attack in Beslan in the North Caucasus when hundreds of children were killed. “Some would like to cut a juicy piece of our pie. Others help them.”26 After the shock of the color revolutions that deposed rulers in Ukraine and Georgia, Putin appointed Vladislav Surkov, his half-Chechen “grey cardinal,” to direct the transition to what has become known as “managed democracy.” A former public relations man, Surkov describes himself as the author of the current “Russian system.” The system he calls “sovereign democracy,” combines “democratic rhetoric and undemocratic intent.”27 Surkov stresses sovereignty over democracy, meaning that no outside power should interfere in Russia’s domestic affairs. He created a pro-Putin youth group, Nashi (Ours), to battle liberal youth and created a series of patriotic summer camps that resemble the Soviet-era Young Pioneer and Young Communist conclaves. Independent media were slowly closed down as the state took over virtually all broadcast media.

Putin attempted to introduce pension reforms in 2005, but the pensioners took to the streets in protest, and the government was forced to back down. After that, economic reform ceased. The rise in oil prices and strong GDP growth from 2000 to 2008 bolstered Putin’s self-confidence and determination not to be subordinate to the West.

During his second term, Putin increasingly turned against the West, and in his third presidential term, which began in 2012, foreign policy was primarily used to bolster his domestic ratings. In 2011, he had been shocked by demonstrations protesting falsified parliamentary elections and his announced return to the Kremlin. A change in US ambassadors further convinced Putin that Washington was undermining him. Career diplomat John Beyrle, whose father had fought with both the US and Soviet armies in World War Two after escaping German captivity, was replaced by Michael McFaul, a Stanford professor and adviser to Barack Obama who had worked on democracy promotion in Russia in the 1990s and who was hounded by the Russian media from the day of his arrival in Moscow.28

Once the Ukraine crisis began in late 2013, Russia portrayed itself as being at war with the West, accusing its “fifth columnists” inside Russia of trying to destroy the country. With his approval rating hovering around 90 percent and an increasingly assertive and unpredictable policy, Putin had managed to persuade many in the West that dealing with Russia was not like dealing with another great power. The more authoritarian the government, the more aggressive the foreign policy. Nevertheless, many non-Western countries view Russia as a partner that does not interfere with their domestic policies or internal political system and seeks to create new international rules and organizations not dominated by the West.

Vladimir Putin has skillfully appealed to tsarist and Soviet nostalgia to emphasize Russia’s unique place in the world and his part in restoring Russia’s rightful role as a great power. The tsarist two-headed eagle—symbolizing that Russia looks East and West—has replaced the hammer and sickle on the Russian flag. The rousing tune of the Soviet national anthem was brought back after Yeltsin’s experiment with a new tune failed miserably. But the anthem now has new words. While extolling Russian exceptionalism, Putin has re-created the enemy image of the West and its purported agents in Russia. He portrays himself as the protector of Russians living the near abroad because of the perceived historical injustice that followed the Soviet collapse. He defends Russia’s right to restore the global role it lost after 1992.

Russia is unlikely to become a truly modern state if it looks too much to its past glories and grievances. The problem with the appeal to the past as the harbinger of Russia’s future is that it idealizes the nineteenth century when Russia was a significant player in the Concert of Europe and the Red Army’s victory in World War Two under Stalin’s leadership. But that is no model for the twenty-first-century global disorder in which Russia finds itself today. Trying to re-create the Congress of Vienna with nuclear weapons and many international players will inevitably lead to rifts with countries that have a different stake in the emerging global order. If the new Russian Idea is the old Russian Idea popularized with twenty-fiIdeacentury technology, Ideahreatens to render Russia a continuing prisoner of its past.

Putin’s fourth inaugural ceremony in May 2018 showcased the new Russian Idea, emphasizing tradition and patriotism. He was filmIdeaeaving his office and walking briskly to a shiny new Russian-made armored limousine—the first time the vehicle had been used. He emerged from the limousine at the Great Kremlin Palace and swore his oath on a copy of the Russian Constitution. In his brief speech, he evoked Russia’s glorious past with an appeal to the future.

We all are the inheritors of Russia and its thousand years of history, the inheritors of this land that has given birth to exceptional sons and daughters, workers, warriors, and creators. They have passed down to us this vast, great state. There is no doubt that we can draw strength from our past. But even the most glorious history is not enough to ensure a better life. Today’s generations of Russians must reinforce this grandeur through their acts.29 

 

This is the vision that animates Putin.

 

Notes.

 

23. “Vladimir Putin Prinial Uchastii v Plenarnom Zasedanii Iubilneinoi Sessii Generalnoi Assemblii OON v Niu Yorki,” President of Russia website, September 28, 2015, http://kremlin.ru/events/president/news/50385.

24. Angela Stent, Russia and Germany Reborn, 21–26.

25. Mr. X [George F. Kennan], “The Sources of Soviet Conduct,” Foreign Affairs, July 1947, https://www.foreignaffairs.com/articles/russian-federation/1947-07-01/sources-soviet-conduct.

26. Jonathan Steele, “Putin Warns of Security Backlash,” The Guardian, September 5, 2004, https://www.theguardian.com/world/2004/sep/06/chechnya.russia2.

27. Peter Pomerantsev, “The Hidden Author of Putinism,” The Atlantic, November 7, 2014, https://www.theatlantic.com/international/archive/2014/11/hidden-author-putinism-russia-vladislav-surkov/382489/.

28. Michael McFaul, From Cold War to Hot Peace: An American Ambassador in Putin’s Russia (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 2018).

29. “Transcript of the Inauguration of Vladimir Putin as President of Russia,” President of Russia website, May 7, 2004, http://en.kremlin.ru/events/president/transcripts/48210.

 

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