End of the affair: no more love for the leader
Fragile Empire - How Russia fell in and out of love with Vladimir Putin
Ben Judah
Yale University Press, £20
AS THE last century ended there was a consensus amongst Russia watchers that nothing much could or would change in the country where president Boris Yeltsin was clinging to power by his fingertips.
His ability to govern Russia was very limited. ‘Oligarchs’, the powerful businessmen who had emerged from the chaotic privatisation of the Russian economy in the 1990s, dictated public policy. Across Russia’s vast space its regional leaders ignored commands from Moscow and made law as it suited them and in violation of the national constitution. The power of big business and local political bosses was so great that no new leader, Russia watchers thought, would be able to turn things round. Any new Russian president would be as hemmed in by vested interests as Yeltsin. “After Yeltsin,” as one American analyst put it, “would come … Yeltsin.”
But after Yeltsin came Vladimir Putin. Putin was not bullied by vested interests: he bullied them. The economy, in permanent crisis throughout the 1990s, turned around completely, recording growth of 7% a year between 2000 and 2008. Wages and living standards grew. Putin’s popularity was as high as Yeltsin’s had been low.
On the face of it, Russia watchers could not have been more wrong at the end of the Yeltsin era. But go a little beyond the headline economic figures and opinion polls and things look a little different.
Putin rebuilt Russian politics around himself after 2000. But creating great personal political power is not the same thing as building an effective political system.
When power rests with a single leader innovation is stifled, adaptation to new circumstances is slow, and policy implementation depends on the leader’s direct interference in public administration. The Russian economy grew not because it was better managed. Booming energy prices just made Russia’s oil and gas exports worth more than ever before. Putin knew that dependency on oil exports made Russia economically vulnerable to changes in global prices and demand.
Ending this energy dependency and diversifying the Russian economy meant reforming the Russian political system to support investment and new economic activity.
No Russian leader in recent history has successfully reformed politics. Reforms have either failed or created chaos. Faced with the ambitious plans of their masters and fearful of the penalties of failure, Russian bureaucrats have historically opted to make a show of fulfilling their orders. It’s better to pretend to succeed than to try and fail.
Strong leadership in Russian history has thus been tempered by weak control over what the political system actually delivers. From this perspective Putin is no different to his predecessors. He was just luckier than most of them because of high oil prices.
Ben Judah’s Fragile Empire is an excellent account of how Putin rode his luck between 2000 and 2008 to promote his vision of a new Russia, of how little he has actually achieved, and of the opposition he now faces. Judah tells the story of Putin’s changing fortunes very well. The book is full of telling anecdotes and Judah’s points are well illustrated with observations from contemporary Russian culture and life, as well as interviews from across the social and political spectrum.
Putin’s personal popularity on succeeding Boris Yeltsin rose quickly because, unlike Yeltsin, he was youthful, sober and talked a good talk. Putin used this popularity to get rid of unpopular business leaders and break their control over the Russian media.
Controlling the media helped Putin and his spin-doctors create what Judah calls Putin’s ‘telepopulism’. Putin dominated the airwaves and seemed to care for the ordinary person. He spoke their language and promised to deal with their enemies, the corrupt rich who had made their fortunes under Yeltsin, Chechen separatists, and venal public servants.
Putin’s telepopulism was a salve for the wounds that Russian society carried from the turbulent 1990s. Pleasing though this salve was for many Russians it did not achieve very much. Rising oil prices, not better public administration, lifted Russia out of economic crisis. Oil money allowed Russia to pay of its debts, allowed Putin to pay pensions and welfare benefits, and fuelled building and consumer booms.
From the Kremlin this looked like a great success and was used to increase Putin’s power. No one apart from a few malcontents and diehard democrats objected as Putin used tragedies such as the terrorist massacre at Beslan opportunistically to increase control over elections and regional politics. Opposition parties faded.
Putin’s party, United Russia, extended its influence across Russia and new electoral laws and electoral fraud guaranteed it success at the ballot box.
Putin’s power and economic growth papered over the fact that many of Putin’s goals have not been achieved.
Bureaucratic mismanagement, in particular corruption, grew, rather than contracted. Putin’s extension of his powers shut down political and media exposure of bureaucratic excesses.
The war in Chechnya that Putin ‘won’ did not bring peace to the Caucasus. It became a dirty war that has spread across the whole of the north Caucasus, with periodic terrorist attacks in Moscow.
Russia is more respected in international affairs than it was but this is a respect based on fear, and fear has isolated Russia rather than delivered foreign policy gains.
Putin recognised some of the limits of his success when he obeyed the letter of the Russian constitution and stepped down as president in 2008. He stayed on as prime minister and kept hold of the reins of power but his successor, Dmitri Medvedev, was tasked to reform the economy and to present a less confrontational face to the world.
This political sleight of hand might have worked but Putin’s luck ran out. Global economic downturn forced the price of oil down and Russia suffered the sharpest economic contraction of any developed economy in 2009. Although the economic crisis was short-lived in Russia (the price of oil soon rose again) it exposed the limited ability of both the Russian political system and of Putin to adapt and deal with crisis. Putin’s popularity began to decline. Opposition from internet-savvy younger Russians objected to Putin’s pushing Medvedev aside to return to the presidency.
The opposition exposed electoral fraud in the December 2011 parliamentary elections and the March 2012 presidential elections and young Russians took to the streets in thousands. Putin re-won the presidency but at a cost. Russia’s love affair with him is over.
Opposition to Putin became highly personalised during the struggle over the 2011- 12 elections. As Judah notes, Putin now rules a divided nation and has to keep it divided to stay in power, playing his supporters off against the opposition. Unfortunately, playing Russians off against one another is no solution to the deeper problems that Putin faces.
Personalisation of politics, for and against Putin, is wearing away the chances of forming a democratic consensus about what kind of politics Russia should have.
Putin and his opponents can only imagine victory and the destruction of the other side.
Whilst Putin and his rivals demonise each other, Russia stagnates. Corrupt officials carry on robbing the public purse and the economy remains dependent on oil and gas exports. Faced with uncertainty about the future, many educated Russians are looking for a way out of the country. In the end, and despite his power, Putin’s place in history may not be too different to Yeltsin’s. He has turned into one more Russian leader who promised more than he could deliver.
* Neil Robinson is professor of politics and director of the Institute for the Study of Knowledge in Society, University of Limerick


