Henry Kissinger offers an optimistic outlook on Dmitri Medvedev and Russian democracy in a recent Washington Post op-ed:
Whatever the ultimate outcome, the last Russian election marks a transition from a phase of consolidation to a period of modernization. The ceding of power by a ruler at the height of his influence is unprecedented in Russian history. The growing complexity of the economy has generated the need for predictable legal procedures, as already foreshadowed by Medvedev. The government’s operation — at least initially — with two centers of power may, in retrospect, appear to be the beginning of an evolution toward a form of checks and balances.
A Russian democracy is not foreordained, of course. But neither was the democratic evolution in the West.
Medvedev’s words more than foreshadow the fundamentals of liberalism. Earlier this year, he pledged respect for the rule of law and “freedom in all its forms.” Last week, he said “we should fight neglect of the law and legal nihilism; the economy should be based on market values, and property rights should always be protected.” Plus, his career as a law professor and detachment from the state security apparatus suggest that he comes from a culture of deference to law before state power.
But it’s hard to see that deference in action with Khodorkovsky still in jail, Lugovoi happily serving in the Duma, and nasty grumbles in Abkhazia and the Czech Republic. Moreover, as chairman of Gazprom, Russia’s state-owned gas behemoth, Medvedev wasn’t exactly a champion of the market, and Putin’s undemocratic turnover of the government was far from a Washingtonian succession.
I’m more inclined to see Medvedev as a Tom Hagen to Putin’s circle of siloviki — a public face who keeps his hands clean but stays loyal to the leader he’s advised for 17 years. As nicely as that analogy may fit, however, it seems a bit too simple. This article on Putin’s government, published well before the Medvedev transition, identified three factions in the Kremlin: liberals (then marginalized, now extinct), technocrats, and siloviki. Medvedev has something for everyone — a liberal education, a technocratic career, and years of proximity to Putin. Combined with the wide swath of constitutional powers afforded the President and Putin’s attempts to keep each faction under his own control, it’s clear that two centers of power have emerged, as Kissinger notes. But whether or not they will check and balance or defer and divide remains unseen.
Regardless, one thing is clear:
Ever since the demise of the Soviet Union in 1991, a succession of U.S. administrations has acted as if the creation of Russian democracy were a principal American task. Speeches denouncing Russian shortcomings and gestures drawn from the Cold War have occurred frequently. Proponents of such policies assert that the transformation of Russian society is the precondition of a more harmonious international order. They argue that if pressure is maintained on the current Russia, it, too, will eventually implode. Yet assertive intrusion into what Russians consider their own sense of self runs the risk of thwarting both geopolitical and moral goals.
If two decades of nagging haven’t transformed Russian democracy, it’s time to give it up. That doesn’t mean giving up on democracy — foreign policymakers ought to be clear that we support real independence for Georgia and Ukraine. But easing up on the rhetoric and cooperating without co-opting when our interests run parallel may well be the best way to let true Russian liberalism emerge.
