Russia: After Putin's coronation
By Boris Kagarlitsky
MOSCOW -- In the Russian drama, a new act is beginning. Since the
financial collapse of 1998, the “oligarchs” have recognised that the system
they have created cannot survive unchanged. But at the same time, they
are firmly resolved on maintaining its basic elements.
After the innumerable failures of neo-liberalism, and with this Western
ideology embraced by the Russian elites in the 1990s now totally discredited,
pressing ahead with the restoration of capitalism requires a change of
rhetoric. Instead of verbiage about the “common European home" and a “return
to world civilisation", the population are now hearing speeches about patriotism
and “the rebirth of state power".
In practice, however, all the slogans of the authorities are no more
than a cover for the continuing plunder of the country by local financial
oligarchs and transnational companies. The new administration of President
Vladimir Putin has shown complete indifference to criticism from Western
human rights organisations. “Defending sovereignty", Putin style, includes
demonstratively ignoring international norms in the human rights field.
Meanwhile, Western leaders, though lightly scolding the Russian regime
for its genocide in Chechnya, join in declaring their support for the new
authorities in the Kremlin.
The reason is simple: the Russian government is persisting with economic
policies favouring the interests of Western capital. Moreover, the Russian
authorities have effectively abandoned their objections to the expansion
of NATO to the east.
Putin's `program'
For the political fixers in the Kremlin, speculation about what Putin would
do after being officially declared president (instead of merely “acting"
president) was among the prime methods of election propaganda.
Newspapers with close ties to the oligarchs argued over whether the
future national leader would put the oligarchy in its place. On the television,
there were reports that whole cohorts of “brilliant minds" were drawing
up a program for the next ten years.
This document was being drafted in a highly singular fashion. The economic
sections were being compiled by right-wingers, while a few “leftists" had
been invited to work on the social provisions. There was no contradiction
here, since in Russia drafting a program is also a form of propaganda.
No-one has any intention of implementing the social promises, but they
are meant to sound convincing.
Leaving the propaganda to one side, we may ponder what is really going
to happen. It is clear that neither Putin nor his team have made any serious
projections. The absence of a real program is not a trick, and does not
reflect a wish by the country's rulers to avoid criticism or hide their
intentions.
The simple fact is that today's political bosses have been placed in
power in order to do nothing. More precisely, the new administration's
bureaucratic activity is strikingly intensive, but totally without content.
Putin holds consultations at which no important decisions are taken.
He travels about the country, where people show him one “Potemkin village"
after another. He delivers speeches that are general statements interspersed
with threats, couched in criminal slang, against Chechen terrorists and
his political opponents. None of this has the slightest effect on the economic,
social or even military situation.
The situation is certain to change, and radically. Until now the Putin
team has operated on the basis of state purchases remaining from the Yeltsin
regime. The trouble is that everything must be paid for, and Putin will
run up against the long-term consequences of the very decisions that brought
him to power.
Putin himself did not take any of these decisions, or at any rate, not
on his own. But the war in Chechnya, the early elections, and the turning
of orthodox nationalism into a sort of substitute for a state ideology
-- these are all his ploys. They were all devised for his benefit and under
his direction. As a result, Putin will also answer for their consequences.
Chechnya war
The war in Chechnya was Putin's main ace in the election campaign, and
even, in a certain sense, his chief method of campaigning. It has also
been the only means found by the regime for consolidating society.
For effective consolidation, however, one of two things is needed: either
a clear victory, or for the “enemy” to be at the gates. Neither of these
two conditions has applied. The Chechens have not been smashed, and neither
are they at the walls of the Kremlin.
For the rulers in Moscow, the war was already hopelessly lost in October
1999, when inadequately prepared federal forces rushed into mountainous
areas of the rebellious republic. From that moment, the question was no
longer of who would win, but of how soon society would realise that the
army had been defeated, and of the consequences of this defeat.
The first part of this question is easy enough to answer: the debacle
suffered by the federal forces will be clear by the end of spring. It is
not simply that the trees in Chechnya will be covered with leaves, and
that the air force will find it harder to operate. Russia's military aviation
was not particularly effective in the winter phase of the campaign either.
The problem has been that practically no combat-ready units remain in
Russia' armed forces, and that the reserves are exhausted. There are not
enough experienced pilots. Helicopters and other aircraft break down, and
problems arise with repair and servicing.
The few combat-ready army units have been forced to take on an additional
load of operations, and as a result, are suffering heavy losses. The Pskov
airborne division, for example, has suffered more casualties in the past
four months than in all of the first Chechen war. As the soldiers themselves
put it, the division has been left in Chechnya to “deal the final blow."
The motorised rifle units are no longer a real fighting force. By summer,
there will be almost no units of the Russian army capable mounting serious
military operations.
In other words, it is possible to keep troops on Chechen territory in
the capacity of live targets -- the Russian population is large enough
to allow Putin to do this for a long time to come. By summer, however,
he will no longer have an army capable of putting up a fight.
The Putin team, unlike that of Yeltsin, consists of bureaucrats, very
energetic, but quite lacking in imagination and initiative. The result
is that most likely, no fundamental decisions will be taken, and soldiers
will simply die by the hundreds and thousands.
In this situation, the authorities will immediately be faced with two
problems. Anti-war moods in society will increase (that is already part
of the trouble), while at the same time, anti-war and anti-Putin moods
will begin rising dramatically in the army, including among the rank and
file.
Anything can be expected, from mass desertion to mutinies in military
units dispatched to the front.
The Putin team has succeeded in crushing the opposition in the electronic
media -- but at what cost? Fewer and fewer people now believe what they
are told on the television.
Yeltsin was able to turn even mass discontent with the war to his advantage,
when the press, after bolstering their authority by campaigning against
the war, then set about boosting the president's rating. With Putin, everything
might happen the other way round.
In gagging his opponents, Putin has sacrificed any chance he might have
of controlling public opinion once the propagandist lie comes to the surface.
New slump in economy
Putin's second problem is the economy. The growth of production which is
providing the basis for propaganda both of the word and of the rouble (increases
in pensions, pay rises. and so forth), rests on the actions of preceding
governments. The cheap rouble they created encouraged economic growth,
and the economic growth created the conditions for Putin's rise to power.
The trouble was that the growth turned out to be relatively weak, and
now appears to be heading into stagnation or renewed decline. A fall in
output has already begun, and this is being concealed -- on the statistical
level -- only through unprecedentedly high oil prices. These prices will
not last beyond mid-April, as the onset of warmer weather in northern hemisphere
countries always causes oil prices to fall.
Moreover, the OPEC countries have decided to increase production. If
oil prices fall from US$25 a barrel to US$18, Russia's oil industry will
still be highly profitable. But it will no longer be able to subsidise
other branches of the economy.
By spring, the Moscow city government will be threatened with default
on its debts, and this, more than likely, is one of the reasons for the
unexpected loyalty shown to the central authorities by Moscow's mayor,
Yury Luzhkov. Moscow will no doubt be saved; the only question is who will
pay for this, and what the cost will be for the country's economy as a
whole.
Russia's hard currency reserves are continuing to decline, and the domestic
market threatens to contract. Add to this the usual problems with agriculture
(the Soviet strategic reserve has practically been consumed, and an exceptionally
large quantity of grain will have to be bought), and it can easily be seen
that we are threatened with a new financial crisis late in the spring.
Money will be needed to buy grain on the international market; to meet
the financial obligations taken on by the authorities in the heat of the
election campaign; for investment; and to continue fighting the war. This
money simply does not exist. As a result, pressure on the rouble will increase
sharply.
In this situation, a fall in the rouble rate and increased inflation
are inevitable. The only question is how long the Central Bank will be
able to keep the situation under control.
Central Bank chief Viktor Gerashchenko is an extremely capable individual,
but he is not a magician. Most likely, he will hold out for a couple of
months, but by early summer the situation will spin out of control.
If Gerashchenko shows real genius, the rouble will collapse not in the
spring but in the autumn. For the Central Bank, this will represent an
extraordinary achievement, but the results of such a collapse will be even
worse than if it happened in the spring. In the event, a repeat of the
situation surrounding the 1998 default seems likely.
In 1998, the rouble should also have fallen in April, but was artificially
propped up. In August, it collapsed anyway, and a financial crisis was
turned into a full-scale economic catastrophe.
The difference between a 1998-style default and a new wave of inflation
lies in the fact that those who suffered from the default were importers
and the financial sector, while the “real economy" -- national producers
creating goods for the domestic market, and large numbers of exporters
-- came out ahead.
The crisis this time could be somewhat less dire, but its eventual consequences
more drastic. The coming crisis will hit the real economy, since the buying
power of the population will fall dramatically. The people who in 1998
and 1999 were able to expand their sales at the expense of foreign competitors
on the Russian market will lose everything, or at least a great deal, in
2000.
The grapes of wrath
The economic difficulties presage a new wave of social crisis. Here, we
also encounter a new and peculiar situation. In the years from 1994 to
1998 the labour movement was in total disarray. Where was the point in
striking, if the enterprises were idle in any case?
But now, in the second year of economic recovery, labour struggles have
begin to revive. Moreover, their effectiveness has risen sharply as well.
Sociological theory holds that workers' actions tend to rise during
an improving market conjuncture, and to decline when the market is contracting.
The class struggle reaches its peak at the point of transition from upswing
to decline. At such times, the movement still has the momentum from its
period on the offensive, but at the same time is encountering new sources
of discontent.
To put this more concretely, it is one thing when people are used to
not receiving their wages for six months, but it is something quite different
when they have grown used to receiving their wages on time, and payments
again cease. The latter situation arouses far greater anger.
When masses of people start doing one and the same thing at different
ends of the country, there is a temptation to invoke conspiracy theories.
This will be the case with labour struggles as well.
There will be searches for agitators, and efforts to discover which
of the oligarchs has been putting money into workers' protests. In reality,
the conspiracies are all woven within the Kremlin and round about it.
Controlling large masses of people through such methods is impossible.
In the absence of the notorious subjective factor, either embodied in a
“vanguard party", or simply in the form of a workers' party, the processes
will most likely prove completely ungovernable.
At the risk of seeming repetitious, it must again be stressed that the
resources of patience of the Russian masses are limited, and more than
likely, are close to exhaustion. There is little point in making predictions
here, since people's behaviour cannot be calculated in detail even by the
most subtle psychologists.
It can be stated with certainty, however, that there are extremely unpleasant
surprises awaiting the authorities here. It is only a question of time.
Ultimately, everything boils down to the question of whether the labour
movement will succeed in organising itself as a political force.
Gennady Zyuganov's Communist Party of the Russian Federation (KPRF)
has few attractions for workers, as has been shown in numerous elections.
Nevertheless, it is one thing to get angry, and quite another to get organised.
Giving effective support to the war and to Putin, the KPRF will continue
to be discredited, but Zyuganov's party is extraordinarily durable, and
so long as it fills the space of the official left opposition, it prevents
the left movement from really becoming established. The viability of the
KPRF, in other words, is a crucially important resource for Putin.
If the situation is destabilised here as well, things will become truly
lamentable for the Kremlin.