The history of authoritarian rule in Russia displays a certain depressing regularity. Such regimes rarely perish from external shocks or opposition pressure. As a rule, they die unexpectedly from some internal disease — from irresistible existential disgust at themselves, from their own exhaustion.
Czarist rule withstood many harsh tests during its long history: peasant revolts, conspiracies and the alienation of the educated class.
In January 1917, from his Swiss exile, Lenin noted with bitterness and hopelessness that: “We, the old, will hardly live till the decisive battles of that forthcoming revolution. But … the young maybe will be lucky not only to fight, but finally win in the approaching proletarian revolution.”
By the following March, however, Czar Nicolas II was forced to abdicate.
Then-general secretary Yuri Andropov died in 1984, leaving behind a country cleansed of dissidents. But when some years later one of his former regional first secretaries, one Boris Yeltsin, signed a decree banning the Communist Party, none of the 18 million party members went to the streets to protest.
Today, before our very eyes, Russian Prime Minister Vladimir Putin’s once seemingly impregnable regime may be fading in the same way as its predecessors. In just ten years, Putinism, which was consciously designed by its image-makers as a simulacrum of a great ideological style, has run through all the classical stages of Soviet history. Indeed, Putinism now seems like a trite parody of all of them.
First comes the creation of a formative myth for the new system, one that generates a demiurge-hero, the nation’s father. Where the Bolsheviks had the October Revolution and the subsequent civil war to deify Lenin, Putinists used the second Chechen war, triggered by the blowing up of Moscow apartments, to raise up Vladimir Putin as national savior.
The second stage is the time of the tempest — the period when the country is stoically remade through the leaders’s iron will. Where Stalin had his barbarous yet monumental drive to industrial modernization, Putin boasted of making Russia a great energy power.
Next comes heroic triumph. The Soviets had the great victory over Hitler’s Germany in World War II, which left Russia one of the world’s two superpowers. Putin’s supposedly heroic victory came in the war with Georgia of 2008, followed by the subsequent virtual annexation of Abkhazia and South Ossetia.
From heroic victory, however, exhaustion invariably follows. Under the Soviets, this stage lasted about 40 years. But Putin’s simulacrum of Sovietism began to collapse much faster, partly by virtue of the fact that his regime’s ideology never had much substance to begin with, and so couldn’t begin to be used as a prop.
Indeed, at the onset of the financial crisis, Putin tried to bestride the world, portraying Russia as an island of stability and demanding the creation of a new global financial order, with the ruble to become one of the world’s reserve currencies.
That megalomaniac position was quickly reversed, however, and Putinomics proved to be even more vulnerable to the financial crisis than the economies of the West.
At such moments of decline in Russia, the clans always come to the fore in a mad scramble of self-preservation and self-enrichment. Even Putin’s truest followers are now beginning to speak of their leader and the results of his governance in impertinent and disrespectful ways.
Of course, no one should think that Putinism will disappear tomorrow, even though its jackals are already circling. Let us remember that Soviet communism took four decades to rot away — decades during which the inner circle knew that the regime was disintegrating from within but lacked any real idea of how to save it.
So now we hear pathetic echoes of all the efforts to reform communism during the long years of Soviet decline: Putinism without Putin, Putinism with a human face, etc. There is much talk of great leaps forward, of modernization, innovations and nanotechnologies — the sort of myths with which fading rulers console themselves as they look for magical solutions to cure the dysfunctions of their regimes.
On the street, other echoes are heard. Our “father” did not turn out to be a father at all. Even among Putin’s kleptocracy of ex-KGB men, as among the communist apparatchiks in the dying days of Gorbachev’s rule, there is a growing realization that the jig is nearly up, and that it is time to look after oneself.
So, as Putinism atrophies, the great hope among his immediate circle is that they will be able to do what the communist elite did in the early 1990’s — hijack whatever new system emerges and put it to work in the service of their own interests.
Andrei Piontkovsky is a Russian political scientist and a visiting fellow at the Hudson Institute in Washington.
COPYRIGHT: PROJECT SYNDICATE
The Chinese Communist Party (CCP) has long been expansionist and contemptuous of international law. Under Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平), the CCP regime has become more despotic, coercive and punitive. As part of its strategy to annex Taiwan, Beijing has sought to erase the island democracy’s international identity by bribing countries to sever diplomatic ties with Taipei. One by one, China has peeled away Taiwan’s remaining diplomatic partners, leaving just 12 countries (mostly small developing states) and the Vatican recognizing Taiwan as a sovereign nation. Taiwan’s formal international space has shrunk dramatically. Yet even as Beijing has scored diplomatic successes, its overreach
For Taiwan, the ongoing US and Israeli strikes on Iranian targets are a warning signal: When a major power stretches the boundaries of self-defense, smaller states feel the tremors first. Taiwan’s security rests on two pillars: US deterrence and the credibility of international law. The first deters coercion from China. The second legitimizes Taiwan’s place in the international community. One is material. The other is moral. Both are indispensable. Under the UN Charter, force is lawful only in response to an armed attack or with UN Security Council authorization. Even pre-emptive self-defense — long debated — requires a demonstrably imminent
Since being re-elected, US President Donald Trump has consistently taken concrete action to counter China and to safeguard the interests of the US and other democratic nations. The attacks on Iran, the earlier capture of deposed of Venezuelan president Nicolas Maduro and efforts to remove Chinese influence from the Panama Canal all demonstrate that, as tensions with Beijing intensify, Washington has adopted a hardline stance aimed at weakening its power. Iran and Venezuela are important allies and major oil suppliers of China, and the US has effectively decapitated both. The US has continuously strengthened its military presence in the Philippines. Japanese Prime
After “Operation Absolute Resolve” to capture former Venezuelan president Nicolas Maduro, the US joined Israel on Saturday last week in launching “Operation Epic Fury” to remove Iranian supreme leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei and his theocratic regime leadership team. The two blitzes are widely believed to be a prelude to US President Donald Trump changing the geopolitical landscape in the Indo-Pacific region, targeting China’s rise. In the National Security Strategic report released in December last year, the Trump administration made it clear that the US would focus on “restoring American pre-eminence in the Western hemisphere,” and “competing with China economically and militarily