And yet I can’t help being astounded by the Russian leader.
Putin did not invent thievery and corruption in Russia. The Russian language
even has a word for it, kaznokradstvo – which
translates into English as embezzlement of public funds. But Putin has been
doing it with gay abandon, raising embezzlement to a new level. Panama papers
reveal that he has been collecting kickbacks from everyone in sight – and it is
just one cache of cash he has amassed – using one law first and one money
laundering channel.
Pathological accumulation of wealth suggests that in the back
of his mind Putin has been hoping to retire from politics and live the life of
a Roman Abramovich – traveling the world, serially marrying models, building a
huge yacht, collecting works of art and owning an English soccer club.
Chances of that happening were always slim, but the real death
knell for any such plans was sounded only after he became entangled in Ukraine.
Why did he decide to turn himself and his country into an international pariahs
and, more to the point, make his considerable fortune all but useless to
himself?
The answer may be provided by that elusive concept, Russia’s
national idea.
Since the fall of communism, Russia’s national idea has been
extensively debated. Earlier this year, Putin contributed to this discussion by
saying that Russia’s national idea is patriotism.
Coming from a man who has been systematically robbing his
country, undermining its institutions and destroying its future for generations
to come, it was, of course, a powerful statement. But the truth is that even
ordinary citizens, both ethnic Russians and others, are not that good at
patriotism – and certainly no better than many other nations.
What Russians have been uniquely good at is territorial
expansion. They are second to none in capturing and holding on to large chunks
of land. From the time the Grand Duchy of Muscovy came into its own in the
mid-15th century and the start of World War I – i.e., for nearly half a
millennium – Russia was adding territory at a pace of more than 3 square
kilometers per hour – not counting Alaska and the land lost to Japan in 1905.
The expansion went on in every direction at all times and
occurred under every czar, regardless their domestic policies. If it ran into
resistance at one end – as it increasingly did in the 19th century – Russia
simply shifted its sights on a different chunk of land, often returning when
circumstances changed.
The purpose of this never-ending expansion is hard to discern.
Empires tend to enrich their citizens by despoiling their colonial subjects.
Russia didn’t necessarily do it – at least no more than it robbed its own
people. On the contrary, Russians always paid a high price in blood and
treasure for their Empire. There wasn’t a major security rationale in
expanding, either, since its borders were rarely threatened from the south or
the east.
Russia did declare itself protector of Slavs and Christians
under Ottoman rule, but it was for the purposes of expansion and not out of
some real concern for them. It expanded with equal enthusiasm into lands
populated by Muslims and pagans; unlike great religious empires in history, it
didn’t put much effort into converting its subjects.
It was, for the most part, an expansion for its own sake.
Russia’s history has been interrupted and refocused several
times over the past century. The nation has tried on more than one occasion to
put its past behind it and start from a clean sheet. But its national idea
invariably caught up with it.
Lenin’s Bolsheviks were determined to destroy the Empire.
Prominent among them were members of various oppressed minorities – Poles,
Latvians, Ukrainians, Jews, Georgians and others. The first thing they did was
to reject any of the territorial additions that Russia was about to gain in the
division of spoils – from Turkey, Persia and Austria – and to publish the
czar’s secret agreements with the Allies that covered them.
Bolsheviks initially declared the principle of
self-determination in relations with subject peoples. Five new nations emerged
as a result, but before the Civil War was over the new government began
crushing national aspirations across the old Empire, liquidating independent
governments in Ukraine, the Caucasus and elsewhere and making a play for
Poland, too.
By 1939 Stalin was a full-blown imperialist, gathering old
imperial lands in the west. After the war, he expanded the Empire into Europe
all the way past Berlin and recovered the lost half of Sakhalin Island along
with other lands from Japan. Khruschev defended new possessions by moving
troops to Hungary and gained Russia its first overseas satellite, Cuba, even as
the great European overseas empires crumbled.
Ironically, the Soviet imperial project foundered in
Afghanistan, where Brezhnev’s Russia returned for the first time since playing
the “Great Game” with Britain. Ten years after Russian troops invaded Kabul,
Russia lost its Eastern European possessions, and two years later the Soviet
Union collapsed as well.
In the 1990s, Russia tried to turn over a new leaf and develop
its own neglected territory while joining the community of nations not as a
rapacious land-grabber but a responsible partner. That new attempt also ended
in failure, and now Putin has once more fallen into the trap of history,
annexing Crimea and trying to win back Eastern Ukraine.
Foreign observers and independent analysts in Russia have been
trying to understand why on earth Putin has chosen this course, which hurts his
own self-interest as well as those of his entourage and the country as a whole.
Was he trying to boost his flagging popularity? Did he really fear that NATO
had designs on Sevastopol? Did he care about the wishes of Russian-speaking
Ukrainians? Did he want to put Washington on notice that Russia was still a
superpower?
Whatever the real explanation – and there was probably a
combination of factors involved – the net result is that Russia has been
dragged back into land expansion. And, before long, Russia found itself at
loggerhead with an old enemy, Turkey. The pretext for the conflict may have
been accidental, but the Groundhog Day-like return of history is unmistakable.
And, judging by the ecstatic reaction to all this in Russia,
the expansion is part of the country’s cultural DNA and the Russian people are
willing to suffer any kind of privations and oppression for the sake of
enlarging their already enormous, impoverished country.
Russia’s old-new expansionism puts it on a conflict path with
Washington. The United States is also an expansionist power, but its
expansionism is not territorial. It is a business expansion and for that it
needs solid borders, stability and a set of international laws which most
players more or less respect. By trying to undermine this “unipolar” world
order, Putin may be opening a Pandora’s box. Territorial expansion is not dead
– it is merely dormant. Irredentist feeling endures in parts of Europe,
territorial conflicts simmer in Asia, Africa and elsewhere. Notably, China has
a not-so-latent claim on parts of Russia.
Unlike previous eras, Russia is no longer equipped to compete
for territory. Over the past century, wars, repressions, emigration and social
collapse decimated the once extremely populous country. Even more important,
Russia has become de-industrialized and lags far behind other nations in all
aspects of modern technology. A poor, backward and depopulated land, it may be
a tempting prize for others looking to enlarge their territory.
