Kitabı oku: «Statecraft», sayfa 9
Central Asia is also of strategic importance for economic reasons. It possesses great reserves of oil, natural gas, gold, silver, uranium and other valuable natural resources. Oil and gas, though, are the most important. It has been estimated that Kazakhstan and Turkmenistan together with Azerbaijan have oil reserves larger than those of Iran and Iraq. The known gas reserves of Turkmenistan alone are twice as large as those of the North Sea. Kazakhstan’s Tengiz oilfield is one of the world’s biggest. And by some accounts its Kashagan field, discovered in early 2001, is bigger still.
Oil and gas are equally crucial to the affairs of that ethnic tinderbox, the Caucasus – not just because of Azerbaijan’s reserves but because of the need for pipelines to exploit the fabulous energy wealth of the whole Caspian region. Russia is determined to maintain control over this oil and has engaged in this new ‘Great Game’ as vigorously as it did the old. It has sought to ensure that Azerbaijan and the Central Asian Republics use Russian oil- and gas-pipelines from the Caspian to its Black Sea port of Novorossiysk.* Russia has shown in recent years that it can cause a great deal of trouble in pursuit of its perceived interests. In a region where convoluted conspiracies and counter-intuitive theories thrive one should be careful about ascribing particular actions to particular actors. But it seems clear that Russia backed the overthrow of the first post-Soviet President of Georgia, Zviad Gamsakhurdia, in January 1992; and that it then supported a separatist revolt in Abkhazia in order to drive Georgia into the CIS, where it could keep it under firmer control. Similarly, in Azerbaijan in 1993 the upright, pro-Western democrat President Abulfaz Elchibey, who wanted to agree with a Western consortium a contract for the exploitation of Azeri oil – thus excluding the Russians – was immediately put under huge Russian pressure. Russia cut off Azerbaijan’s oil exports and used Armenia to increase the long-standing difficulties over Nagorno-Karabakh. Finally, when all else failed, Mr Elchibey was dislodged in a coup and the former Soviet Politburo member Haidar Aliev was installed in his place. And when Mr Aliev proved more recalcitrant than the Russians expected they backed two attempted coups against him.
The past results of Russian policy are easy to see, and they have been wholly destructive. Georgia, Azerbaijan and Armenia remain in a state of disorder, corruption and political decay. And the vast wealth of the Caspian is still not being properly used. The West has to try to ensure that law-based, stable states are developed in the region; that customers for oil and gas are not deprived of a vital alternative source to those of the Middle East; and that there is a sensible accommodation with Russian interests. For its part, Russia will need to accept that although both Central Asia and the Caucasus fall within its traditional sphere of interest, that sphere cannot be exclusive if these regions are to prosper. And it is in Russia’s own interest that they should.
Coping with tensions in the Northern Caucasus is a still more difficult matter, for of course the region actually lies within the frontiers of the Russian Federation. The non-Russian peoples there have endured a miserable history, and they can hardly be expected to thank Russia for it. That is especially true of Chechnya.
In Stalin’s deportation of 1944 some two hundred thousand Chechens lost their lives. When the USSR collapsed and the ‘sovereign’ republics of the Southern Caucasus escaped, the Chechens like the other non-Russian peoples who found themselves in the new Russian Federation were denied their freedom. They rebelled and declared independence.
In 1994 the Russians moved to repress the revolt. The Kremlin and the Russian armed forces were determined to demonstrate to other ethnic groups tempted to break away that their action would not be tolerated. The Russian campaign was also motivated by the desire to keep control of the vital oil pipeline which ran through Chechnya. As is well-known, this first campaign led to disaster from which only the charisma and negotiating skills of General Alexandr Lebed extracted the humiliated Russian forces.
Russia’s second campaign against Chechnya in 1999 had similar motives. But it was far better prepared, the number of Russian troops involved was much larger, and – measured against the objective of crushing Chechnya – it was quickly successful. It was clearly intended as a showcase for Russia’s military might. Even the well-documented brutality against civilians was intended to teach Russia’s enemies a lesson. The message was that in spite of the West’s edging Russia aside in Eastern Europe, in the Middle East and in the Balkans, Moscow was in charge of its own backyard.
The second Chechen campaign was waged with the enthusiastic support of the Russian people – and this is highly significant.* Of course, it is possible to argue that Russians were given a one-sided view of the conflict by their media. And it is certainly true that the Chechens played into Russian hands when its Islamic fanatics broke into neighbouring Russian Dagestan. But what aroused Russian nationalism was desire for revenge after a series of bombs in the late summer of 1999 left over three hundred Muscovites dead.
To this day no convincing evidence of Chechen involvement has been produced. But the Chechen campaign turned an almost unknown Prime Minister Putin into an overwhelmingly popular President Putin in the space of eight months. It also left a city desolate, thousands of civilians dead and a tide of pitiful homeless, hopeless refugees.
Russia’s treatment of Chechnya has been inexcusable. But it is not inexplicable, especially given the fact that – whoever planted the bombs in 1999 – the Chechens have, over the last three years, become increasingly involved in terrorism. Ominous developments have been hijackings, suicide bombings, attacks on civilian installations and growing ties with Islamic terrorists, including Osama bin Laden. None of this, though, provides a justification for Russia’s refusal to respect the wishes and interests of the Chechen population. Most Chechens are far from being Islamic fanatics: it is national, not religious, grievances that matter most to them. Before 11 September the Russian people had started again to be weary of the brutal campaigns aimed at crushing Chechen resistance. Prosecution of the wider war against terrorism must not now become an excuse for the Russian authorities to renew their attempts to wipe out the Chechen nation. Otherwise Moscow will become the terrorists’ main recruiting sergeant in the Caucasus.
We have to speak the truth clearly about Russia’s behaviour: in Chechnya it has been unacceptable
We must make it clear that, while respecting the interests of a great power, we reject any right for Moscow to destabilise other countries of the former Soviet Union
The Baltic states should be brought into NATO, as they desire, at the right time
The West has important interests at stake in Ukraine (which borders NATO) and in the Central Asian and South Caucasian republics (which contain huge reserves of oil and gas which both we and Russia need to have developed); all these states should receive our attention and support – political, technical and economic
We must continue to cooperate with Russia in resisting Islamist extremism in Central Asia.
DOING BUSINESS WITH MR PUTIN?
President Putin’s personality and background have been the subject of a large amount of speculation and debate ever since it appeared certain that he would be master of the Kremlin. We know the basic facts; the difficulty is to be sure of what to make of them. Vladimir Putin fulfilled his childhood dream of joining the KGB, the Soviet secret police, in 1975 at the age of twenty-two. He spent the late 1980s working alongside the East German secret police, the Stasi, among other things spying on NATO (as he disclosed in a book-length interview in March 2000). In the early 1990s he returned to his native St Petersburg, first to work at the university and then joining the administration of the late Anatoly Sobchak, the reformist but allegedly corrupt mayor of St Petersburg. In 1996 Mr Putin was brought to Moscow to be Deputy Chief Administrator in the Kremlin. In 1998 he was appointed head of the Federal Security Bureau (FSB), the KGB’s successor. He then moved from Secretary of the President’s Security Council to become Prime Minister in August 1999, succeeding Mr Yeltsin the following March.
All of which tells us practically nothing; indeed, given Mr Putin’s background in a profession where deceit and disinformation are all it may be less than nothing. It is always important in matters of high politics to know what you do not know. Those who think they know, but are mistaken, and act upon their mistakes, are the most dangerous people to have in charge.
Britain’s current Prime Minister certainly felt no inhibitions about pronouncing judgement on Mr Putin. He enthusiastically described the then Acting President as a ‘moderniser’ and offered to allow him to benefit from the expertise of the Downing Street Policy Unit. Mr Blair stated as well that Mr Putin ‘believes in a Russia which is ordered and strong but also democratic and liberal’.
A good deal of this was wishful thinking. Western leaders looked forward to dealing with a Russian leader who was healthy, sober, predictable and presentable. And they therefore hoped against hope that they were also dealing with a reforming democrat. It was, indeed, possible that such a person might have emerged from the stable of the KGB. But it was equally possible, and perhaps more probable, that Vladimir Putin was closer to the model of that other ex-KGB chief who became President, Yuri Andropov – hailed by the West at the time as a pro-Western liberal because he liked jazz and drank Scotch, ignoring the fact that he had also been a central figure in the brutal suppression of Hungarian freedom in 1956. Shortly before his election, Mr Putin solemnly unveiled a plaque to Andropov in the KGB’s old Lubyanka headquarters. That was not, all things considered, a reassuring sign.
Since then a clearer, though far from unambiguous, picture of Mr Putin’s presidency has been emerging. Its central approach is to create a strong state so as to restore order. For all its ominous overtones, that is what Mr Putin means by his oft-repeated phrase a ‘dictatorship of law’. His view, like that of probably most Russians, is that the Gorbachev and Yeltsin years saw authority drained away from central institutions to the benefit of different selfish interests, such as financial oligarchs, the mafia and regional bosses. In the chaos and corruption that have followed, the Russian people have lost out and Russia itself has been humiliated. Thus populism and patriotism have provided the main themes of Mr Putin’s campaigns. And he has been remarkably successful, winning a mandate of 53 per cent of the electorate and continuing – as of now – to enjoy widespread support.
In some respects, that is a programme with much to recommend it. Freedom without order is, indeed, mere anarchy. While Russia’s society, economy and politics are heavily criminalised there is no prospect for lasting recovery. Government everywhere does need to be strong in carrying out its essential tasks, and particularly so when the obstacles are as formidable as in Russia.
But government in a free society must also be limited in size and scope; it must not intrude into those aspects of life which are by rights private; and, above all, it must uphold and abide by, not undermine or override, the law. The call for ‘strong’ measures and ‘strong’ men is often an all too well-known preliminary to some kind of dictatorship.
How does Mr Putin’s programme measure up to this? Perhaps the most obvious feature of his analysis is its realism. He does seem to understand that Russia is in dire straits and that more of the same – whether the ‘same’ is communism or mafia-controlled quasi-capitalism – is not a viable option. In his State of the Nation Address to the Russian Federal Assembly in July 2000 he spoke in sombre tones about the country’s parlous state – its demographic decline which (he said) ‘threatened the nation’s survival’, the fact that the recent spurt of economic growth was unsustainable while structures were unreformed, and that ‘a considerable segment’ of that economy was in the hands of the criminal underworld. Mr Putin set out a programme of free-market reforms in language which sounds convincing – calling for lower taxes, less government interference and more competition. And some of this programme has since been implemented. The President has surrounded himself with at least some people who genuinely understand and believe in that programme.* Above all, he appears to have grasped that reform programmes are not simply a means of extorting fresh loans from gullible Westerners. He sees policies for economic revival as vital to prevent Russia being for ever under the thumb of non-Russians. This too makes sense. National pride has to be mobilised behind tough economic measures if they are to be given time to work – as we showed in Britain in the early eighties.
I sympathise too with the Russian President’s desire to create efficient administrative and security structures. Russia is a huge country which is not easy to rule. It is probably necessary to reinforce central control in some areas in order to stamp out corruption. My Russian friends talk of the need to ‘nationalise’ the Kremlin once more after years during which it was ‘privatised’ to the benefit of various powerful interests. And it is only natural that when embarking upon such a programme one should want to rely on ‘new men’ chosen from among one’s own friends and confidants. That is how politics works – particularly in the political jungle.
But, with all that said, I can also understand the worries of those – at present, it seems, a small minority – in Russia who are genuinely worried by some of Mr Putin’s decisions – such as, to clip the wings of elected regional governors, to appoint his own associates with FSB backgrounds to key positions, and to clamp down on critical independent media. Are we seeing the restoration of authority or the beginnings of authoritarianism? The jury is still out.
What matters most to non-Russians, however, is President Putin’s approach to foreign relations. And again the signs are mixed. In some respects, Russia’s attitudes have suggested continuity with those of the old Soviet Union.
Russia has shown itself determined to counter American global pre-eminence. To this end, it has sought to use the issue of ballistic missile defence and adherence to the ABM treaty to split Europe from America – with, it should be added, a good deal of help from the French and German governments. Russia has also been trying to build a broad ‘strategic partnership’ with China against the West.
In truth, these features of Russian foreign policy have never made any long-term sense, even for Russia. Mr Putin and his advisers must know that neither Moscow nor Beijing – nor even a combination of the two – can hope to compete in great-power politics with America. He must know that he will continue to need America’s help, or at least forbearance, as he tries to restore his country’s economy. He might also reflect that Russia could have to call upon the United States to use its planned ballistic missile defence system to bring down a missile aimed by an Islamic terrorist group or a rogue state at a Russian city.
Russia’s plans to create a strategic partnership with China to combat American influence are also flawed. Some 300,000 Chinese now live in the Russian Far East (if migration continues at the current rate, that population could reach ten million in fifty years’ time). Seven and a half million Russians face three hundred million Chinese across the border. Someone will eventually develop and exploit the natural riches of Russia’s Far East: but will it be the Russians, or the Chinese? It would be more sensible to settle, once and for all, Russia’s old territorial disputes with Japan, and then welcome in Japanese capital. That is certainly a more prudent course than accepting the region’s economic dependency on China.*
There is, however, another side to Mr Putin’s policies – one which has dominated Western perceptions of Russia in the wake of the terrorist attacks of 11 September. The Russian President’s reaction to these events was at once humane and shrewd. There is no reason to believe that his expressions of sympathy and his close rapport with President Bush in America’s time of trial were anything other than sincere. But it is equally important to note that Russia has its own strong reasons for wanting the United States to adopt as its dominant goal over the next few years prosecution of the war against terrorism. Russian influence in Central Asia and the Caucasus and its hold on Chechnya will all be boosted by what has occurred. To be able to portray its opponents as Islamist extremists and terrorists is a propaganda weapon which Russia will be keen to seize.
Russia will also hope to gain other advantages. It may hope to extract larger concessions for eventually acquiescing in US missile defence plans. It will almost certainly expect more economic aid. It may demand early entry into the WTO.
Yet perhaps the thorniest issue will turn out to be Russia’s relationship with NATO. As a clear-sighted pragmatist, Mr Putin will have noted that NATO is now as near a world policeman as exists, and that no other candidate can replace it. Hitherto, in large part as a result of lingering Cold War attitudes, Russia has sought whenever possible to prevent NATO’s expansion, particularly since that expansion brings it ever closer to Russia’s own borders. But from remarks he himself has made and from other signs emanating from Moscow, it seems increasingly likely that President Putin would like to see Russia itself as a NATO member.
It is easy to see why this might at first sight appear attractive to the West as well. What better way to seal the victory of freedom in the Cold War than to welcome our old adversary within our ranks? And in view of the dangers from Islamic extremism, and perhaps in the longer term from China, might it not make sense to turn Russia away from the East, bring it into Europe, and add to NATO another major power on whose resources we could draw?
The fact that such a prospect is even imaginable demonstrates how profoundly the world has changed since the Cold War. But what is imaginable is not necessarily desirable. It is, of course, true that Russia is not our enemy. It is not engaged in an ideological struggle with us. It is not in a position to embark upon a global struggle of any kind. So there is no reason in principle why Russia should not join. In practice, though, there are several reasons.
First, although Russia is not communist, nor likely to become so, it is certainly not yet a ‘normal country’. Its internal problems are unresolved, and it is possible to imagine any one of these leading to dangerous instability, possibly involving other neighbouring states. It is easy to see how this could present the rest of NATO with irresolvable dilemmas.
Second, although Russia may over a number of years eventually become a stable, prosperous, liberal democracy, it is not going to change its identity. And that identity will always be Asian as well as European, Eastern as well as Western. These are immutable facts of geography, ethnicity, culture, religion and ultimately national interest. If NATO is to have any underlying coherence it must, in at least its core, be ‘Western’. Russia can never be simply that.
Third, NATO today is already a sprawling alliance, comprising nineteen members. But it is effective because America leads. Anything which undermines that leadership weakens NATO. That is why, for example, the idea of a European army contains so many risks.* But bringing Russia within NATO would be even more dangerous. Russia will never willingly accept American dominance. Within NATO it would be in a position to obstruct, and it would quickly seek and doubtless find European collaborators in its objectives. Acknowledgement of these objections probably explains why President Putin has talked about NATO becoming a ‘political’ (as opposed to a primarily military) organisation. But NATO is first and last an alliance. And it must remain so if it is to be effective.
Yet, whatever one thinks of Russia’s longer-term aims and ambitions, it is hard not to be impressed with the qualities which Mr Putin has shown. He is providing his country with strong, vigorous leadership after years of disorder and disarray. He is also clearly able to assess international events and to respond to them boldly, shrewdly and effectively. It is not necessary to ascribe to him a tender conscience, nor the liberal instincts of a democrat, in order to appreciate his worth as a leader with whom the West can deal.
