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RUSSIA'S NEIGHBORS RESIST WOOING AND BULLYING
Ellen Barry
Sarasota Herald-Tribune
Friday, July 3, 2009 at 5:16 a.m.
MOSCOW - This was supposed to be Russia's round in the battle over
its backyard. All year, despite its own economic spasms, Moscow
has earmarked great chunks of cash for its impoverished post-Soviet
neighbors, seeking to lock in their loyalty over the long term and
curtail Western influence in the region.
But the neighbors seem to have other ideas. Belarus - which was
promised $2 billion in Russian aid - is in open rebellion against the
Kremlin, flaunting its preference for Europe while also collecting
money from the International Monetary Fund. Uzbekistan joined Belarus
in refusing to sign an agreement on the Collective Rapid Reaction
Forces, an idea Moscow sees as an eventual counterweight to NATO.
There are other examples, like Turkmenistan's May signing of a gas
exploration deal with a German company, and Armenia's awarding of a
major national honor to Moscow's nemesis, President Mikheil Saakashvili
of Georgia. But the biggest came last week when Kyrgyzstan - set to
receive $2.15 billion in Russian aid - reversed a decision that had
been seen as a coup for Moscow, last winter's order terminating the
American military's use of the Manas Air Base there.
"A game of chance has developed in the post-Soviet space: Who can
swindle the Kremlin in the coolest way?" wrote the military analyst
Aleksandr Golts, when news of the Manas decision broke. "Such a
brilliant result of Russia's four-year diplomatic efforts!"
There are few projects that matter more to Russia than restoring
its influence in the former Soviet republics, whose loss to many in
Moscow is still as painful as a phantom limb. Competition over Georgia
and Ukraine has brought relations between Moscow and Washington to a
post-cold-war low, and the matter is bound to be central to the talks
that begin on Monday between Russia's president, Dmitri A. Medvedev,
and President Obama.
Russia's ability to attract its neighbors to its side and keep them
there is unimpressive. The Kremlin's methods have been reactive
and often bullying, combining incentives like cheap energy or cash
disbursement with threats of trade sanctions and gas cutoffs.
The war in Georgia seems to have hurt Moscow in that regard. Rather
than being cowed into obedience, as most Western observers feared,
the former republics seem to have grown even more protective of
their sovereignty. Moreover, the leaders themselves have thrived by
playing Russia and the West and, in some cases, China off against
one another, although that has not brought stability or prosperity
to their countries.
In Moscow's so-called zone of privileged interests, in other words,
Russia is just another competitor.
"There is no loyalty," said Oksana Antonenko, a senior fellow
at the International Institute for Strategic Studies, based in
London. "Rivalry is the persistent dynamic. They have to play in that
game, to compete."
Kyrgyzstan's reversal on Manas is a case study in canny horse
trading. Russian officials, including Mr. Medvedev, have said they
blessed the decision, and that may be true, but President Kurmanbek
S. Bakiyev is the one who walked away with what he wanted.
Moscow wanted the base, a key transit hub for the United States' war
in Afghanistan, shut down; Kyrgyzstan wanted more money. In February,
Moscow seemed to have achieved a master stroke - at a news conference
announcing the pledge of $2.15 billion in Russian aid, Mr. Bakiyev
said the United States would have to leave Manas in six months.
The first Russian payments - a $150 million emergency grant and a $300
million low-interest loan - arrived in April, allowing Mr. Bakiyev
to pay wages and pensions as he began his re-election campaign. Then
Kyrgyzstan shocked the region by announcing a new agreement with the
United States. Washington will pay more than triple the rent for the
base - now called a "transit center" - increasing its annual payment
to $60 million from $17.4 million, while kicking in upwards of $50
million in grants to the government. No one knows if the Kremlin will
make good on the rest of its pledge.
Mr. Bakiyev "played the Russians, then he played us," said Alexander
A. Cooley, an associate professor of political science at Barnard
College who addressed the Manas dispute in a recent book, "Base
Politics." "It's all about getting as much as they can."
This should be easier for Russia, which dwarfs its Eurasian neighbors
in both size and wealth. Russia retains a military presence in more
than half the former Soviet countries, and huge swaths of their
populations rely on Russian media for their news. Russia can offer
muscular assistance in elections, as in Moldova, which has just
received a Russian pledge of $500 million four weeks before voters
go to the polls to elect a new Parliament.
But Russia's strategy for consolidating support in neighboring
capitals can hardly be called a strategy. Belarus's president,
Aleksandr Lukashenko, who is avidly pursuing Western partners, has
been barraged with carrots and sticks from Moscow - first promised
$2 billion in Russian aid, then bitterly chastised for his economic
policy, then punished with a crippling ban on the import of milk
products, then rewarded by a reversal of the import ban. Russia
regards Mr. Lukashenko's truculence as a bluff.
"He is imitating a quarrel with Russia until the West demands
serious changes from his regime, at which point, he will, of
course, surrender," said Parliament member Konstantin F. Zatulin, a
standard-bearer for Russia's ambitions in former Soviet space. "It's
just his greedy line of behavior."
But the examples extend much farther. Every post-Soviet country
that can manage it is pursuing a "multivector policy," Mr. Zatulin
acknowledged. Mr. Zatulin said he was not upset by these tacks away
from Russia, but there was an edge to his answer.
"What is the point of being disappointed?" Mr. Zatulin said. "Pride
comes before a fall. These are weak, dependent and poor countries
which want to attract attention to themselves - not only attention,
but aid. I cannot criticize them for that. But there are some red
lines that shouldn't be crossed."
Herein lies the problem: Russia's appeal to them just does not sound
very seductive. Ideally, it would present an attractive model for
its neighbors, politically and economically. Young generations would
learn Russian because they wanted to, and the post-Soviet alliances
would be clubs its neighbors are lining up to join.
In any case, Moscow will have to use tools other than wire transfers
if it hopes to emerge from the financial crisis with a solid political
bloc. As Alexei Mukhin, director of the nonprofit Center for Political
Information, put it, "Love bought with money will not last long.
"That is purchased love," he said. "It's not very reliable."
All rights reserved. This copyrighted material may not be re-published
without permission. Links are encouraged.
From: Emil Lazarian | Ararat NewsPress
Ellen Barry
Sarasota Herald-Tribune
Friday, July 3, 2009 at 5:16 a.m.
MOSCOW - This was supposed to be Russia's round in the battle over
its backyard. All year, despite its own economic spasms, Moscow
has earmarked great chunks of cash for its impoverished post-Soviet
neighbors, seeking to lock in their loyalty over the long term and
curtail Western influence in the region.
But the neighbors seem to have other ideas. Belarus - which was
promised $2 billion in Russian aid - is in open rebellion against the
Kremlin, flaunting its preference for Europe while also collecting
money from the International Monetary Fund. Uzbekistan joined Belarus
in refusing to sign an agreement on the Collective Rapid Reaction
Forces, an idea Moscow sees as an eventual counterweight to NATO.
There are other examples, like Turkmenistan's May signing of a gas
exploration deal with a German company, and Armenia's awarding of a
major national honor to Moscow's nemesis, President Mikheil Saakashvili
of Georgia. But the biggest came last week when Kyrgyzstan - set to
receive $2.15 billion in Russian aid - reversed a decision that had
been seen as a coup for Moscow, last winter's order terminating the
American military's use of the Manas Air Base there.
"A game of chance has developed in the post-Soviet space: Who can
swindle the Kremlin in the coolest way?" wrote the military analyst
Aleksandr Golts, when news of the Manas decision broke. "Such a
brilliant result of Russia's four-year diplomatic efforts!"
There are few projects that matter more to Russia than restoring
its influence in the former Soviet republics, whose loss to many in
Moscow is still as painful as a phantom limb. Competition over Georgia
and Ukraine has brought relations between Moscow and Washington to a
post-cold-war low, and the matter is bound to be central to the talks
that begin on Monday between Russia's president, Dmitri A. Medvedev,
and President Obama.
Russia's ability to attract its neighbors to its side and keep them
there is unimpressive. The Kremlin's methods have been reactive
and often bullying, combining incentives like cheap energy or cash
disbursement with threats of trade sanctions and gas cutoffs.
The war in Georgia seems to have hurt Moscow in that regard. Rather
than being cowed into obedience, as most Western observers feared,
the former republics seem to have grown even more protective of
their sovereignty. Moreover, the leaders themselves have thrived by
playing Russia and the West and, in some cases, China off against
one another, although that has not brought stability or prosperity
to their countries.
In Moscow's so-called zone of privileged interests, in other words,
Russia is just another competitor.
"There is no loyalty," said Oksana Antonenko, a senior fellow
at the International Institute for Strategic Studies, based in
London. "Rivalry is the persistent dynamic. They have to play in that
game, to compete."
Kyrgyzstan's reversal on Manas is a case study in canny horse
trading. Russian officials, including Mr. Medvedev, have said they
blessed the decision, and that may be true, but President Kurmanbek
S. Bakiyev is the one who walked away with what he wanted.
Moscow wanted the base, a key transit hub for the United States' war
in Afghanistan, shut down; Kyrgyzstan wanted more money. In February,
Moscow seemed to have achieved a master stroke - at a news conference
announcing the pledge of $2.15 billion in Russian aid, Mr. Bakiyev
said the United States would have to leave Manas in six months.
The first Russian payments - a $150 million emergency grant and a $300
million low-interest loan - arrived in April, allowing Mr. Bakiyev
to pay wages and pensions as he began his re-election campaign. Then
Kyrgyzstan shocked the region by announcing a new agreement with the
United States. Washington will pay more than triple the rent for the
base - now called a "transit center" - increasing its annual payment
to $60 million from $17.4 million, while kicking in upwards of $50
million in grants to the government. No one knows if the Kremlin will
make good on the rest of its pledge.
Mr. Bakiyev "played the Russians, then he played us," said Alexander
A. Cooley, an associate professor of political science at Barnard
College who addressed the Manas dispute in a recent book, "Base
Politics." "It's all about getting as much as they can."
This should be easier for Russia, which dwarfs its Eurasian neighbors
in both size and wealth. Russia retains a military presence in more
than half the former Soviet countries, and huge swaths of their
populations rely on Russian media for their news. Russia can offer
muscular assistance in elections, as in Moldova, which has just
received a Russian pledge of $500 million four weeks before voters
go to the polls to elect a new Parliament.
But Russia's strategy for consolidating support in neighboring
capitals can hardly be called a strategy. Belarus's president,
Aleksandr Lukashenko, who is avidly pursuing Western partners, has
been barraged with carrots and sticks from Moscow - first promised
$2 billion in Russian aid, then bitterly chastised for his economic
policy, then punished with a crippling ban on the import of milk
products, then rewarded by a reversal of the import ban. Russia
regards Mr. Lukashenko's truculence as a bluff.
"He is imitating a quarrel with Russia until the West demands
serious changes from his regime, at which point, he will, of
course, surrender," said Parliament member Konstantin F. Zatulin, a
standard-bearer for Russia's ambitions in former Soviet space. "It's
just his greedy line of behavior."
But the examples extend much farther. Every post-Soviet country
that can manage it is pursuing a "multivector policy," Mr. Zatulin
acknowledged. Mr. Zatulin said he was not upset by these tacks away
from Russia, but there was an edge to his answer.
"What is the point of being disappointed?" Mr. Zatulin said. "Pride
comes before a fall. These are weak, dependent and poor countries
which want to attract attention to themselves - not only attention,
but aid. I cannot criticize them for that. But there are some red
lines that shouldn't be crossed."
Herein lies the problem: Russia's appeal to them just does not sound
very seductive. Ideally, it would present an attractive model for
its neighbors, politically and economically. Young generations would
learn Russian because they wanted to, and the post-Soviet alliances
would be clubs its neighbors are lining up to join.
In any case, Moscow will have to use tools other than wire transfers
if it hopes to emerge from the financial crisis with a solid political
bloc. As Alexei Mukhin, director of the nonprofit Center for Political
Information, put it, "Love bought with money will not last long.
"That is purchased love," he said. "It's not very reliable."
All rights reserved. This copyrighted material may not be re-published
without permission. Links are encouraged.
From: Emil Lazarian | Ararat NewsPress