By OWEN MATTHEWS
Olympics,
plots, purges and late-summer dread descend on Moscow.
MOSCOW — August in Moscow is a season of brooding heat
broken by sudden rainstorms, of bathing in chilly rivers and experiencing pangs
of regret for a summer that never quite happened.
Also, it’s Russia’s
traditional season of disaster.
The hard-line coup attempt that brought the fall of
Communism in 1991, the default and financial collapse in 1998, the start of the
second Chechen war in 1999, the sinking of the Kursk submarine in 2000,
Russia’s invasion of Georgia in 2008, the hydro-electric dam bursting in 2009,
devastating wildfires in 2010, catastrophic floods in 2011 — all happened in
August.
Russians call it the
“Curse of August” — though apophenia, the tendency to perceive meaningful
patterns within random data, may really be what’s at play.
Cursed or not, August
2016 is certainly brimming with menace, brought on by a Kremlin purge, a
rising drumbeat of accusations against Ukraine and an Olympic atmosphere
in Moscow that’s a febrile mixture of wounded pride and belligerence.
As Russia gets hammered
in the medal stakes by the U.S. and China, winning athletes are described by
state television as having “manfully fended off accusations of doping by the
Russophobic international sports establishment.” At the same time, the total
ban on Russian athletes proposed by the World Anti-Doping Association —
overturned at the last minute by the International Olympic Committee — is
described as an American plot.
I was recently invited
to appear as a guest on Channel One’s “Special Correspondent,” a news-related
chat show, where I sat through two hours of increasingly wild theories linking
the Olympic doping ban to a Western conspiracy to punish Russia for its
“independent” stance in international affairs.
“Tell us, Owen, do you
agree that the Olympic ban is payback for our having taken Crimea?” barked the
quick-talking presenter Evgeny Popov. “Russia defied Washington’s hegemony and
now its time for us to be punished?”
Then, on Friday, Sergei
Ivanov, a former KGB officer and long-time Putin ally, was removed from his post
as head of the Presidential Administration and replaced by his deputy, Andrei
Vaino, a minor apparatchik who made his way up in the Kremlin protocol service.
Ivanov’s sacking is part of a pattern. Russian
President Vladimir Putin has consolidated his personal rule, purging long-time
political allies in favor of young, faceless, but utterly loyal bureaucrats.
Earlier this year, Putin
appointed two former bodyguards as the governors of the Tula and Kalinigrad
regions, and he placed his former personal bodyguard, Viktor Zolotov, in charge
of the powerful National Guard, a newly-formed law enforcement organ composed
of 250,000 armed men and directly answerable to the Kremlin.
“Putin is purging old
friends and replacing them with servants,” Kremlin-connected analyst Stanislav
Belkovsky told fontanka.ru. “These people reminded [Putin] of a time before he
was a boss, let alone President … Now he needs executors, not advisers.” In
other words, Putin is removing anybody capable of standing up to him.
This latest purge
followed days of amped-up rhetoric directed at Ukraine. Last week Russia’s
Federal Security Service, or FSB, claimed to have captured several Ukrainian
special forces saboteurs carrying arms and explosives after a firefight near
the Russian-occupied Crimean border village of Armyansk. Two more exchanges of
fire along the de-facto border followed, according to the FSB, and Russia’s
Kremlin-controlled media have been whipping up war mania by accusing
Ukrainians of preparing to destabilize and possibly invade the occupied
peninsula.
“Kiev is not searching for paths to negotiations, but
is moving to terror,” Putin told reporters. “Two soldiers died in the course of
preventing terrorist attacks in Crimea. We cannot let this pass.”
Video footage broadcast
by Russian State TV on 12 August showed one of the prisoners, Ukrainian citizen
Yevgeny Panov from Zaporizhia, making a full confession after more than a week
in Russian custody.
“I was invited to Kiev
to take part in a sabotage group,” Panov — whose face was bruised and cut —
told an interrogator in footage released by the FSB. “All the members of this
group were officers of the Ukrainian Ministry of Defense’s Main Intelligence
Directorate.”
He went on to name his
alleged accomplices and confessed to touring Crimean towns to scope out
potential targets for terror attacks.
Ukraine quickly denied
taking part in any such plots. “FSB made another hoax,” tweeted Deputy Prime
Minister Ivanna Klympush.
Nonetheless, pro-Kremlin bloggers and Russian media
have lost no time in accusing Ukrainian President Petro Poroshenko of
sponsoring terror and urging Russia to push back in self-defense.
“Kiev is not doing
anything for peace, but is openly preparing for war,” blogged Alexei Chesnakov,
a former Kremlin political adviser. “What’s the point of talking to Poroshenko?
He’s always lying.”
Is this a prelude to
another Russian military campaign? During the intense fighting in the summer of
2014 between Ukrainian forces and Russian-backed rebels in Donesk and Lugansk,
there was talk of creating a land corridor between Crimea and Russia.
But so far at least,
there’s one important indication that such a move is not on the Kremlin’s
agenda: its attack dogs in the media haven’t yet been ordered to lay the
information ground-work for such an offensive.
“So far we’re just
pouring [criticism] on Poroshenko, who is a terrorist who has been caught
red-handed,” says one senior Russian TV news executive who spoke on condition
of anonymity. “There’s been no instruction to prepare any information platform
for a defensive operation by our troops.”
Prior to all previous military adventures — from the
invasion of Georgia in 2008 to the Crimean invasion of March 2014 — the
Kremlin’s first move was to carpet-bomb Russian television viewers with propaganda
highlighting the suffering of the peoples of South Ossetia, Abkhazia and
Crimea. This time around, there’s been no such telegraphing.
More likely, the
Kremlin’s aims are smaller-bore. Whether a real, if incompetent, attempt at
subversion by Kiev or an elaborate FSB invention, the alleged Ukrainian terror
plot gives Putin a neat excuse to pull out of an upcoming meeting with the
so-called Normandy group of Western nations.
The Normandy group —
formed in 2015 in order to implement a peace agreement in Ukraine
and comprising Ukraine, Russia, France and Germany — was scheduled to meet
on September 4-5 at a G20 summit in China. Now, says Putin, it makes “no sense
under current circumstances” to have the meeting. By scuppering Normandy, Putin
has effectively ducked criticism over his violations of the Minsk-2
ceasefire agreement singed by Russia last year that require the withdrawal of
all Russian troops and armor from Ukraine and a return of control of the border
to Kiev — none of which has been implemented.
Putin is also fighting
hard to remove crippling economic sanctions imposed on Russia by the US and the
EU in the wake of the downing of Malaysian Airlines flight MH17 by a
surface-to-air missile supplied by Russia to Ukrainian rebels in July 2014.
Using his time-honored
tactic of divide and conquer, Putin has been courting several European nations,
including right-wing Hungarian President Viktor Orbán, with offers of cheap gas
and nuclear power deals. With French conservatives and German industrialists
arguing against continued sanctions, the European consensus is cracking. Making
Poroshenko out to be a sponsor of terror is an important way to distract from
ongoing fighting in the Donbass — and widen Europe’s divisions even further.
There’s another upside
for Putin in creating a climate of fear in Crimea. In recent weeks there
have been signs that Russia’s grip on its proxies in Eastern Ukraine and Crimea
has been slipping.
Last month, Igor
Plotnitsky, the head of the self-declared Luhansk People’s Republic, was
injured after a roadside bomb went off as his car passed nearby. Plotnitsky
blamed Ukrainian authorities and the U.S. for the assassination attempt. But
it’s more likely that local rivals or a falling-out with his Russian handlers
were behind it.
Crimea itself has also been experiencing regular power
cuts because it is dependent on Ukraine for all of its power supply until a
multimillion dollar bridge over the Kerch Strait links it to mainland Russia.
With parliamentary
elections coming up in September, the Kremlin is keen to show that Russia’s
newest citizens in Crimea are happy with the annexation — and whipping up fear
of Kiev-sponsored terror is one way to bolster support for Putin.
Whatever is happening at
the Kremlin, the Curse of August has brought about one thing at least: A sense
of late-summer peril.
Owen Matthews has worked as a
correspondent in Russia, Turkey and Iraq, among other datelines, and was
shortlisted for a Guardian first book award, the Orwell Prize and the Prix
Médicis.
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