By Michael Brendan Dougherty
Wednesday, March 28, 2018
Consider two sets of facts.
Here’s the first: Recently, on British soil, agents of
the Russian state probably assassinated an ex spy of theirs using a chemical
weapon. Russia may have worked with WikiLeaks to release information embarrassing
to Hillary Clinton, either with the goal of weakening her as president, or
helping to elect Donald Trump. In 2014, Russia annexed a portion of Crimea; it
was the first time the Russian state had expanded its territory of rule since
the end of the Cold War. Russian-supplied militants in Ukraine used
anti-aircraft weaponry to down a passenger airliner. Russia makes special deals
with American enemies, such as Iran. Russia made itself a player again in the
Middle East, by intervening in Syria, when America couldn’t commit itself to
removing Bashar al-Assad. It provides safe refuge for Edward Snowden, who is
wanted for stealing American secrets. Russian banks lend to disruptive
political parties in the Western world, such as Marine Le Pen’s National Front.
Russia suppresses political dissent within Russia through both legal and
extra-legal measures, from preventing ballot access to killing journalists. Its
military conducts provocative exercises along the borders of NATO countries.
Here’s the second: Russia withdrew peacefully from
700,000 square miles of Europe and Eurasia at the end of the Cold War. Boris
Yeltsin’s government, claiming to act on the advice of Western policymakers who
counseled “shock therapy,” sold the assets of the Russian economy to a series
of Communist apparatchiks and gangsters. This was deeply unpopular in Russia
but his reelection was secured by direct
American meddling, including “emergency infusions” of billions of dollars
of Western money, a phalanx of American political consultants, and a
play-scripted “confrontation” with Bill Clinton. Under Yeltsin’s rule, economic
and social trends culminated in a major decrease in Russian life expectancy.
George W. Bush empowered revolutions in the former Soviet sphere. His
administration empowered men, such as Mikhail Saakashvili in Georgia, who
proceeded to make war on Russia. During just President Obama’s second term, the
United States backed a putsch in Ukraine and a series of Islamist-tinged rebels
in Syria, two countries that happen to host major Russian naval installations.
In both these cases, Russia intervened militarily.
What story do you tell from the above facts? Is Russia
weak or is it gathering confidence and strength? Is it contained by strong
Western policymaking? Or is it encircled by hysterical and easily terrified
Western powers? Is Putin playing a bad geopolitical hand brilliantly? Or is he
desperately maneuvering to cover over faults and mistakes?
America’s political actors seem to shift their views
easily. When Mitt Romney said in 2012 that Russia was America’s “top
geopolitical foe,” President Obama snapped back, “The 1980s are now calling to
ask for their foreign policy back.” Liberals cheered.
But two years later, Russia passed a law proscribing
homosexual propaganda aimed at youth. The state arrested the punk-rock band
Pussy Riot for protesting on the altar of a cathedral. Suddenly, for American
liberals, Russia began to become a foreign proxy for their own domestic culture
wars. Obama sent gay athletes in the American delegation to the Sochi Olympics.
Pussy Riot was feted as heroic.
What troubles us? It can’t be that we are upset at
Russian violations of human rights at home; that doesn’t trouble anyone who
approves America’s special relationship with Saudi Arabia. It can’t be that we
really fear it as a long-term rival for power. Russia shrinks, China grows. So
what is it?
In elite policymaking circles, in the well-lit rooms
lined with free bottles of spring water, where people grandly refer to
themselves as “Atlanticists,” Russia isn’t spoken about as if it were a nation
with its own history, impelling national interests, and problems. Instead, both
privately and publicly, it is spoken of like a ghost written into the Western
storyline. It haunts the West. It is the motor behind every unwelcome political
development. It is blamed for the rise of Viktor Orbán in Hungary, even if he
was the product of Atlanticist institutions. People blame Russia for the rise
of a populist nationalist party in Poland, even if that party is led by a man
who believes Putin killed his brother.
Russia functions as symbol of Western self-doubt, in all
its varieties. Western populists doubt that their leadership class has their
interests at heart, and they imagine that Putin stands up for his country. Some
in the Western political class doubt that their post–Cold War program of
ever-freer movement of goods, capital, and people could ever come to ruin. And
so they believe its apparent rejection in the votes for Brexit and Donald Trump
must be the product of Russian machinations.
For others the doubts are darker. The post-war program
lately produces more economic dislocation than they expected and more political
turmoil than they can stomach. It also produces hypocrisy. Russians are
expected to swallow the corruption of Yeltsin being foisted on them. But
Western elites can’t even handle a few Facebook memes
In some of those rooms of Atlanticists, there is a little
guilt, too. Don’t the financial institutions in the city of London depend on
the fortunes of Russian oligarchs? So too the personal wealth of our elites is
partly reflected in the inflated real-estate prices of London, New York, and
Paris, which depend on those Russians who buy it up and visit once every few
months, if ever. Some of the children of America’s elite go to private school
with these young Russian resource-heirs, the ones whose families were enriched
by shock therapy.
Some day we might learn again that Russia is simply a
nation-state with its own enduring interests. We may one day accept, or at least
understand, that its ugly political culture is informed by an unhappy history
and unlucky geography. We may even recognize our own blunders in our
relationship. Right now we are too wrapped up in our own factional domestic
disputes, and too haunted by our own feeling that we lack leadership and policy
wisdom, our own fear that we lack the will to maintain our way of life or the
ability to change it.
But I’m not sure I long for that day. Self-knowledge of
this type is usually only given to us through unspeakable tragedy. The day
Russian conspiracy theories no longer amuse or soothe us will be a day when
nothing can or will.
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