Beyond Peace (9 page)

Yeltsin in the meantime should be supported but not idolized. Western officials have sometimes gone too far in taking an uncritical view of Russia's actions. By saying that nothing in Yeltsin's domestic conduct or Russia's conduct vis-à-vis other post-Soviet states gives the West cause for concern, Western officials have ignored some aspects of Moscow's recent behavior that cannot help but worry the West, even as it continues to support Yeltsin. By idealizing Yeltsin's government, the West runs the risk of personalizing its Russian policy and creating a potential trap for itself. If he fails to live up to our overly optimistic expectations, the West's Russian policy—while basically sound—may lose public support.

We should avoid giving Yeltsin the false impression that as long as he maintains fundamental commitments to economic reform and to a peaceful relationship with the West, other things do not matter. I was disturbed to hear from Russian officials that the United States had told them in advance that it would be all right to take “resolute” steps against the Parliament as long
as they accelerated economic reforms. Encouraging departures from democracy in a country with such an autocratic tradition as Russia's is like trying to put out a fire with combustible materials. The American public can stomach only so much restriction of freedom. This is a fact of U.S. political life, and to let Yeltsin believe otherwise is a disservice both to him and to the U.S.-Russian relationship.

While supporting Yeltsin, we should remember that there are other democrats in Russia—many of whom have disagreements with him about the constitutional division of labor between the executive and legislative branches, the type and pace of economic reforms, and the tactics of Russian foreign policy.

I have met with numerous Russian democratic politicians who have differed with Yeltsin. All of them—although stressing Russia's specific national security interests—demonstrated strong interest in continuing a strategic partnership with the United States. Nothing can be gained and a great deal can be lost by recklessly alienating these political elements. It would be a mistake to play favorites in Russian politics by supporting the most radical reformers at the expense of everyone else. Such tactical errors would put at risk the broad-based constituency needed in Russia to build a new relationship with the United States.

Russia now has a democratic government. As is the case in our relations with other democratic governments, we should negotiate exclusively with the elected leaders, but we should keep channels of communication open to members of the loyal opposition. Under no circumstances should we take sides in political campaigns in which both candidates share our values and are supportive of a friendly U.S.-Russia relationship.

In the wake of the 1993 elections, Boris Yeltsin is still a political heavyweight, but he is no longer a superman. In 1994, for the first time in ten visits to Moscow in thirty-five years, I was able to meet with all the leading opposition leaders. When Russia was a dictatorship as part of the Soviet Union, a
good relationship with the man at the top was all that was necessary. That is no longer the case. The Boris-Bill relationship in our case and the Boris-Helmut relationship for the Germans are no longer enough—not only because other leaders have come to the fore, but because of the decline in Yeltsin's authority that has resulted from his recent behavior.

If we do not develop good working relationships with the new generation of Russian leaders, we will be caught flat-footed by unexpected shifts in the political landscape, as we were by the strong showing of Vladimir Zhirinovsky's Liberal Democratic Party in December's parliamentary elections. Our Moscow-based diplomats, who once composed entire cables based on observing who was standing next to Brezhnev on top of Lenin's Tomb during the Soviet Union's annual May Day parade, must now learn to appreciate all the subtle gradations of political thought in the new Russia. As Russia's economy grows and matures, our political and economic officers must overcome their bureaucratic aversion to the nuts and bolts of business and private investment. They also need a more sophisticated grasp of monetary and fiscal policy. Reading tea leaves and reporting barroom gossip about who was up and who was down once passed for diplomacy in communist Moscow, but it will not wash in free Moscow, any more than it does in postings such as Paris, Bonn, or Tokyo.

On March 14, 1994, I had the privilege of being the first American in history to address a formal meeting of an elected Russian Parliament when I appeared before an expanded hearing of the Committee on Foreign Relations of the State Duma, the lower house of the new Russian Parliament. The questions, posed by representatives of parties from Zhirinovsky's Liberal Democrats to the Women of Russia, were wide-ranging and blunt. There were no softballs. As I fielded the deputies' pointed queries about U.S. “meddling” in Russian internal affairs, the intentions of the United States and NATO in Eastern Europe, and many other issues, I realized that there was no more dramatic
illustration of Russia's emergence as a democratic state than this new forum for debate and decision making. After the December elections, many in the West expressed disappointment that the Duma was not more reflective of Yeltsin's wishes. In fact, the Duma is reflective of Russia—its diversity, its disunity, and its potential for greatness. The highest priority for President Yeltsin and his successors will be marshaling the political and creative energy of their vast nation by building sturdy governing coalitions in Parliament. Even more important, the Duma is the breeding ground for future Presidents. Every leading candidate in the 1996 elections, with the exception of Alexander Rutskoi, is a Duma deputy.

Russians will have a wide variety of choice. The second-most-popular politician in the country after Yeltsin is Gregory Yavlinski, author of Gorbachev's never-implemented Five Hundred Days reform plan. He is charismatic and intelligent, and he gets excellent press in the United States because he speaks English and takes a strong line in favor of free enterprise. Sergei Shahrai, Minister of Nationalities, was one of the most thoughtful leaders I met in the new group of those in their late thirties and early forties. His keen insights about the need to find new ways to cope with simmering tensions among Russia's scores of nationalities and ethnic groups are particularly impressive. Economics Minister Alexander Shokhin is now the government's key reformer. If he meets and masters the numerous challenges now before him, he is a certain contender for the Presidency. Viktor Chernomyrdin, the fifty-five-year-old Prime Minister, is generally acknowledged to be the front-runner to succeed Yeltsin when he completes his term. One Western leader with whom I have discussed Russian politics summed up Chernomyrdin's strengths and weaknesses perfectly: “He is dry, nonvisionary, like an accountant,” he said. “But he is a great pragmatist. We could have worse than that. Also, he keeps his promises.”

Many in the West were shocked when former Vice President Alexander Rutskoi and others charged in the armed uprising
against the Yeltsin government last October were released from prison by the State Duma's grant of amnesty to them and to those who had tried to overthrow Gorbachev in August 1991. Outrage was understandable. Lives were lost during Rutskoi's October uprising, and Yeltsin went to great lengths in his attempt to prevent the amnesty. For all this, Rutskoi's almost certain reentry into public life will have a positive political impact.

In March 1994, I called on General Rutskoi, whom I had met twice before, in his apartment in Moscow. He is a ramrod-straight war hero who looks at the world in a pointedly direct way. He had been out of prison for only ten days and was still wearing the beard he had grown during his five months there. Our talk had an eerie quality because of a simultaneous and totally incomprehensible conversation between two large parrots in separate cages in the middle of Rutskoi's sitting room. He apologized for the noise, saying that the birds had had more room in his dacha, but that the Yeltsin government had taken the dacha away. The birds were not speaking English, and I knew enough Russian to know they weren't speaking Russian. He said that he had acquired them during a tour in Kuala Lumpur, and that they spoke only Malaysian.

Rutskoi said that he intended to run for President in 1996 but added ruefully that while he was in prison Zhirinovsky had “appropriated a lot of my political base.” As we discussed his impressions of the domestic scene, including the shocking rise in both organized crime and street crime in Russia, he said somewhat ominously, “I am able to bring law and order. I know how to do it.” He predicted that Russia's transition to true democracy would take a minimum of ten years.

Rutskoi, Zhirinovsky, and others with comparable views appeal to those who miss what they remember as the Soviet Union's proud imperial past and who are also convinced that Russia's enormous problems require a strong, authoritarian hand at the helm. One reason Zhirinovsky's showing in the December parliamentary elections was so dramatic was that the
substantial pro-reform vote was split among several parties. In the next election the reformers' goal must be to overcome their differences and at the same time encourage divisions among the anti-reform candidates. It will help reform enormously if Rutskoi and Zhirinovsky end up competing for the same votes.

While I was opposed to the amnesty when it was first granted, my talks in Moscow convinced me that it was necessary. It was needed to transform Rutskoi's status from jailed hero to everyday politician and to help Yeltsin and the government deal with their political and policy challenges. For weeks in Moscow, as the economy continued to deteriorate, all anyone talked about was whether Rutskoi and his fellow prisoners should be granted amnesty. As Sergei Shahrai told me, the prisoners' release resulted in a limited but crucial period of entente between President Yeltsin and the State Duma—a window during which Russia could move forward if both sides used the time well.

Zhirinovsky, leader of the ultranationalist Liberal Democratic Party, has a charismatic personality and is endowed with physical dynamism. Winston Churchill called Parnell “a volcano under an ice cap.” In Zhirinovsky's case there is no ice cap. He is a ruthless demagogue whose outrageous views bubble out of him almost without restraint. But he is canny enough to know that he is striking chords with those Russians who bemoan the loss of their empire and resent foreigners' incessant lecturing. When I questioned him in March 1994 about some of his most ludicrous statements—that California would one day become part of Mexico, that Miami would be a black republic, that Paris would be an Arab city—he began his answers by referring to polls that showed how popular his positions were. He hotly denied he was anti-Semitic. His numerous statements to the contrary are a matter of public record. But those who say he is a Russian Hitler miss the mark. For Hitler, anti-Semitism was a faith. For Zhirinovsky, it is a tactic—a cynical attempt to exploit popular biases and resentments.

I share the view of Ukrainian President Leonid Kravchuk and of virtually all the other Russian leaders I met that Zhirinovsky will not be elected President of Russia. He lacks both the presence and the conviction to lead a great nation. One of his top deputies told us that Zhirinovsky had intentionally adopted the extravagant posture of a holy fool, or
yurodiviye
—an opposition figure who, because everyone knows he is not up to the job, is not punished for his outrageous views. The Russian people have a soft spot for holy fools, but they have never become Russian leaders, as Zhirinovsky will discover when he enters the presidential sweepstakes.

The important thing about Zhirinovsky is that his success at the polls has created a bloc of support upon which some other, more palatable leader could well build a credible platform for seizing political power. One of Russia's leading reformers told me, “Thank God we have Zhirinovsky as we have him now. It would be much worse if we had someone stronger as the beneficiary of this situation.” Those who spend so much time demonizing him would do well to work to ensure that a more formidable devil does not rise in his place. The most effective way to relegate extremist political figures to a permanent place on the sidelines in Russia, as anywhere else, is to attack the root causes of their popularity. This means focusing our attention on bringing about the victory of economic stability and political pluralism in the new Russia. If Russia is strong, Zhirinovsky and his ilk will be speaking to an empty hall. If Russia is weak, no amount of internal or international condemnation will stop his movement from bringing Russia to the brink of chaos.

As far as the ultranationalists and communists are concerned, we should be careful where and how we indicate our profound disagreement with their philosophy and actions. Public criticism by U.S. officials delivered on Russian soil can play into the hands of xenophobic demagogues, helping them to consolidate their political base and generate an anti-American backlash. Most Americans would not appreciate it if visiting foreign
leaders attacked an American politician who had won millions of votes, even if they found his views abhorrent.

In developing a policy toward the new Russia, we must begin by recognizing that the Russians did not lose the Cold War. The communists did. The United States and our allies deserve credit for holding the line against Soviet expansionism in Europe and turning back Soviet probes in the Third World. But the knockout blow to Soviet communism was delivered by democratic forces in Moscow who defeated the reactionary coup in August 1991 and then buried the Soviet Union the following December.

We should therefore treat the Russians not as defeated enemies but as allies who joined with us in defeating Soviet communism in its heartland—Russia. As Al Haig has observed, “The American arms buildup and tough diplomacy contributed to the Soviet disaster. But that disaster was fundamentally made in Moscow. A militant multinational empire equipped by an archaic ideology gradually choked on its own contradictions, inefficiencies, and corruptions.”