The
Coming Russian Collapse
Russian
President Vladimir Putin used to seem invincible. Today, he and his regime look
enervated, confused, and desperate. Increasingly, both Russian and Western
commentators suggest that Russia may be on the verge of deep instability, possibly
even collapse.
This
perceptual shift is unsurprising. Last year, Russia was basking in the glow of its annexation of Crimea
and aggression in the Donbas. The economy, although stagnant, seemed stable.
Putin was running circles around Western policymakers and domestic critics. His
popularity was sky-high. Now it is only his popularity that remains; everything
else has turned for the worse.
Crimea and the Donbas are economic hellholes and huge drains on Russian
resources. The war with Ukraine has stalemated. Energy prices are collapsing,
and the Russian economy is in recession. Putin’s punitive economic measures
against Ukraine, Turkey, and the West have only harmed the Russian economy
further. Meanwhile, the country’s intervention in Syria is poised to become a quagmire.
Things are
probably much worse for Russia than this cursory survey of negative trends suggests. The country is weathering three crises
brought about by Putin’s rule—and Russia’s foreign-policy misadventures in
Ukraine and Syria are only exacerbating them.
First, the
Russian economy is in free fall. That oil and gas prices are unlikely
to rise much anytime soon is bad enough. Far worse, Russia’s energy-dependent
economy is unreformed, uncompetitive, and un-modernized and will
remain so as long as it serves as a wealth-producing machine for Russia’s
political elite.
Second, Putin’s political system is disintegrating. His brand
of authoritarian centralization was supposed to create a strong “power
vertical” that would bring order to the administrative apparatus, rid it of
corruption, and subordinate regional Russian and non-Russian elites to Moscow’s
will. Instead, over-centralization has produced the opposite effect,
fragmenting the bureaucracy, encouraging bureaucrats to pursue their own
interests, and enabling regional elites to become increasingly insubordinate—with
Ramzan Kadyrov, Putin’s
strongman in Chechnya, being the prime
example.
Third, Putin himself, as the linchpin of the Russian system, has
clearly passed his prime. Since his catastrophic decision to prevent Ukraine
from signing an Association Agreement with the European Union in 2013, he has committed strategic blunder after
strategic blunder. His formerly attractive macho image is wearing thin, and his
recent attempts to promote his cult of personality by publishing a book of
his quotes and a Putin calendar look laughable
and desperate.
The problem for Putin—and for
Russia—is that the political–economic system is resistant to change. Such a dysfunctional economy is sustainable
only if it is controlled by a self-serving bureaucratic caste that
places its own interests above those of the country. In turn, a deeply corrupt
authoritarian system needs to have a dictator at its core, one who coordinates
and balances elite interests and appetites. Putin’s innovation is to have
transformed himself into a cult-like figure whose legitimacy depends on his
seemingly boundless youth and vigor.
Such leaders, though, eventually become
victims of their own personality cult and, like Stalin, Hitler, Mao, and
Mussolini, do not leave office voluntarily. Russia is thus trapped between the
Scylla of systemic decay and the Charybdis of systemic stasis. Under such
conditions, Putin will draw increasingly on Russian chauvinism, imperialism,
and ethnocentrism for legitimacy.
Since none of this mess will
be resolved anytime soon, Russia appears poised to enter a prolonged “time of
troubles” that could range from social unrest to regime change to state
collapse. It might be foolhardy to predict Russia’s future, but it is clear
that the longer Putin stays in power, the worse things will be for the country.
Putin, who claimed to be saving Russia, has become its worst enemy. For now,
the United States, Europe, and Russia’s neighbors must prepare for the worst.
DRIVERS OF INSTABILITY
Some analysts dismiss the
possibility of massive instability in Russia on the grounds that the opposition
is weak, its leaders lack charisma, and Putin’s popularity is high. These
factors are not as important as they are assumed to be. Most revolutions have
come as a result of deep structural crises; few have been made by self-styled
revolutionaries. Charismatic leaders emerge in the course of systemic
instability as often as they predate it. And country-wide popularity is never
as important for a movement or leader as power in the capital city and among
key political and economic elites.
Imagine that the three crises
noted above continue to deepen, as they in all likelihood will. In that case,
nearly every sector of Russian society will get closer to rebellion. As
inflation and unemployment rise and living standards fall, dissatisfaction will grow among
workers and social unrestwill increase. Political and
economic elites, too, will grow increasingly unhappy as Russia’s three crises
deepen. Their status and wealth will increasingly become vulnerable, and
their willingness to countenance alternatives to Putin and his system will
grow. Urban intellectuals, students, and professionals will likewise rediscover
their voices and provide intellectual guidance to the forces of instability.
With more systemic chaos and
elite stasis, patriotically-minded elements within the armed forces (army,
militia, and secret police) will search for alternatives to Putin and his ruinous
system of rule. And soldiers and mercenaries now fighting in Ukraine and Syria
may return home and promote radical views throughout the country. Outside
Russia, the Russian Federation’s 21 non-Russian republics will assert their
authority.
For 18 years,
Putin could defuse discontent by the three means all elites use to stay in
power. He bought popular support with the windfalls from rising energy prices.
He strengthened the forces of coercion and repressed discontent. And, by
projecting manliness and vigor and promising to remake Russia in his own image,
he created ideological incentives to support him and his regime.
Thanks to his
mistakes and the system’s decay, however, Putin no longer has the material
resources he once possessed and his image has been greatly tarnished. And
thanks to Russia’s transformation into a rogue state incapable of defeating
Ukraine and increasingly mired in the Middle East, the vision of renewed
Russian greatness is losing its appeal. As a result, Putin now relies almost exclusively
on the forces of coercion to stay in power and sustain his regime. He thus
depends on their willingness to go along with his rule. And Putin, whose regime
recently adopted legislation permitting the
secret police to shoot protestors, knows it.
FORCING THE FORCES
Relying on the armed forces
could be a dangerous bet. For one, they might be unwilling to employ coercion
if they face large numbers of protestors drawn from the general population.
This is true for all repressive regimes, which tend to emphasize the elite
nature of policing and deploy officers far away from their homes.
Given Putin’s
popularity and the relatively greater difficulty of organizing mass protests in
the Russian provinces, the greatest likelihood of such a scenario playing out is in Moscow, which witnessed mass demonstrations in
2011–12, and in the non-Russian regions such as Tatarstan, Bashkortostan,
Yakutia, Dagestan, and Ingushetia, where ethnic solidarity could override
orders to use coercion. If women and workers participate in such disturbances,
coercive forces would be least inclined to follow orders and shoot.
At present, such a revolution
looks improbable; but in mid-2004 and mid-2013, no one was predicting the
Orange Revolution or the Euromaidan Revolution in Ukraine. Such revolutions, as
Putin probably realizes, are intrinsically unpredictable, because they are the
product of inchoate forces of discontent, dissatisfaction, anger,
radicalization, and hope.
Even so, given the dysfunctionality of the
political–economic system and its incapacity to change, the chances of such
disturbances will increase with every year. The protests are likely to be
sparked by a sudden, unexpected event that outrages people and propels them
into the streets. That shock could be anything, from an embarrassing televised
slip-up by Putin to an act of brutality by the police to a tragic fire. No one
ever predicts such shocks, but, as systems decay, they become more likely.
Another scenario would be if
the armed forces are unable to stop elite anti-regime forces from plotting a
palace coup or promoting independence in the non-Russian regions. Although
Putin has constructed a form of authoritarianism that resembles the regimes of
Nazi Germany and Mussolini’s Italy, Russia’s forces of coercion are not yet, as
in Stalin’s times, a state within the state capable of monitoring all elite
behavior.
The loyalty or neutrality of Russia’s elites cannot therefore be
entirely assured. Russian elites know that, like Mikhail Khodorkovsky, the
Russian businessman-turned-opposition figure who incurred Putin’s ire and
several years imprisonment for fraud, they could be punished for stepping out
of line, but they also know that, in times of troubles, the Kremlin needs them
as much as, if not more, than they need the Kremlin.
How likely is a palace coup or
regional separatism? Soviet and Russian history is replete with examples. After
Stalin’s death, his successors killed his secret police chief, Lavrentii Beria,
in 1953. In 1964, Nikita Khrushchev was ousted in a coup. In 1998–99, Putin
came to power as the result of a coup-like deal with elites and then President
Boris Yeltsin.
As to the non-Russians, they made claims on sovereignty every
time the state was in crisis—during the Revolution of 1917–21, during the
German occupation of 1941–43, and during Mikhail Gorbachev’s perestroika in
1987–91. Elite loyalty depends on Putin’s ability to pay them off. Just as
political and economic elites flocked to Putin during the years of plenty,
between 1998 and 2013, so too, will they be tempted to abandon him during the
coming years of scarcity.
Meanwhile, non-Russian elites—and especially those in
oil-rich Tatarstan and diamond-rich
Yakutia—may be the first to loosen their ties to Moscow, because they
may have nationalist ambitions, and are farther from the center and thus less
susceptible to threats. Once elites see that they can get away with criticizing
the regime, things will reach a tipping point and anti-Putin bandwagoning could
take place. Some may even plot against Putin and try to have him forcibly
removed or killed.
The third scenario is that
coercion might prove inadequate to quell discontent if the opposition resorts
to violence and the armed forces are too weak to respond. Armies that lose wars
or experience battlefield humiliation are prone to such weaknesses. The Russian
army is currently involved in two wars—in Ukraine and in Syria.
Additional
incursions, in the Baltic States or in Central Asia, may also be in the offing, as
Putin tries to sow disarray within NATO and protect Russia from the Islamic
State (also known as ISIS). Despite Russia’s formidable advantages, the Russian
war against Ukraine has ended, thus far, in the annexation of two economically
destitute regions, Crimea and the eastern Donbas, with little hope of rapid
recovery.
More important, Moscow’s New Russia project, which aimed at annexing
all of Ukraine’s southeast, has failed. In sum, despite several tactical
victories, the Russian armed forces have suffered defeat.
Victory in Syria appears
equally distant, even as the prospect of additional involvement grows. Sooner
or later, Russia’s humiliated and defeated soldiers and mercenaries will come
home, and their anger is likely to be directed against the regime that sent
them into losing fights.
Domestic police and armed forces are unlikely to crack
down on discontent soldiers. Complicating matters is the growing likelihood of
renewed terrorism in Russia. Chechnya could easily blow up if Kadyrov is
replaced in a local palace coup or assassinated by the Russian secret service,
which reputedly detests him. Much of the north Caucasus is already in a state
of half-open rebellion. Russia’s Syrian adventure and its open alliance against
Sunnis may not only exacerbate tensions with Russia’s Sunni population, but
also provoke ISIS to engage in terror in Russia proper.
How likely is it that armed
forces might prove inadequate to quell discontent? The First Chechen War of
1994–96 demonstrates that the Russian armed forces can be defeated. The
Ukrainian War demonstrates that the Russian army and mercenaries can be held at
bay by a significantly weaker force. The series of terrorist actions that
befell Russia in the early years of Putin’s rule show that Russia is vulnerable
to violent assaults. It is impossible to say just when anti-regime violence
might break out, but the likelihood that it will grows as the
political–economic system decays, and as mass disturbances and elite discontent
rise.
AFTER THE STORM
Russia is on the edge of a
perfect storm, as destabilizing forces converge. Under conditions such as
these, mass disturbances are highly probable. Revolutions, palace coups, and
violence will be increasingly likely. The result could be the collapse of the
regime or the break-up of the state. Whatever
the scenario, Putin is unlikely to survive.
What should
the West and Russia’s neighbors do? They cannot stop Putin and they cannot
prevent Russia’s disintegration, just as they could not prevent the USSR’s
disintegration. The best option is containing the damage that results from mass
instability. In particular, they will have to worry about mass refugee flows,
the spillover of violence, and the problem of loose nukes.
The non-Russian
states will be able to deal with the first two issues only by strengthening
their own state borders, armies, police forces, and administrative apparatuses.
The West must view them (Belarus,
Ukraine, and Kazakhstan,
in particular) as allies or client states whose stability and security are
vital to the stability and security of the West. After that, the West should
support a stable pro-Western democracy in what remains of post-Putin Russia.
Western policymakers will be tempted to support the Russian armed forces,
especially after mass instability breaks out.
That would be counterproductive:
In a lost cause, supporting the forces of coercion will only prolong the
fighting, bloodshed, and instability and thereby increase the likelihood that
loose nukes will fall into the wrong hands.
Sooner or
later, Russia’s time of troubles will end. After the dust settles, a smaller
and weaker Russia and a host of newly independent non-Russian
regions-turned-states might make for a more stable world, at least inasmuch as
Putin’s Russia, which has become a major threat to world peace, will have
disappeared and rump Russia may finally abandon the imperial aspirations that
enabled Putin to come to power.
Whatever the
outcome, the best immediate guarantee of stability and security in the
post-Putin, post-Soviet space will be Russia’s current non-Russian neighbors,
in particular, Ukraine, Kazakhstan, and Belarus. If they are strong, much of
the damage will be contained. If they become weak, the damage will spread to
the West. The best time to strengthen them is now—before the deluge.
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