Power Politics

A new poll from Pew suggests that Americans have become more isolationist since the Iraq war.

Forty-two percent of Americans think the United States should ‘’mind its own business internationally and let other countries get along the best they can on their own,'’ according to the survey, which was conducted by the Pew Research Center in association with the Council on Foreign Relations.

That is an increase of 40 percent since a poll taken in December 2002, before the U.S.-led invasion of Iraq; at that time only 30 percent of Americans said the country should mind its own business internationally.

Take the results with a grain of salt. Public policy polls are always unreliable to some degree, since much of the American public has only a tangential knowledge of the issues at hand. Respondents often answer without meaningful comprehension or true feeling. Public opinion is, furthermore, ephemeral and variable; transitory foreign events can play a significant role in shaping short-term public perceptions.

Nevertheless, the sentiment highlighted by this poll appears to be entrenched and durable. The American public have turned against the President on his Iraq war policy and have become quite dissatisfied with his management of the reconstruction. This is logical; the president’s policies have been manifestly unimpressive, and his incompetence has cost the United States lives, money, materiel, and prestige. The question is, of what consequence will this be to the conduct of US foreign policy.

To some extent, the answer is “not much.” Foreign policy, aside from perhaps war policy, is well insulated from public pressures. The public, again aside from wars, doesn’t feel strongly about the conduct of foreign policy and is often uninterested in even broad foreign policy issues. Complexity, opacity, and seeming irrelevance to daily life are the hallmarks of diplomacy and foreign relations, and thus it is difficult for the public to become energized about the subject, let alone develop a sophisticated understanding. Where national opinion on foreign policy does matter is in directly affecting the president’s approval ratings.

That appears to make it very relevant in this case, however. President Bush’s approval ratings are very low, owing in part to his mishandling of the Iraq war; extreme public dissatisfaction over war policy has been translated into poor voter approval ratings. That is significant because it reduces the president’s political leverage tremendously. The president depends on public support to advance his agenda through and get his policies enacted by Congress and the bureaucracy. Without this support, Congressional representatives can and will rise in opposition. This is precisely what’s happening today. Both in the foreign and domestic spheres, the President is on the defensive and weak. He is forced to focus his political capital and attention on domestic issues to shore up support, which takes away a lot of what already reduced leverage over foreign relations he has left. Foreign leaders recognize this, and are often able to exploit it.

That is the central foreign policy dilemma of a weak president, and it’s a very difficult obstacle to overcome. Most presidents have not been able to implement a successful foreign policy program under these conditions (Truman, of course, is a prominent exception); I suspect that Bush will suffer a similar fate.

From the ever-rewarding Political Theory Daily Review I happened upon two interesting pieces on Russia in the Yale Politic.

The first is an interview of prominent Congressman Tom Lantos on the future of Russo-American relations. Lantos is a well-known proponent of Wilsonianism (elevating moral principles above pragmatic concerns in American foreign policy), and this philosophy is clearly influential in his view of Russia. Nevertheless, Wilsonian principles, while an important influence on the character of US foreign policy, have usually been subordinate to more pressing national interests. And so Lantos’ vision is ultimately disconnected from the realities of Washington’s view of Russia.

His comments nevertheless bear some interest.

Obviously the [Khodorkovsky] trial is politically inspired, it’s a kangaroo court. All of the oligarchs probably violated many laws, particularly since laws during the early 90’s were conflicting and internally inconsistent, so by definition a person could not function without violating laws. The Putin regime has engaged in selective prosecution because they were concerned about Khodorkovsky’s political ambitions. So it clearly is not a legal case in the Western sense of the term. It is the use of the Russian legal system, which is totally in the pocket of the Kremlin, to eliminate a potential political rival.

Although the Kremlin would no doubt dispute this, the evidence that Khodorkovsky’s trial was “politically inspired” is quite incontrovertible. In fact, all of Lantos’ points in the above paragraph are factually accurate. They lack the context, however, that is necessary to illustrate the complexity of the case. There are inherent difficulties in judging the extent to which the trial signalled a descent into abusive authoritarianism without discussing the background issues first.

The freewheeling period of the early 1990s was as the Congressman described. Coming out of the collapse of the USSR, the newly constituted Russian Federation had to confront a host of intractable social, political, economic, and legal problems. The economy was in a state of chaos, society was in a state of meltdown, and the political system was unstable and nebulous at best. As scholar Robert Service has written, “everywhere there was uncertainty. Arbitrary rule was ubiquitous, both centrally and locally. Justice was unenforceable. The rouble depreciated on a daily basis. It appeared to Russian citizens that their entire way of existence was in flux.” Governance had devolved back onto traditional networks of patronage and influence, and the ability of the Kremlin to hold the country together was in doubt. Under these conditions (and under encouragement from Western specialists recommending shock therapy above institution building), it’s entirely unsurprising that the government failed to enact a comprehensive and consistent legal framework for the economy. Similarly, the firesale privatization of state assets, considered crucial to Russia’s development, took place without formal transparency or accountability.

Russia’s early entrepreneurs, the oligarchs, were certainly ambitious and Westernized. They were and continue to be an essential ingredient of Russia’s economic development; as with the late 19th century American capitalists, they have contributed greatly to the prosperity of their country. Yet make no mistake about it: these are not “honorable” or scrupulously moral men. Such people would not survive and certainly would not thrive under either the cutthroat Soviet or freewheeling Russian systems. They exploited their political connections, cunning, and previous wealth to build up tremendous portfolios of assets. Khodorkovsky probably did good for the country, and ran his company well, but he was a smooth and powerful operator. He was not some kind of innocent businessman and he knew exactly what he was getting into when he opposed Putin politically.

To be sure, the trial was politically motivated. Khodorkovsky had declared his intentions to use his substantial wealth and power to oppose Putin and his allies, and persisted with this stance despite being warned off by the Kremlin. Khodorkovsky was simply too powerful for Putin to ignore, and, when lesser dissuation failed, Putin felt compelled to destroy Khodorkovsky and his opposition movement. This is, to be sure, not a sign of a healthy democracy. Ideally, Putin ought to have allowed the Yukos CEO to form his opposition group and so strengthen the institutions of multiparty democracy.

Russia was not in an ideal position, however. It was, as noted, emerging from a period of distress and chaos. Its political institutions, historically weak, were unstable and quite fragile; furthermore, unlike the the United States, with its tradition of liberalism, Russia has a tradition of authoritarianism. From this backdrop, a reasonable explanation of Putin’s actions emerges. Putin felt threatened by Khodorkovsky, and believed that the tycoon was going to disrupt his centralization of power and state-building. He also felt justified, based on Russia’s legal and institutional traditions, in using the courtroom to suppress Khodorkovsky. Was this sound policy? Probably not. Was this legitimate behavior? Perhaps not, but that’s examining it from a Western perspective that has its limits. Was this a dangerous sign that “Russia is going back to a Soviet-style system in which the executive branch, the legislative branch, and the judicial branch are dominated by the Kremlin, and there is no free media”? There a degree of truth in that, for Russia is indeed moving in an authoritarian direction, but by no means is Russia returning to a “Soviet-style system.”

The regime now is in the hands of former KGB officials, and I am very skeptical about the regime under the present leadership developing along democratic lines.

In fact Moscow is now in the hands of clearheaded pragmatists (Putin, Medvedev, and Ivanov). They may be authoritarian, but they understand the virtues of authoritarian democracy and will continue to govern in a relatively sensible manner. It may not be Western democracy and it may not be perfect, but this system is adequately suited to the needs of Russia. In time, Russia can perhaps develop the necessary preconditions for liberal democracy (although, like the Congressman, I’m skeptical that the current batch of leaders intend to allow that to happen), but that is not a system Russia requires today.

Russia and China both profoundly resent that the United States is the one remaining global superpower, which gives them reason to cooperate and undermine U.S. policy objectives whenever they can, as in the most recent case of opposing the referral of Iran’s nuclear program to the United Nations Security Council.

The Congressman has an idealized conception of Sino-Russian relations, which I’ll discuss at another point in time. Suffice it to say, the US-Sino-Russian triangle is a far more complex relationship than he depicts.

I’ll discuss the second interview, with retired Lieutenant General William Odom, tomorrow.

Robert Service, professor at Oxford, is recognized as one of today’s leading Russia scholars. He has been widely praised for his objectivity, dispassionate analysis, and balanced insight. In A History of Modern Russia, Service set out to chronicle Russian history from the reign of Nicholas II to the present day.

The result is simply magisterial; Service has written an authoritative, balanced, and highly insightful survey of Russia’s turbulent 20th century. Although the book is not without flaws, it has clearly earned a place as one of the standard references of modern Russian history.

To grasp the strengths and limitations of the work, of course, the reader must first understand exactly what Service is aiming to do. This is not a comprehensive or encyclopedic disquisition on Russia, nor is it an attempt to place Russian history in the context of broader events. Rather, Service has set out to describe Russia’s 20th century evolution thematically and analytically. His book focuses on the dynamics and changes in Russian society and politics in modern times, and excludes much else.

At this endeavor, Service succeeds brilliantly. His version of narrative Russian history, centered around the “Soviet compound,” is penetrating and insightful; it is clear that he’s invested significant effort in developing a nuanced and non-ideological approach to Russian history. From a clearheaded assessment of the early Bolshevik revolutionaries to a complex look at Gorbachev and his political program, Service’s analysis is remarkably cogent and scrupulous.

The book is, however, marred by two visible flaws. First, the author’s coverage of the post-1996 period is disappointingly sparse. Service does a marvelous job at discussing the promises and challenges of Yeltsin’s first term, but gives short shrift to his second. The section on Putin is, similarly, curt and limited. This is perhaps explained by the fact that these sections were added in a second edition of the book, and thus not part of the original narrative.

Second, the author focuses mostly on his own analysis and does not include the views of other scholars. While this is not a fatal omission (the work is, after all, mainly a narrative history), it leaves the book incomplete. There has been so much impressive work done on Russia, and so many uniquely insightful interpretations of Russian history, that the author does readers a disservice by not incorporating them. It would have made the tome even longer, to be sure, but it would have also immeasurably enriched the author’s discussion of Russian society and politics.

Although the book itself focuses on Russian history, Service ends the work with a short essay on Russia today. Like any good historian, Service looks at the present-day with a “historian’s eye,” a broad and measured perspective, and aptly identifies the most pressing successes and also challenges of post-Soviet Russia.

Russia’s achievements after 1991 have been substantial. Parliamentary and presidential elections have been held; they have been rough-and-ready processes, but the fact that they took place at all has set precedents which it will be hard for Yeltin’s successors to repudiate. Competition among political parties has prevailed. Social groups have been permitted to express their aspirations and grievances. A market economy has been established. Already the predominance of the state military-industrial establishment has been weakened. Entrepreneurship has been fostered. The press has enjoyed much freedom, and even television journalism has not been entirely subject to central political authority. The agencies of the police invade the privacy of citizens to a lesser extent than at any time in recent Russian history, and there have been no wars across Russia’s international frontiers. Slowly and frailly, after much trevail, economic recovery has got under way.

Enormous power is concentrated in the Russian presidency and it has not been exercised with discretion. Democratic and legal procedures have been treated with contempt by politicians in Moscow and the provinces. Polemics have become ever more strident in public debates. Administration is conducted on an arbitrary basis. The judiciary has lost much of its short-lived semi-autonomy. Criminality is rife. Ordinary citizens have little opportunity to defend themselves against the threats of the rich and powerful. There is much poverty. Programmes of social and material welfare have been undermined and the economy has yet to surmount the effects of de-industrialization and environmental pollution. There is also much apathy and ignorance about current politics. Rates of participation are low. Russians agree more about what they dislike than about what they like. The price they are paying is that they have little impact on the government and other state agencies except at elections.

In concluding his afterward, Service’s long-view of history is welcomely apparent.

Russia in the twentieth century was full of surprises. A single country produced Lenin, Krushchev and Gorbachev; it also reared Shostakovich, Akhmatova, Kapitsa, Sakharov and Pavlov. Its ordinary people, from the piteous inmates of the Gulag to the proud Red Army conscript-victors over Hitler, became symbols of momentous episodes in the history of our times. Russia has passed through two world wars, civil war, violent economic transformation, dictatorship and terror. She became and then ceased to be a superpower. She was once a largely agrarian and illiterate empire and is now literate, industrial and bereft of her borderland dominions. ‘Russia’ has not stopped changing. It would be idle to assume that her record of astounding herself, her neighbours and the world has come to an end.

A History of Modern Russia is a fantastic narrative chronicle of Russia in the 20th century. The author explores Russian society and politics, the “Soviet compound,” with great balance and perceptiveness. He adds greatly to the modern understanding of the internal dynamics of the Soviet Union. And his book is a wonderful addition to the library of anyone looking to understand a country that will remain critically important well into the 21st century.

One of the favorite topics of speculation among Russia-watchers is who will end up leading the country after the 2008 presidential elections. Vladimir Putin, the current and powerful holder of that title, is constitutionally prohibited from seeking a third term as president in 2008, when his current mandate expires. Without a clear successor apparent, and with mixed messages coming from the Kremlin, the outcome of the election is eminently unclear.

Several possibilities have been suggested. One of the most compelling is that Putin will have the Constitution amended to make a parliamentary prime minister position the most powerful in the country. He would then, the theory goes, assume that position upon the conclusion of his presidency. Another compelling possibility is that Putin will officially step-down from the government as head of state, but retain a significant leadership role both as an advisor to the new government and through loyal allies who remain in positions of power. This would be akin to Lee Kuan Yew’s role in the governing of Singapore; although he’s no longer Prime Minister, Lee wields enormous influence over the state through his advisory role as “Minister Mentor.” Other possibilities that have been mentioned include amending the Constitution to permit Putin a third-term, Putin completely removing himself from Russia’s governance, and Putin seizing power as a dictator.

The news media periodically features stories on what Putin will do in 2008, although, because of the date’s relative distance, coverage is often sparse. A recent Associated Press article (courtesy Winds of Change), though, was fleshed out enough to merit some discussion.

Putin recently visited the Netherlands to hold discussions over Russian-Dutch relations and in particular energy policy. Russia is constructing a Northern European pipeline to deliver natural gas to Western Europe, and the Dutch would like to become involved in the project. Before Putin left for the Netherlands, he agreed to an interview with Dutch media which touched on a number of subjects, including the elections of 2008 and Russia’s future involvement with the EU and NATO.

The major challenge facing Russia in 2008 is that its political institutions are weak. Russia inherited weak and troubled political institutions after the dissolution of the Soviet Union, which President Yeltsin tried with only limited success to strengthen. Western democracy lacked a firm institutional base in the country, which is an essential prerequisite for a stable democratic state. Indeed, I would contend that strong institutions and traditions are more important for a nation than a democratic system. Putin recognized this key structural deficiency when he became president in 2000, and one of the central tenets of his administration has been to centralize power under the national government in Moscow. While he has succeeded in strengthening Moscow’s control over the country, Putin has unfortunately fallen into a common trap among Russian rulers: he’s turned the Russia government into a state based around a single person. Putin has the ability and insight to make this arrangement work; his successor may not.

While Putin has brought stability and moderation to Russia, he has neglected and in many cases compromised Russian political institutions. Corruption is widespread, political power has become unbalanced in favor of the office of the president, and the fourth estate has been suppressed. Putin has been successful in governing Russia only by virtue of being a talented leader; that makes the system ultimately unsustainable, however, since Putin’s successor (or later leaders) is unlikely to share Putin’s aptitude for governance.

And so we come to the fact that in 2008, Putin faces an extremely difficult and complex choice. If he simply exits the government and refuses to play a further role in Russia’s leadership, the country will almost certainly be torn apart by weak institutions and political intrigue. If he extends his time in power, he risks further ingraining the ultimately unsustainable model of one-man rule that threatens to be the ruin of Russia. There’s no time between now and then to sufficiently build up Russia’s institutions for the country to become politically stable.

Although Putin’s term in office has been marked by a significant centralization of power and a suppression of opposition, I don’t think that he’s interested in ruling Russia as a strongman dictator in perpetuity. I think Putin genuinely cares about what happens to Russia, and although he may want to remain in power, I don’t see him becoming anything approaching a Tsar-like figure.

Instead, I believe that he’ll select a successor (perhaps current Prime Minister Fradkov) to assume the presidency. Then, in the background (like Lee Kuan Yew), he’ll gently guide the government and advise the new president. This would allow him to remain in (some degree of) control of the country, while at the same time giving the government an opportunity to strengthen Russia’s domestic political institutions.

The one catch is if the threat of a colored-revolution emerges. At the moment, this seems unlikely. However, Putin is deeply opposed the idea of such a revolution in Russia, and would do everything he could to suppress one. If revolution threatens to break out, then Putin might indeed take extraordinary measures and extend his term in office. That would be unfortunate.