|
9
Russia's Search for Democracy:
The Yeltsin Era
Sooner or later, I will leave political
life. I will exit according to the rules, the Constitution, and the law. I
would definitely like to make that contribution to the history of Russia, to set
the precedent of a normal, civilized, orderly departure from politics.
Boris
Yeltsin, The Struggle for Russia
The death of the USSR gave birth to fifteen new,
independent countries-he former union republics. Russia
was left with about half the population of the former Soviet
Union, at 147 million, and three-fourths of its territory. Russia and
the other republics were still bound together by transportation links,
economic interdependency, and some common security considerations.
Independent Russia was much more homogeneous than the former Soviet Union--82 percent Russian and 18 percent various
non-Russian nationalities (see Table 9.1 ).
Of great concern to Russian nationalists was the fact that about 25 million
ethnic Russians now lived outside their homeland: 10 million of these in Ukraine, 7 million in Kazakhstan,
and the remainder scattered throughout the other newly independent states.
The Commonwealth of Independent States (CIS) wasormed late in 1991 to
preserve some political, economic, and security links among the newly
independent republics, but this organization was very weak, and optimistic
expectations that over time it might function like the European Union were
not borne out. Over the next few years the former republics of the Soviet Union would drift further apart.
Table 9.1
Major Nationalities of the Russian
Federation, 1989 (those in excess of
500,000)
|
Number
|
%
|
Russians
|
119,866,000
|
81.5
|
Tatars
|
5,522,000
|
3.8
|
Ukrainians
|
4,363,000
|
3.0
|
Chuvash
|
1,774,000
|
1.2
|
Bashkirs
|
1,345,000
|
0.9
|
Belarusians
|
1,206,000
|
0.8
|
Mordovans
|
1,073,000
|
0.7
|
Chechens
|
899,000
|
0.6
|
Germans
|
842,000
|
0.6
|
Udmurts
|
715,000
|
0.5
|
Maritsy
|
644,000
|
0.4
|
Kazakhs
|
636,000
|
0.4
|
Avars
|
544,000
|
0.4
|
Jews
|
537,000
|
0.4
|
Armenians
|
532,000
|
0.4
|
Others
|
6,524,000
|
4.4
|
Total
|
147,022,000
|
100.0
|
Source:
Figures are from the 1989 national census, in Rossiskii statisticheskii
ezhegodnik 1994
( Moscow: Goskomstat Rossii, 1994), p. 33.
|
The new Russian Federation faced several daunting
tasks. First and most pressing was the need to enact major economic
reform--privatizing the state enterprises, freeing domestic and foreign
trade, liberalizing prices, and in general creating a market economy from a
centrally planned system. Second, Russia needed to continue the
process of democratization by designing a new constitution and creating new
political institutions, a new legal system, and a democratic political
culture. Third, the economic and political transformations that followed the
collapse of communism generated pressing social problems, among them
unemployment, poverty, declining health care, and crime. Fourth, Russia had to create a new foreign policy identity to replace
the Soviet self-designated role as leader of the world communist movement.
And finally, Russia
would need a system of spiritual or philosophical values to replace the
bankrupt ideas of Marxism-Leninism. Addressing each of these issues
simultaneously is a tall order, and the process has not been a smooth one.
ECONOMIC REFORM
The first order of business in Russia was to
enact radical economic reform. President Boris Yeltsin and his acting prime
minister, Yegor Gaidar, adopted a program of "shock therapy,"
involving abrupt deregulation of prices, privatization of state-owned
enterprises, and the shift to a market economy. At first, many Russians
believed that capitalism would bring instant riches. However, freeing prices
brought about hyperinflation: 2500 percent in 1992, 840 percent in 1993, 200
percent in 1994. Many lost their savings virtually overnight, and wage
increases quickly fell behind the cost of living. Russia was inundated with a
flood of foreign goods--American Coke and Pepsi, Chinese toys and children's
clothes, German Mercedes and BMW automobiles, Japanese and Korean
electronics, British cigarettes, and Swiss chocolates. Many resented this
flood of foreign goods, particularly Snickers candy bars, which seemed to be
everywhere.
Late in 1991 Yeltsin had surrounded himself
with a group of young radical reformers who were determined to bring
capitalism to Russia
as quickly as possible--Yegor Gaidar, Anatoly Chubais, and Aleksandr Shokhin.
Foreign economists Jeffrey Sachs of Harvard and Anders Aslund of Sweden served
as advisors to the government. A program of price liberalization and
financial stabilization was enacted at the beginning of 1992, premised on
rapid transformation of the old command economy. Speed was deemed necessary
to break the hold of the old Soviet Nomenklatura, who were resisting reform,
and to achieve results before patience wore thin with the sacrifices of
reform. Politically, they reasoned, weakening the Nomenklatura would make a
return to communism impossible. In actuality, most of the new business elite,
the wealthy "New Russians," were former Communist Party and
government officials who were ideally positioned to take advantage of the
economic transition. Similarly, there was a great deal of continuity in the
political world. About four-fifths of the politicians in the Russian Congress
of People's Deputies were former Party and government officials.
The ranks of these communist-era holdovers
were augmented by ambitious, politically reformist, and entrepreneurial young
Russians.
Russia's middle-aged
elites were survivors, but certainly not innovators. In spring 1992 the
Supreme Soviet adopted a privatization program, but over strong protests. The
job of privatizing Russia's
economy was given to Anatoly Chubais, an economist and former university
professor in his thirties. In summer 1992 Chubais introduced a system of
"vouchers" giving each Russian citizen 10,000 rubles available for
investing in newly privatized companies. Given the high rate of inflation,
10,000 rubles, which in the Soviet era would have been four years' salary for
a well-paid worker, was now worth only a few dollars. Some invested their
vouchers; others sold them at a discount rate to speculators. Factory workers
and managers were given the opportunity to purchase onequarter to one-half of
their enterprise's shares; these were usually allocated based on the
employee's rank within the enterprise. Of course, that meant that factory
executives were ideally positioned to obtain the bulk of the shares, and many
became wealthy overnight.
Much of the Russian economy was privatized
within the first five years. Nearly 47,000 small businesses were privatized
in 1992 alone, and by the end of 1994 well over 100,000 enterprises had been
privatized. Small businesses employed just over 10 percent of all workers by
1996 and accounted for 11-12 percent of total production. Mid-size and large
enterprises were privatized more slowly; only 18 were auctioned off in 1992,
but by 1995 that number had risen to nearly 18,000. To placate the political
opposition, defense industries, health care systems, and other
"strategic" or sensitive enterprises were retained under state
ownership.
Very few Russian citizens became investors
in the newly privatizing economy. Russians have been very slow to buy stocks,
bonds, or mutual funds, and most distrusted banks, preferring to put their
cash under a mattress instead of depositing it in a savings account. Many
wealthy Russians did not trust their country's business environment,
preferring to invest their money in the more stable countries of Western Europe. The European Bank for Reconstruction
and Development estimates that by the mid-1990s Russians had invested $40-50
billion outside Russia,
while foreign investors were putting only $1-2 billion per year into the
Russian economy. Furthermore, Russian managers and workers were suspicious of
investment by outsiders--either foreigners or Russian mafia--and many refused
opportunities to attract much-needed capital investment for their firms.
Because of conservative management strategies many firms avoided restructuring,
which was necessary in order to turn a profit. One group of Western and
Russian economists estimates that as of 1996 three-fourths of Russia's
enterprises still needed radical restructuring to be profitable--only
one-fourth could operate profitably in the new market economy.
Even before the collapse of communism,
officials in the Communist Party, the Komsomol, and the ministries had
arranged deals with their friends and relatives to buy state and Party
property at bargain prices. These assets were then resold for huge profits,
creating millionaires virtually overnight. These New Russians acquired
foreign luxury cars, huge homes, and expensive clothes, and surrounded
themselves with beautiful young women. They frequented glitzy nightclubs and
restaurants, paying exorbitant sums for lavish meals and entertainment. Many
hired small armies of bodyguards--former police, army, or KGB agents--for
protection against competitors. Average Russians despised the newly rich and
the robber baron form of capitalism they practiced. Anatoly Chubais and Yegor
Gaidar, the architects of Russia's
market economy, were held responsible for these ills and soon became the most
hated politicians in all Russia.
For most Russians privatization meant a
decline in living standards. Beggars, usually older women, sat outside subway
stations and churches pleading for money. Street markets sprang up where
people would bring old pairs of shoes, toys, vegetables from their garden
plots, tools, books, and anything else they could sell. The more successful
sold goods out of small kiosks--newspapers, liquor, candy bars, soft drinks,
pornography, watches, fruit--and paid protection money to the ubiquitous
gangs that roamed the streets. Some hawked souvenirs for the tourist
trade-colorful scarves, matryoshka dolls, lacquer boxes. Thousands of
aspiring businessmen and women engaged in "shuttle trade." The
shuttlers would fly to Istanbul, Bangkok, Warsaw, Berlin, or Seoul, buy up
clothes, electronic goods, or food, and bring them back to Russia to
sell at greatly inflated prices. In the Russian Far East, used Toyotas and
Hondas flooded the streets of Vladivostok, Khabarovsk, and smaller
cities. Since Japanese use right-hand drive cars, and Russians drive on the
right side of the road as do Americans, these imports made for some exciting
traffic.
Russia's economic reforms
disrupted the lives of many workers. For the majority of them, wages did not
keep up with price increases. The government's tax burden on firms was so
great that many could not afford to buy raw materials, pay their taxes, and
pay workers too. By the mid to late 1990s workers frequently did not receive
their wages on time;
some had not been paid in over a year.
Strikes increased dramatically during the years 1994-1997, with miners and
teachers among the most disaffected elements of the labor force. Some of the
more desperate teachers took part in hunger strikes. The more politically
astute workers took advantage of the 1996 presidential elections to extract
promises of aid from President Yeltsin as he campaigned across the country.
Russian organized labor also made the payment of overdue wages its primary
demand. However, organized labor, weak as it was in the post-communist
environment, impeded the reform process. The Independent Federation of Trade
Unions of Russia, successor to the communist-dominated labor unions of the
Soviet era and claimant to 95 percent of all organized workers, lobbied to
keep unprofitable mines and businesses open. This kept workers employed in
the short term, but jeopardized the long-term viability of their firms.
The agricultural sector was in even more
dire straits than industry or services. Technically, all the collective and
state farms had transformed themselves into joint-stock companies, but most
continued to operate as they had before--inefficiently, and at a loss.
Communist and Agrarian Party members in Parliament refused to legalize the
private ownership of farmland. Without a legal guarantee of property, few
farmers were willing to strike out on their own. A few thousand
entrepreneurial types had tried private farming early in the 1990s, but given
the absence of credit, fertilizer, and technical support and the active
hostility of much of the Russian peasantry, many abandoned the effort. By the
late 1990s Russia,
a potentially rich agricultural country, was importing fully half of its food
from abroad.
Perhaps the biggest problem in economic
reform was the explosion of organized crime and the links between these mafia
gangs and politicians. The Soviet government even at its most repressive had
never managed to eliminate the criminal underworld, whose Russian, Chechen,
Tatar, and Central Asian variants existed in the labor camps and on the
fringes of Soviet society. With the breakdown of order in the early 1990s the
old gangs began to operate openly, and hundreds of new ones formed.
Reflecting the Russian tendency toward absolutism, complete subservience gave
way to total freedom. Russia's
mafia gangs were involved in smuggling gold, diamonds, and other valuable
minerals out of the country, and computers, electronic goods, and other items
into the country (thus avoiding customs duties); selling military weapons to
clients abroad; operating extortion and protection rackets; smuggling drugs;
and stealing cars. Some of the more powerful criminal bosses set up
operations abroad, including in the United States, leading the FBI to
establish close working relations with Russian law enforcement.
Organized crime had been closely linked to
Soviet officialdom, and these ties carried over into the post-communist
period. In the latter stages of perestroika the Soviet elite had plundered
the state and secreted billions of dollars in bank accounts abroad. Ambitious
young bureaucrats set themselves up as consultants, using their connections
with government to help prospective businessmen evade taxes, regulations, and
other red tape. The most powerful new businessmen (and virtually all were
men) controlled huge conglomerates which encompassed banking, mass media, oil
and gas, and real estate. By the late 1990s these financial tycoons were
referred to as "the oligarchs"--prime movers and shakers in Russian
business and politics. Among the most influential were Vladimir Gusinsky,
chairman of MOST bank; Boris Berezovsky, automobile magnate and banker; and
Vladimir Potanin, head of Uneximbank. These financial barons had amassed huge
profits through the "loans for shares" program, in which the banks
lent money to the government in exchange for shares in major Russian industries.
While some Russian entrepreneurs became
super-rich, many other Russians remained mired in poverty, and the
development of a stable middle class, essential for a successful democracy,
proved elusive. At the heart of Russia's economic troubles was
the country's failure to evolve into a genuine market economy. Many of the
large, inefficient industrial firms were not allowed to go bankrupt--the
state propped them up with subsidies and allowed them to continue operating
without paying their tax bills. Those firms that did pay taxes often could
not afford to pay workers, so wage arrears were widespread. The problem, as
economists Clifford Gaddy and Barry Ickes point out in an article in the
journal Foreign Affairs ( 1998) is that so many
enterprises--possibly as many as three-fourths--were simply not profitable.
They did not produce goods or services that would attract cash buyers;
instead of paying money for supplies, firms compensated by using elaborate
bartering arrangements. Cash shortages meant that workers either were not
paid or received some products in kind from their employer, which they in
turn tried to sell in the open-air markets. The entire economy was based on
the pretense that value was being added to products during the manufacturing
process; in reality, factories often made products that were worth less than
the resources that went into them. Gaddy and Ickes called this a
"virtual economy."
Of course, in a true market economy firms
that operated on these principles would quickly
go bankrupt. Theoretically, inefficient Russian firms should go under, to be
replaced by profitable businesses. That is what happened in Poland during that country's "shock
therapy," and Poland
by the mid-1990s was posting impressive growth rates of 5 percent per year or
better. Russia,
by contrast, suffered through eight straight years of economic decline. The
pretense of Russia's
virtual economy burst late in 1998 when the ruble lost much of its value and
the Russian stock market dropped by nearly 90 percent. Since many products
are imported, the devaluation of the ruble meant that prices for many items
skyrocketed. As Russia's
economy collapsed, Yeltsin and the Parliament wrangled over his choice for
Prime Minister. In September 1998 the President tried to reappoint Viktor Chernomyrdin,
whom he had replaced with the youthful Sergei Kiriyenko earlier in the year.
Yeltsin eventually was forced to compromise and appoint Yevgeny Primakov,
Minister of Foreign Affairs, former head of the Foreign Intelligence Service
(successor to the KGB), and a survivor from the Soviet era. But Primakov, an
accomplished and erudite diplomat, had little knowledge of economics. His
ability to guide Russia
toward economic prosperity, the Prime Minister's chief responsibility, would
have to be complemented by extraordinary political skills in addressing the
serious social problems that have accompanied economic change. Primakov
proved to be a very skillful politician, so good, in fact, that an
increasingly unpopular Yeltsin fired his Prime Minister in May 1999.
SOCIAL PROBLEMS
For many Russians one of the most traumatic
consequences of the collapse of communism was the loss of the comprehensive
social welfare programs that had made life safe and predictable, if not
affluent. The rights to a job, a free education, free health care, and a
guaranteed pension were taken for granted during the Soviet period. In the
brave new world of emerging Russian capitalism these entitlements were placed
in jeopardy.
Soviet ideology held that unemployment was
an evil of capitalism, unthinkable in the more humane socialist state. Of
course, the inefficient planned economy concealed massive underemployment, in
which surplus employees were paid for less than a full day's work. Russia's new
capitalist system threw many of these redundant workers out on the street. By
1997 official unemployment reached 10 percent; however, the reluctance of
many of the old state enterprises and newly privatized monopolies to shed
excess workers meant that the actual unemployment figures were much higher.
Compounding the problem, the government was unable to pay adequate
unemployment benefits due to the massive state debt.
Education had been one bright spot in an
otherwise dismal Soviet record. The communist system had provided a solid
basic education for each child, with particular strengths in math, science,
geography, and languages. Entrance to the best universities, like Moscow State
and Leningrad, was highly competitive, and
their graduates were the equal of those at Harvard or Oxford. Less talented students matriculated
at small universities or polytechnic schools. Engineering was by far the most
popular major at Soviet universities and polytechnics; science, math, and
literature were also well represented. Education was free, and students were
guaranteed a job after graduation. They were also expected to work for at
least three years at an assigned job after receiving their degrees.
Education in the post-communist period has
experienced drastic changes. The censorship and discipline of the Soviet era
have been replaced by open inquiry and individual expression. Business and
economics are now the majors of choice for college students. Russian high
schools now offer a variety of educational experiences, including gymnasiums
(highly competitive college preparatory schools), vocationaltechnical schools
(also competitive), and independent and religious schools, which are usually
funded by churches and businesses. Since the government has been forced to
slash education budgets, even students in state schools are asked to pay for
tuition and books. Most state schools are dilapidated, and teachers are paid
only $80-$120 per month, if they are paid at all. Periodically teachers go on
strike to demand back wages. The youngest and most capable teachers left to
go into business, where they could earn a decent wage.
Russian education quickly came to reflect
the emerging social divisions between haves and have-nots. Private elementary
and high schools opened to educate the children of wealthy New Russians, and
by 1997 approximately 300 private colleges and universities, many
incorporating business studies, were operating. However, less than half of
these were licensed, and many had questionable academic standards. Often a
hefty bribe could secure an academic degree. The wealthiest of the New
Russians sent their children abroad to be educated in Switzerland, France,
Britain, or the United States.
President Yeltsin was roundly criticized for sending his fifteen-year-old
grandson to an exclusive private school in England, which charged $23,000 a
year in tuition.
In the late perestroika era and the early
years of post-communist Russia
many young people abandoned higher education as useless in Russia's
emerging capitalist economy. The prospect of spending five years or more in
college was far less attractive than the ready money that could be made
through creative business activities on Russia's mean streets. By the
late 1990s, however, educators detected a trend. Young people were beginning
to return to the university, most seeking degrees in economics, law, finance,
and accountancy, with a few pursuing language or environmental studies. The
total number of college students rose from 583,000 in 1990 to 748,000 in
1997. Higher education was still very elitist, though, when compared to that
in the United States,
where 52 percent of high school graduates go on to college.
Health care in the former Soviet
Union functioned on two levels: excellent modern treatment for
the elite, and universally available but poor-quality care for the average
patient. Post-Soviet medicine is also bifurcated, but according to those who
can pay for treatment at the new private hospitals and clinics, and those who
must continue to rely on government medical services. Russia's
population is not healthy by Western standards. Alcoholism is acute among
males, and about 70 percent of men smoke, as do 30 percent of women. Drug
abuse is widespread among Russian youth, and sharing needles contributes to a
growing AIDS problem. High levels of stress, crime, and environmental
pollution raise morbidity and mortality rates. In some regions cholera,
tuberculosis, and hepatitis are major problems.
The extent of Russia's health care crisis is
apparent in the following statistics. Life expectancy for Russian men in 1995
was on average only 57 years; in 1987 it had been 64.9 years. By comparison
on average males in the United
States live to 73, women to age 79.
Russian men die more frequently in industrial and automobile accidents, and
frequently drink themselves to death, often from consuming poisoned
moonshine. In addition, Russia's
birth rate is declining, probably due to low living standards and the
uncertainties of life in post-communist Russia. Women simply are not
bearing enough children to offset the large number of deaths in the
population. A study by the Russian State Statistics Committee in 1995
predicted that if these trends continue, Russia's population will decrease
by 5.1 million over the next decade.
The environmental situation in Russia has
also contributed to the poor state of Russians' health. As noted in Chapter
8, the Soviet record on the environment was abysmal. Soviet communism left a
legacy of polluted water, fouled air, eroded agricultural land, and piles of
radioactive waste. Lake Baikal's pristine waters had been contaminated and,
in Central Asia, the great Aral Sea's waters
had been depleted to irrigate cotton for hard-currency exports. The
dissolution of the USSR
left some of the problems to the newly independent states; many others, however,
remained to plague Russia
itself.
Environmental protection did not improve
notably after the collapse of communism. Some benefits were realized from the
steep decline in industrial production--closed factories were no longer
polluting the air and water. Strapped by huge budget deficits, Moscow and the regional
and local governments did not have the funds to clean up polluted lakes and
rivers, deal with soil erosion, or properly dispose of radioactive wastes.
Nor did they have adequate means of enforcing environmental laws. Russia's new
entrepreneurs were intent solely on making money, and cared little about
their environmental records. Environmental interest groups had formed as
early as 1987, but Russian environmental activism peaked in the next three
years and then declined markedly after the collapse of communism. There are
still many ecology groups active in Russia, but most are small, and
few have the resources to lobby effectively for environmental protection.
Russia's military is
responsible for much of the country's environmental destruction. In the
closed military research city Tomsk-7 an explosion in 1993 released a plume
of radioactivity across northern Siberia.
The Russian navy dumped nuclear waste from decommissioned submarines off the
Russian Far East coast, angering the Japanese, who fish in these waters.
National security arguments are still used to justify withholding information
about nuclear contamination. When a retired captain, Aleksandr Nikitin,
co-authored a report with a Norwegian ecology organization on extensive
nuclear waste dumping in the Arctic Ocean,
he was charged by the Federal Security Service (FSB) with espionage. A St. Petersburg
judge dismissed the charges against Nikitin in 1998, ruling that they were
based on insufficient evidence.
Women had experienced informal
discrimination in the Soviet period; still, many women held prominent
positions as factory managers, scientists, Communist Party and government
officials, and professors. A quota system ensured that women were well
represented in the Supreme Soviet and local soviets, the elected but
relatively impotent legislatures. After the communist system collapsed, women
found their position in society eroding. Virtually all the financial and
business elites were men, while some 70 percent of the newly unemployed were
women. Businesses openly engaged in discriminatory practices in hiring, and
there were few protections against sexual harassment. The Russian Orthodox
Church and conservative politicians urged women to return to traditional
domestic roles in the home.
In 1993 a coalition of three women's
organizations formed the Women of Russia electoral bloc to promote women's
political interests; they secured 8.1 percent of the party vote in that
year's December parliamentary elections, giving them a total of 21 seats in
the Duma. In all, 60 women were elected to the 450-seat lower house, giving
them total representation of 13.5 percent. Women of Russia had
campaigned for a socially responsible state--a government that would provide
consumer goods, child care, and housing at reasonable cost. The bloc also
called for the observance of human rights and attention to the rule of law.
The end of the Soviet quota system for women
meant that a smaller proportion of women were now represented in politics,
but with more opportunities for genuine democratic participation. Women were
most prominent in the Duma, the lower house of Parliament. At the beginning
of 1996 women made up only 10.4 percent of the Duma, about the same
proportion of women as there were in the U.S. House of Representatives.
Women's representation declined after the December 1995 parliamentary
elections, when the Women of Russia electoral bloc failed to garner at least
5 percent of the vote required for proportional representation, and secured
only three district seats. Only one woman was serving in the Federation
Council, the upper house, out of 178 deputies, and only one of 89 regional
governors was a woman. There were three women (out of 19) on the Constitutional Court,
and 19 of 115 Supreme Court justices were women. Tragically, Russia lost one of its most outstanding
reformist politicians, Duma member Galina Starovoitova, when she was gunned
down outside her St. Petersburg
apartment in November 1998.
By the end of the 1990s Russia's economic
transformation had divided society into roughly three groups: the numerically
small but very wealthy New Russians engaged in the banking, business, and
government sectors; a small but growing middle class of mostly young, urban small
business people and traders; and the great majority of Russians in the
working class and rural areas who struggled to maintain a decent standard of
living. Retired people, soldiers, farmers, and those on fixed incomes
comprised the 25-30 percent of the Russian population living in poverty,
defined in 1998 as having an income under $32 per month. Beggars, usually
elderly women, could be seen outside churches and subway stations, and
homeless teenagers, abandoned by unemployed or alcoholic parents, roamed the
city streets. In 1996 Moscow Mayor Yurii Luzhkov Luzhkov ordered thousands of
the city's homeless population, many of whom had flocked to the capital in
search of jobs and apartments, rounded up and deported.
While Russia's economic crisis
consigned over a quarter of the population to poverty, it also limited the
government's ability to provide relief to its most destitute citizens. Modest
pensions were sufficient during the Soviet era, when food and rents were
highly subsidized, but $20 per month did not go far in a Moscow
that was now more expensive than New
York. The state's inability to collect taxes meant
that only minimal public support could be provided for medical care,
education, orphanages, and homeless shelters. Many regions in Siberia, northern
Russia,
and the Russian Far East had received subsidized food and fuel under the
Soviet regime and high wages for their work in sensitive defense factories.
Now these regions, virtually abandoned by Moscow, had to endure brutal winters
without adequate supplies of hot water or food. The International Monetary
Fund and other Western economic institutions aggravated the situation by
insisting on government cost-cutting measures as a condition of assistance to
Russia.
This policy caused a great deal of resentment, generated support for the
communists and nationalists who blamed the West for Russia's troubles, and complicated Russia's
efforts to build a viable democracy.
BUILDING DEMOCRACY
Russia had no prior experience
with democracy, and so had to build it from scratch after the collapse of the
USSR.
Russia's
leaders were faced with the multiple tasks of rebuilding the state apparatus,
reinventing a sense of Russian nationhood, and restoring feelings of pride
and confidence in government at the same time they were transforming the
economy. On balance, the Russian
Federation has a record of mixed progress
toward the establishment of formal democracy. Two rounds of reasonably fair
parliamentary elections and one presidential contest have been held under
conditions of universal suffrage. Citizens of Russia now enjoy formal
constitutional guarantees, including free speech, a free press, freedom of
religion and movement, and equality of the sexes. The police and military
appear to be under civilian control, a single-party monopoly has given way to
multiparty competition, and individuals have the right to form various
political, cultural, and social organizations free from government control.
Despite these remarkable achievements, Russia is
distinctly different from the more fully consolidated representative
democracies. Russia is what Notre Dame political scientist Guillermo
O'Donnell in an article in the Journal
of Democracy ( 1994) calls
a "delegative democracy"--formally democratic because of free and
fair elections, but with strong and often arbitrary presidential leadership,
combined with ineffective legislative and judicial institutions and a weak
civic culture. The Russian state is too weak to exercise an effective rule of
law throughout the territory of the Russian Federation. Like many
newer democracies, Russia
has achieved the first, formal stage of democratization, but has made only
marginal progress toward "deepening" its democracy by encouraging
greater citizen participation and entrenching democratic attitudes and
practices throughout society.
In Russia's super-presidential
political system, much depends on the personality and leadership ability of
the chief executive. As President, Yeltsin played a vital role in Russia's
transition from communist dictatorship, but his poor health, his often
contradictory pronouncements, his sometimes questionable decisions, and his
tendency to abuse alcohol weakened his authority and hindered the full
consolidation of democracy. Born in 1931 in the village
of Butka, Sverdlovsk oblast, Boris Nikolaevich
Yeltsin was a bright student but also something of a troublemaker who often
challenged his teachers. He was expelled from school in the seventh grade,
but later finished high school with excellent marks. Yeltsin attended the Ural Kirov
Technical College,
studying engineering and construction. For recreation he played tennis and
coached girls' volleyball. While serving as chief engineer of a factory in
his native Sverdlovsk,
Yeltsin spent a full year learning each of the twelve major trades practiced
in the plant. He joined the Communist Party in 1961 and moved rapidly through
the ranks. He was appointed First Secretary of Sverdlovsk
oblast in 1976 and served in that position until his transfer to Moscow in 1985.
Politics in Russia's brief post-communist
history has been marked by recurrent and occasionally violent conflict
between the executive and legislative branches of government. Yeltsin's
direct election as Russia's
first democratic President, the early cooperative relationship established
between the presidency and the Russian Supreme Soviet, and Yeltsin's
commitment to judicial reform and a market economy augured well for the
development of democratic institutions in the post-communist era. However,
Yeltsin's actions in the wake of the August 1991 coup did little to
strengthen nascent democratic institutions. For example, he resisted calls
for new elections to formalize his authority in this radically changed
environment. A commitment to radical economic reform and fear of opposition
from the remaining Nomenklatura were used to justify Yeltsin's assumption of
unified executive powers, including the right to rule by decree through 1992.
The President's advisors, led by First Deputy Prime Minister Gennadi Burbulis
and Deputy Prime Minister for Economics Yegor Gaidar, implemented a program
of shock therapy based on Western neoliberal economic theory. The reformers
expected ordinary Russians to endure a brief period of painful transition
before the full benefits of the new market economy would be realized. As the
transitional period dragged on into the twenty-first century, many people
became impoverished while a few grew immensely wealthy. Russians soon became
disgusted with the ineffectiveness, corruption, and indifference of their new
democratic government.
A healthy democracy embodies the idea of
competition among political parties for votes and offices. However, this
competition must take place according to certain rules, including loyalty to
the basic system and renouncing violence as a means to achieve one's goals.
Yeltsin's commitment to radical shock therapy and his tendency to exclude
those politicians not committed to his program from the governing process
thrust Parliament into the role of a confrontational opposition body. The
Speaker, Ruslan Khasbulatov, had been closely allied with Yeltsin during the
August Coup. In 1992-1993, though, Khasbulatov quickly became disillusioned
with Yeltsin's reforms and rammed through a series of amendments designed to
transform Russia
into a parliamentary system. The institution of the presidency would be
transformed into a mere figurehead. For his part, Yeltsin frequently ignored
legislation passed by the Parliament, issuing decrees that were in turn
ignored by Parliament and by Russia's
regions. Regional leaders were both drawn into the struggle between President
and Parliament, and were able to enhance their autonomy by encouraging
central authorities to bid competitively for their support. This resulted in
a peculiar form of unequal federalism, in which the more resource-rich and
influential regions acquired special status through "treaties"
negotiated with the President.
As tensions mounted between the President
and Parliament in 1993, Yeltsin engineered a referendum on the President and
the government's policies, which was held in April. Four questions were posed
to voters in the referendum: Did they have confidence in Yeltsin as
president? Did they support his economic and social policies? Should early
elections be called for the presidency? Should early elections be called for
the legislature? The administration asked Russians to vote yes, yes, no, and
yes;
in effect, they were forcing voters to
choose between the two institutions. Although Yeltsin "won" on all
four questions, encouraging him to press ahead with a new constitution more
favorable to strong presidential rule, the subsequent use of undemocratic
methods to preserve Russia's
new democracy generated deep cynicism among the public.
The question of a new constitution had been
on the agenda since the collapse of the USSR. Russia was still using the
Russian Soviet Federated Socialist Republic (RSFSR) Constitution from 1978,
greatly amended but clearly inadequate in a radically changed environment of
transition toward democracy and a market economy. At least four different
constitutional versions had been debated during summer 1993. The conflict
over what form a new Russian constitution would take left the country deeply
divided. On one side were the advocates of market reform-Yeltsin's close
advisors and the democrats in Parliament who supported President Yeltsin,
centralized presidential power, and close cooperation with the West. On the
other side were Yeltsin's critics in Parliament, primarily the communists,
agrarians, and conservative nationalists, led by Speaker Khasbulatov and
supported by Yeltsin's own Vice President, the former Army hero Aleksandr
Rutskoi. This group vigorously criticized the human costs of reform and opposed
the Western-oriented foreign policy pursued by Yeltsin and Foreign Minister
Andrei Kozyrev. Yeltsin's poor health and drinking problems also encouraged
opposition. In essence, a sort of "dual power" reminiscent of 1917
emerged in Moscow.
Several constitutional variants were advanced during 1993 as the conflict
between the President and Parliament heated up.
Faced with intractable opposition, Yeltsin
dissolved Parliament on September 21, 1993, and called for new elections in
December. The conservative-nationalist members of Parliament refused to
accept Yeltsin's decision. Rutskoi, Khasbulatov, and a melange of communists
and fascists barricaded themselves in the Parliament building, the so-called
White House on the banks of the Moscow
River. Armed with light
weapons and waving the Soviet flag, the parliamentary rebels appealed to the
country to rise up against this "anti-constitutional coup." Moscow officials turned
off electricity and phone service to the White House to ratchet up the
pressure. On October 3 the conservatives attacked the neighboring Moscow mayoral offices
and marched on the Ostankino (national radio and television) studios. Yeltsin
responded by sending heavy tanks to shell the rebels into submission, leaving
the white marble edifice blackened and smoking and the rebels in jail.
Muscovites, and the rest of the country,
were dismayed by this fac tional violence, which resulted in over one hundred
deaths, and were disgusted with politicians on both sides. Public confidence
in Russia's
political structure, particularly the presidency, was seriously eroded.
Public opinion surveys conducted by British and Russian political scientists
Richard Rose and Vladimir Tikhomirov in 1993 and 1995 ( Trends in the New Russia
Barometer, 1992-1995, University of Strathclyde, 1995) found Russians to
be increasingly critical of presidential power. When asked whether Parliament
should be able to veto presidential actions, those answering "strongly
agree" or "somewhat agree" increased from 50 percent in 1993
to 64 percent in 1995. However, the Russian public distrusted most
governmental institutions. Surveys conducted by Richard Rose in 1995 found
that parliament was the least trusted institution in Russia--only
4 percent of the public trusted Parliament. Six percent trusted the
government, meaning then Prime Minister Chemomyrdin and his cabinet, and 8
percent trusted the President. In contrast, 47 percent listed the Orthodox
Church as the most trusted institution; the armed forces and mass media were
second and third, at 24 and 21 percent, respectively.
Popular disillusionment with the course of
Russian democracy was reflected in the December 1993 elections, in which
Yeltsin's version of the constitution was put to a vote and 450 members of
the new Russian Parliament (the Duma, or lower house, with the Federation
Council, the upper chamber) were elected. Turnout was 54.8 percent, and of
those voting 58.4 percent approved the draft constitution. This means that
only 31 percent, or less than a third of eligible voters, voted in favor. In
addition, a large percentage of Russian voters cast their ballots for
conservative-nationalist parties. Vladimir Zhirinovsky's Liberal Democratic
Party (LDP), which was neither liberal nor democratic, received the largest
share of the party list vote, at 26.2 percent, and gained a total of 64 seats
in the Duma. All told, the LDP, the Communist Party of the Russian Federation,
and the Agrarian Party received just over 43 percent of the vote. Russia's complicated electoral system,
however, enabled democratic parties (Yabloko and Russia's Choice) and independents
to win over 50 percent of total Duma seats. The Russian people, like Russia's
politicians, were deeply divided over the preferred course their country
should take.
Federalism was a controversial political
question in post-communist Russia,
as it was in the newly independent United States over two centuries
ago. In 1990-1991 various territories within Russia
had conducted a "War of Laws" with Moscow, resisting directives from the
capital and sserting sovereignty over their population and natural resources.
At that time Yeltsin had urged the regions to take as much sovereignty as
they could handle, since decentralization strengthened his hand while
weakening Gorbachev's position. Once Russia
became independent, Yeltsin sought to reestablish Moscow's authority through a new Union
Treaty with the eighty-nine constituent territories. Two--Chechnya and
Tatarstan--refused to sign the treaty when it was promulgated early in 1992.
Other provinces (the nonethnic oblasts) unilaterally sought a higher status
within the new federation by declaring themselves "republics."
These oblasts, or regions, of which there were fifty, resented being assigned
a secondary place in the federation, behind the twenty-one ethnically based
republics.
In the December 1993 Constitution each of
the eighty-nine units was granted two seats in the upper chamber of
Parliament, the Federation Council. But through a series of individually
negotiated treaties Moscow
has granted special privileges to certain regions that are denied to others,
and the resentment of disadvantaged regions has complicated national unity
and legitimacy. For instance, one major concession to the country's
non-Russian ethnic groups was the retention of the twenty-one autonomous
republics, which were granted higher status within the Russian Federation.
These autonomous republics were allowed constitutions (rather than legal
charters), and their native languages were guaranteed coequal status with
Russian. These provisions were enough to cause resentment among Russians in
the nonethnic oblasts (regions) and krais (territories), but were often
insufficient to placate the country's minority ethnic groups. One republic, Chechnya, attempted to secede from the Russian Federation,
resulting in a bloody civil war during 1994-1996.
Chechnya is a small republic
of mostly Turkic Moslem peoples located in the Caucasus Mountains in southern
Russia.
Chechens had fought bitterly against nineteenth-century Russian conquerors.
After the Soviet collapse the Chechen-Ingush republic divided into its
respective parts and Chechnya
asserted its independence from Russia. Moscow tolerated the situation for three
years, but a combination of circumstances--popular resentment of the powerful
Chechen mafia, the importance of oil pipelines and rail links running through
the republic, and Yeltsin's need to reassert central control over more
recalcitrant members of the federation--led to an invasion by Russian armed
forces in December 1994. Yeltsin may also have resented the fact that his
chief rival in Parliament, Speaker Ruslan Khasbulatov, was an ethnic Chechen.
The Russian armed forces were poorly trained and inadequately equipped, but
they did manage to destroy the capital, Grozny,
inflicting heavy casualties on the civilian population. Chechen guerrillas,
aided by Islamic volunteers from Afghanistan,
Iran,
and elsewhere, fought back fiercely. The violence continued until
presidential candidate Aleksandr Lebed negotiated a ceasefire in August 1996.
Yeltsin had appointed Lebed to head the National Security Council after the
tough-talking general placed third in the first round of the 1996
presidential elections. Yeltsin needed Lebed's 15 percent of the voters to
defeat Communist Party candidate Gennadii Zyuganov in the second electoral
round. Shortly after brokering the Chechnya cease-fire, Lebed was
sacked by Yeltsin. Shortly thereafter Lebed ran for and was elected governor
of the Siberian province
of Krasnoyarsk.
Although many of Russia's
regions have pressed for greater autonomy, Chechnya is the only one whose
demands have been violently suppressed. Two republics in north and central Russia--Tatarstan and Sakha (formerly Yakutia)
are more representative of how Moscow
and the regions have interacted. The Tatar republic also declared
independence in 1991, under pressure from a strong nationalist movement, and
refused to sign the Federal Treaty in March 1992. Just over 40 percent of the
population is ethnic Tatar, Moslem descendants of the Mongols who invaded Russia in the
thirteenth century, and about half is ethnic Russian. The major issues in
Tatarstan's drive for more autonomy have been the language issue (would Tatar
or Russian be the official language, or would they have equal status?), citizenship
(could republic residents hold Tatar citizenship in addition to citizenship
in the Russian Federation?),
and the nature of the relationship between Kazan
and Moscow.
Tatarstan exports oil and has a relatively strong industrial base, and the
Tatar leadership wanted maximum control over oil revenues and taxes. The
President of Tatarstan, Mintimer Shaimiev, used the support of both Tatar
nationalists and Russians to negotiate a compromise with Moscow in 1994 providing equal status to
both major languages, dual citizenship, and extensive republic control over
its economy.
Like Tatarstan, approximately half of
Sakha's (formerly Yakutia) population is comprised of Russians sent to work
the gold and diamond mines, and the natural gas wells and coal mines, in this
huge northern territory.
About 40 percent are ethnic Yakuts, a people closely related to Alaskan
Inuits. For residents of Sakha, the major issue was control over the region's
vast natural wealth. Nationalism was not very strong among the Yakuts; there
were relatively few Yakut intellectuals, and many had been assimilated to
Russian customs. Instead, the dispute with Moscow was more economic. Sakha signed the
Federal Treaty, but President Mikhail Nikolaev negotiated a treaty giving the
republic considerable authority to exploit its natural resources. For
example, in the late 1990s Sakha was negotiating directly with South Korea to develop natural gas pipelines
that would run from north-central Siberia southward to Korea and Japan.
A second problem with Russian federalism is
that the center has not ensured that federal units will not abuse their
authority in the area of civil rights and liberties. This is similar to what
happened in the American South during the first half of the twentieth
century; the result is pockets of authoritarianism. Initially, Yeltsin had
appointed the regional governors, under decree powers granted to him by
Parliament. However, all Russia's
governors had stood for popular election by early 1997, and their greater
independence from Moscow
made it possible for some to continue to rule in the style of Soviet-era
Party bosses. In the tradition of the imperial "Inspector General,"
satirized in Nikolai Gogol's brilliant novel, Yeltsin has appointed
"presidential representatives" to serve as his eyes and ears in the
republics. As one might imagine, these envoys are greatly resented by local
politicians who do not want their behavior reported back to Moscow. Many would prefer to rule as feudal
lords, unconstrained by central authorities, regional legislatures, or public
opinion. Criminals have found the lax controls in the regions ideal for
business. Some have even stood for election to local and regional councils in
order to secure immunity from prosecution! In short, Russia's developing federalism limits
potential authoritarian abuses by Moscow
but creates new opportunities for regional obstacles to democratic
consolidation.
Federal constitutions can only provide the
basic outlines of power sharing. Practice and judicial rulings over time more
clearly delineate the respective spheres of authority. In new democracies
that adopt federalism, an extended period of adjustment is to be expected. Russia's
experience with federalism has been chaotic in part because of a long
tradition of highly centralized authority (notwithstanding the formal
appurtenances of federalism during the Soviet period) and a deeply divided
political culture. Many regions are benefiting from Moscow's subsidies, while refusing to send
tax receipts to the central government. This contributes to the federal
government's budget deficit and complicates the government's ability to pay
for education, health care, pensions, and unemployment benefits.
Judicial reform was also an important
component of Russia's
democ ratization. Courts in the Soviet period had little power and were often
manipulated by Communist Party and government officials. In postcommunist Russia the
court system was reorganized on Western principles of the rule of law,
including subordination of all governmental institutions to the Russian
Constitution and legal protections for civil rights and liberties. A
three-tiered structure of courts was established, at the national, regional,
and local levels, and the concept of a trial by jury was introduced. Previously,
cases had been decided by a professional judge and two lay assessors. A
Supreme Court was to serve as the final court of appeal for civil, criminal,
and military cases, while a commercial court would deal with economic
disputes. A Constitutional Court
was created to adjudicate disputes between the executive and the legislature
and between Moscow
and the provinces, and to ensure constitutional protection of citizens'
rights.
The Constitutional Court was designed as an
impartial arbiter of constitutional questions, similar to the U.S. Supreme
Court (although it is actually modeled more closely on the German Constitutional Court). In 1993
the Constitutional Court
became politicized when its Chief Justice, Valerii Zorkin, condemned
Yeltsin's dissolution of Parliament as unconstitutional and supported
Khasbulatov and Rutskoi. Zorkin was dismissed by the President (this was
itself an unconstitutional action), and the Court was not reconstituted until
1995. Since that time the Court has gradually rebuilt its reputation as a
respected legal arbiter, resolving disputes among various branches of the
national government, delineating the powers of regional authorities, and
ruling that President Yeltsin was ineligible to run for reelection in the
year 2000. In 1996 the Constitutional
Court ruled on a number of cases involving
presidential authority, parliamentary immunity, federalism, and citizenship
issues, but according to the U.S. State Department has had difficulty
enforcing its decisions. Judicial independence is continuing to evolve
slowly, but the courts' authority has been constrained by inadequate funding
and uncooperative government executives. (For a breakdown of Russia's
judicial branch, see Figure 9.1.)
Presidential systems embody an
"invitation to struggle" between executive and legislature.
Political scientist Juan Linz, in The
Failure of Presidential Democracy (
Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1994), has argued persuasively
that for this and other reasons, presidential regimes are ill suited for new
democracies. The principle of territorial representation on which
legislatures are based gives them a social and political composition quite
different than that of presidents. Legislatures, partic ularly bicameral ones
with a regionally based upper chamber, are disproportionately representative
of small towns and rural areas, and rural populations tend to be
conservative. Presidential supporters, on the other hand, tend to be concentrated
more in the capital and in large urban areas, and are more reform-oriented.
The 1996 Russian presidential campaign and
the two rounds of elections ( Russia
uses runoff elections if a candidate does not receive an absolute majority on
the first ballot) made it clear that Russian politics was highly polarized.
Ten names were on the first ballot, but the real contest was between
President Yeltsin and Communist Party leader Gennadii Zyuganov, who
represented reformism and anti-reformism, respectively. Yeltsin placed first
with 35.3 percent of the vote, Zyuganov was a close second with 32 percent,
and Lebed received 14.5 percent. Much of the Russian media, alarmed by the
possibility of renewed censorship under communist rule, characterized their
runoff election as a choice between democracy and dictatorship. Yeltsin's
American campaign advisors counseled a polarizing strategy, while campaign
leaflets and television ads suggested that a communist victory would return
the country to the worst excesses of Stalinism. Yeltsin won the second round
of balloting with 53.8 percent to Zyuganov's 40.3 percent; turnout was a
healthy 68.8 percent. Five percent of the electorate voted against both
candidates.
In 1996-1997Russia's legislative-executive
relations moved toward a vague semblance of normality. The presence of a
majority opposition in the Duma and the adoption of numerous laws by
Parliament narrowed Yeltsin's ability to rule through presidential decree. In
October 1997 a potential crisis in the form of a parliamentary vote of no
confidence was averted by compromise on both sides. Opposition from the
communists and Yabloko over the budget and tax code late in the year forced
the government to compromise on key parts of its legislation. In 1998 and
1999 legislators continued to challenge the President by advancing motions
for his impeachment. Very little was accomplished in this atmosphere of
vitriolic confrontation.
New democracies need to have an adequately functioning
state. The Soviet state was extremely powerful and thoroughly penetrated
Soviet society; by contrast, the Russian state is extremely weak and
exercises at best questionable authority over much of its vast territory.
Large and diverse democracies must often resort to federalism as a means of
dealing with potential "state" problems--that is, ensuring the
government really has the authority to make and enforce laws. Implicit in the
idea of a federal constitution is the recognition of and acquiescence to
different regional identities. Ideally, concessions to regional identities
should make it easier to build national consensus. This does not always work,
though. Canada's many
concessions of the French-speaking Quebecois have not dampened the enthusiasm
of Quebec
nationalists for independence.
There is one factor that favors Russia's
democratic consolidation. Unlike many other new democracies, Russia does
not have a politically powerful military. In South America and Spain, for
example, powerful military officers influenced the pace and agenda of
democratic transitions. The former Soviet regime, by contrast, kept tight
political control over the military. Since democratization began, political
control over the military has loosened. However, the Russian military has
demonstrated a reluctance to get involved in politics. Military involvement
in the transition has been sporadic and small-scale, limited primarily to the
defense of the White House during the August 1991 coup and in assaulting the
White House in October 1993. In each case military leaders were reluctant
participants in essentially civilian conflicts.
There is political
activism among certain segments of the army, but these actions are targeted
largely toward meeting the most basic needs of officers and soldiers--for
housing, decent pay, and so forth. And some disgruntled military leaders have
threatened political action against the Yeltsin government unless their
demands for better treatment of the armed forces are met. One activist army
officer and member of the Duma, General Lev Rokhlin, created the Movement in
Support of the Army, Defense Industry and Military Sciences to lobby the
government for increased military funding and better treatment of officers
and enlisted men. Curiously, Rokhlin was killed in summer 1998, apparently by
his wife. But Russia's
officer corps is fragmented, and its ability successfully to challenge the
civilian leadership is questionable. Moreover, the Rose and Tikhomirov
surveys indicate that while the military remains one of the most trusted
institutions in society, only 12 percent of Russians would favor military
rule as an alternative to the Yeltsin government.
POLITICAL CULTURE AND RUSSIAN
DEMOCRACY
New political institutions can be designed
relatively quickly during a democratic transition. Political culture may be
equally important in democratic consolidation, yet it is far less subject to
conscious reconstruction. Political culture is defined as the attitudes,
values, and beliefs of a population about government, politics, and fellow
citizens. Just as every country has a unique culture (art, music, literature,
social customs), each country also has its own distinct political culture.
American political culture, for example, was influenced by the ideas of British
political thinkers and the frontier experience. Americans tend to be strongly
individualistic, believe in the rule of law and equal treatment for everyone,
join interest groups in large numbers, oppose government interference in the
economy and in people's private lives, and are extremely religious. Russian
political culture, by contrast, has often been characterized as
authoritarian. Russians, supposedly due to their long tradition of repressive
government, are unfamiliar with or indifferent to the rule of law, favor a
strong role for government in the economy (instead of private enterprise),
don't join groups and political parties, and are collective-minded rather
than individualistic. Is this portrayal accurate?
Political scientists generally use public
opinion surveys to gain insights into a country's political culture.
Surprisingly, surveys conducted in post-communist Russia have found that overall
there is a high degree of support for basic democratic ideas. For the most
part, the Russian public favor individual rights like freedom of speech, the
right to form political associations, and freedom of press and religion.
Russians are tolerant of most groups (with the notable exceptions of
homosexuals and fascists), value the right to vote in free and fair
elections, and want their country to develop a political system based on the
rule of law. One study found that Russians living in and around Moscow were not much
different from West Europeans in their commitment to democratic rights.
Of course, Moscow
is the capital of Russia,
and Muscovites are more educated and more politically sophisticated than
people in the provinces. Voting results from the parliamentary and
presidential elections have shown the existence of a "red belt" of
support for the Communist Party, Agrarians, the Liberal Democratic Party, and
other nationalists in the rural areas of southern Russia
and in the Far East. These voters are less
democratic in their orientation. In addition, most Russians tend to favor a
stronger role for government in the economy, probably a residual of the
communist welfare state mentality. For example, 64 percent of respondents to
one 1994 survey by the Russian Institute of Public Opinion said that a
guaranteed education and social security were in their opinion the most
important human right. Nearly half (49 percent) said a wellpaying job was the
most important, while one-third said a guaranteed minimum standard of living
was. Only 18 percent listed freedom of speech as the most important right; 9
percent said the right to elect public officials was most important to them.
( Yuri Levada, Democratic
Disorder and Russian Public Opinion Trends in VCIOM Surveys, 1991-95,
University of Strathclyde, 1995).
The problem is that the average Russian does
not believe that he or she can influence the government in any meaningful
way. A 1998 survey by the Russian Bureau of Applied Sociological Research ( Nezavisimaya gazeta, August 6,
1998) found that fully 60
percent of people did not think they could influence public affairs by
voting. Only 23 percent of the respondents thought they could influence
politics through elections. Russians have a very low opinion of their
government. They view it as corrupt and unresponsive, even if it is far more
democratic than during the Soviet period. People are concerned with the
weakness of governmental authority--the government is unable to stop crime,
improve the economy, or deal effectively with the social problems discussed
earlier in this chapter.
Much of the blame
for this disgust with Russia's
government rests with Russia's
new leaders, who failed to manage either the political or the economic
transition successfully. During democratic transitions in Spain and Latin America,
influential elites worked out "pacts" or agreements among themselves
that set ground rules for everyone to follow. In Russia, however, no comparable
types of arrangements were concluded. Negotiated pacts on the future of
various major groups (business elites, military, police, and others formerly
in privileged positions) are important because they reduce uncertainty and
make a painful transition easier. In the absence of pacts, democratic
transitions can easily become what political scientists call a zero-sum game,
where one side's gain is always a loss for the other side. This clearly
happened in the immediate post-Soviet period. President Yeltsin and his
reformist team, Yegor Gaidar and Anatoly Chubais, approached politics from a
confrontational standpoint. Their opponents, the former Soviet Party and
government bureaucrats, were perceived not as a loyal opposition, but rather
as enemies. Those who did not support the administration's economic reform
program were excluded from any meaningful participation. The administration's
Western-oriented foreign policy contributed an additional divisive element to
Russia's
political debates.
One major problem in Russia's
transition was the absence of clearly identifiable social or political groups
with which the fledging Russian government could form pacts. Authoritarian
regimes that tolerate social and political pluralism improve the chances of a
successful democratic consolidation, for groups such as trade unions, women's
organization, farmers' groups, and civic associations often play a
responsible role in democratic transitioning. A complex fabric of social,
cultural, and political organizations made democratic transition easier in
the cases of Spain, South Korea, and Taiwan. By contrast, the
Communist Party's monopolization of political power in the former Soviet
Union and repression of all types of independent social groups retarded the
development of civil society in Russia.
Russia's post-communist
political leaders are deeply divided on political issues and have often
behaved irresponsibly. Russia's
fragmented political culture is reflected in the party system. Russia's
political spectrum in the 1990s was polarized along a single dimension,
between supporters and opponents of reform broadly defined. There were no
other major issues to bridge the gap that separated Russians of radically
differing opinions. This deep divide was apparent in both the 1993 and 1995
Duma elections. Moreover, most Russians cannot identify any philosophy or
belief system that could unify the country. The 1998 Bureau of Applied
Sociological Research study found only a handful of Russians who thought that
communist or socialist ideas could unify Russian society. Only 2.5 percent
thought religion was a unifying force, and democracy as an idea was mentioned
by just under 6 percent. By far the largest number (35.3 percent) cited
reviving Russia
as a great world power. Certainly nationalism is a potent unifying force
around the world, and promoting Russia as a great power is
popular among politicians (there is even a "Great Power" Party led
by former Vice President Aleksandr Rutskoi). But most Russians are too
consumed with the arduous tasks of everyday life to become active in either
the neo-Nazi skinhead or the more moderate Russian nationalist movements.
Organized political parties are an important
part of any successful democracy, but not all parties are democratic in their
orientation. In addition, the strength and appeal of parties tells us a great
deal about the political belief systems in a country. If a large segment of
the population votes for a fascist party, for example, we may conclude that
support for fascism is fairly strong. Russia's political spectrum, as
viewed through the prism of voter support for parties, is highly fractured.
Two of Russia's
political parties--the Communist Party-Russian Federation, led by Gennadii
Zyuganov, and Vladimir Zhirinovsky's Liberal Democratic Party--have advocated
ideas that call into question their commitment to democratic values. The
leaders and supporters of these parties claim that they accept and support Russia's
democratic constitutional order. But studies by Western political scientists
suggest that Communist and Liberal Democratic Party supporters have at best a
weak attachment to democratic norms. In public opinion surveys conducted
before the 1996 presidential elections, Russians who intended to vote for
Zyuganov or Zhirinovsky for President were somewhat more intolerant of
nonRussian ethnic groups than were supporters of President Yeltsin, Prime
Minister Viktor Chernomyrdin, or the democrats Gregorii Yavlinsky and Yegor
Gaidar. Supporters of these two parties tended to favor state intervention in
the economy and held more anti-Western attitudes. More important, supporters
of the Communists and Liberal Democrats were significantly more opposed to
democratic competition and were far more willing to support an effective
leader even if democracy was subverted in the process. For them democracy was
not terribly important in and of itself.
Over time, undemocratic parties may come to
accept democratic processes, as in the example of Italy's Communist Party.
Participation by the Russian Communist Party and the LDP in two rounds of
parliamentary elections, and even more important, their electoral success,
may have tempered their anti-democratic inclinations. The Communist Party's
decision in fall 1997 to abandon a no confidence vote against the government,
and the Party's participation in the trilateral commission negotiations on
the 1998 budget, may suggest the mainstreaming of Russia's communists. It
also bears noting that leaders of the more radical communist factions--Viktor
Anpilov of Workers' Russia, Viktor Tyulkin of the Russian Communist Workers'
Party, and Anatolii Kryuchkov of the Russian Party of Communists, have
accused Zyuganov of selling out to the government, as have more radical
elements within his own party.
The Communist Party's superior organization
and more effective national network of supporters have also given it an edge
over its democratic counterparts. This, together with the loyal support of older
Russians nostalgic for the stable communist past, resulted in the communists
winning 35 percent (157) of the Duma seats in the 1995 elections.
Paradoxically, it seems that Russia's
democratic electoral system favors an organization with less than democratic
inclinations and history. By contrast, the Liberal Democratic Party has been
both the creature and the victim of Vladimir Zhirinovsky. Over time, his
nationalist platform has been co-opted by the more moderate parties, while
Zhirinovsky's clownlike antics (punching out fellow legislators, posing for
magazines in his underwear) have discredited him as an individual politician
and have contributed to the weakening of the LDP. This may explain the
decline in LDP seats, from 63 (14.2 percent) in 1993 to 51 (11.3 percent) in
1995.
Russia's democratic
parties have not fared well in the new democratic environment. Ideological,
policy, and personal disputes have kept the democratic movement fractured and
divided. Gregorii Yavlinsky's Yabloko Party is attractive to intellectuals
and young urbanites, but this party gained only 10 percent of the seats in
the 1995 Duma elections. Yavlinsky has preferred criticizing Yeltsin's reform
program rather than cooperating with the President. Yeltsin himself has
refused to be aligned with any party, although in 1995 he did sanction Prime
Minister Viktor Chernomyrdin's formation of Our Home Is Russia, a centrist,
pro-reform party of the government. Our Home Is Russia was the second largest
faction of the four major parties after the 1995 election, with fifty-five
seats.
The fact that the 1995 parliamentary
elections and the 1996 presidential contest were relatively clean and
nonviolent (at least by comparison with the events of fall 1993), and
produced a divided government, suggests that political competition in Russia may be
evolving in a more moderate direction. The major critics of reform, the
communists, will over time be forced toward accommodation with the system or
toward extinction. The party's supporters are largely elderly--a 1995 survey
by American political scientists found that only 16.3 percent of those
intending to vote for Zyuganov in the 1996 presidential elections were under
age forty, compared with 45 percent for Yeltsin, 53.2 percent for Gaidar, and
42.9 percent for Yavlinsky. As older voters die off, and younger voters more
favorable toward democracy fill the gap, support for the Communist Party is
likely to decline.
While Russia's leaders may not be
whole-hearted converts to democracy, neither have they been willing to
jettison basic democratic principles. When Yeltsin's popularity ratings hit
the single digits in early 1996, some of his hard-line advisors, most notably
Aleksandr Korzhakov, seriously considered cancelling the elections scheduled
for June. Yeltsin's more democratic-minded staff prevailed, but his victory
was achieved through a campaign that witnessed the massive use of government
money to support Yeltsin (and General Aleksandr Lebed, whose 15 percent
showing in the first round siphoned votes from Yeltsin's prime opponent,
Communist Party leader Zyuganov), manipulation of state television, and some
extraordinarily negative advertising. The crisis atmosphere generated during
the presidential campaign, the choice posed in the runoff election between
the reformist status quo and a return to some form of communist dictatorship,
and serious campaign irregularities suggested that Russia was not yet a
"normal" democracy.
Yeltsin's commitment to democracy was
further compromised by rumors in fall 1997 that he might consider running for
a third term in 2000. Presidential spokesman Sergei Yastrzhembskii suggested
that, since Yeltsin was initially elected under Russia's old constitution, he
might not be bound by the two-term limit of the new constitution. Yeltsin
later discounted the rumors, which prompted an appeal for a Constitutional Court
ruling from members of the Duma. This incident seemed typical of Yeltsin's
tendency toward authoritarian maneuvering. This behavior seems to be
characteristic of presidents in delegative democracies, who frequently extend
their tenure through extraconstitutional means or by securing appointment to
another influential position. In late 1998 the Constitutional Court ruled that Yeltsin
was ineligible to run for another term. By that point, however, his continued
ill health made another four years seem highly improbable.
Russia's problems in
consolidating democracy may in part be a func tion of the duration of the
totalitarian experience, and in part a function of Russian political culture.
The communist experience made transition to a functioning market economy
extraordinary difficult and emasculated all possible contenders for political
power. When communism collapsed the Yeltsin administration, instead of
building consensus and integrating society and the state, pursued a political
discourse of conflict and division. Communist and nationalist opposition
forces in the Parliament left him little room for compromise. The
government's economic and political policies did not discredit supporters of
the old order, but instead cemented the division between reformers and
reactionaries that had emerged under Gorbachev. With the Parliament under the
influence of fundamentally undemocratic forces, constructive interaction
between executive and legislature proved difficult to achieve. Russia's
painful economic transition, conflict over basic constitutional provisions,
and the polarization of Russian society stymied the development of a web of
complementary democratic institutions needed for true representative
democracy.
The thorough penetration of society by
Soviet party-state structures and the extension of this apparatus into all
areas of economic, social, and cultural life meant that civil society had
been almost completely repressed. Russia still lacks a strong
network of social and political organizations capable of involving citizens
in civic life. Public opinion surveys conducted in 1995 found that only 1.2
percent of Russians belonged to political parties, 1.6 percent to church groups,
2.4 percent to business associations, and 4.3 percent to professional groups.
Although 44 percent belonged to trade unions in 1993, this declined to 33.4
percent in 1995, most likely due to privatization and increasing
unemployment. This "atomization" of Russian life inhibits the
development of a civic culture so important in sustaining democracy.
While strong and continuous economic growth
generates favorable conditions for democratic consolidation, economic crisis
can undermine a new democracy. The process of simultaneous economic and
political transitioning that led to Russia's economic free-fall
exacerbated social stratification, polarized the country's politics, and
relegated women to more traditional roles. Russia's transition to a market
economy has yielded deep class divisions, rather than the solid middle class
that many political theorists argue is critical for democracy. According to
the World Bank, in 1993 the highest 20 percent of income earners in Russia
received 53.8 percent of all income. The ability of Russia's
small political and In new democracies, political movements and parties are
needed to integrate social fabrics strained by the transition process. The
Soviet Communist Party prohibited all other political groups and any type of
political opposition--there were no alternative institutions that could play
an important role in consolidating democracy. The Russian Orthodox Church
could bring the country together, as the Polish Catholic Church did in the
1980s, but Russian Orthodoxy has a history of supporting or at least
tolerating authoritarian governance. The Orthodox clergy's authoritarian
streak was manifested in the Church's strong support for Russia's
restrictive religious law, enacted in 1997.
Russian political parties have made only
modest contributions to democratic consolidation. The problem is, Russians
tend to distrust all political parties. Data collected by Richard Rose's New
Russia Barometer II survey (Centre for the Study of Public Policy, University of Strathclyde) in 1993 indicated that 93
percent of Russian respondents distrusted parties. Government offices and
political parties are justifiably perceived as sinecures for personal gain
rather than vehicles for the legitimate fulfillment of societal interests.
Identifying with political parties helps citizens in a transitional democracy
to develop more coherent belief systems. To the extent that political parties
are weak, citizens' political beliefs may prove more susceptible to change in
response to volatile economic or social conditions, making them more easily
mobilized by political extremists.
Finally, Russia's weak judicial system
also hinders the development of civil society and by extension the consolidation
of democracy. The ability of interest groups to use the courts to hold public
officials accountable, a common tactic of environmental and women's groups in
the United States, is very
poorly developed in Russia.
Other factors have impeded the formation of effective interest groups in
Russian society--lack of resources, perceptions of government as
unresponsive, and general apathy--but the absence of effective judicial
institutions is critical.
RUSSIA IN THE WORLD
The humiliation of the
Soviet collapse, the loss of influence in Eastern Europe and the Third World, and the rapid growth of poverty have
wounded the national pride of many Russians. The so-called national patriots--groups
like Vladimir Zhirinovsky's Liberal Democrats and the more extremist Russian
National Union, headed by Aleksandr Sterligov, a former KGB officer, are
enraged that Russia
is no longer a superpower. Many detest the democratic ideals and
parliamentary systems of Western Europe and the United States. Highly xenophobic,
they fear the influence of the World Bank, the International Monetary Fund,
Jewish banks, and other Western organizations on Russia's economy and politics.
Zhirinovsky , in his book Last
Thrust to the South, argues that Russia's destiny lies east and
south, with the Asian and Middle Eastern nations. According to him, it is Russia's historical mission to rule in Asia;
Russian troops should wash their boots in the warm waters of the Indian Ocean. Zhirinovsky was born in Alma Ata, the
former capital of Kazakhstan,
and exhibits the classic Russian imperial mentality. Not only has he declared
his intention to recapture much of the former USSR
for Moscow; he also on occasion has threatened
to take back Alaska!
The outrageous claims of Russian extremists
masked a deeper problem: How would a non-communist Russia define its place in world
politics? The Soviet communist state had a definite mission and identity,
namely, the promotion and leadership of world communism. Moscow may have paid only lip-service to this
ideal through most of Soviet history, but at least the country had a clear
raison d'etre. New Russia
suffers from an identity crisis. Some, particularly the democratically minded
reformers, want their country to take its place among the modern European
nations. Others argue that Russian values and traditions have little in
common with Europe or America,
that Russia's historical
influences came from the East, and that Russia
could play a role as a unique bridge between Europe and Asia.
If Soviet foreign policy was shaped by a
Marxist-Leninist worldview and the pursuit of military hegemony or dominance,
Russian foreign policy in the Yeltsin era has been driven mostly by economic
considerations. Russia
has borrowed heavily from the IMF, has sought loans and investment from
Western and Asian nations, and in general has tried to integrate into the
world economy. Russian citizens are free to travel around the world on
business, for vacations, or to emigrate. Russia
no longer subsidizes radical Third World
movements. This turnaround in foreign policy has transformed the United States and Russia from former enemies into
partners on many fronts, if not the warmest of allies. However, as successor
to the USSR, Russia is owed billions of dollars by Iraq, Iran,
North Korea, and others
the United States
considers "rogue" nations. Moscow's
opposition to U.S. air
strikes against Iraq and Serbia, and its nuclear power deals with Iran and India
have antagonized Washington.
The United States is also
concerned about Russia's arms
sales to the People's Republic of China, which totaled about $6
billion from 1992 to 1998. But for Russian defense firms hard hit by the
economic collapse, these weapons deliveries, which include modern Su-27
fighters, are indeed welcome.
A priority of the United States and its NATO
allies in Europe was to encourage and support the progress of newly
democratizing states in Eastern Europe, to facilitate Russian troop
withdrawals from Eastern Europe, to ensure orderly reductions of Russia's
massive weapons stores, and to support Russia's new democracy. NATO's
Partnership for Peace program was one means of linking the post-communist
states to the Western democracies. Military cooperation between Russia and the United States, unthinkable a few
years earlier, became commonplace. But some tensions remained. For example,
Russian politicians protested loudly NATO's plan to admit Poland, Hungary,
and the Czech Republic to membership. All three did
become members of NATO in 1999. Russian Duma deputies resisted ratifying the
START II agreement, signed in 1993, which would reduce the nuclear stockpiles
of both countries to about 3,000 warheads each. They feared this would give
the United States a
significant advantage in conventional weaponry, although most Russian generals
argued that the treaty would benefit Russia
as much as it would America.
In early 1999, Washington's fears of
ballistic missile attack from terrorist states led it to seek a renegotiation
of the 1972 ABM Treaty, a proposal that was vigorously opposed by Moscow. Finally,
Russian nationalists have criticized NATO's occasional use of force against
Serbs to protect Bosnian Muslims and Kosovar Albanians in former Yugoslavia.
Yevgeny Primakov, Foreign Minister from 1996
to 1998 and then Prime Minister from 1998 to 1999, was a vocal advocate of
restoring Russia's
position as a great world power. Trained as a Middle
East specialist, Primakov was far more experienced and savvy
than his youthful predecessor as Foreign Minister, Andrei Kozyrev. Respected
in Western capitals as a tough negotiator, Primakov favored cooperating with
the West while remaining determined to protect Russia's national interests. The
political climate in Russia
at the close of the twentieth century virtually guarantees that Primakov's successors,
and Yeltsin's, will need to pursue policies aimed at making Russia once
again a powerful world presence.
The major foreign policy concerns for Russia now include the unstable arc along Russia's southern border--the Caucasus, Turkey, Iran,
Iraq, Afghanistan, Pakistan,
and India.
Russia maintains troops in
Georgia and Tajikistan
and has defense arrangements with the Central Asian states through the CIS. China is very important in Russian foreign
policy, in part because of the money earned from arms sales, but also because
China's
position in world affairs is growing rapidly. South
Korea is investing in the Russian Far East and other
areas of the country, and Russian shuttle traders regularly visit Pusan and Seoul to buy up
Korean goods for resale in Russia.
And in 1997-1998 there was a flurry of Russian-Japanese diplomacy aimed at
resolving the long-standing dispute over the Northern
Territories and concluding a peace treaty, which could
strengthen Russia's
position in the Asian-Pacific.
But Russia, for all its pretensions,
is no longer taken very seriously in world politics. Europe and Asia may
include the Russian Federation
as a courtesy in regional meetings, but Russia seldom commands attention
or respect. In large part this is because Russia's
economy is now comparable to that of the small country of the Netherlands, and the economic collapse has
gutted Russia's
once-powerful military. In the late Soviet era there were 5 million men under
arms; by 1999 the Russian military had been reduced to 1.2 million. In the
1990s draft evasion and desertion were rampant, conscripts suffered from
hazing and malnutrition, and many of the best officers had left for the
private business sector. Ships rusted in port, and pilots were grounded
because of fuel shortages. Perhaps most disturbing from the perspective of
Western governments, chaos in the armed forces raised the possibility that
Russian nuclear weapons or weapons-grade fuel could fall into the hands of
terrorists.
As Russian military sociologists point out, the
military reflects larger trends in society. In both, discipline has broken
down, suicides are up, corruption is rampant, and there is little confidence
in the future. At the end of the twentieth century, Russia was a
nation in crisis, economically, militarily, culturally, and politically.
Winston Churchill once remarked that the Soviet Union
was a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma. That was during the
Stalin era, when we knew very little about the inner workings of this huge,
secretive communist state. Now we are deluged with information, albeit much
of it contradictory and confusing. The great mystery about Russia today is
how a country with so much potential, with a long and remarkable history,
with such educated and talented people, and such a wealth of natural
resources, could do such an abysmally poor job of constructing a successful
economy and a viable democracy.
CHARLES
E. ZIEGLER is Professor and Chair of the Political Science Department at the University of Louisville. He is the author of Foreign Policy and East Asia ( 1993), Environmental Policy in the USSR ( 1987), and dozens of scholarly
articles and book chapters.
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