I first reported from Moscow at the tail end of Leonid Brezhnev’s “era of stagnation” in the early 1980s. It was a time when de Custine’s trenchant observations provided ready ammunition for those who argued that the Soviet system was a natural product of Russia’s history. Harvard historian Richard Pipes, a leading proponent of that view, talked about “the continuity of the police mentality in Russia irrespective of the regime.” (De Custine again: “In Russia, fear replaces, that is to say, paralyzes thought.”) On a visit to Moscow after Khodorkovsky’s arrest for alleged economic crimes, I found the discussion about its deeper implications–does it expose Russian capitalism and Putin’s “managed democracy” as a sham?–quite familiar.
I knew the Soviet Union, and Russia today is no Soviet Union. It looks, feels and is different. And likewise, the Soviet system was far different from its regal predecessor. Pipes asserted that the Soviet system was a logical extension of tsarist repression. In fact, it was a quantum leap, making the prerevolutionary regime’s tactics look amateurish compared with the wholesale terror unleashed by Lenin and Stalin. But even if we’re talking about three distinct periods of Russian history, they contain common elements that emerge most clearly in a crisis like the Khodorkovsky affair.
At the top of the list is the propensity of Russian rulers to think about power first and economics later–which explains why Russia has never lived up to its economic potential. Khodorkovsky’s arrest jolted the stock market and gave foreign investors a case of the jitters. And then what happened? Instead of trying to calm the nerves of the business community–Yukos is the biggest company in Russia’s most important industry–a government minister sparked a new scare by suggesting that the company could “immediately lose the licenses for its oilfields.” In other words, the government was prepared to strangle Yukos even more–especially if Khodorkovsky makes good on speculation that he’ll try to run for president, whether from in or out of prison. As writer Victor Erofeyev explains, Putin wants to make clear that “he alone is No. 1.”
Putin later said that there was no plan to rescind oilfield licenses, or to renationalize Yukos. That seemingly reassured the business community, but the mixed signals were reminiscent of the old era. In Soviet days, there were splits between “hawks and doves” in the Politburo, which allowed the party leader to blame nasty deeds on zealous, behind-the-scenes hard-liners.
Then there’s the handling of dissent. Even the Soviet system allowed for “vents,” the odd heretical article or play exposing wrongdoing and registering frustration. So long as their audiences were limited, intellectuals were free to let off some steam. Despite crackdowns, today’s Russian press still churns out far more critical reporting than ever was possible in Soviet times. But newspapers and magazines no longer reach a mass audience; only TV does. And there the Kremlin has regained near-total control. “[It issues] ultimatums all the time,” one TV journalist told me, insisting on the old rules of anonymity. “They tell you: ‘If you do that, it will be your last program’.”
But the worst relic of the old systems is corruption. It’s not just the shady deals and the assassinations of anyone–provincial editors, prominent politicians–who gets in the way of biznes. It’s the moral corruption that seeps into every aspect of life, including a press that is willing to write zakazukhas, or laudatory articles for a fee. It’s a system, whether Soviet or Russian, that has so many contradictory, impossible rules that anyone who achieves economic success can be accused of violating them. That’s very convenient for the government–and breeds corrosive cynicism about everyone’s motives.
Yes, the oligarchs shamelessly and ruthlessly divvied up the spoils of the Soviet Union. But it’s hard to imagine that Putin believes his own protestation–that he’s only upholding the rule of law when he goes after Khodorkovsky or, before him, Vladimir Gusinsky or Boris Berezovsky (see The Last Word), who just happened to be the oligarchs who challenged him politically before they were driven into exile. After all, Putin is a Soviet-bred, new Russian leader. And there’s nothing contradictory about that.
