Preface

This book has been long in the making, although relatively short in the writing. Russia and its future has always been a central preoccupation of my academic as well as personal life. From the early years when I studied history at the London School of Economics (LSE) and then when I undertook doctoral studies at the Centre for Russian and East European Studies (CREES) at the University of Birmingham, and also when I studied and then worked in Moscow for over two years, Russia and its problems have been a daily concern. To live in Moscow in the early 1980s was to witness an empire in decline. The stultifying attempts at imposing conformity, the pervasive surveillance and arrests, the food and consumer goods shortages, the visible signs of a society ravaged by alcohol consumption, all testified to the exhaustion of what had once presented itself as an alternative model of modernity. With Mikhail Gorbachev’s arrival in the Kremlin in March 1985 hopes were raised that long-delayed reforms and greater openness would finally be achieved. They were, but instead of creating a more dynamic and revived socialist system, the Soviet Union was reformed out of existence.

In its nearly three decades of independent existence since the disintegration of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics (USSR) in December 1991, Russia has confronted the political, social and economy legacy of the Soviet attempt to build a communist alternative. It has done this while trying to build a capitalist market democracy and while creating a new state and forging a new national identity. The enormity of the task is staggering, and is still far from over – to the degree that such processes are ever complete. In addition, Russia’s relations with the rest of the world played an important part in shaping domestic reconstitution. The emerging pattern of elite political and economic power, shaped in part by the Soviet and even pre-Soviet legacy, influenced the way that Russia relates to the external environment and, in the end, traditional patterns of confrontation were revived. There was to be no smooth passage to competitive market democracy at home or integration into the global economy and dominant power system abroad. The eternal ‘Russian question’ of identity and autonomy of civilizational experience re-emerged in sharp forms. For much of Russia’s post-communist elite, socialized in the idea of Soviet and Tsarist exceptionalism, the idea of joining Western institutions as a subordinate power proved simply impossible. On the other side, the Western powers are simply mystified as to why Russia could not take its place in the expanding ‘liberal international order’ as a worthy member of this community of democracy and progress.

The offer was there, and it was a genuine one. However, for Russia, ultimately the sticking point was the prefix: the ‘US-led’ liberal international order. Status concerns and worries that this ‘order’ ultimately was not so ordered led to a deterioration in relations. The crisis over Georgia in 2008 and Ukraine in 2014, the imposition of sanctions in that year, which have become progressively tougher, and Russia’s status as an outcast from the West, have now become realities. This accelerated Russia’s long-term ‘turn to the East’, and Russia and China have now forged an alignment that is unprecedented in its depth and scope. Enduring tensions with the West and the opening up of Russia’s horizons towards the East now shape Russia’s immediate future. However, while Russia’s orientation on Eurasia and the East are important, Russia’s future will ultimately be determined by the dynamic interaction of the Eastern and Western vectors.

Domestic factors of course will be crucial. The constitution adopted in December 1993, after a long period of turmoil that brought the country to the brink of civil war, represented the culmination of aspirations for genuine constitutional governance. The document is both liberal and democratic, although granting the presidency perhaps excessive powers. The 1990s under Boris Yeltsin was one of unprecedented freedom in which the institutions of liberal democracy were established, and the rudiments of a capitalist economy were created. This was also a period of catastrophic social hardship, anarchic governance and the accumulation of power and property by a small group of insiders who came to be known as ‘oligarchs’. Vladimir Putin was the nominee of some of their leading representatives, but soon after coming to power in 2000 he set out on his own course, rebuilding the power of the state, taming what he perceived to be unruly business leaders, regional governors and civil society activists. He established what has come to be known as ‘managed democracy’. The Putin years are distinguished by the emphasis on Russia’s status and sovereignty at home and abroad.

According to Vladislav Surkov, the former deputy head of the Presidential Administration responsible for domestic strategy, Russia faces ‘one hundred years of solitude’. He stressed that ‘Solitude does not mean complete isolation’, but Russia’s openness would be limited in the future. In his view Russia had a ‘mixed breed’ culture incorporating elements of the East and the West: ‘He is everyone’s relative, but nobody’s family’. It was now up to Russia whether it became ‘a loner in a backwater’, or ‘an alpha nation that has surged into a big lead’ over other countries.1 Russia would have to find its own path to the future and rely on itself to develop. For Russian nativists this is only to be welcomed, putting an end to the illusion that a country of Russia’s size, civilization and history could simply join the ranks of the medium-sized powers such as Britain and France as a subordinate element in the existing world order. For liberals (the term covers a wide spectrum of views, but they are united in an internationalist perspective), such ‘solitude’ will be disastrous, and they recommend finding a way towards reconciliation with the West. Many believe that the problem lies in Putin’s leadership, but his re-election for a presumably final six-year term in 2018 means that Russia’s immediate future will be shaped by his preferences. Although Putin is one of Russia’s most consequential leaders, the problems and challenges facing the country are far deeper than that. Any new leader will face the same problem of reconciling the many different views of Russia’s future and negotiating the treacherous foreign policy waters. In fact, one of the main themes of this book is that there is no single view of the way that Russia should go, and it is this absence of consensus which in part allowed Putin and his ‘centrist’ group to dominate for so long.

Russia’s future is shaped by long-term historical and cultural factors, by sociological and economic realities, by some fundamental ideological cleavages within society about what sort of Russia is desirable, by the absence of consensus on Russia’s place in the world, and by a political elite that has been able to manage constitutional constraints to perpetuate its own power. In this context, views on Russia’s future veer from the apocalyptic to the benign. My own view is that any discussion of Russia’s futures needs to be rooted in an appreciation of the country’s past and its present social and political configuration, as well as an understanding not only of the larger international arena in which the future will be shaped, but also some of the deeper process shaping our era. I also believe that there is a deep underlying societal pressure for genuine constitutionalism and public accountability, the rule of law, defensible property rights, good relations with the West (but not on any terms), free and equal citizenship, and competitive elections. All this can be achieved within the framework of the present constitutional order.

Although the word ‘democracy’ in Russian public consciousness is tainted by its association with the bacchanalia of the 1990s, these features in effect comprise democracy. The question, then, is whether Russia can achieve an evolutionary shift to democracy, or whether it is fated once again to endure a systemic breakdown. The experiences of 1917 and 1991 suggest that revolutions do open up new vistas for social and political development, but at enormous cost in lives and institutional development. In short, can Russia manage the change from managed to liberal democracy without another revolution? Other outcomes, of course, are possible, including a more consolidated authoritarian system, accompanied by isolationism and greater domestic repression. Another possible future is a burgeoning Sino-Russia alignment that creates a thriving alternative international order to that dominated by the traditional Western powers. The emergence of such an order would restore balance and multipolarity in international affairs. Such a system, feasibly, would be no less rules-based, but it would no longer be the West adjudicating on the rules.

While the past is open to interpretation, the present to contestation, the future belongs to us all. I am grateful to Polity Press, and in particular my editor Louise Knight, for the opportunity to think through these issues. Louise has been unfailingly supportive and constructive in what has turned out to a particularly tricky assignment. I am also thankful to Louise’s assistant, Nekane Tanaka Galdos, whose bright...