Russian Foreign Policy in Eurasia

National Interests and Regional Integration

Lilia Arakelyan

• Publisher: Taylor & Francis
• Year: 2017
• eBook ISBN: 9781315468358
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Politics & International Relations
• Subtopic: International Relations
• Index: Politics & International Relations

How has Russia increased its strength and power over the last 15 years? By what means did the Kremlin bring Armenia back into its orbit? Why did Azerbaijan and Georgia try to avoid antagonizing Moscow? Can we conclude that Russia has restored its sphere of influence in Eurasia?

Employing a case-centric research design this book answers these questions by analyzing Russia's foreign affairs in the South Caucasus after the end of the Cold War. Exploring the relevance for those affairs of the creation of the Eurasian Economic Union it uses neoclassical realism and regime theories as frameworks. Arguing that Russia's material power capabilities guide Moscow's foreign policies in all three South Caucasian states, the author points out that Russia responds to the uncertainties of international anarchy by seeking to control its former territory and shape its external environment according to its own preferences.

This book will be of interest to academics and postgraduate students in International Relations, International Political Economy, Comparative Politics, and Foreign Policy as well as Eurasian Studies and Post-Soviet Studies.

1
After the collapse

With the disintegration of the USSR in 1991, the West expected a smooth integration of Russia and the fourteen other former Soviet republics (FSU) into the global community (Kanet 2010). While some of the FSU countries (the Baltic States and Georgia) took a big step towards Westernization, others (Azerbaijan, Belarus, Kazakhstan, Russia and Turkmenistan) emerged as new authoritarian states with capitalist economies that are heavily integrated into the global economy. Ambrosio claims that, while Georgia in 2003, Ukraine in 2004–2005 and Kyrgyzstan in 2005 experienced what he calls the “fourth wave” of democratization, when autocratic leaders were brought down by the opposition, there was a clear authoritarian backlash against democracy promotion in Russia and Belarus. These authoritarian regimes (Russia, Belarus, and Kazakhstan) support each other in resisting Western-style democratization and globalization (Ambrosio 2009).

These types of regimes, so-called “competitive authoritarianism,” must be distinguished from democracy, since their leaders use formal democratic institutions as the principal means of obtaining and exercising political power, while officials in democratic regimes do not alter the playing field between government and opposition. On the other hand, competitive authoritarian regimes fall short of full-scale authoritarianism as well, since they are unable to eliminate formal democratic rules (Levitsky and Way 2002). Instead, they use more subtle forms of persecution (tax authorities, compliant judiciaries and other state agencies) to oppress the opposition. Examples of competitive authoritarian regimes include Ukraine under Leonid Kravchuk and Leonid Kuchma, Russia under Vladimir Putin, Croatia under Franjo Tudjman, as well as Albania, Armenia, Ghana, Kenya, Malaysia, Mexico and Zambia through much of the 1990s (Levitsky and Way 2002, p. 3).

Russia had made slow and limited progress towards democracy after the collapse of the Soviet Union, but this process was reversed after Vladimir Putin came to power in 1999–2000, when the government took control over the national media and core industries, including the energy sector (Nichol 2011). Since he came into office in 1999, Putin has made it clear that he wants the world to recognize Russia as one of the world’s three superpowers along with the U.S. and China, not a second-tier country that would simply follow Western orders (Lo 2012). Moreover, in 2005, Putin described the collapse of the Soviet Union as “the greatest geopolitical catastrophe of the past century,” the statement that was considered as alarming by many Western and former Soviet scholars and politicians (Kuzio 2006; Salukvadze 2006; Lukyanov 2012). Russia’s defense minister, Sergei Ivanov, then added fuel to the fire by condemning the so-called color revolutions in Georgia (2003), Ukraine (2004), and Kyrgyzstan (2005), and claiming that they are “a violent assault on the constitutional order of some post-Soviet states,” and posed a serious threat to Russia’s internal and external security (Ivanov 2006). It is clear that at the time Washington and Brussels did not fully understand Moscow’s eagerness to use all the means to defend its interests in the near abroad. Nothing could illustrate more forcibly the political blindness of Western powers than their reluctance to accept Russia as a key player on a global scale and in the post-Soviet space in particular following the end of the Cold War. After 9/11, Washington redirected its attention to the Middle East and the Persian Gulf that led to a greater strategic importance of the Caspian region for the U.S. government since it became indispensable in the prosecution of the Global War on Terror. Particularly, Azerbaijan in the South Caucasus and the Central Asian countries had become critical to U.S. strategic interests during the Afghanistan War since the countries allowed American aircraft to use their airspace and allowed troops and supplies to travel to Afghanistan through their territories. In addition, historically, energy resources in the Caspian Sea area attracted the attention of Western countries and oil companies. In the beginning of the twenty-first century, Central Asian states and the Caucasus once again have become sites for rivalry between Moscow, Washington, Brussels, and Beijing since the FSU countries are considered as potential allies who could facilitate access to bases in Eurasia (Sussex 2012). More than two decades after the fall of the Soviet Union, a threat of Russian revanchism that surfaced in the early 2000s as a response to increased Western involvement in the post-Soviet space, has now become a political reality in the post-Soviet space. Moscow maintained a hostile stance against the West, painted Russia as a defender of traditional values in Eurasia and Eastern Europe, in contrast to “decadent” capitalist culture in the United States and Western Europe.

As a result, some scholars and analysts in the West and in the East have viewed Russia as a revisionist power, and Russia’s policy in the former Soviet space as a policy of neo-imperialism (Salukvadze 2006; Markedonov 2010; Lucas 2014). The reassertion of a self-confident Russian foreign policy under President Vladimir Putin was evident with respect to the former Soviet countries (for example, Russia’s relations with the Georgians and Chechens, the gas wars with Ukraine) (Nygren 2011). Moreover, the Russian Federation in the 1990s during the Yeltsin presidency was considered to be more democratic than most of the other post-communist states of Eastern Europe and Eurasia, while the Russian polity became significantly less democratic under Vladimir Putin’s leadership since 1999 (Rivera and Rivera 2009).

It is important to note that Yeltsin inherited the Soviet system in mid-collapse and was unable to establish Russia’s hegemonic position not only in the international system but also in the “near abroad.” After assuming political power, the Putin administration benefited from the rise in oil prices, and Russia became stronger, not only economically but also politically. Putin was able, first, to deliver the basics of effective governance in terms of improving the health care and welfare policies, and providing the family support to prevent the demo graphic crisis in the Russian Federation. Second, using Russia’s material power capabilities, he established Russia’s position vis-à-vis the former Soviet states, including the South Caucasus.

Concomitantly, systemic pressure and incentives (the West and China’s greater involvement in the region, the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict and disputes over Abkhazia and Ossetia, and Russia’s energy resources that led to reestablishing its position as a regional hegemon) shaped Russia’s foreign policy across former Soviet space, including the South Caucasus. Moreover, some analysts, referring to the claims of then President Medvedev about Russia’s privilege interest, believe that Russia has a sphere of privileged interest in the former Soviet space. In this regard, Skak notes that it was not until after the Russia–Georgia war that this claim was “codified” in President Medvedev’s five principles of Russian foreign policy: the superiority of the fundamental principles of international law; multipolarity of international system; non-confrontation with any other country; protection of the lives of ethnic Russians in the near abroad, and the development of ties with the former Soviet countries (Medvedev 2008; Skak 2011).

Despite the fact that Medvedev adopted a more liberal approach of Russia’s foreign policy during his tenure, the Western policymakers still believed that then Prime Minister Vladimir Putin remained omnipresent behind the scenes (Kozhanov 2012). Mr. Putin’s return to the presidency in 2012 only made it clear that Medvedev’s tenure was nothing else but just the gambit (rakirovka) needed to manipulate the law to serve Putin’s authoritarian agenda (Remington 2014, p. 1). In fact, Russian authorities have tightened control over the media and the opposition, solidified the hold of Eurasianism, and undertook an anti-Western stance. At the time, Mr. Putin’s doctrine rested on three geostrategic imperatives: Russia must remain a nuclear superpower; a great power in all assets of international activity; and the political, military, and economic leader of its region (Aron 2013).

It seems that the creation of the Eurasian Union in 2015 helped to implement all three of Putin’s geostrategic imperatives. Hence, despite the Russian president’s public statements that the Eurasian Union would be built on the experience of the European Union,¹ while changing the geopolitical and geoeconomic configuration of Eurasia and would contribute a global effect, it is obvious that Moscow’s rationale behind the Eurasian integration was to constitute a counterweight to NATO and to EU enlargement and outreach in Eastern Europe. Moreover, a new Eurasian bloc balances the EU in the west, China in the east, and creates a buffer zone to undermine a NATO-centered European security system in the former Soviet-bloc countries (Greene 2012). As I argue in Chapter 3, we cannot draw a parallel between the European Union and the Eurasian Union due to the different principles and objectives that these two supranational organizations pursue, as well as the logic conditionality for the member states accession.

In this regard, Putin’s idea of a Eurasian Union has sparked strong debates, not only in the West but also in the post-Soviet space. For instance, Mikhail Saakashvili, then president of Georgia, called on Azerbaijan and other former Soviet states to unite their efforts against Moscow’s imperial ambitions (Kiguradze 2013). The Ukrainian crisis once again proved that the new bloc had political rather than economic logic for Mr. Putin. First of all, the logical progression of economic integration should have established the free movement of products within the Customs Union prior to moving to the Single Economic space to ensure an unrestricted provisions of services, and only then process to an economic union with the free circulation of goods and services, finance and labor. On the contrary, the Customs Union is leading to economic integration without even considering the trade issues. Furthermore, the main source of Russia’s material power—energy—was not even included in the single market. Thus, the member states will continue paying duties to Moscow on its exports of oil products based on oil imported from Russia, which means that the Kremlin will still use energy as its carrot-and-stick method to punish or reward the former Soviet Union, depending on their behaviour towards the big brother (Panin 2014). In this regard, Mr. Putin’s claims that the Eurasian Union would follow the examples of the EU and other regional integration, and that “the Customs Union, and later the Eurasian Union will join the dialogue with the EU, and the accession to the Eurasian Union will also help countries integrate into Europe sooner and from a stronger position” cannot be taken seriously taking into account the Armenian and Ukrainian examples that will be covered in details in this book (Putin 2011).

Meanwhile, increased Russian capabilities during Putin’s presidency helped to drive policymakers’ perceptions of external threats, interests and opportunities in the South Caucasus. Russia used energy and the dispute over the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict to bully Armenia into the Eurasian Economic Union. For instance, as soon as Armenia headed towards initialing the Association Agreement with the EU, Moscow delivered up to $1 billion worth of military equipment to Baku. Arguably, fearing an outbreak of a new war, Armenia signed a treaty to join the Eurasian Union in 2015.

According to Stepan Grigoryan, head of the Globalization and Regional Cooperation think tank center, Russia, in this regard, acted upon its interests and was unwilling to let Armenia and the Ukraine sign the Association Agreement with the EU (Mkrtchyan 2013). Rikard Jozwiak considers an Association Agreement, which comprises four general chapters: Common Foreign and Security Policy; Justice and Home Affairs; the Deep and Comprehensive Free Trade Area (DCFTA); and the last chapter covering a range of issues, including environment, science, transportation and education, as the EU’s main instrument to bring the countries in the Eastern Partnership (EaP)² closer to EU standards and norms (Jozwiak 2013). Consequently, the civil society representatives in Armenia believe that the country’s decision to join the Eurasian Union was made in order to retain certain advantages for the government’s officials—monopolization, corruption, violation of human rights. While many believed that Kremlin used Yerevan’s heavy dependence on Russia’s economy as well as the security concerns over the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict to bring Armenia into the new union, this book also suggests that Armenia’s political regime, dominated mainly by oligarchic groups, was reluctant to undertake the political changes that would have been required had they initialled the Association Agreement with the EU. For instance, Daron Acemoglu and James Robinson argue that in order to build a healthy economic and social system, a country needs to establish “inclusive economic institutions that enforce property rights, create a level playing field, and encourage investments in new technologies and skills” rather than “extractive economic institutions that are structured to extract resources from the many by the few” (Acemoglu and Robinson 2012). Since the mid-1990s, Armenia has been ruled by a privileged elite, oligarchs, a group numbering around 40, who dominate industries ranging from banking to mining, and who also hold an unprecedented political power in the country. As in Russia and Ukraine, Armenian oligarchs have parlayed their wealth into the public office, and many political parties in the country are closely associated with leading tycoons who also enjoy parliamentary immunity (Aghajanian 2012). It is also a tradition for Armenian oligarchs based in Russia to come back to their motherland on a “business mission,” Ara Abramanyan (the current president of the Union of Armenians in Russia), Samvel Karapetyan (the owner of the Tashir group, whose brother Karen Karapetyan was appointed as a new prime minister of Armenia in September 2016), Ruben Vardanyan (former CEO and controlling shareholder of investment bank Troika Dialog), just to name a few Armenian–Russian tycoons who are actively involved in Armenian politics, and make sure that the country is not changing its pro-Russian course (Gabrielyan 2015). In this regard, the Armenian opposition insists that Serzh Sargsyan’s single-handed decision to join the trading block with Russia, Belarus and Kazakhstan retarded the country’s democratic growth, and threw the country back 25 years.

Another factor to be considered is that Georgia had initialled the Association Agreement³ with the EU, and signed the Deep and Comprehensive Free Trade Area (DCFTA) in 2014. This means that Armenia, which borders Georgia, has taken a completely different economic course than its neighbor and will have a change of border status, which will affect not only the commodity turnover but also the movement of people (Mkrtchyan 2013). In addition, Armenia has also accepted Vladimir Putin’s “Eurasian Union without Karabakh bill,” which means that a customs checkpoint must be installed on the border between Armenia and Nagorno-Karabakh (the latter is not a recognized state by Russia or Armenia). As we can see, the Eurasian Union creates additional dividing lines in the South Caucasus that has already been sank in the mire of regional rivalry.

Georgia, on the other...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title
• Copyright
• Dedication
• Contents
• List of figures
• List of tables
• Acknowledgements
• Glossary
• List of abbreviations
• Introduction
• 1 After the collapse
• 2 How do the South Caucasian cases affect the analysis of Russia’s foreign policy?
• 3 The perplexing power of Russia’s relations with its neighbors
• 4 Russia’s foreign policy in the South Caucasus: the logic of historical explanation
• 5 Testing regime theories in the post-Soviet space
• Conclusion: did Russia restore its hegemony in Eurasia?
• Index