THE WAR in the Balkans has succeeded in one respect: It has
revealed the scale of anti-American feeling in Russian society, especially
among younger people. The reason does not lie in solidarity with "brother
Slavs" and still less in the Orthodox faith-most young people in Russia
do not even know how to cross themselves properly. The war in Yugoslavia
simply gave them the chance to express what they had already been thinking
for a long time.
For young people, the free market reforms
dictated by Washington have meant a shortage of good jobs, expensive but
nevertheless third-rate education, and the lack of career prospects. Since
the end of the Soviet Union, Russia has been making one-sided concessions
to Washington in exchange for promises that we would be accepted into the
"civilized world" (as though we had previously been savages and
barbarians). But instead we received only poverty, humiliation, and
economic collapse.
After NATO's bombing of Yugoslavia began,
Russians splattered the American consulate in Moscow with rotten eggs and
paint bombs. A turning point had been reached. People had grown tired of
feeling helpless, of being humiliated, of being ashamed of themselves.
They wanted to act.
The failure of the Americans in the Balkans
became the subject of jokes, and Russian computer hackers began assaults
on official sites in the United States to the accompaniment of sympathetic
reports in the press. One tabloid devoted a front page to portraits of
Clinton and Milosevic, with the caption A Prison Cell Is Hungry for Them.
Another published a puzzle in which readers were required to determine, on
the basis of egg stains, which of the windows of the US Embassy were in
the cross-hairs of a gun-sight. A correspondent in the Balkans for the
liberal Novaya Gazeta admitted that he dreamed of the Russian Black
Sea Fleet sailing to the Adriatic, even though he acknowledged that this
would mean war.
Yevgeny Primakov, Russia's prime minister
for eight months until Boris Yeltsin dismissed him on May 12, caught the
change of mood expertly. He won massive support for his decision to turn
his aircraft around over the Atlantic and return to Moscow rather than
meet with the Clinton Administration as it began its war against
Yugoslavia.
He also departed from the absolute devotion
to the free market, which has so marked the Yeltsin period. His power
rested on the managers of military-industrial enterprises that had
remained within the state sector, and which therefore had not collapsed
like privatized industry. In conducting negotiations with the
International Monetary Fund (IMF) on writing off part of Russia's debt,
the Primakov government created an important precedent for debtor
countries.
Yeltsin appointed Primakov under duress as
a crisis gripped the country last August when the economy crashed. The
political problem was not simply that no free market politician had
sufficient support to take over the running of the government. The main
thing was that no one wanted to take on the job. Ministerial candidates
were regarded as political suicide cases.
The Primakov government managed to limit
the acuteness of the crisis. The threatened catastrophe did not occur;
hunger was avoided; the ruble was stabilized; and the economy even began
to record a little growth. Wages began to be paid more promptly. Though
the government was systematically slandered in the press, its popularity
increased steadily.
Precisely because of this, the
determination in the Kremlin to be rid of the premier began to grow.
Primakov's popularity was posing a threat to the Kremlin, which was losing
control of the levers of political power. And he was gaining momentum to
take more decisive steps. Talk began to be heard of nationalizing part of
the oil industry, and a number of large enterprises themselves asked to be
reabsorbed into the state sector. At the same time, Primakov took measures
to halt the plunder of the country's resources by the oligarchs who
controlled most of the private sector.
Every success recorded by the Primakov
government meant increased fears for the oligarchs. In the Kremlin,
leading officials of the presidential apparatus understood perfectly that
the existing situation could not continue. The situation of dual power had
to be brought to an end. The government of the left-center had done what
it was charged with doing; now the time had come for it to
depart.
It was at precisely this moment that Victor
Chernomyrdin reappeared on the political scene as President Yeltsin's
special representative on Yugoslavia. Why such a representative should be
needed is not altogether clear. The entire foreign ministry is now
occupied almost exclusively with the Balkan crisis. Foreign Minister Igor
Ivanov, like Primakov, is an experienced diplomat with an intimate
knowledge of the situation. By contrast, Chernomyrdin has never had
anything to do with the Balkans, and has no diplomatic experience. Even
when prime minister, he showed little interest in foreign policy, which
was handled by the president's team. Meanwhile, Chernomyrdin has a solid
reputation in Russia as someone who invariably brings ruin to any
enterprise in which he becomes involved-though not, it is true, without
benefits for himself.
Until recently, we in Russia
considered muddleheadedness and
incompetence to be our unique national
traits. Now we see that the world leader
is no better. Consequently, we find cause
to regard ourselves with more self-respect.
RUSSIA IS A STRANGE COUNTRY where impending coups d'état are discussed in
public, and their dates are all but officially set. In the spring of 1993
Yeltsin promised to carry out a coup the following autumn, and he kept his
word, dismissing and then shelling parliament (which Washington approved
of). This time, Yeltsin kept silent. But in early May the Moscow press was
full of forecasts of a coming coup, and in the pages of the newspapers
influential politicians were discussing when it would take place. The
rightwing politician Alexander Shokhin even named a date: The government
would be dismissed on May 13.
Formally speaking, the reason for the
crisis was the debate in the Duma on whether to impeach President Yeltsin.
In reality, everyone understood perfectly that under the present
constitution, removing the president from office was, for practical
purposes, impossible. But by raising the question of impeachment, the
Communist majority in the Duma gave Yeltsin a pretext to launch a
political counterattack.
Primakov called on the deputies to reject a
vote on impeachment or to transfer it to another date, as had already been
done once. But by this time the deputies-and, in particular, the
Communist Party-found that retreat was impossible: If they tried it, they
would simply seem laughable. Moreover, a section of the leadership of the
Communist Party was clearly ready to abandon the Primakov cabinet. The
premier's quickly growing popularity was irritating not only to the
Kremlin, but also to many leaders of the opposition.
On May 12, almost precisely in line with
the plans published in the newspapers, Yeltsin dismissed the Primakov
government. Within a week, the Duma confirmed a new prime minister-Sergei
Stepashin, formerly the interior minister and head of the country's
police. Yeltsin and the oligarchs had prevailed again.
The eight months of Primakov's rule have
now come to an end. During this period Russia for the first time had a
government that could seriously be described as social democratic. It was
social democratic not in the manner of England's Tony Blair and Germany's
Gerhard Schröder, but in the traditional sense. In technical respects,
this government was competent and effective, but politically it did not go
far enough. Following the August crisis, when the oligarchs were
demoralized and on the verge of bankruptcy, their power could have been
undermined, and the oil companies and banks nationalized. Primakov could
have used his time in office to broaden his government's political base
and to mobilize its supporters. Nothing of the kind was done.
On the contrary, the government began to
retreat as soon as it felt itself under threat. Had Primakov's cabinet
survived, it might have forced through the Duma a number of draft laws
designed to gratify the IMF. For the sake of keeping a left-centrist
government in power, the parliamentary majority was prepared to sacrifice
even the interests of the people who had elected it. Primakov, in turn,
would have had to take responsibility for unpopular measures implemented
under IMF pressure. The Western bankers were demanding tax increases,
which already had almost crushed the Russian economy. And the IMF insisted
on cuts in education, medicine, culture, and even assistance to people
made invalids by the Chernobyl nuclear disaster. The Kremlin's wish to be
rid of the "left" government, however, began even to outweigh its desire
to please the IMF.
Now that Primakov has been sacked and will
not get to perform the dirty work of impoverishing his own population for
the benefit of the IMF, the population will be left with the myth of an
upstanding leftwing government that tried to defend the interests of the
people, and which was thrown out of office as a result. Like all myths,
this one does not correspond completely to reality. It was created,
however, by Yeltsin himself.
If Primakov remains among the heroes, the
Communist Party, which could not and did not wish to defend the
"government of the left", will be still more discredited. Even before
Primakov was sacked, his prestige was significantly greater than that of
the deputies and party leaders. Now the gap will become still greater, and
the Communist deputies will sooner or later have to answer unpleasant
questions from their electors. The impeachment effort failed. Primakov was
abandoned. Conceivably, this could mark the beginning of a new epoch for
the Russian left.
YELTSIN, MEANWHILE, has not won a great deal. As usual, he
has defeated his rivals, but what is to happen next? The new government
will either have to continue with Primakov's policies or turn the wheel to
the right. In the latter case, we can expect the social crisis to become
dramatically worse, along perhaps with a repetition of the August
financial crash. This is hardly likely to strengthen the positions of the
IMF substantially.
Yeltsin needs guarantees that the West will
help solve his problems. After all, things do not always happen as simply
and smoothly as you hope. Mass disturbances and even uprisings may occur;
the deputies might refuse to disperse. Force might have to be used. So it
is essential for Yeltsin to keep the approval of the West-and receive as
much material aid as possible.
To ingratiate himself, Yeltsin has been
more than willing to try to help extricate Clinton and NATO from the mess
they got themselves into.
The American administration must somehow
extract itself from the Yugoslav crisis without losing face. The Kremlin
can put pressure on Belgrade, trying to make the Yugoslav leadership more
compliant, at least to the point where Clinton has something to present to
public opinion in his own country.
The agreement on Yugoslavia adopted by the
foreign ministers of the leading NATO countries and Russia in early May
did not immediately solve anything either, but gave the West a chance to
retrieve its position. The Kremlin now had the opportunity to exert
pressure on Belgrade without provoking too much displeasure within Russia
itself, since the agreement provided a certain role both for the United
Nations and for Russia. The document also spoke of preserving the
territorial integrity of Yugoslavia. The momentum, however, was stalled by
the NATO pilots who, with three well-aimed salvos, hit the Chinese Embassy
in Belgrade.
A wave of anti-American protests rolled
across China, and anti-US moods again became inflamed. In Russia, it was
once again clear to everyone that, as we say, "the devil is not as
fearsome as he is painted". The United States, with all its might, has
been unable in the space of two months to deal with tiny Serbia. At the
same time, the United States-to quote one of the pro-Western Duma
deputies-has shown "total irresponsibility and incompetence".
So why, then, should we in vast Russia be
so scared of the Americans? Until recently, we in Russia considered
muddleheadedness and incompetence to be our unique national traits. Now we
see that the world leader is no better. Consequently, we find cause to
regard ourselves with more self-respect.
If the Kremlin analysts are wondering how
to help the United States escape from its Yugoslav crisis with the fewest
possible losses, Russian public opinion wants to see the US punished for
treating international law and Russians-and everyone else-with
contempt.
THE TIME OF YELTSIN and his cronies is coming to an end. Here we are
not talking merely about his presidency, which is supposed to last until
the year 2000. His term in office can be prolonged. Nor does the problem
lie in his declining health, though sooner or later nature will exact its
due. The trouble is in the complete bankruptcy of the neoliberal economic
model, in Russia and throughout the world. It was the forced recognition
by the Kremlin of this fact that brought Primakov to power last September.
Now an illusory normalization has appeared, but a return to the old
policies will very quickly lead to a repetition of the same
crises.
The outcome, however, may be different
because the mood of the country has changed. People are no longer willing
simply to be victims. The deputies, learning from the experience of 1993,
have not put up any particular resistance. The government has submitted to
the president's decision. But millions of people in Russia are little
concerned with the constitutional powers of the president. They simply
hate Yeltsin and his American protectors. As a result, events could take
an unexpected turn.
Many revolutions have begun with attempts
by the old authorities to replace a moderate reformist government. The
upshot has then been that society has relatively quickly acquired new
leaders-far more radical ones.
Copyright 1999 The Progressive
