Russia's Chechen War

Tracey C. German

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2003
• ISBN:
  9781134432493
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Politics & International Relations
• Subtopic: Politics
• Index: Politics & International Relations

Widespread media interest into the Chechen conflict reflects an ongoing concern about the evolution of federal Russia. Why did the Russian leadership initiate military action against Chechnya in December 1994 but against no other constituent part of the Federation? This study demonstrates that the Russian invasion represented the culmination of a crisis that was perceived to have become an increasing threat not only to the stability of the North Caucasus region, but also to the very foundations of Russian security. It looks closely at the Russian Federation in transition, following the collapse of the communist Soviet Union, and the implications of the 1991 Chechen Declaration of Independence in the context of Russia's democratisation project.

1 The Russian Federation in transition

Introduction

In the wake of the rapid demise of communism as a global ideology, considerable scholarly attention has been focused on the extant democratisation of the former Soviet empire. The progress of the Russian Federation’s democratisation project has not been trouble-free, a fact that is manifest in its evolving relationship with its 89 constituent parts, particularly the Chechen Republic. The nature of Moscow’s relationship with its peripheral regions serves as a key indicator of the health of democracy across the Federation: the level of real autonomy granted to local elites, as well as the accountability and transparency of the relationship is a reliable demonstration of the extent of democratisation. Increasingly, regional trends and relationships have become the crucial factor in any assessment of political stability in Russia, as opposed to interest group and factional clashes within the Kremlin itself. This chapter will examine the process of democratic transition which the Soviet Union, then Russia, underwent as it strove to move from a non-democratic regime towards its aspirations of democracy.

Defining the transition process

Democratisation has been defined as ‘the advance of liberal-democratic reform, implying, in particular, the granting of basic freedoms and the widening of popular participation and electoral choice’.¹ Over the past century there has been a tendency for an increasing number of countries to pursue supposedly democratic forms of government, Huntington’s so-called ‘Third Wave’, and by 1992 the number of ‘democracies’ was in a majority for the first time, totalling 91 of 183 states.² The collapse of the outer Soviet empire in 1989 provoked a sense of triumphalism amongst the liberal democracies of the industrialised West, who claimed victory over the communist ideology. This was exemplified by Francis Fukuyama’s manifesto that the fall of the communist empire amounted to the ‘end of history’, on the basis that non-democratic regimes had recognised liberal democracy and the capitalist economic order as ‘the final form of human government’.³ The spread of democratic forms of governance was acclaimed as a significant tool in the promotion of global peace and security. Noting that no two democracies have ever fought a war against each other, former US President Bill Clinton argued that support for democratisation would be an antidote to both international war and civil conflict.⁴

Yet whilst liberal democracy⁵ is certainly the proclaimed ideal of a large proportion of states in the contemporary world, each country’s notion of democracy varies, depending greatly upon the legacy of the previous regime type, together with the mentality of the current leadership and its ambitions. Democratisation is not a solitary consequential event; it comprises several different stages that occur over an indefinite period of time: the breakdown of undemocratic rule, transition, consolidation and, if successful, the perpetuation of a stable democratic political order. Thus, transition (or ‘transformation’, a term preferred by some observers⁶) is merely an intrinsic stage in the complex development of a democratic state. A state is deemed to be undergoing transition from the moment critical flaws initially become discernible in the undemocratic regime, until it successfully attains democratic stability, an accomplishment often taking many years. It is imperative to distinguish between the initiation of democratisation as a process and the final objective of consolidating democracy as an institution. There are innumerable potential impediments to the completion of a successful transition: the complex process of democratic transformation encompasses both positive and negative phases, with violent conflict representing an extreme potential outcome.

Successful transition requires a certain degree of national unity⁷, a concord of conflicting interests for the sake of peace. Whilst a certain degree of nationalism or national pride is necessary for the cohesion of a modern state, extreme forms accompanied by violence are destabilising and dangerous. Unfortunately, the fundamental liberalism inherent in democratic ideology promotes the free expression of a wide spectrum of grievances, thereby fostering nationalistic tendencies. Existing underlying ethnic tensions are particularly prone to exacerbation during a transitional period. Previously repressed national groups push for increased autonomy, whilst political leaders exploit these rifts and utilise populist, ethnic slogans in order to win support for their faction. Instead of the moderation and cooperation essential to avoid conflict, extremist rhetoric is employed.

Gorbachev and liberalisation

The transformation of the Soviet system was unintentionally inaugurated by the appointment of Mikhail Gorbachev as General Secretary of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union (CPSU) in 1985. He inherited the mantle of power from a series of infirm, elderly leaders and his comparative youth brought a new vigour to Soviet political life. Nevertheless, in 1985 there was no indication of the prodigious impact Gorbachev’s rule was to have on the legitimacy of the communist ideal, eventually culminating in the abrupt dismantling of the vast Soviet empire.

Initially perestroika (re-structuring) was intended to be a programme of economic reform. By the end of the 1980s it had become apparent that the Soviet Union was experiencing severe economic difficulties. The centre could no longer afford the enormous financial burden of maintaining its Eastern European satellites and simultaneously attempting to compete with the extensive military build-up being conducted by the United States. Living standards across the USSR had fallen dramatically as financial resources were diverted away from public spending into the defence budget. The socialist concept of central planning had generated a weak economy dependent on heavy industry and collective agriculture and unable to compete on world markets. In an attempt to revive the economy Gorbachev chose to concentrate resources on a structural regeneration of the entire socialist system.⁸

The Soviet leader unveiled his liberalisation project at the XXVIIth CPSU Congress held in February 1986, announcing that ‘now the situation is such that it is impossible to simply limit out measures to partial improvements – what is needed is a radical reform’.⁹ As the first step in the reform programme he initiated the policy of glasnost (meaning transparency or openness) which was intended to mobilise support from the intelligentsia and public at large for the wider programme of perestroika. Glasnost entailed lifting the controls on public debate and individual expression of opinion. Political prisoners were released, new freedoms were granted to the mass media and a widespread re-evaluation of the Soviet past took place. The Central Committee Plenum of January 1987 was a crucial turning point in the transformation process, as uninhibited discussion and analysis of the Soviet regime were openly encouraged. Gorbachev has described the plenum as ‘the first step on our road towards democracy’, when every speaker ‘criticised the bureaucracy’ and ‘had his hand raised in support of democratisation’.¹⁰ By the middle of 1987 serious economic reform was underway, as Gorbachev called for an economy that would retain economic planning, but with decentralisation and a significant role for market forces within the framework.

The final part of his liberalisation of the Soviet regime involved the democratisation of political institutions. In March 1989 the first competitive elections took place for the newly established representative legislature, the Congress of People’s Deputies, and the following year the Communist Party agreed to give up its monopoly on power, endorsing the removal of Article Six from the Soviet Constitution. This amendment meant that multi-party elections could be held, seriously undermining the hegemony of the central authorities, but also unintentionally opening the way for further democratisation.

Gorbachev is often mistakenly portrayed as a champion of democracy by Western observers, who fail to point out that, although he abandoned much of the communist ideology, he retained a firm belief in the socialist ideal and refused to abandon communist institutions.¹¹ He stressed that ‘perestroika is not some kind of illumination or revelation … The essence of perestroika lies in the fact that it unites socialism with democracy and revives the Leninist concept of socialist construction both in theory and in practice’.¹² Gorbachev and his reform-minded allies were convinced that socialism could only achieve its full potential through controlled democratisation, maintaining that ‘only through the consistent development of the democratic forms inherent in socialism and through the expansion of selfgovernment can we make progress in production, science and technology, culture and art, and in all social spheres.’¹³ In his memoirs, Gorbachev himself has described the modest objectives of his reforms: ‘What we had in mind was not a revolution but a specific improvement of the system, which we then believed was possible. We longed for freedom so much that we thought that if we just gave society a breath of fresh air it would revive. We understood freedom in a broad sense, to include actual, not just rhetorical, control of the land by farmers, and of factories by workers, freedom of enterprise, changes in our investment and structural policies and an emphasis on social development.’¹⁴

Gorbachev’s programme of liberalisation constituted the beginning of a transition process, which would eventually lead to a rejection of the socialist system that the reforms were merely intended to strengthen. Glasnost in particular triggered the expression of grievances and opinions, which the authorities were unable to control and which fatally weakened the legitimacy of Soviet rule. Having failed to preserve coherence between the pillars of the communist political system, Gorbachev unwittingly initiated a dramatic systemic transformation.

Rising from the ashes: Yeltsin and ‘democracy’

The abrupt collapse of the Soviet Union, following the coup attempt of August 1991, caught the majority of politicians, analysts and the population unawares. There was little time for any preparation and certainly no gradual introduction to the principles of democratic reform. Russia’s transformation from a post-totalitarian state literally occurred overnight. It is doubtful that the liberal opponents of communist rule had been plotting to overthrow the incumbent government, and consequently they had given scant consideration to the enormity of the task suddenly confronting them. Sergei Stankevich, one of Yeltsin’s political advisers, concluded that the collapse of the Soviet regime was a ‘mixed blessing’. In his opinion the democratic opposition ‘had reached a distant shore long before we thought we ever would … We democrats who had been in opposition were suddenly in power, and in many ways we were not prepared. The main weakness was that the idea of what a ‘new Russia’ should be had not been considered at all.’¹⁵

His remarks allude to the institutional vacuum that frequently accompanies democratic transition. Russia’s tentative transition away from the repressive communist system towards the norms of democracy, must be perceived as a new beginning rather than a return to past experiences. The new leadership of the Federation failed to promptly dismantle Soviet institutions such as the KGB, remaining seemingly inert in the months following the attempted coup. It continued to function within the framework of the 1977 Soviet Constitution together with the Soviet era legislature, the Congress of Peoples’ Deputies, for two years, whilst simultaneously attempting to adopt the principles of liberal democracy. Consequently, even though the leadership verbally embraced democratic ideals, it lacked the institutional foundations upon which to construct its aspirations. Yeltsin himself has acknowledged this fact, writing in his memoirs: ‘I cannot say that we had to start from scratch, but almost. Meanwhile, we had to figure out everything from the start. What was a vice president? How should a Russian constitutional court look? There was nothing but blank space because no such institutions had previously existed in Russia … As a result, there emerged beautiful structures and pretty names with nothing behind them.’¹⁶ This failure to institutionalise the new political order, combined with structural weaknesses inherited from the Soviet system of power, led to the executive and legislature becoming embroiled in a struggle for supremacy. Each side in this conflict exploited democratic procedures in order to preserve their monopoly on power, resulting in the creation of a ‘democracy’ that perpetuates political irresponsibility and the predominance of personal advantage over accountability to the electorate.

Shevtsova has conjectured that Russia’s transition was ‘uniquely difficult’, differentiated from most other post-communist transitions by the total collapse of the state that accompanied the collapse of communism, as well as the lack of elite consensus about methods of reform. She is highly critical of Yeltsin for failing to establish either a coherent institutional order or widespread social support for his programme of reform, concentrating instead on the construction of an undemocratic vertical system of presidential power that granted him vast powers.¹⁷ A crucial difference between Russia and the states of post-communist Eastern Europe is that the latter possessed a systemic framework within which to conduct reform, thus safeguarding progress towards democratic consolidation and blocking any regressive movement. The communist system was far more entrenched within Russia and there was a lack of modern democratic traditions, ensuring that no consensus was reached during the initial stages of transition. Consequently, the Russian transition has been determined by the ‘logic of the political battle being fought at the time and not by any long-range plans for state-building.’¹⁸

The majority of Russia’s politicians, civil servants and officials were moulded according to the realities of a communist state, thus could not be expected suddenly to transform themselves from model Soviet citizens into epitomes of a diametrically opposing set of beliefs. Shevtsova believes this to be the reason behind the atmosphere of continual crisis prevalent during the first three years of the post-Soviet era. In her opinion the extent of ‘elite continuity’ in Russia distinguishes its political transformation from those of other post-communist countries, where opposition leaders emerged from outside the established political order. The anti-Soviet opposition arose from within the existing elite, even from within the Central Committee, and consequently its members were reluctant ‘to carry out a broad-based purge of the elite to which they belonged.’¹⁹ This has led some observers to claim that Russia has not been transformed at all. Yuri Burtin, a correspondent for Nezavisimaya Gazeta, maintains that, despite operating within a new political-ideological framework, the Russian apparat has been able to preserve traditional positions and relationships: ‘This system is like a werewolf – it changes it...