aurel braun - nato-russia relations in the 21st century

NATO–Russia Relations in the Twenty-First Century

Since the end of the Cold War, NATO has redefi ned its raison d’etre: extending its membership, broadening its political goals and widening its zone of operation. It has also sought to enhance its co-operation with Russia, for example through the NATO–Russia Council, though moves here have coincided with factors which make co-operation more diffi cult, such as growing uncertainty about the transition to democracy in Russia, a feeling among some people in Russia that NATO enlargement, and the simultaneous diminution of Russia’s infl uence were related, and, more recently, Russia’s attempts to reassert its infl uence over its neighbouring states. This book analyzes the current state of relations between NATO and Russia, examining a number of key areas, and assesses the prospects for future development. It concludes that all parties have a powerful interest in building and maintaining security, and that co-operation and the growth of the zone of democracy hold out the best hope for solving some of Russia’s most seminal security concerns.

Aurel Braun is Professor of International Relations and Political Science at the University of Toronto. He has published extensively on communist affairs and strategic studies with a special focus on the problems of the transformation of the socialist systems in the former Soviet Union and in Eastern Europe. He is also a specialist in international law. He is the author and/or editor of several books, including Dilemmas of Transition and The Extreme Right: Freedom and Security At Risk.

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2 Civil–Military Relations in Russia and Eastern EuropeDavid J. Betz

3 The Extreme Nationalist Threat in RussiaThe growing infl uence of Western rightist ideasThomas Parland

4 Economic Development in TatarstanGlobal markets and a Russian regionLeo McCann

5 Adapting to Russia’s New Labour MarketGender and employment strategyEdited by Sarah Ashwin

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10 The Rebuilding of Greater RussiaPutin’s foreign policy towards the CIS countriesBertil Nygren

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12 Democracy Building and Civil Society in Post-Soviet ArmeniaArmine Ishkanian

13 NATO –Russia Relations in the Twenty-First CenturyAurel Braun

NATO–Russia Relations in the Twenty-First Century

Edited by Aurel Braun

First published 2008 by Routledge2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon, OX14 4RN

Simultaneously published in the USA and Canadaby Routledge270 Madison Avenue, New York, NY 10016

Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business

© 2008 Aurel Braun for selection and editorial matter; individual contributors their contribution

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers.

British Library Cataloguing in Publication DataA catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

Library of Congress Cataloguing in Publication DataBraun, Aurel.

Nato-Russia relations in the twenty-fi rst century / Aurel Braun. p. cm. – (Routledge contemporary Russia and Eastern Europe series) Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 978-0-415-45319-6 (cloth : alk. paper) – ISBN 978-0-203-92901-8 (ebook) 1. North Atlantic Treaty Organization–Russia (Federation) 2. Russia (Federation)–Foreign relations. I. Title. JZ5930.B73 2008355’.0310918210947–dc222007039022

ISBN 10: 0-415-45319-4 (hbk)ISBN 10: 0-203-92901-2 (ebk)

ISBN 13: 978-0-415-45319-6 (hbk)ISBN 13: 978-0-203-92901-8 (ebk)

This edition published in the Taylor & Francis e-Library, 2008.

“To purchase your own copy of this or any of Taylor & Francis or Routledge’scollection of thousands of eBooks please go to www.eBookstore.tandf.co.uk.”

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To Julianna, David and Daniel

Contents

List of tables ixList of contributors xAcknowledgements xii

Introduction 1

SECTION I

1 Electing to fi ght: emerging democracies and international instability 11EDWARD D. MANSFIELD AND JACK SNYDER

2 Post-postcommunist Russia, the international environment and NATO 25TIMOTHY J. COLTON

3 Russia, NATO enlargement and the strengthening of democracy in the European space 39S. NEIL MACFARLANE

SECTION II

4 Enlargement and the perils of containment 55AUREL BRAUN

5 NATO beyond Russia 72STANLEY R. SLOAN

6 NATO enlargement and Russia 91JEFFREY SIMON

SECTION III

7 NATO, the European Union, Russia and the fi ght against terrorism 111PETER R. NEUMANN

8 Can Russia be a partner for NATO in the Middle East? 123ROBERT O. FREEDMAN

9 Is East–West integration possible? 161STEPHEN J. BLANK

Conclusion 185

Index 195

Tables

1 Russian mass preferences on major policy issues, winter 2003–04 282 Correlation matrix for issue preferences, education, and age group 293 Trend in mass attitudes toward NATO as a bloc, 1997–2004 334 Comparison of mass and elite attitudes toward NATO, April 2004 345 Trend in mass attitudes toward Russia joining NATO, 2001–04 356 Trend in mass attitudes toward strengthened cooperation with

NATO, 1999–2004 367 Comparison of mass and elite attitudes toward strengthened

cooperation with NATO, April 2004 36

Contributors

Stephen J. Blank, Douglas MacArthur Professor of Research of National Security Affairs, US Army War College. Current research includes proliferation and the revolution in military affairs, and energy and security in Eurasia. Publications include Imperial Decline: Russia’s Changing Role in Asia (Duke).

Aurel Braun, Professor of International Relations and Political Science at the University of Toronto. He has published extensively on communist affairs and strategic studies with a special focus on the problems of the transformation of the socialist systems in the former Soviet Union and in Eastern Europe. He is also a specialist in international law. His publications include Dilemmas of Transition (Rowman & Littlefi eld) and The Extreme Right: Freedom and Security at Risk (Westview).

Timothy J. Colton, Director, Davis Center for Russian and Eurasian Affairs, Morris and Anna Feldberg Professor of Government and Russian Studies, Harvard University. Research interests include Russian and post-Soviet government and politics, Russian elections and public opinion. Publications include TransitionalCitizens: Voters and What Infl uences Them in the New Russia (Harvard).

Robert O. Freedman, Peggy Meyerhoff Pearlstone Professor of Political Science, Baltimore Hebrew University and Visiting Professor of Political Science, Johns Hopkins University. Research includes post-Soviet foreign policy and the Middle East. Publications include Moscow and the Middle East: Soviet Policy Since the Invasion of Afghanistan (Cambridge).

S. Neil MacFarlane, Lester B. Pearson Professor of International Relations, Chair of Politics and Director of the Centre for International Study, University of Oxford. Research interests include international organizations and security, and foreign policy of the former Soviet Union/CIS. Publications include HumanSecurity and the UN: A Critical History (Indiana).

Edward D. Mansfi eld, Hum Rosen Professor of Political Science, University of Pennsylvania. Research focuses on international security and international political economy. Currently working on the effects of democratization on interstate confl ict and the political economy of international trade. Publications include Power, Trade and War (Princeton).

Contributors xi

Peter R. Neumann, Director, Centre for Defense Studies, King’s College London, UK. Research includes international terrorism, intelligence, and terrorist strategy. Publications include Britain’s Long War: British Strategy in the Northern Ireland Confl ict 1969–98 (Palgrave Macmillan).

Jeffrey Simon, Senior Research Fellow, Institute for National Strategic Studies, National Defense University. Research interests include NATO and civil–military relations. Publications include NATO and the Czech and Slovak Republics: A Comparative Study of Civil–Military Relations (Rowman & Littlefi eld) and Poland and NATO: A Study of Civil–Military Relations (Rowman & Littlefi eld).

Stanley R. Sloan, Director, Atlantic Community Initiative, Visiting Scholar, Middlebury College. Publications include NATO, the European Union, and the Atlantic Community: The Transatlantic Bargain Challenged (Rowman & Littlefi eld).

Jack Snyder, Robert and Renee Belfer Professor of International Relations in the Political Science Department and the Institute of War and Peace Studies, Columbia University. Current research focuses on international relations theory, post-Soviet politics and nationalism. Publications include From Voting to Violence: Democratization and Nationalist Confl ict (Norton).

Acknowledgements

As we move deeper into the twenty-fi rst century, the assumption that the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO), Russia, as well as Alliance–Russian rela-tions will somehow just muddle through, is sadly little more than just wishful thinking, as is the idea that standard scholarly analysis will remain adequate. Relative complacency would mean a static approach that ultimately is likely to prove bereft of new ideas at a time when we need to deal with an increasingly complex international political and strategic situation. If we are to better address security, in all of its dimensions, in the vast region that stretches from Vancouver to Vladivostok, and includes the NATO members and the countries that occupy the former Soviet space, there is considerable need for new thinking about issues, identities, and strategies. It would be extraordinarily diffi cult, if not impossible, however, for any individual to bring suffi cient expertise to effectively address all of this. I think it is most fortunate, therefore, that we were able to bring together a group of distinguished senior scholars to focus on these matters. Collectively, we were able to work out ideas and bring to bear a variety of perspectives to the Alliance–Russia relationship that hopefully both refl ects current and will stimulate new thinking on change and security.

In the process of shaping this book, we collectively benefi ted from the input and advice of many. I want to thank Mikhail A. Troitskiy from the Moscow State Institute of International Relations, Peter Lunak from NATO, and John Kirton, Director of the G8 Research Group, as well as the Hon. William Graham, Senator Jane Cordy, the Hon. David Pratt, Senator Colin Kenny, and Dr Bernard Patry. We also very much welcomed the input of senior diplomats from Russia and NATO, and their views and questions helped us to better focus our analysis for this book. Without all of this help, this work would certainly not have been possible.

There are many others who deserve our gratitude. This work was made possible through the generous funding of the Department of Foreign Affairs and International Trade (DFAIT) of Canada, NATO’s Public Diplomacy Division, and the Department of National Defence of Canada. In particular, I want to thank two individuals for their unstinting support and wise advice, Paul Chapin from DFAIT and J. P. Ollivier of the NATO Public Diplomacy Division. I especially want to thank the indefatigable Aharon Mayne of DFAIT for his magnifi cent and crucial input. Many others also worked hard to make this project possible. They included

Acknowledgements xiii

Ilia Burtman, Patrick Tanadeo, Ho Lee, David Braun, Linden Deathe, and Huma Haider. I also very much appreciate the encouragement of the Senior Editor from Routledge, Peter Sowden and his associate, Tom Bates. And I most want to think my wife, Julianna, who again has brought her superb editing skills to this project, offered me excellent advice and given me invaluable support.

As Editor, I have overall responsibility though for any errors or omissions in terms of content.

Aurel BraunProfessor of International Relations and Political Science

University of Toronto

IntroductionThinking about security and democracy

Aurel Braun

With the end of the Cold War, NATO has continued to struggle to defi ne its identity and clarify its raison d’être. It has made considerable progress as it broadened its political goals, partly refl ected through enlargement, and it has widened its areas of operation, far beyond its original zone. As the Alliance also sought simultaneously to enhance its cooperation with Russia, the latter has become more assertive just as its transition to democracy has become more uncertain. Yet, all parties have a powerful interest in building and maintaining security. This work attempts to assess the problems and prospects of achieving the right balance for the twenty-fi rst century – one that could allow for these goals to be fulfi lled.

Further, the objective here is to evaluate transatlantic security in an innovative, broadly construed fashion, allowing for a certain degree of geographic elasticity that encompasses the vast Vancouver to Vladivostok region. This work also incorporates the premise that although NATO enlargement has coincided with a diminution of Russian regional infl uence (and may perhaps have stimulated it), the growth of the zone of democracy may hold out the best hope for solving some of Russia’s most seminal security concerns and is most likely to help create a large zone of stability. Consequently, this book assesses the possibilities of an evolving security framework that can reconcile NATO’s drive for democratization with Russian security needs. Nevertheless, in this assessment, the contributors to this book are also informed by the fact that a signifi cant segment of the Russian policy-making elite appears to have concluded that there has been a direct correlation (and for many, a causal relationship) between NATO enlargement and the retreat of Russian infl uence. As such, we need to be cognizant of the fact that Moscow’s acquiescence to past post Communist enlargement is not the same as genuine acceptance. NATO assurances to the contrary and despite the creation of the NATO–Russia Council there have been widespread concerns in Russia that Alliance enlargement is aimed against Moscow.1

NATO, for its part, remains worried about the direction of Russia’s transition and about its prospects of becoming a stable, pluralistic country. Moscow has been centralizing power at home, has placed new restraints on the activities of NGOs,2

has greatly increased state control over the economy, particularly the energy sector, and has used the energy leverage derived from its vast oil and natural gas reserves to try to attain foreign policy goals. Though Russia has sought to employ such

2 A. Braun

leverage in a subtle way in Western Europe, it has been far more blunt and assertive when it comes to the Commonwealth of Independent States (CIS) members and Eastern European states. For instance, Moscow has made particularly strenuous efforts in the past few years to project its infl uence into some of the neighboring states such as the Ukraine and Georgia.3

This book tries to take advantage of the collective expertise of its contributors to conduct a 360 degree examination of issues and to continually test the interplay between domestic and foreign policy variables in order to produce an analysis that illuminates current developments and provides analysts with better tools to understand future tendencies and trends. The collection, then, assesses a larger strategic frame, the dialogues and the policies that shape transition and NATO–Russian relations and the domestic factors that infl uence perceptions of external developments and drive foreign policy. Each section of the book seeks a cohesive approach and an organic linkage to the work’s overarching theme.

The fi rst section provides a theoretical framework for better understanding international behaviour in periods of transition from one political order to another as well as the interplay between domestic and external variables when it comes to strengthening democracy in Russia and building trust within the vast geographi -cal zone that we are examining. In the opening chapter in this section, Edward D. Mansfi eld and Jack Snyder challenge the more simplistic expectations that regime change toward democracy will necessarily reduce the risk of confl ict. There were, indeed, widespread expectations that democratization in East Central Europe and Russian declarations about Moscow’s goals to democratize and join the com munity of democratic states would ensure peace and stability. Mansfi eld and Snyder certainly do not argue that all democratic transitions are dangerous and in fact acknowledge that those that occur in the presence of strong, stable domestic institu tions are often rather peaceful. What they do suggest, though, is that according to their research, there is considerable risk of war in the case of states that are start ing to democratize and that lack the coherence in the political institutions that are required to make democracy work – such as the rule of law, organized parties that compete in elections and professional news media. Mansfi eld and Snyder are espe cially concerned when these institutions are deformed or weak, or when politicians try to resort to nationalist appeals in order to prevail in electoral competitions.4 According to them this increases the prospects that democratiza-tion will facilitate hostilities at home and abroad. Further, intense nationalism and exaggerated foreign policy goals create a volatile domestic and international situation.

Mansfi eld and Snyder point to problems when powerful elites are threatened by democratization. The two authors’ arguments, moreover, have prescriptive implications. These are especially relevant to Russia, other former Soviet republics, and to part of Eastern Europe. The writers point out that although transitions do not necessarily need to proceed slowly, they need to be built on solid foundations in order to neutralize potential spoilers in society. Certainly, Mansfi eld and Snyder are rightly concerned about failed and violent transitions that may leave behind nationalist ideologies, militarized institutions, anti-democratic rules, and foreign

Introduction 3

enmities that both inhibit democratization and raise the risks of violent external behaviour.

In the second chapter in this section, Timothy J. Colton examines specifi c Russian developments and attitudes that ultimately relate to democratization and external security, from an “inside out” perspective. He conducts a kind of “reality check” about contemporary Russia and its Eurasian neighbours. Russian has, in his view, entered a qualitatively new phase. He suggests that crucial choices about the political regime and the organization of public and private life has been confi rmed in most places and that with new international alignments either in place or coming into sight, this makes a re-examination of relations between a new Russia and NATO especially timely. He also highlights the need for the Euro-Atlantic alliance and the established democracies to review and to update their policy options.

That said, adjustments will not be easy in the case of any of the parties. Colton, though, suggests areas where the options are not necessarily obvious but execution remains diffi cult. He also brings into his work extensive empirical studies about Russian attitudes and perceptions regarding domestic interests and external. Problems with democratization, the concern of the Russian public about domestic stability, fears about a changing international environment and differences between elite and mass opinion within Russia (where the former have been consistently more hostile) mean that post-communist Russia is driven both by complex and contradictory impulses that the Western alliance needs to better understand and more effectively address. The challenge, therefore, is that of new thinking and Colton concludes that the United States and the Alliance, having lived off the intellectual capital of many years past, needs to commit to fi nding new frameworks for security in Europe, which should include in that new structure a modern democratic Russia that just does not yet exist.

By contrast, S. Neil MacFarlane, in the next chapter, employs an “outside-in” approach. First, he points out that many in the West and in Eastern Europe consider NATO enlargement to be one vital dimension of a large project to create a single normative space that is characterized by democratic values, respect for human rights, open economies, and durable peace. Institutions including the European Union (EU) see the same goals. Yet, MacFarlane makes it clear that Russia’s current government, and perhaps most Russians, show little interest in the development in liberal democratic institutions and in the past several years we have witnessed a steady effort, on the part of the government, to narrow the space for freedom of expression in the media. In fact, he suggests that Russia’s resistance to efforts by outsiders to engage in its internal affairs is accompanied by a robust defense of the very traditional notions of absolute sovereignty. Further, Russia has viewed democratic “revolutions” in both Georgia and Ukraine as resulting from Western interference motivated by a desire to weaken Russian infl uence in the region.

MacFarlane in essence argues that the deepening engagement of Western insti tutions and states in the affairs of the non-Russian former Soviet republics raises the prospects of growing tension in these institutions’ and states’ relations with Russia. With Russia consolidating the regime’s power at the centre and that of the centre over the subjects of the Russian Federation and over the economy,

4 A. Braun

Moscow’s reaction to external forces has been to increasingly push back. But the Russian position on relations with its neighbouring states and its actions in many parts of the world MacFarlane concludes, are diffi cult to reconcile with Western democratic preferences. This in turn, he argues, may make the creation of a vast zone of security, within the regions we are addressing, more diffi cult to attain and the potential for Russian confl ict with NATO states, in the broader international system, greater.

In the second section of the book, the chapters deal with the NATO transforma-tion and Alliance perceptions and goals. In my chapter in this section, I caution that what seems to be the effective transformation of NATO into a more political organization and into an alliance that is capable of out-of-area operations and of enlarging its membership into the former communist space in Europe (while bring-ing Russia in through the NATO–Russia Council), in fact, camoufl ages important confl icting goals and fi ssures that in the long term endanger both the spread of democracy and the building of security. Basically, I suggest that what emerges, on closer scrutiny, are attempts by Russia, the East European members and some key Western allies at complex, multiple and overlapping containment to ensure national interests and guarantee long term security. This, however, requires an intricate political choreography that will be extraordinarily diffi cult to achieve.

NATO, therefore, needs to look beyond superfi cial arrangements and has to remain patient and persistent in building democracy and fostering a community of democratic states. Russia, in turn, needs to forgo Primakovian fantasies5 of regaining superpower status by manipulating neighbours and undercutting the large democracies, just as the Eastern European states have to appreciate that they are not likely to succeed by building “walls,” segregating Russia and creating buffer zones.

As well, key Western European states in the Alliance need to come to the realization that they are likely to be better off by working on an equitable and sustainable partnership with Washington, rather than cynically seeking to use Russia to create a counterweight to the US and contain it. Further, the West European allies need to realize that they would better aid the Alliance and the prospects for a wider security architecture if they treated the new members with greater sensitivity and reassurance.

Stanley R. Sloan, in the next chapter in this section, brings a somewhat different perspective to the discussion of NATO and its relations with Russia when he asserts that Russia is no longer the primary security concern for the Alliance, even though Russia’s evolution remains an important variable in Europe’s future. That Russia is not the Alliance’s primary concern, of course, is to an extent self-evident, but in his approach, Sloan, places Russia into a different compartment and hierarchy than many other analysts as he assesses the current health and future outlook for the Alliance. The latter, in his view, is moving beyond Russia, and even Europe, on the way to becoming an alliance with global missions. Sloan recognizes that within the Alliance there are problems in a quest for restructuring a positive transatlantic dynamic and that the issues of Europeanism and Atlanticism have to be addressed by France, Germany and Great Britain.

Introduction 5

Sloan is also right to point out that the attitudes and capabilities that the United States and Europe bring to the NATO table, in the near future, will determine whether the Alliance will become part of the answer to the problems of global stability. The question, though, remains whether his minimization of the role and reality of Russia is justifi ed and wise in terms of Alliance thinking and long-term strategy and whether such an approach would in fact lead to a productive trans-atlantic bargain that, in his words, “has moved beyond Russia.”

Jeffrey Simon, in the third chapter of this section, examines NATO and Russia through distinct stages of Alliance evolution and via the need for NATO to shift its focus toward building barriers against new threats. He also points to the desirability of the Alliance to build bridges to ensure vital energy supplies from the Caspian and Black Seas to Europe. He further contends that in order to accomplish these tasks of building barriers against threats and construct bridges, NATO needs to foster wider regional and broader functional security cooperation. That means, in his view, reaching out, not only to all the 26 Alliance members, but also working with the Partnership for Peace partners, including Russia.

There are opportunities, according to Simon, in a number of areas including working with the Black Sea region organizations, though there are some problems given the predominance of competitive national agendas. Moreover, Russia’s role in the Black Sea will remain crucial. Last, Simon points out that, in order to meet post-9/11 challenges, NATO also needs to better cooperate and coordinate its efforts with the EU and that such successful cooperation could be the basis for a new transatlantic relationship that will enhance European security.

In the third section of this work the authors deal with prospects for cooperation, in various other areas, between NATO and Alliance states on the one hand; and Russia on the other. Effective cooperation would enhance the prospects for security in the vast region that we are looking at as well as improve the prospects for advancing democracy. Diffi culties and obstacles, though, also refl ect the inhibiting factors in building trust and strengthening democracy in the region and of setting NATO–Russia relations on a new footing.

In his chapter, Peter Neumann examines the prospects for cooperation in the areas that deal with terrorism. The latter of course is of profound concern to all NATO members as well as to Russia. Therefore, one would think that this is where we could see great progress in NATO–Russia relations where cooperation in counter-terrorism could have a vital, benefi cial “spill-over effect.” Though there have been important areas of cooperation with Russia when it comes to terrorism, Neumann points out that there are also great obstacles. He also notes that there are major conceptual differences in the approaches to terrorism, even between key West European states on one hand and the United States on the other. Further, he shows that the EU does not have a “collective” will and that as an organization it is unlikely to be able to take the lead role in building a cooperative relationship with Russia. Instead, he suggests that bilateral relations between individual EU members and Russia will remain the predominant way in which threats from terrorism are addressed. His argument that Russia’s role in the fi ght against terrorism is critical, but that the European Union is not the channel through which this partnership

6 A. Braun

should be pursued is especially salient. It suggests that bilateral relations, including those between the United States and Canada on the one hand, and Russia on the other, also remain crucial.

The problems of terrorism persist and even grow as the questions about the security of the Russian nuclear arsenal and the disappearance fi ssile material remain unresolved. Therefore, Russia and all the NATO states need to be on the same page, conceptually, when it comes to addressing terrorism. They should be persistent and creative, according to Neumann, whether bilaterally or multilaterally, in engaging in counter-terrorism in terms of defeating this twenty-fi rst century scourge and especially if the parties are to achieve consensus on this issue to build trust and enhance security throughout this large region.

In the second chapter in this section, Robert Freedman addresses the question of whether Russia can be a partner for NATO in the Middle East – or even more specifi cally, whether Russia can be a genuine partner in general. Freedman, moreover, makes particularly strenuous efforts to evaluate the interplay of domestic and foreign policy variables under President Putin’s rule. To accomplish his goals, he employs four case studies, including “The war on terrorism” and “Russia’s relations with Iran.” Through these case studies he is able to present a deep and nuanced picture, but one that is hardly reassuring.

Freedman demonstrates that there is a strong link between domestic developments in Russia and its foreign policy behaviour. He fi nds that, together with Russia’s retreat from democracy, Russia’s policies in the Middle East are increasingly at variance with those of Western interests. After meticulously dissecting Russian behaviour, in the four cases, Freedman concludes that Russia pursues policies based on a particular interpretation of national interest that are so linked to authoritarian domestic politics and grandiose international goals that there are grave questions as to whether Russia could be deemed to be a real partner to NATO in the various crises in the Middle East. It is also questionable, he contends, whether Putin’s Russia can be trusted to play a partnership role in the international community. Such a pessimistic assessment suggests that overall developments in Russia do not bode well for a productive partnership with NATO.

In the last chapter in this section, Stephen J. Blank largely concurs with this pessimistic assessment. He suggests that the optimistic proclamations by Russian, American and European elites – as recently as 2002 – that there was a consensus about the goal of reuniting Russia with the West has been superseded by skepticism and growing tensions on economic, political and military issues. Russia has largely renounced whatever goals it had articulated relating to integration, just as it has deviated from an evolution toward democracy.

Instead, Blank argues that Russia has pursued an imperial posture throughout the CIS and an obstructionist policy especially in its relations with the United States. He contends that there may yet be a positive resolution to these problems because, fi rst, Russia may understand just how costly and unsustainable its policies within the CIS are and, second, the West will help Moscow appreciate the steadily rising price for pursuing policies that in the long-term damage it as well its relations with democratic states. He claims that the Western political will to build new

Introduction 7

initiatives could help, especially if these lead to policies designed to realize the opportunity that exists to push Russia back onto a more positive track. At the same time, Blank points out that failure to bring change will mean the loss of a chance to create a durable system of security for resolving wars and confl icts in the CIS and this in turn would be extremely deleterious to the prospects of NATO–Russia cooperation and security.

In sum, there is a consensus among the contributors that, although there are opportunities for building trust and strengthening democracies in a new NATO–Russian relationship in this century, there are also many risks and grave dangers. Russia has been evolving differently from most of the Eastern European states and Moscow’s domestic detours from democracy and unbridled foreign policy ambitions have made it a diffi cult and unpredictable partner. Yet, unless we are prepared to think of NATO as an entity that has moved “beyond Russia,” a position that may be both premature and imprudent, we need to carefully rethink the entire Alliance–Russia relationship. We should appreciate that it is too early to give up on democracy in Russia, just as it would seem to be too risky to think that we can build long-lasting, sustainable security in this vast region without a democratic Russia. Granted that Russian democracy may not look like those in Western Europe, but the core elements that Mansfi eld, Snyder and Colton, among others, have written about do have to be there and again there is no reason why Russia, for its own benefi t, may not come back to thinking that this will suit its own long-term interests.

What we do need, however, is new thinking that is also realistic about the opportunities and about the diffi culties in Russia. As well, the Alliance has to set its own house in order if it is to move beyond what are at times contradictory bilateral relations with Moscow. Clever political choreography by the West Europeans, the Eastern European states or Russia is not likely to bring them the “containment” that they think they can achieve. Moreover, the multiple attempts at containment are highly unlikely to coalesce into one effective, overarching security strategy.

Yet, there are many crucial areas of common interest, whether combating terrorism, or addressing frozen confl icts, regional cooperation or energy distribution where cooperation in this vast region would benefi t greatly from an effective overall security approach. Moreover, a good deal of cooperation could be realized even if we recognized that in some areas disagreements would persist. To achieve substantial progress though, Russia would need to move beyond nineteenth century style international ambitions and twenty-fi rst century fantasies; the Eastern European states within NATO would have to think in terms of bridges not walls in their eastern relations; the Western Europeans and the North American members would have to work for a revitalized partnership instead of counterweights; and the Alliance as a whole would need to formulate a policy towards Russia that is generous and sensitive, but at the same time unapologetic about the need for democratic transformation and responsible international behaviour.

8 A. Braun

Notes

1 Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty, Features, “Russia Says U.S. Building ‘New Berlin Wall’,” 8 July 2007.

2 Andrew E. Kramer, “50% Good News Is the Bad News in Russian Radio,” New York Times, 22 April 2007; Alan Rusbridger, “Press Repression in Russia and Turkey Growing,” Guardian, 22 May 2007; Steven Lee Myers, “Youth Groups Created by Kremlin Serve Putin’s Cause,” New York Times, 8 July 2007.

3 Yuliya Tymoshenko, “Containing Russia,” Foreign Affairs, May–June 2007; Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty, Features, Roman Kupchinsky, “Russia–Ukraine: Pipeline Confl ict Resurfaces,” 28 June 2007; Ahto Lobjakas, “Georgia: Walking a Tightrope Toward the West,” Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty, Features, 4 November 2006; Andrew E. Kramer, “Russia Threatens Cut in Belarus Gas Supply,” New York Times, 2 August 2007.

4 The problems of Russia becoming an “authoritarian Great Power” are well articulated by Azar Gat in “The Return of Authoritarian Great Powers,” Foreign Affairs, July–August2007.

5 Aurel Braun, “All Quiet on the Russian Front? Russia, Its Neighbors, and the Russian Diaspora,” in Michael Mandelbaum, ed., The New European Diasporas (New York: Council on Foreign Relations Press, 2000), pp. 139–40.

Section I

1 Electing to fi ghtEmerging democracies and international instability1

Edward D. Mansfi eld and Jack Snyder

The collapse of the Berlin Wall and the fall of the Soviet Union led to wide-spread hopes that countries in the former Eastern bloc would undergo transitions to democracy and thereby contribute to peace and stability in the region. These hopes rested largely on the fi nding that war has never broken out between mature democracies.2 Various observers extrapolated from the existence of a “democratic peace” to argue that any regime change toward democracy will reduce the risk of confl ict.3

In the long run, it is probably true that the further spread of democracy will promote peace and stability. In the short run, however, the initial stages of democ-ra tization frequently stimulate both international and civil wars. This link between democratization and the use of force has been apparent in various regions during the post-Cold War era, but the underlying pattern is as old as democracy itself, dating to the French Revolution, if not earlier. Our argument is not that all demo cratic transitions are dangerous. Those that occur in the face of strong, stable domestic insti tutions are often quite peaceful. In contrast, there is a considerable risk of war in states that are starting to democratize and that lack the coherent politi cal institutions needed to make democracy work, such as an effective state bureaucracy, the rule of law, organized parties that compete in fair elections, and pro fes sional news media. When these institutions are deformed or weak, politicians are better able to resort to nationalist appeals, tarring their opponents as enemies of the nation, in order to prevail in electoral competition. The use of such appeals generally heightens the prospect that democratization will stimulate hostilities at home and abroad.

Wars of democratization

The end of the Cold War precipitated a wave of democratization throughout the world. Some of these transitions were orderly and peaceful; others were not. In 1991, Yugoslavia splintered into warring nations only months after elections in which ethnic nationalism played an important role.4 In the aftermath of the Soviet Union’s collapse, popular sentiment expressed in the streets and at the ballot box fueled a heated confl ict between Armenia and Azerbaijan over the disputed enclave of Nagorno-Karabakh.5 As Peru and Ecuador made halting efforts to democratize during the 1980s and 1990s, each of their governments bid for popularity by

12 E.D. Mansfield and J. Snyder

provoking armed clashes that culminated in a war in the upper Amazon in 1995.6

Soon after Ethiopia’s Dergue dictatorship collapsed, the country’s elected govern-ment went to war with Eritrea in 1998; the latter country had recently adopted a democratic constitution.7 In 1999, the nuclear-armed, elected regimes of India and Pakistan fought the Kargil War after Pakistani forces infi ltrated northern Kashmir. The war erupted as Pakistan was taking steps to foster democratization, including changing its constitution to strengthen the powers of elected leaders.8

Furthermore, civil violence in various democratizing countries spilled into neigh bor ing countries during the 1990s. In 1993, Burundi held elections that intensifi ed ethnic polarization between Hutus and Tutsis, leading to some 200,000 fatal ities. In nearby Rwanda, an internationally orchestrated accord that was intended to promote greater pluralism and political openness instead created the conditions for a genocide that killed almost a million Tutsi and some moderate Hutu in 1994.9 The Tutsi’s exile army, which was based in Uganda, invaded Rwanda to end the genocide. Its victory led Hutu refugees to fl ee into neighboring Congo, where further fi ghting has caused millions of additional deaths.

Elsewhere, democratic transitions coincided with secessionist wars. East Timor voted to separate from Indonesia in an internationally mandated 1999 refer en dum, prompting Indonesian-backed Timorese militias to unleash a wave of large-scale attacks. During the initial phase of democratization, Russia fought two wars against the breakaway province of Chechnya. Vladimir Putin was elected president of Russia in 2000 largely on the basis of the popular support for his plan to invade Chechnya and eradicate what he characterized as its lair of terrorists and brigands. In each of the situations discussed in this section, the turbulent start of democra-tization in countries with weak political institutions contributed to violence. This tendency, however, is hardly limited to the post-Cold War era. Over the past two centuries, most great powers and many smaller states resorted to the sword as they started making democratic transitions.

The links between incomplete democratic transitions and war

Some countries make relatively speedy and smooth transitions to consolidated democracy, as occurred in Hungary, Poland, and some other parts of the post-communist world. Such transitions are unlikely to be violent. Our argument is that wars are especially likely to occur when transitions stall prior to the estab-lish ment of coherent democratic institutions in countries where the underlying political institutions are weak and unstable. Under these conditions, there is an increased demand for mass participation in politics, which compels elites to recruit popular allies in order to gain offi ce. At the same time, however, the absence of coherent democratic institutions limits the extent to which elites are account-able to the average voter.10 Groups that are threatened by democratization have reason to exploit this situation by invoking populist rhetoric of rule for the people without sub scrib ing to rule by the people. Even those groups that would prefer the establishment of stable democracy fi nd the nascent and poorly formed demo-cratic institutions too ineffectual to serve their purposes. Furthermore, elites of

Electing to fight 13

various stripes have the motive and the opportunity to resort to nationalist rhetoric to mobilize mass support, unleashing a political dynamic that often draws the democratizing country into military confl icts.

The break-up of an autocratic regime can proceed in various ways. In some cases, one autocrat is replaced by another. This is a common outcome when power is concentrated in the hands of a few elites and mass mobilization is limited. In other cases, the autocratic regime is relatively quickly and smoothly replaced by a democratic regime. This trajectory is most likely when power is widely diffused throughout society, the populace is relatively well-educated, institutions that can be adapted to democracy are already in place at the time of the transition or can be quickly constructed, and leaders of the autocratic regime expect to avoid being punished by the new democratic government.

In many cases, however, the autocratic regime’s collapse yields an incomplete democratic transition to a mixed (or “anocratic”) regime that combines some features of autocracy and some features of democracy. Some mixed regimes are quite stable: they are no more likely to become embroiled in war than are stable democracies or stable autocracies.11 Others revert to autocracy or ultimately (often in a series of stop-and-go spurts) become coherent democracies; both of these types of regimes are slightly more war-prone than stable regimes. War is most likely in mixed regimes that have experienced an incomplete transition from autocracy towards democracy. It is the political dynamic set in motion by this type of transition in countries where state institutions are weak, rather than the steady-state politics of a mixed regime, that increases the risk of armed confl ict.

The nature of power and the calculus of interests in incomplete democratization

As an autocratic regime starts to collapse and demands for mass participation increase, power often diffuses throughout society.12 Elites in the autocratic regime retain resources and networks of loyalties that can be adapted to the new political setting. At the same time, new elites frequently are able to articulate and thus draw power from the aspirations of rising social classes, interest groups, or aggrieved ethnicities. Where state institutions are weak, mass groups compete for power, and elite cartels are strong relative to the state but divided among themselves, conditions are ripe for nationalist mobilization and war.

Under these circumstances, the state is likely to have trouble managing the rising power of mass groups and elite interest groups, including bureaucratic and economic cartels that split off from the collapsing autocracy. Existing institutions are eroding and new democratic institutions are not suffi ciently well formed to replace them. The result is likely to be what Samuel Huntington has described as the dynamic of “praetorian societies.”13 In such societies, each parochial group aims to make sure that its interests are served and no group has the ability or the incentive to ensure that the overall policy is coherent.14 Short-sighted political bargains stemming from logrolling among concentrated interests can contribute to political–military confl ict, especially if the more infl uential cartels


include imperialist, militarist, and protectionist interests. For example, Germany’s incomplete democratization in the late nineteenth century generated a “marriage of iron and rye.” Weakened German state authorities doled out a fl eet-building program to elicit the support of the navy and the steel trusts (thus making an enemy of Britain), offered agricultural protection to obtain the favor of aristo-cratic rye growers and small farmers (thus angering grain-exporting Russia), and engaged in an arms race and an offensive strategy for land warfare to mollify the general staff (thus driving France further into the arms of Britain and Russia).15

The logrolling that marked domestic politics in this case is hardly unique. On the contrary, it marks many instances of incomplete democratization that erupted into war.

Emerging democratic institutions in such countries are likely to be too weak and manipulable to enable the public to counteract this type of dangerous logrolling. Mass politics in weakly institutionalized transitional regimes can, ironically, rein-force the strength of concentrated interests, as each elite cartel works to recruit a mass pressure group to back its piece of the logroll. Thus, in the German case, aristo cratic landowners used the Agrarian League to convince small farmers to support agricultural protectionism. Through subsidies to the popular Navy League, the navy gained the support of middle-class leaders for the new fl eet program, which promised to become a powerful symbol of modernity and an attractive source of employment.

Mass politics in these regimes can bolster the power of concentrated interests because imperfect democratic institutions are susceptible to agenda control by elites. Prior to World War One, the Kaiser, not the elected Reichstag, appointed ministers in the German government. Elected offi cials had little expertise about or control over foreign policy, other than through their power over the purse. Even budgets were enacted on a multi-year cycle, minimizing the opportunities for these offi cials to exert control. Elections were timed to take advantage of trumped-up national security crises, thereby maximizing the electorate’s sympathy for pro-military, pro-colonial, and nationalist candidates.16 Bismarck and his successors used this control of the electoral agenda and nationalist appeals to drive wedges between workers and the middle class, which might otherwise have participated in a pro-democracy coalition.17 Control of the legislative agenda also helped proponents of the expansion and modernization of the German fl eet arrange a deal whereby the Catholic Center Party voted for a large naval appropriation in exchange for elimi nating a set of laws that discriminated against Catholics. Consequently, the logroll among concentrated interests trumped diffuse interests, setting the stage for belligerent German policies that precipitated a series of international crises and then the outbreak of World War One.

These crises were in many ways an unintended side effect of self-seeking interest-group behavior. Each elite cartel feared that relinquishing its part of the policy bundle would lead to ruin. Only the state authorities – who had brokered the logrolled package – had reason to focus primarily on its consequences taken as a whole. They, however, were too weak to forge a prudent outcome. Narrow interests, such as the military, repeatedly subverted efforts by top government


leaders to rein in Germany’s overextended foreign policy. As Austrian offi cials wondered aloud during the July 1914 crisis that occurred on the eve of World War One, “Who rules in Berlin, [Chancellor] Bethmann or [Chief of the General Staff] Moltke?”18

Incomplete democratization in the face of weak institutions gives elites ample opportunity to engage in reckless foreign policy gambles in order to promote their own rise or forestall their downfall. As elites in the old, autocratic regime see their power and privilege fading and their ideological legitimacy in shambles, they have reason to fear that democratization will curtail their capacity to use state power to advance their parochial interests and that they will be punished for criminal behavior that was business-as-usual in the autocratic system. Furthermore, the weakness of emerging democratic institutions creates considerable doubt that a new democratic regime could effectively guarantee any amnesty or golden parachute that they might be promised in exchange for an agreement to surrender power. Under these conditions, gambling for the resurrection of autocratic power may seem like an attractive option. The combination of repression, patronage, and steps to create a populist sort of legitimacy may also seem attractive. Regardless of which strategy is chosen, taking risks to stave off further democratization is likely to appeal to infl uential autocratic elites.

These risks often involve foreign policy gambits that promote crises and war. Even if such a strategy has a low probability of success, elites may calculate that this tack is a promising way to rally public opinion, enhance the prestige of the regime or military interest groups, and conquer the resources needed to maintain a strategy of patronage. This strategy succeeded for Vladimir Putin in Chechnya. It succeeded briefl y for Slobodan Milosevic, until failing spectacularly in Kosovo. It failed for Ayub Khan and Nawaz Sharif in Pakistan, for the Argentine junta in the Falklands/Malvinas War, and ultimately for Germany’s coalition of iron and rye.

Institutions in incomplete democratization

The most fundamental problem associated with incomplete democratization occurring in the face of weak governmental institutions is the gap between rising demands for mass participation and the inability of institutions to reconcile confl icts of interest among groups in society.19 However, this problem is not inevitable. Sometimes a colonial regime or an autocracy leaves a useable bureaucracy in its wake that can be adapted to the new regime. In certain cases, such as Great Britain in the nineteenth century, India after independence, and South Africa in the 1990s, the institutions of representative government for the old elite can even be adapted to make the transition to a system of mass suffrage. Some of these institutions may be largely administrative; others may pertain to the effective management of demo-cratic competition. Both types of institutions are needed for democracy to fl ourish. In general, transitions are smoothest and most successful when the pre con ditions for democracy develop in a sequence that begins with the construction of orderly state administrative power and then proceeds by strengthening the rule of law and institutions of public debate. Only afterwards is it likely that these institutions will


be able to meet the challenge of integrating the confl icting interests unleashed by universal suffrage.

Such favorable patterns are rare, however, and it is especially diffi cult for aspir-ing democrats to infl uence the sequence of democratization. The central obstacle to doing so is that elites in transitional societies frequently attempt to manipulate weak democratic institutions to serve their parochial interests. Typically, elites aim to keep institutions of mass accountability as weak as possible, if not destroying them altogether. Another problem is that peoples who consider themselves deprived of the right of self-determination, encouraged by the rhetoric of powerful actors in the international community about the norm of universal suffrage, generally insist on free elections early in the transition process. States that want to resist full account-ability usually have to resort to electoral fraud or other measures that undermine democracy rather than laying the groundwork for it.

These institutional deformations increase the risk of political–military confl ict in various ways. For example, they can weaken central authorities and strengthen elite cartels, including those composed of military and economic elites close to the old regime, and leaders of irredentist or separatist ethnic groups representing rising social forces. Some of these groups may have a parochial interest in war and imperialism. Even if some special interests are opposed to risky foreign policies and confl ict, the weakness of the central authorities inhibits their ability to forestall logrolling that allows each group, including those with an interest in policies that are likely to promote war, to get what it wants most. The result is often an overcommitted foreign policy involving coercive diplomacy, opportunistic aggression, arms racing, or support for ethnic irredentism. Even worse, the weakness of central authority and the inconsistency of various policy goals due to logrolling hinder the ability of the democratizing state to send clear, credible signals to its foreign adversaries. That neither its threats nor its promises can be trusted also raises the specter of war.

Nationalism and incomplete democratization

In addition, the inability of weak institutions to accommodate rising demands for mass political participation can prompt elites to use ideology as a means to help cobble together a ruling coalition. The break-up of an autocratic regime requires new leaders and authorities to fi nd a way of legitimizing their power. Even in mixed regimes, where democratic institutions are in their infancy, elites must have popular support in order to rule. The result is often a rise in belligerent nationalism.

Elites have several ideological options for making their appeals to the mass public. First, they can turn to liberalism and its reliance on free and open competition for the right to rule, its celebration of the rule of law, and its view that leaders should be selected via the secret ballot of citizens. Liberalism, however, is unlikely to be an attractive ideological option for elites in poorly institutionalized, newly democratizing states. The stress that this ideology places on leaders’ accountability to the average voter may sit poorly with elites from the old regime, whose privileges and power typically depend on avoiding accountability. Liberalism may also fail


to serve the interests of some rising elites, including ethnic separatists who want national self-determination in a new state, rather than accountability to the median voter in an existing one.

Second, elites can make ideological appeals to the class interests of workers or peasants. Such appeals may be attractive to some rising radical elites, but workers and peasants tend to be short on guns, money, organizational capacity, and political consciousness at the beginning of democratization. Class appeals are rarely an attractive strategy for old elites, since their class interests almost by defi nition clash with those of workers and peasants. Nonetheless, elites in the old regime may try to appeal to lower-class groups by emphasizing other concerns that they have in common, for example, sectoral interests or cultural and religious values. Such cross-class alliances usually are bound together by nationalism, an ideology with tremendous appeal for elites in democratizing states.

Third, nationalism holds that the people as a whole have the right to self-rule, but it is silent on whether the government should be strictly accountable to the average voter through democratic processes and the rule of law. Thus, relying on nationalism allows elites to offer government for the people, but not necessarily by the people. Nationalism also provides a justifi cation for curtailing the rights of potential opponents.20 Nationalists can use the distinction between their own nation and others – and between their nation’s friends and foes – as a pretext for accusing “enemies” and “traitors” whose civic rights must be rolled back in order to safeguard the nation. These enmities often cross international borders: there is a long-standing tradition of tarring domestic opponents as traitors by portraying them as the “fi fth column” of enemies abroad. Nationalists adapted this strategy during the French Revolution and have continued doing so ever since.

In the face of an incomplete democratic transition when domestic institutions are weak, elites have a strong incentive to play the nationalist card in public debates and discourse, taking advantage of their domination over key news media. For example, Alfred Hugenberg, a board member of Krupp Steel who was also the head of Weimar Germany’s largest nationalist party, owned the wire service that supplied most of the news to many of Germany’s smaller cities and towns. Hugenberg’s partial monopoly fed a steady diet of slanted news to these areas, precisely the ones that voted heavily for Adolf Hitler.21

Sometimes autocratic ruling elites retain control of economic assets and special-ized information that creates a partial media monopoly. As Yugoslavia disintegrated, for example, its central leadership had no control over what was broadcast on television because an earlier decentralization had given media jurisdiction to Serbia, Croatia, and the other ethnically defi ned republics. This allowed Milosevic, who was Serbia’s local party boss, to assert virtually complete control over television news in Belgrade. He used the news to present an infl ammatory picture of Albanian threats to Serbian interests in Kosovo, a tack that Franjo Tudjman also took in Zagreb.22 In other cases, it may be newly rising elites who achieve partial media monopolies. Increases in education and literacy among disadvantaged minorities frequently stimulate demands for news media in their vernacular language. State-wide media, in which multiple groups debate ideas in a shared language, give way


to various local media outlets that are controlled by one linguistic or ethno-religious faction, that pander to their narrow target groups, and that are linguistically immune from scrutiny and rebuttal from outsiders.23

When certain groups succeed in structuring political participation around nationalist issues, competing groups have an incentive to try to outfl ank the nation-al ists. Frequently, this produces a mass bidding war for the mantle of elite nationalism. Otto von Bismarck and his successors who managed the coalition of iron and rye, for example, used nationalism to win elections that kept conservative elites in power, even though they wanted to avoid nationalist wars. Such confl icts, they feared, would destabilize the old order. The elites leading the German army similarly resisted incorporating the middle classes in the offi cer corps, fearing that doing so would threaten their dominant position in society. Germany repeatedly shied away from resorting to the sword in the overseas crises that its belligerence provoked. Middle-class nationalists, however, exploited Germany’s unwillingness to use force abroad, arguing that if threats to the country’s survival were as severe as existing elites claimed, then the iron-and-rye regime had done a poor job of parrying them and existing elites should stand aside and let the vigorous middle class run the state, its army, and its diplomacy.24

In sum, then, absent strong state institutions, prospective leaders in a country undergoing an incomplete democratic transition struggle for legitimacy in an ill-defi ned, contested political arena. Nationalism offers a means to rally popular support without actually offering accountability the newly mobilized mass public. Under these circumstances, war sometimes occurs as a direct result of nationalist political objectives, such as the aim of regaining a lost territory. War, however, may also occur as an indirect result of the complex politics that mark transitional states. It may be an unintended by-product of belligerent and untrustworthy diplomacy that provokes fear in other countries. The rhetoric that nationalists use to mobilize the public may increase the risk of war by distorting the nation’s view of whether it could win the fi ght or reach a satisfactory compromise with the enemy. Further, leaders may become hostage to their rhetoric, their reputations tied to nationalist commitments from which they cannot afford to deviate. Heterogeneous political coalitions may become stuck with reckless foreign policies when uncompromising nationalism is the glue that binds them together. Hence, while nationalistic leaders and publics in incomplete democracies often do not want war, it often occurs nonetheless as an indirect by-product of nationalist politics.

Russia’s wars in Chechnya

Since the focus of this volume is Russian relations with members of NATO, it is useful to briefl y consider how our argument helps to explain Moscow’s behavior in the realm of security affairs. Weakened by the developments that precipitated the collapse of the Soviet Union, Russia has not engaged in military adventures beyond what were the Soviet Union’s borders. However, it has intervened mili-tarily in the civil war between Georgia and Georgia’s separatist Abkhazian region. Moreover, as we mentioned earlier, Russia has fought two wars in Chechnya. In


part, Russian leaders waged these wars to address the political dynamics accom-panying the turbulent, incomplete democratization that Russia experienced during the 1990s.

President Boris Yeltsin launched the First Chechen War (1994–96) during a period when the party of nationalist anti-Semite Vladimir Zhirinovsky had just won a quarter of the seats in a Duma election and polls indicated that almost three quarters of the population were unhappy with Yeltsin’s performance. Yeltsin seems to have cracked down on the Chechen independence movement as a means to boost his standing and break the political deadlock created by incomplete democratization. Indeed, Michael McFaul has argued that “Yeltsin did not order his troops into Chechnya to save the Russian Federation. He moved against Chechnya to save his presidency.”25

Although this interpretation of the First Chechen War might be considered controversial, there is little doubt that Putin mounted the Second Chechen War in 1999 to enhance his popularity enough to succeed Yeltsin as president. The strategy worked as planned, largely because Russia sustained fewer casualties than in the fi rst war and the elections were held before it became clear that the invasion had not suppressed Chechen resistance.26

The Chechen confl icts illustrate a number of the causal mechanisms that we have emphasized, especially the tendency for leaders in incompletely democratizing regimes to gamble for resurrection, launch nationalist bidding wars, and use nationalist prestige strategies to govern when domestic institutions are weak. As McFaul argues, however, democratization in a turbulent great power could have generated a far more dangerous outcome than these two wars. Such an outcome has not come to pass, he maintains, because Russia’s elites and economic oligarchs have a strong interest in maintaining stable economic relations with the West and no interest in jeopardizing their hold on power by promoting mass nationalism.27

Although Russian institutions were weak during the 1990s, the relatively scant mass mobilization and demand for mass participation limited the pressure that was placed on these institutions and thus contained the dangers of democratization.

Democratization and the democratic peace

We have argued that incomplete democratization increases the danger of war when political institutions are weak. Yet it is widely recognized that war has never happened between mature democracies. In our view, mature democracies behave differently than countries in the initial stages of democratization because they have institutions that are better able to ensure democratic accountability, thereby reducing the ability of elites to galvanize support through the use of bellicose nationalist rhetoric. Understanding these institutional underpinnings of the democratic peace sheds some additional light on the relationship between democratization and war.

Existing studies offer three primary explanations for the democratic peace. First, many observers attribute the democratic peace to democratic institutions that render the government accountable to voters who bear the costs and risks of war. As the


philosopher Immanuel Kant famously argued, kings could pass along the costs of war to their powerless subjects, but elected offi cials would suffer at the polls if they dragged their citizens into harmful wars. Consequently, elected governments are more prudent in their decisions to use force: they do not fi ght each other and are in general more adept at avoiding unsuccessful, costly wars.28

In contrast, states that are only partially democratic do not exhibit the same degree of prudence and cost-consciousness.29 Resorting to the sword during the initial phase of a democratic transition often proves to be particularly expensive. For example, Serbians paid a heavy price for the nationalist wars that Serbia waged during its experiment with partially democratic elections in the late 1980s and early 1990s. Likewise, although democratizing Armenia defeated Azerbaijan in its early 1990s war over Nagorno-Karabakh, it suffered economic ruin, a despoiled environment, and massive emigration in the process.30

In general, the public does not start the process of democratization desiring war or domination over other nations. Rather, widespread nationalist belligerence arises later, due to the political dynamics that mark the early stages of democratization and that frustrate – rather than empower – the prudent preferences of the median voter. Whereas the well-developed institutions in mature democracies ensure that elites will be held accountable to cost-conscious voters, incomplete democratization in states with weak political institutions does not. For reasons that we touched on earlier, both rising and declining elites in incompletely democratizing states are likely to use nationalist appeals to attract mass allies and to gain the legitimacy needed to rule. The use of such rhetoric increases public bellicosity and decreases sensitivity to the costs of war.

Second, other observers attribute the democratic peace to shared norms and a common liberal identity that governs behavior among democracies.31 This explanation suggests that democratizing states might be warlike because they have not yet developed strong liberal norms. However, these normative claims do not resolve the issue of why democratizing states are war-prone. Our research reveals that states undergoing incomplete democratic transitions in the face of weak domestic institutions are more likely to become embroiled in confl ict than any other type of regime, including authoritarian regimes, which should be even less constrained by democratic norms.32 It is not enough to show why voters in democratizing states are slow to become participants in the democratic peace; we need to explain why they are actually drawn away from it, and are especially attracted to ideas that promote belligerence. Addressing that question requires focusing on institutions, not just norms.

Third, some explanations of the democratic peace emphasize that democracies are not inherently pacifi c, but that they are better able to credibly signal their intentions to foreign governments. Voters will punish democratic leaders if they back down after making threats to adversaries. Foreign leaders understand this and believe that democratic heads of state will make only those threats that they intend to carry out. That a democracy is more politically transparent than other regimes reduces the prospect that its leaders will bluff or renege on international agreements. Democracies are therefore better able to conclude and


stick to bargains.33 As long as participants in an international crisis prefer some outcome to war, the transparency of democracies should enable decision makers to resolve disputes before they escalate. There should be little guesswork about which participant has greater resolve, leading democracies to strike a bargain that avoids the costs of fi ghting.

Of course, this explanation hinges partly on the preferences of democratic lead-ers: it would break down in the face of leaders who are willing to gamble everything on global domination and who view no long-term compromise as preferable to war. Equally, the credibility of democratic commitments can be a double-edged sword. In 1941, for example, the United States imposed an oil and steel embargo on Japan. The embargo was so credible that Japan’s government decided it had no choice but to launch a war as quickly as possible, while it still had some chance of victory.34

Democracy goes only so far in making a state transparent and transparency goes only so far in dampening disputes. As such, we doubt that the democratic peace rests principally on transparency and credibility in bargaining. The ability of democracies to bargain effectively may help to explain why they are able successfully reconcile their differences, but a full explanation rests on institutionalized accountability to the cost-conscious median voter. Furthermore, it is possible that the domestic politics of democratizing states – especially the instability of political coalitions – inhibits their ability to send clear, credible threats and promises that avert war. However, this problem is best understood as one feature in a broader spectrum of political dilemmas that confound the diplomacy of democratizing states.

In sum, it is unlikely that voters in democratizing states have more interest in a belligerent foreign policy than their counterparts in mature democracies. Instead, it is likely that voters in both types of regimes seek effi cient, prudent solutions to political dilemmas. The public in newly democratizing states often becomes belligerent with respect to foreign policy, not because of the unsettled boundaries of new states or pre-existing nationalist preferences, but rather because of deformations in the institutional and informational environments that form and aggregate preferences in these states.

Conclusions

Democratic transitions that do not follow an auspicious sequence run the risk of becoming derailed prior to the establishment of consolidated democracy. They also risk triggering intense nationalism and war when a country’s political institutions are especially weak at the outset of the transition and when elites are threatened by the regime change.

Our argument has prescriptive implications in those cases where policymakers have some ability to infl uence the timing and sequencing of a transition.35 Where the institutional requisites for consolidated democracy do not exist, it is best to develop them before encouraging mass political contestation. In cases where powerful elites are threatened by democratization, it is best to find ways of convincing them that they will be treated fairly by the future democratic regime.


Transitions do not necessarily have to proceed slowly, but they need to be built on sound foundations and to neutralize potential spoilers in society.36

These prescriptions are important for both the short run and the long run. In the short run, transitions that ignore them risk stalling and degenerating into nation alist politics that increase the specter of war. Over the long run, a failed and violent transition may leave a legacy of nationalist ideology, militarized institu-tions, anti-democratic rules, and foreign enmities that will hinder future efforts to forge democracy and raise the risk of violence during subsequent attempts at democratization.

Notes

1 This paper draws heavily on Edward D. Mansfi eld and Jack Snyder, Electing to Fight: Why Emerging Democracies Go to War (Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2005).

2 See, for example, Bruce Russett, Grasping the Democratic Peace (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1993).

3 See, for example, President Bill Clinton’s 1994 State of the Union Address, “Transcript of Clinton’s Address,” New York Times, 26 January 1994, p. A17; and Bruce Russett and John R. Oneal, Triangulating Peace: Democracy, Interdependence, and International Organizations (New York: Norton, 2001).

4 Susan Woodward, Balkan Tragedy (Washington, D.C.: The Brookings Institution, 1995), p. 17.

5 Stuart Kaufman, Modern Hatreds: The Symbolic Politics of Ethnic War (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 2001), chap. 3.

6 David R. Mares, Violent Peace: Militarized Interstate Bargaining in Latin America(New York: Columbia University Press, 2001), chap. 7.

7 Tekeste Negash and Kjetil Tronvoll, Brothers at War: Making Sense of the Eritrean–Ethiopian War (Oxford: James Currey, 2000).

8 See Ian Talbot, India and Pakistan (London: Arnold, 2000), p. 275; and Hasan-Askari Rizvi, Military, State and Society in Pakistan (New York: St Martin’s, 2000), chap. 10.

9 Gérard Prunier, The Rwanda Crisis: History of a Genocide (New York: Columbia University Press, 1995) chaps. 3 & 5.

10 Samuel P. Huntington, Political Order in Changing Societies (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1968).

11 See Edward D. Mansfi eld and Jack Snyder, “Democratic Transitions and War: From Napoleon to the Millennium’s End,” in Chester A. Crocker, Fen Osler Hampson, and Pamela Aall, eds., Turbulent Peace: The Challenges of Managing International Confl ict(Washington, D.C.: United States Institute of Peace Press, 2001), pp. 113–26.

12 Michael Mann, “The Emergence of Modern European Nationalism,” in John A. Hall and Ian Jarvie, eds., Transition to Modernity (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992), pp. 137–66.

13 Huntington, Political Order in Changing Societies. 14 Huntington, Political Order in Changing Societies, chap. 4.


15 Eckart Kehr, Economic Interest, Militarism, and Foreign Policy (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1977); and Jack Snyder, Myths of Empire: Domestic Politics and International Ambition (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1991), chap. 3.

16 Brett Fairbairn, Democracy in the Undemocratic State: The German Reichstag Elections of 1898 and 1903 (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1997), p. 48.

17 Beverly Heckart, From Bassermann to Bebel: The Grand Bloc’s Quest for Reform in the Kaiserreich, 1900–1914 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1974); and Snyder, Myths of Empire, chap. 3.

18 Gerhard Ritter, The Sword and the Sceptre: The Problem of Militarization in Germany(Coral Gables, FL: University of Miami Press, 1969), vol. 2, pp. 257–63.

19 Huntington, Political Order in Changing Societies, chap. 1. 20 Robert A. Dahl, Polyarchy: Participation and Opposition (New Haven: Yale University

Press, 1971), p. 44. 21 Modris Eksteins, The Limits of Reason: The German Democratic Press and the Collapse

of Weimar Germany (London: Oxford University Press, 1975), pp. 78–81. 22 Mark Thompson, Forging War: The Media in Serbia, Croatia, and Bosnia-Herzegovina

(London: Article 19, International Center Against Censorship), May 1994. 23 Jack Snyder, From Voting to Violence: Democratization and Nationalist Confl ict (New

York: Norton, 2000), pp. 294–5. 24 Geoff Eley, Reshaping the German Right (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1980),

pp. 322–4. 25 Michael McFaul, “Eurasia Letter: Politics after Chechnya,” Foreign Policy, No. 99

(Summer 1995), p. 110; and Snyder, From Voting to Violence, p. 236. 26 On the initial popularity of the war, see Daniel Treisman, “Russia Renewed,” Foreign

Affairs, Vol. 81, No. 6 (November–December 2002), p. 70. 27 Michael McFaul, “A Precarious Peace: Domestic Politics in the Making of Russian

Foreign Policy,” International Security, Vol. 22, No. 3 (Winter 1997–98), pp. 5–35. 28 D. Scott Bennett and Allan C. Stam, “The Declining Advantages of Democracy: A

Combined Model of War Outcomes and Duration,” Journal of Confl ict Resolution, Vol. 42, No. 3 (June 1998), pp. 344–66; David Lake, “Powerful Pacifi sts: Democratic States and War,” American Political Science Review, Vol. 86, No. 1 (March 1992), pp. 24–37; Dan Reiter and Allan C. Stam, Democracies at War (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2002); and Randolph Siverson, “Democracies and War Participation: In Defense of the Institutional Constraints Argument,” European Journal of International Relations,Vol. 1, No. 4 (December 1995), pp. 481–9.

29 H. E. Goemans, War and Punishment: The Causes of War Termination and the First World War (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2000), chap. 3; and Reiter and Stam, Democracies at War.

30 Snyder, From Voting to Violence, p. 221. 31 See Michael Doyle, “Liberalism and World Politics,” American Political Science

Review, Vol. 80, No. 4 (December 1986), pp. 1151–69; and John M. Owen, LiberalPeace, Liberal War (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1997).

32 Mansfi eld and Snyder, Electing to Fight, chaps. 5 & 6. 33 See James Fearon, “Domestic Political Audiences and the Escalation of International

Disputes,” American Political Science Review, Vol. 88, No. 3 (September 1994),


pp. 577–92; Kenneth A. Schultz, “Do Democratic Institutions Constrain or Inform? Contrasting Two Institutional Perspectives on Democracy and War,” International Organization, Vol. 53, No. 2 (Spring 1999), pp. 233–66; G. John Ikenberry, After Victory: Institutions, Strategic Restraints, and the Rebuilding of Order After Major Wars (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2001); and Charles Lipson, Reliable Partners: How Democracies Have Made a Separate Peace (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2003). For a qualifi cation, see Anne Sartori, “The Might of the Pen: A Reputational Theory of Communication in International Disputes,” InternationalOrganization, Vol. 56, No. 1 (Winter 2002), pp. 121–49.

34 Michael Barnhart, Japan Prepares for Total War (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1987), pp. 170–1, 240.

35 See also Edward D. Mansfi eld and Jack Snyder, “Prone to Violence: The Paradox of the Democratic Peace,” The National Interest, No. 82 (Winter 2005–06), pp. 39–45.

36 Nancy Bermeo, “Myths of Moderation: Confrontation and Confl ict During Democracy Transition,” in Lisa Anderson, ed., Transitions to Democracy (New York: Columbia University Press, 1999), pp. 120–40; and Stephen John Stedman, “Spoiler Problems in Peace Processes,” International Security, Vol. 22, No. 2 (Fall 1997), pp. 5–53.

2 Post-postcommunist Russia, the international environment and NATO

Timothy J. Colton

The transformation of the Soviet Union and of its moribund communist regime got underway two decades ago. Mikhail Gorbachev’s attempt to give state socialism a human face was in full fl ower three or four years after that, ran aground, and was consigned to the ash heap a decade and a half ago. Boris Yeltsin, the orthodox provincial communist who became in turn a heterodox reform communist, an anticommunist, and then a post-communist, ruled Russia as its elected president for the better part of a decade. The post-communist era in the history of the Russian Federation and the other successor states to the Soviet Union is drawing to a close, or in any case has entered a qualitatively new phase. Crucial choices about politi-cal regime and the organization of public and private life have been worried over, made, and, in most cases, confi rmed. New international alignments are either in place or coming into sight. The ripening sense that this is so makes the issue of the relationship of the new Russia to NATO especially timely. It behooves us in the Euro-Atlantic alliance and the established democracies to review and update our policy options. When it comes to post-postcommunist Russia, those options are not at all obvious in the discovery or simple in the execution.

The first revelation of a reality check about contemporary Russia and its Eurasian neighbors is that the experience and governing arrangements of the societies located there are multifaceted and diverse, and ever more so with every passing year. Even in the late 1990s one might have stood by the notion that these places were defi ned above all by a common Soviet and communist provenance and by a unidimensional and linear “transition” out of that past to the good things of political democracy, a market economy and civil society. There is still much to be gained from alertness to commonalities across the countries of the region, and without question a residue of shared experiences, during and prior to the twentieth century, remains. Today, nonetheless, one is struck no less by the diversity of their experience and by the role of background, formative, and driving forces that in years past were of little or no signifi cance in the area.

On the political front alone, in the former Soviet Union we witness the yawning gap between states that satisfy most defi ning criteria of democracy (the three Baltic countries, in particular) and those that satisfy none (in Central Asia, in particular). The recent trajectory of Russia, the most closely watched state in the set, has been disappointing and puzzling. In the standard taxonomy of Freedom House, it

26 T.J. Colton

progressed under Gorbachev and Yeltsin from “Not free” status (dictatorship) to a “Partly free” condition (imperfectly democratic). Only then, far from graduating into the “Free” category (democracy), as the optimists foresaw, it began to slide backward in the second half of the 1990s, and more emphatically in the fi rst half of the 2000s. In Freedom House’s 2005 report, covering developments up to the end of year 2004, Russia, for the fi rst time since it was an integral part of the Soviet Union, tumbled discouragingly back into Freedom House’s “Not free” category. There it remained stuck in the 2006 and 2007 reports. Post-Orange Revolution Ukraine, by contrast, was upgraded from “Partly free” to “Free” on the 2006 Freedom House grade sheet.

One may argue the fine points of measurement, and ask, as I would ask, whether Vladimir Putin’s Russia fully merits the unsavory company of Aleksandr Lukashenko’s Belarus, Gurbanguli Berdymukhamedov’s Turkmenistan, and Islam Karimov’s Uzbekistan. That said, and with due allowance for all the nuances and qualifi cations, few will dispute the illiberal and undemocratic trend. It can be documented in domain after domain. An incomplete list of manifestations would include the tightening of governmental controls over the mass media; the abridgment of competition among political parties; limits on the independence of non-governmental organizations; the use of politicized justice to quell actual or potential opposition; and recentralization of the federal system.

So far as driving forces are concerned, some of the mainstays of the tumultuous 1990s remain determinative in today’s Russia (uncertainty over ultimate destination, mass and elite divisions over fundamental values, inter-ethnic and center-periphery confl ict, and corruption, for instance); while others have lost all or much of their bite (notably, economic contraction, fi scal crisis, the pervasive weakness of the state, and the exaggerated infl uence of “the oligarchs”). Meanwhile, new moving forces, largely unanticipated and not yet fully understood there or here, impinge on political actors and help shape public choices. Prime examples of insurgent factors would be Russia’s post-1998 economic boom and the soaring oil prices that have fueled it, radicalized and politicized Islam, terrorism, re-entry of the secret services into high politics and the cementing of their centrality to Russia’s “deep state,”1 demographic decline, lightly regulated immigration from other post-Soviet countries, and xenophobia toward resident foreigners and minorities. Divergent within-country trends, combined with the differential impact of region-wide and world-systemic tendencies and with calculating, innovative decisions by political leaders, have produced an ever-wider scatter of foreign-policy outcomes in the post-Soviet space. Georgia’s emphatic and Ukraine’s hesitant shift toward integration with Europe point one way. Karimov’s ejection of American forces from Uzbekistan, re-embrace of Moscow, and ostracism by the EU for human-rights offenses point for now in another direction. Russia, meanwhile, wobbles and mystifi es.

Although its revamped political arrangements lie somewhere in the gray zone bounded by fuzzy terms like “managed democracy,” “soft authoritarianism,” and “competitive authoritarianism,” things have not reached the point where the preferences of the Russian population do not matter at all for domestic and foreign

Post-postcommunist Russia 27

policy. We should be alert to the distinct possibility that, if present trends continue, it will come to this tipping point at some time. We are not there yet. At a minimum, what the Russian population perceives, thinks, and desires is still pertinent to state decisions. Putin’s Kremlin invested heavily in public relations and in public opinion polling and monitoring. And the persistence of electoral mechanisms and of signifi cant elements of political pluralism and competition continues to oblige the ruling group to mount and manage periodic electoral contests. One very signifi cant electoral round at the national level has just occurred. In December 2007 Russians elected a State Duma controlled by the pro-Putin and pro-Kremlin United Russia party; in March 2008 they overwhelmingly confi rmed Putin’s choice of his protégé, Dmitrii Medvedev, as his presidential successor.

So what do Russians want? As illustrative evidence, I adduce in Table 1 sum-maries of responses to four opinion questions put to a sample of the electorate by Henry Hale, Michael McFaul, myself, and Russian research partners in 2003–04, after that winter’s election to the Duma. The loyalist United Russia party won a plurality of the popular vote, and a two-thirds majority of the party-list and district seats, in that election; several months later, Putin, building on the United Russia base and on his extraordinary personal popularity, effortlessly won re-election to his second presidential term.

The vista we behold here is rather complex. On economic reform, about one Russian in four preferred in 2003–04 to revive state ownership and central plan-ning, along Soviet lines; and yet, a slight majority of all respondents wanted not to reverse or freeze market reforms but to “continue and deepen” them. On treat-ment of the so-called oligarchs, the magnates who benefi ted from Yeltsinesque privatization in the 1990s, substantial minorities several months after the arrest of the oil mogul Mikhail Khodorkovsky favored harshly punitive strategies (imprisonment and/or confi scation of their ill-gotten gains); a plurality favored the moderate remedy of requiring the oligarchs to pay higher taxes. On the third domestic controversy, the war in Chechnya, where the question was phrased in binary terms, Russians overall preferred a strategy of negotiations to one relying on military force. The fourth question was about relations with the West. Here the most popular option by a long shot was to consider the West as an ally as opposed to an enemy, a rival, or a friend.

What this snapshot suggests is that, to an extent that may surprise some observers, Russian domestic opinion midway through the Putin era could not be categorized as uniformly reactionary or even conservative. There was heterogeneity in mass attitudes on all four of the questions selected. And on all four questions a majority or a large plurality expressed a preference for a reformist, moderate, or West-friendly stance.

How do these opinions stack up with the actual behavior of the Russian state under Putin? Arguably, there is quite a bit of congruence on the two pieces of economic policy. With respect to taxation, macroeconomics, and small and medium business, Putin’s government has been a steadier reformer than Yeltsin’s. Toward the big-business elite, the offi cial line since 2003 has been selectively punitive, prosecuting Khodorkovsky and Yukos while leaving most other benefi ciaries of

28 T.J. Colton

Table 1 Russian mass preferences on major policy issues, winter 2003–04a

Issue and position Percent

Economic reformb

Return to socialist economy 25Leave things as are 12Continue and deepen market reforms 53Don’t know 10

The oligarchsc

Throw in prison 17Confi scate property 29Force to pay higher taxes 45Leave alone 4Don’t know 5

Strategy for Chechnyad

Force 37Negotiations 55Don’t know 8

How Russia should relate to the West e

As an enemy 2As a rival 18As an ally 62As a friend 14Don’t know 4

Notesa From survey of eligible Russian voters in the weeks following the State Duma election of 14

December 2004. N = 1,648 weighted cases. The survey work was funded by the National Science Foundation.

b Question reads: “There are various opinions about the market reforms that are being carried out in our country. What do you think, is it necessary to return to the socialist economy, to leave everything essentially as it is now, or to continue and deepen market reforms?”

c Question reads: “There has been a lot of talk recently about the results of privatization in Russia and especially of what to do with the so-called oligarchs and other rich persons who became wealthy as a result of the privatization of the 1990s. What in general is your point of view on this problem and of what needs to be done about the oligarchs? Should [we] let the oligarchs keep everything they have, let the oligarchs keep their property but force them to pay higher taxes, take away everything the oligarchs got as a result of privatization, or take away everything the oligarchs got as a result of privatization and throw them in prison?” Responses given here and in Table 2 in reverse order.

d Question reads: “To resolve the problem of Chechnya, do you think it is necessary to use primarily force or negotiations?”

e Question reads: “There are various opinions about what relations should be like between Russia and the West … Should Russia relate to the West as to an enemy, a rival, an ally, or a friend?”

the Roaring Nineties untouched in the enjoyment of their wealth and only lightly impeded in the pursuit of its increase. The marked reversion to public ownership in the oil and gas sector, the one that overshadows all others in output and trade revenues, draws on the anti-oligarchs animus and Russian nationalism, without yet going so far as to tilt the overall economic balance back toward state domination. On the Second Chechen War, what with the fairly even split in opinion in 2003–04,


no policy would have won the approval of all. Of the two main options, fi ght or talk, Putin favored the former, which happens to have had less mass support than the latter, and had considerable success after the Beslan hostages catastrophe in September 2004 in isolating the remnants of the anti-Moscow guerrilla forces and grinding them down militarily. Even here, the president has made a gesture toward negotiationist sentiment in Russia as a whole and locally in Chechnya by author-izing the creation of indigenous, formally elected, and semi-autonomous political institutions and of Grozny-controlled militias and death squads to prosecute the crackdown on the rebels. In relations with the West, Putin’s policy was more of a cipher and the fi t with popular opinion is more problematic. While pursuing adver-sarial relations with the United States and the Western countries on some scores, Russia’s second president always balanced these actions with accommodative responses on other scores and its third president is likely to do the same.

It would be useful to know whether Russians’ discrete opinions on the economy, the oligarchs, Chechnya and internal order, and foreign relations are mutually rein forc ing or disconnected. It would be helpful also to see how opinion cleav-ages relate to salient features of the country’s changing social structure. Table 2, based on the same opinion questions as Table 1, furnishes some evidence on both those scores.

One message of the correlations reported in Table 2 is that there have indeed been interconnections among Russians’ issue opinions, but only across some of the issues, not all. The preference for a deepening of economic reform was associated in 2003–04 with a relatively lenient line on the oligarchs. But economic reformism had no connection whatever with opinions on Chechnya, and anti-oligarch sentiment had only a minor connection. Pro-Western attitudes in foreign policy were associated with economic reformism and with tolerance of the oligarchs, but not in a powerful way.

Most interesting is the story vis-à-vis the two social-structural features included in the analysis – education, which can be used as a proxy for socioeconomic status, and chronological age, which studies of Russian politics under Yeltsin found to be

Table 2 Correlation matrix for issue preferences, education, and age groupa

Variable Econ reform Oligarchs Chechnya West Education

Econ reformOligarchs .36*Chechnya .00 .08*West .07* .115* .12*Education .30* .28* –.00 –.04Age group –.28* –.23* .165* –.05 –.24*

Notes* p .01a Pearson’s r. From the same survey as Table 1. Opinion indicators are the ordinal categories given in

the responses in Table 1, with “Don’t know” cases excluded pair-wise. The educational categories are none or elementary, incomplete secondary, secondary, secondary specialized, incomplete higher, and higher. The age categories are 29 and younger, 30 to 39, 40 to 49, 50 to 59, 60 to 69, and 70 and older.

30 T.J. Colton

the most potent axis of cleavage within the mass public. As modernization theory would predict, better-educated and higher-status citizens of Russia are apt to have more progressive opinions on economic issues, and the more poorly educated to have more statist and egalitarian opinions. As might have been predicted by differing socialization and lifetime experiences within the population, a similar association holds for the age variable: younger Russians tend to have more market-oriented views on the economy and older Russians tend to have more socialistic views. Toward Chechnya, however, we see no relationship between a pro-negotiation stance and education level, and the relationship with biological generation is exactly the reverse of what we observe on economic policy. That is, the younger Russians were in 2003–04, the more likely they were to be hawks on Chechnya, and the older they were, the more likely to be doves.2 When it comes to foreign policy, there is no relationship to speak of between policy preference and either education or age group.

The age variable is the more gripping of the two social variables, owing to its longitudinal implications. Given natural turnover in the population and the succession of human generations, the clock would seem to be working gradually for acceptance of economic and socioeconomic change, against a more humane settlement of the Chechnya and similar issues, and neither for nor against pursuing accommodating relations with the countries of the West. It follows that, looking across the full spectrum of issues, popular opinion in post-postcommunist Russia cannot easily be mapped onto familiar liberal-conservative, left-right, or, if you prefer, Westernizer-Slavophile continua. It is messier than that.

In making note of the fi t between some aspects of state behavior and some currents in public opinion, I do not mean to imply that government policy has been motivated solely or even mostly by public opinion or the wish to appease it. It is fair to say, though, that in certain regards public opinion in post-postcommunist Russia continues to have varying degrees of autonomy from, and impact on, the state. A recent example from domestic politics would be the inhospitable reaction of pensioners to government attempts to monetize social-assistance payments in the winter of 2004–05, a reaction that spilled over into the streets of Russian cities and forced the government to modify its monetization plan. A good example from the national-security realm would be popular sentiment on military manpower. To accommodate mass and especially middle-class resistance to conscription, Putin and his former defense minister Sergei Ivanov have decreed a reduction of the draft term to twelve months by the year 2008. In some other essential regards – and Russia is hardly unique here – governing elites take the lead in shaping public preferences and exploiting them for political advantage. In doing so, a precondition of success has been has been mass-media manipulation of, and in some instances the outright manufacture of, critical events. Critical events since the rise of Putin take in the acts of violence in and surrounding the North Caucasus, the arrest of Mikhail Khodorkovsky, and, outside the country, the attacks of September 11, 2001, and the American invasion of Iraq.

In thinking of Russia and the international environment in the near-term and middle-term future, it is best to weigh leaders, bureaucrats, and the deep state


more heavily than the composition of preference at the social grassroots. In foreign policy, mass opinion in Russia’s managed democracy/soft authoritarianism fi gures into elite calculations principally as a constraint on government initiative rather than as a source of steady input. The constraint on policymakers from below is looser here than it is in many realms of domestic policy, if for no other reason than the mass public pays much less attention to international events and imputes much less salience to foreign-policy issues than to domestic issues. Elite opinion can be expected to make the most impact on policy outputs when it is reinforced by mass opinion. In Russia, there is some spread between elite and mass prefer-ences on foreign policy, as we shall see, but an anti-Western trend is noticeable for both.

To penetrate beneath the surface of Russian attitudes either at the mass base or in elite circles is to uncover considerable ambiguity in these attitudes. What does being an “ally” of the West mean in practise? President Putin seldom uses the word. Instead, he is a great fan of the word partnër, “partner,” rather than soyuznik, the term we used in our 2003–04 electoral survey for “ally.” Soyuznikconnotes a formal and binding understanding with clear specifi cation of the rights and duties of the participants. An alliance relationship is necessarily a selective if not an exclusive one. Partnër signifi es a more informal, a more contingent and discretionary, and a less exclusive relationship. In most constructions of the term, partnerships can be in relation to a variety of specifi c goals and can multiply without logical limit. And, in some constructions, partnership has room for competition as well as cooperation.

For Yeltsin and his associates, foreign policy was fi rst and foremost an act of realistic acquiescence in the West’s superior power resources, necessitated by Russia’s military and political disarray and especially by its extreme economic weakness. With Andrei Kozyrev as foreign minister until 1996, if not as much in later years, partnërstvo also implied an eagerness to enrich the relationship with the Western nations and at least a willingness to entertain eventual merger of Russia into the partner’s community. Much has changed, because of cultural trends, a delayed response to the dismantling of the Soviet Union, a backlash against the perceived excesses and failures on Yeltsin’s watch, and – last but not least – a reaction against Western and particularly American actions on a host of foreign-policy issues, from the occupation of Iraq to arms control and entry into the World Trade Organization (WTO). The point of convergence for the most profound Russian resentments and fears since Yeltsin yielded to Putin in 1999–2000 is what is seen as Western plotting to further diminish Russia’s place in the world – at the very time when the country’s economic revival under Putin has been leading many to the conviction that Russia’s place should be confi rmed and augmented. On many of these points, there is a sharp discrepancy between Russian perceptions and perceptions in the non-Russian states of the area, one that goes back to the fundamental difference between metropole and periphery in the preceding, imperial arrangement.

In my conversations in Moscow, where I visit several times a year, I have recently heard great cynicism about Western motives in the security domain. This

32 T.J. Colton

is especially striking in relation to trends in Russia’s “Near Abroad,” the former Soviet republics that rim it to the west and south. One can look far and wide for a single Russian who will accept at face value almost any component of the case for NATO enlargement or who doubts that the United States and the EU possess and are acting on a blueprint for further diminishing or, as many would now say, eliminating Russian infl uence in the post-Soviet space. It is thus in Russia’s immediate neighborhood that anti-Western sentiments have focused in the opening years of the new century, and it is here, on the borderline between domestic and international affairs, that they will continue to focus.

The decision of the mid-1990s to expand NATO to the east, into the territories of the defunct Soviet bloc, was publicly justifi ed by its architects primarily as a formula for bringing about stability in post-communist Eastern and Central Europe. But the policy, executed despite the Yeltsin administration’s indignant opposition, served two other goals as well, although they were rarely articulated as bluntly as the fi rst: to salve Western guilt over not having done much to help small countries as they endured decades of communist tyranny; and to contain post-communist Russia, to ensure that it could never again begin to amass the infl uence its Soviet predecessor wielded in Europe from the 1940s through the 1980s. The proponents of this policy, referring chiefl y to the fi rst of the three goals, preached that Russia’s grounds for opposing it had no objective basis, that Moscow would have no alterna tive to consenting to enlargement, and that Russian resistance to the change would mellow with the passage of time. To quote Richard C. Holbrooke, the chief advocate of Alliance enlargement within the fi rst Clinton administration, speaking to the Council on Foreign Relations in December 1996:

Russia’s objections are well known and loudly voiced. But there is no indica-tion that this is a core issue between the two countries [Russia and the United States]. This is theater of a very minor sort. It will not determine the future of Russia. It will not determine the outcome of power struggles in Russia. And it will not determine the shape of the Russian military … Private conversa-tions … indicate that while [the Russians] go through the rituals … they have to object just as they objected to Pershing [medium-range ballistic missile] deployments in the ’80s. But they will accept it and it will not pose a direct threat to Russia.3

The reasonableness of Russian opposition to NATO enlargement can be debated until we are blue in the face. It is a matter of perspective. Suffi ce it to say that the bulk of the country’s foreign-policy establishment think with well-nigh unanimity that their disapproval is eminently rational, and not a matter of pique or theater, and that their objections have always been echoed in varying degrees by dissenters within the Western Alliance. As a practical matter, Russian governments have gone along with the inevitable, as Holbrooke and others forecast a decade ago. That is, they grudgingly signed the NATO-Russia Founding Act on Mutual Relations, Cooperation and Security in 1997 and accepted as a fait accompli that year’s fi rst wave of enlargement (which added the Czech Republic, Hungary, and


Poland to the Alliance); in 2004 they reluctantly did the same for a second wave of enlargement (which incorporated Bulgaria, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Romania, Slovakia, and Slovenia).

But the key tenet in the rosy scenario painted by Holbrooke and others was the third – that whatever Russian cantankerousness there was would subside as the country got used to the idea of former satellites joining the Alliance and as it came to realize that NATO enlargement was not a genuine threat to Russia’s interests and security. It is precisely on this point that the empirical evidence most fl ies in the face of the initial assumptions and forecast. Russian attitudes toward NATO have hardened rather than softened.

Table 3 quarries data collected and posted by the Public Opinion Foundation in Moscow, a pro-government but highly professional polling fi rm directed by Aleksandr Oslon. The table tracks mass attitudes in Russia toward NATO as a bloc from 1997, shortly before the fi rst burst of enlargement into the eastern half of Europe, to the spring of 2004, at the time of the latest burst. In 1997 fewer than 40 percent of Russians regarded NATO as an “aggressive” alliance and about 25 percent regarded it as “defensive” in nature. By April 2004 the alarmists seeing NATO as an aggressive entity had risen to almost 60 percent of the population, and outnumbered the moderates who looked at it as a defensive alliance by better than three to one. The terrorist attack on New York in 2001 and the US-Russian rapprochement of the months that followed seemed to dampen anti-NATO feeling some, but it had revived and attained new heights by 2004, in all probability due to American actions in the Middle East.4 Subsequent surveys by the Public Opinion Foundation, employing differently worded survey questions, show no meaningful shift in Russian opinion on the matter since 2004.5

Table 4 adds depth to the picture by displaying responses for four opinion questions administered to respondents in April of 2004. As can be seen in the fi rst column (the upper section of which reproduces information given in Table 3), pluralities of Russians in 2004 believed that NATO and Russian interests as a rule diverge and that the enlargement of 2004 was a bad idea, while outright majorities considered NATO to be an offensive alliance and felt that the military threat to Russia had worsened as a result of the recent enlargement. The second column of Table 4 provides valuable information on elite opinion, relying on an admittedly small sample of regional administrators and media fi gures. On every dimension,

Table 3 Trend in mass attitudes toward NATO as a bloc, 1997–2004a

Nature of NATO

February1997

September2001

May2002

December2002

April2004

Aggressive 38 50 54 48 58Defensive 24 26 24 26 17Don’t know 38 24 22 26 26

Notesa From national surveys by Public Opinion Foundation, Moscow, as reported at http://bd.english.fom.

ru/report/cat/frontier/NATO/ed041629. Question reads: “Do you regard NATO as an aggressive or a defensive military bloc?”

34 T.J. Colton

Table 4 Comparison of mass and elite attitudes toward NATO, April 2004

Question Mass sample a Elite sampleb

Nature of NATOc

Aggressive 58 68Defensive 17 28Don’t know 26 4

NATO and Russian interestsd

Tend to coincide 17 33Tend to diverge 47 65Don’t know 35 2

Attitude toward 2004 enlargemente

Positive 11 18Indifferent 36 20Negative 40 60Don’t know 13 2

Military threat after enlargementf

Greater 52 63No change 24 36Don’t know 24 1

Notesa From national survey by Public Opinion Foundation, as reported at http://bd.english.fom.ru/report/

map/dominant/edominant2004/edom0415/edomt0415_1/ed041508.b From Public Opinion Foundation telephone interviews with “100 experts representing the regional

and media elite of Russia.” http://bd.english.fom.ru/report/map/dominant/edominant2004/edom0415/edomt0415_1/ed041524.

c Question same as in Table 3 above. Mass data repeats column 5 of Table 3.d Question reads: “According to one opinion, the interests of Russia and NATO are more likely to

coincide, while according to a different opinion, they are more likely to diverge. Which of these two opinions is closest to your own?”

e Question reads: “How do you feel about the fact that seven Eastern European states have joined NATO: positive, negative, or indifferent?”

f Question reads: “As a result of NATO’s expansion, do you believe the military threat to Russia has grown, or not?”

elite opinion was more hostile to NATO than mass opinion. The gap in anti-NATO attitudes between elite and mass informants ranged from10 percentage points in the case of NATO as an aggressive alliance to 20 percentage points in the case of the change in the military threat to Russia after the 2004 expansion.

Does this all mean that anti-NATO and anti-Western feeling among ordinary and policy-involved Russians has reached a threshold where accommodation with NATO and Western governments has become politically untenable? Fortunately, even the data in Tables 3 and 4 do not warrant so gloomy a conclusion. As comes out in Table 3, far from negligible minorities of the population (between 17 and 26 percent) were of the opinion between 1997 and 2004 that NATO was primarily a defensive military bloc, not an aggressive one, and anywhere from 22 to 38 percent of the population had no set opinion on the subject, and were presumably amenable to guidance by the government on it. In Table 4 we can make out a similar pattern, with about 40 percent to 60 percent of the Russian mass audience polled taking a soft line toward NATO or harboring no opinion either way. Table 4 shows, more-over, that elite members surveyed expressed both pro-NATO and anti-NATO views


in larger proportions than did members of Oslon’s mass samples. The only opinion found less frequently in the elite samples are the “Don’t know” responses.

The theoretical possibility of Russia eventually becoming a member of the NATO Alliance has been mentioned, if not actively promoted, by all American and Russian presidents to hold offi ce since the dissolution of the Soviet Union in 1991. Plumbing Russian opinion on this option is to hold it to the highest possible test concerning NATO intentions. What do citizens of the Russian Federation think about the possibility of their country joining the NATO? The most commonly found opinion at the mass level, as is plain in Table 5, is decidedly against NATO membership. A plurality of 39 percent of Russians thought NATO membership undesirable in 2001, a proportion that grew to 46 percent in May 2004, dropped back to 41 percent in December 2002, and was at 48 percent in April 2004. At no time did anti-membership feeling prevail among a majority of the population, and in two surveys (those of September 2001 and December 2002) anti-membership opinions led pro-membership opinions by fewer than 10 percentage points – and always with roughly one respondent in four having no fi xed opinion on the subject.

Inasmuch as full membership in the Alliance for Russia is not under active consideration on either side, less demanding options for cooperation between Russia and NATO are of more immediate relevance. And here, as is laid out in our last two tables, 6 and 7, the evidence from opinion surveys is a lot more encouraging. A preference for strengthening cooperation with the NATO bloc prevailed over a distaste for cooperation in fi ve consecutive surveys of the population taken between mid-1999 and the spring of 2004. Even in April 2004 – on the heels of the unwanted (by the Russians) admission to the Alliance of three former Soviet republics, three former members of the Warsaw Pact (Slovakia was half of Soviet-era Czechoslovakia), and one former Yugoslav republic – pro-cooperation forces outnumbered anti-cooperation forces by 51 percent to 22 percent. And, ironically, the proclivity for cooperation was greater in the same elite stratum where the habit of badmouthing NATO as an aggressive player is also most deeply entrenched. Ninety percent of Aleksandr Oslon’s elite-level respondents in 2004, almost twice as many as at the mass level, wanted to step up cooperation with NATO.

There are, therefore, contradictory impulses toward relations with NATO at

Table 5 Trend in mass attitudes toward Russia joining NATO, 2001–04a

Attitude toward joining September 2001 May 2002 December 2002 April 2004

Desirable and possible 24 21 25 17Desirable but impossible 10 13 10 8Undesirable and possible 22 26 23 25Undesirable and impossible 17 20 18 23Don’t know 28 20 25 28

Notesa From national surveys by Public Opinion Foundation, as reported at same source as for Table 4.

Question reads: “The issue of Russia joining NATO is often considered. Which of the following views is closest to your own? Russia’s joining NATO is …”

36 T.J. Colton

Table 6 Trend in mass attitudes toward strengthened cooperation with NATO, 1999–2004a

Attitude toward strengthening cooperation

July1999

September2001

May2002

December2002

April2004

Positive 45 58 62 56 51Negative 32 18 20 23 22Don’t know 23 24 17 22 27

Notesa From national surveys by Public Opinion Foundation, as reported at same source as for Tables 4

and 5. Question reads: “Should Russia strengthen its cooperation with NATO, or not?”

Table 7 Comparison of mass and elite attitudes toward strengthened cooperation with NATO, April 2004a

Attitude toward strengthening cooperation Mass sample Elite sample

Yes 51 90No 22 7Positive 27 3

Notesa From a national survey by Public Opinion Foundation, as reported at same source as for Table 4.

Question reads: “The issue of Russia joining NATO is often considered. Which of the following views is closest to your own? Russia’s joining NATO is …”

work in the body politic of post-postcommunist Russia. Most Russians still want cooperative ties, while most of those same Russians fi nd NATO more of a menace than they did in the past. These contradictions, and the quandary for Western policy-makers, are bound to worsen if NATO pushes ahead with plans for extending its 2004 boundaries further to the east. Mikhail Saakashvili’s Georgia has pushed hardest for an invitation, and Russia undoubtedly will fi ght such a shift until the end. But Georgia will be small potatoes compared to the massive campaign Russia is certain to wage to keep a second country on the potential candidates’ list, one far larger and far dearer to Russian hearts – Ukraine – from transferring its allegiance completely to the Western Alliance, as its president, Viktor Yushchenko, intends it to do. Polls show Russians to be extremely sensitive to even token gestures of military collaboration between Ukraine and NATO, such as the joint exercises scheduled for Crimea, but canceled, in 2006. NATO–Ukraine cooperation, to say nothing of NATO membership for Ukraine, is more repugnant to Russian citizens than NATO cooperation with Russia.6

This is not to argue for perpetuation of the status quo. I merely caution that unrefl ecting attempts to change the status quo, especially if they continue in the mold of the mechanical enlargement strategy of the 1990s, will create huge problems in our relationship with Russia. As for Russia, even without foreign-policy headaches it faces numerous domestic conundrums in the years ahead. Vladimir Putin’s constitutional second term as president of the federation expired in the spring of 2008. He succeeded in handing the baton to a designated heir,


Dmitrii Medvedev, but for the time being will hold the important offi ce of prime minister in the new government. For that and other reasons, Medvedev will at the outset rule with far less authority than his patron had. He will have his hands full with domestic problems, such as diversifying an economy more dependent than ever on exports of fuels and metals, sustaining growth, and managing a diffi cult security situation in the North Caucasus. The Kremlin ideologists are determined to handle this agenda while maintaining Russia as what has been called, since 2004, “sovereign democracy” (suverennaya demokratiya). The phrase boils down to a commitment to prevent external players from shaping Russia’s internal political environment, as happened, spokesmen for the ruling group have insisted, in the “colored revolutions” in Georgia, Ukraine, and Kyrgyzstan.

The external stimulus that most affected internal trends in post-communist countries beyond the western borders of the former Soviet Union was the prospect and then the reality of acceptance into the European Union – not into NATO. For Russia and, for all practical purposes, for Ukraine, EU admission is an impossibility for the time being. The Russian elite lacks even the aspiration to enter the EU, and thereby “Europe,” that drives many in the Ukrainian elite. This hurdle makes NATO and its expanding eastern frontier much more of a bone of contention between Russia and Western governments than if there was some other game in town.

All of which drives me to the conclusion that the United States and the NATO Alliance, having lived off of the intellectual capital of decades past, must now commit to a searching exploration of frameworks for security in Europe. Mindless extension of the policy line of the 1990s will not produce the easy gains it produced then, will make neo-containment of Russia and rollback of its infl uence more and more the focus of policy, and will intensify Russia’s political isolation. It is time to open dialogue and debate about a new structure for a new age. One way or the other, that new structure has to make room for the modern, democratic, self-confi dent, and restrained Russian state which does not yet exist but without which neither Russia nor Europe will be whole.

Notes

1 This evocative phrase seems to have originated in descriptions of Turkish politics and to have been put into international general circulation by Suleyman Demirel, president of Turkey from 1994 to 1999.

2 In raw proportions, 45 percent of survey respondents under the age of 30 preferred a military solution on Chechnya and 49 percent preferred a negotiated solution; over the age of 69, 23 percent preferred a military solution and 64 percent preferred a negotiated solution.

3 At http://www.cfr.org/publication/74/expanding_nato.html.4 The invasion of Iraq in March 2003 was not, of course, a NATO operation, but, besides

the United States and Britain, the big military players, a number of NATO members sent smaller contingents.

38 T.J. Colton

5 For example, Oslon’s researchers asked survey respondents in May 2002, April 2004, August 2005, and June 2006 whether they considered that NATO “poses a threat to Russia’s security.” Fifty-one percent in 2004 and 50 percent in 2006 said it did; 26 percent in 2004 and 25 percent in 2006 said it did; and 23 percent in 2004 and 25 percent in 2006 had no answer to the question. See the report at http://bd.english.fom.ru/report/cat/frontier/NATO/etb062310.

6 A Public Opinion Foundation poll in June 2006 found that 60 percent of Russians disapproved of joint exercises between Ukraine and NATO, 3 percent approved, and 25 percent were indifferent. Compare this to a survey by the same organization in August 2005 in which only 20 percent disapproved of recently concluded NATO-Russian war games, with 38 percent approving and 42 percent being unable to say. At http://bd.english.fom.ru/report/map/ed062312; and http://bd.english.fom.ru/report/map/etb053510.

3 Russia, NATO enlargement and the strengthening of democracy in the European space

S. Neil MacFarlane

Introduction

NATO enlargement is considered by many to be one dimension of a project to create not only a single security space, but also a single normative space – a space characterized by democratic values, respect for human rights, open economies, and durable peace. NATO is just one of a number of international institutions pursuing this shared objective, the others including the Council of Europe (CoE), the European Union (EU), and the Organization for Security and Co-operation in Europe (OSCE).

On the face of it, one might expect that both NATO enlargement and the pro-motion of democratic transformation might generate problems in the relationship with Russia. From a realist or geopolitical perspective, the expansion of the North Atlantic Alliance weakens Russia’s position in Europe. The same might be true of democracy promotion. Russia’s government and, apparently, most Russians, show little interest in the development of liberal democratic institutions and practice. Putin’s regime displays much greater interest in control and consolida-tion than in democratization. Where the latter gets in the way of the former, it is sidelined.

There are many dimensions to this pattern. The past six years have witnessed a steady effort on the part of the government to narrow the space for freedom of expression in the media. The numbers of independent outlets for news and analysis have shrunk. Those that remain have read the writing on the wall, and censor themselves. As the case of Anna Politkovskaya suggests, being off message can be hazardous. The Duma has effectively been neutralized by changes in percentages rules limiting the representation of the most critical political forces on the liberal end of the spectrum; the president has effective control of the less pluralistic legislature that has resulted. The centre has made considerable progress in reasserting control over the regions (for example, through new rules on the selection of regional governors and through the creation of “super-regions” administered by central appointees). It has also had considerable success in restoring state control over the commanding heights of the economy, particularly in the energy sector through Gazprom and Rosneft, sometimes at the expense of foreign investors.

Russian diplomats and policymakers generally react very badly to European (or

40 S.N. MacFarlane

transatlantic) efforts to project democratic norms into the Russian Federation or, for that matter, the former Soviet space minus the Baltics. The offhand rejection of external criticism of the lack of due process in the Khodorkovsky trial is an eloquent example. More recently, on the eve of the 2006 G8 Summit in Saint Petersburg, Russian offi cials warned Western offi cial representatives to steer clear of the Moscow conference of the democratic opposition, while arresting and harassing several participants in the sessions. The Russian government rebranded the confl ict in Chechnya as a counter-terrorist operation. In its prosecution of the confl ict, it has conspicuously ignored its legal obligations under the Geneva Conventions, the Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, and Council of Europe instruments, as well as its political obligations under the OSCE human dimension and its partnership agreement with the European Union.1 The message is clear; Russia’s course of action in regard to (non)democratic governance will proceed whatever outsiders might think about it.

Russia’s resistance to the effort of outsiders to engage in its internal affairs is accompanied by a robust defense of a very traditional conception of absolute sovereignty. Russian behaviour in the United Nations (UN) Security Council when matters of humanitarian intervention (or, more modestly, non-consent-based enforcement under Chapter VII of the Charter) arise suggests a profound opposition to the notion that states, in their exercise of internal sovereignty, might be bound by international humanitarian and human rights norms. Arguably, there is an emerging international normative consensus to the effect that where states are either incapable of protecting, or unwilling to protect, civilians affected by confl ict, other states and their organizations have a responsibility to do so until such time as the state in question is in a position to fulfi l its responsibilities in respect of its citizens.2 Whether or not such a norm is emerging in international society as a whole, it is clearly not part of the Russian landscape of diplomacy. The positions on intervention in Darfur taken by Russia in the UN Security Council are an eloquent illustration. Russia, along with China, has consistently resisted Security Council draft resolutions that would permit a robust UN presence in the region, or that would impose targeted sanctions on Sudanese offi cials. This resistance refl ects not only the long-standing Russian objection to intervention in the internal affairs of states on humanitarian or human rights grounds, but also, presumably, Russia’s growing economic relationship with Sudan.3

These patterns extend to Russia’s former Soviet neighbourhood as well, par-ticu larly those republics having experienced one colour or another of “democratic” revolution. The events in Georgia in 2003 and in Ukraine in 2004 were widely interpreted in the Russian Federation to be the result of Western interference, motivated by a desire to erode Russia’s position and infl uence in the region. In the case of Georgia, the Rose Revolution was followed by an escalation of Russian pressure on Georgia. In Ukraine, Russia has possibly used energy supply as an instrument to manipulate parliamentary elections. The change in government in Kyrgyzstan has been accompanied by a deliberate (and partially successful) Russian effort to reduce American military presence in the region through rapprochement with Uzbekistan.

Russia, NATO enlargement, and the strengthening of democracy 41

In short, the Russian Federation is a poster child of resistance to the democratic and human rights agenda of Europe, and, with some qualifi cation,4 of the transatlantic community. To the extent that Europe and its North American partners take such issues seriously, the account above would suggest a growing potential for confl ict in the relationship between NATO and the Russian Federation as NATO continues to enlarge, as it deepens its relations with the non-Russian successor states to the Soviet Union, and as parallel EU processes of enlargement and deepening (the neighbourhood policy and strategy, for example) evolve. The potential for such confl ict is not primarily ideational. Russian concerns over the contagion effect of the “colour revolutions” in Georgia and Ukraine have largely dissipated. Instead, it is power-political and strategic. However, the Russian leadership places a premium on maintaining the Federation’s infl uence within the former Soviet region; increasing Western political and military engagement with the non-Russian republics threatens that infl uence and contests Russia’s pre-eminence.

In exploring these themes, I look fi rst of all at emerging Russian understandings of international order. I follow with consideration of Russians’ conception of their own place in that order. I then turn to the implications of the fi rst two for Russian foreign policy, including Russia’s relations with NATO and the EU. Although Russian writers, politicians and statesmen have perspectives on all of these issues that are quite different from those of their European and transatlantic counterparts, and although these differences have generated a considerable amount of tension on specifi c issues, there seems to be little prospect of systemic confl ict setting the Russian Federation at odds with the West in general and NATO in particular. On the other hand, for reasons discussed below, there is reason for concern about the possibility of tension emerging between Russia and Western institutions over relations with the non-Russian former Soviet republics and their place in a European security architecture. Moreover, as Russia regains its strength, its government may be expected to become more active in regions such as Africa and the Arab Middle East where, for much of the past fi fteen years, Russian policy has been dormant. This may complicate the pursuit of Western interests in these regions.

The Russian understanding of world order

The Yeltsin years were a period of substantial contestation in Russian discussions on world order. The period was initially dominated by the liberal internationalist perspectives inherited from the Gorbachev years. Integration into global structures, cooperation with, and assistance from, those structures as Russia attempted to reform its economy and polity were the order of the day. The hegemony of the liberal understanding of international order characteristic of 1991–92 disappeared reasonably rapidly in the mid-1990s, as the depth of Russia’s domestic crisis, the disorder of its neighbourhood, and the limits on Western willingness to accord Russia access to and equality of status in global and regional institutions became clearer. The uncritical embrace of liberal democratic and cooperative principles in international relations was largely superseded by a discourse focusing on the distinctiveness of Russia, revolving around a Eurasian identity, and the need to

42 S.N. MacFarlane

focus on concrete Russian interests notably in the “near abroad” and to explore possibilities for balancing against the West and the United States in particular.

Multipolarity had several variants – one being the exploration of a tripartite Russia–Europe–USA balance, another being the development of strategic relations with other marginalized emerging powers (China and India, for example). This strand in Russian foreign policy also ran into problems. Among the proposed partners, Europe fairly consistently demonstrated its incapacity to act as a cohesive and effective player in international relations. China and India were unwilling to jeopardise their relations with the West to pursue a balancing strategy. Moreover, their bilateral relationship was (and is) suffi ciently strained to make them improbable partners in a global alliance of the excluded. Russia itself lacked the power to make it happen and also was unwilling to forego its own privileged place to make room for its putative allies, as was demonstrated by its posture on UN Security Council reform.

The emergence of Vladimir Putin in 1999–2000 has produced a more realistic perspective on international order. The quixotic and contradictory quality of foreign policy discourse in the Yeltsin era is largely gone. There is little remaining faith in prospects for multipolar balancing of US power and an acceptance that, Iraq notwithstanding, the current hegemonic distribution of power is likely to remain for the foreseeable future. This does not suggest an abandonment of multipolarity, but, rather, a redefi nition towards a more pragmatic variant in which Russia is likely to seek partners anywhere that mutual interests on matters of signifi cance exist. These may include partnership relations with the US and other Western states, but also (where risks are manageable) partnerships with states whose objectives are inconsistent with, or antithetical to, those of the transatlantic community. The latter is evident, for example, in Russian policy towards Iran.

At the end of the day, though, there is, for Russia, no point in challenging the United States directly on issues where the American leadership believes its vital interests are at stake. This reticence refl ects learning from experience. The effort to constrain US and NATO diplomacy with respect to Serbia at Dayton and then again concerning Kosovo went nowhere. The same was true of the Russian effort to forestall military action against Iraq in 2003. The conclusion that the Russian government appears to have come to is that it has no real capacity to restrain the US and that not much can be done (directly, anyway) to resist US initiatives. The effort to do so is potentially very costly and risks substantial humiliation. Far better to let the hegemon dig his own grave.

The fact of decline and Russia’s place in international relations

This less ambitious view of international order refl ects a reasonably realistic assessment of Russia’s place in the world. The story of the Yeltsin years is one of the steady decline in Russian power. In absolute terms, GNP shrank by approximately 50 percent. It was not until 2003 that the Russian Federation restored GDP levels to those of 1993. The relative decline is even more striking, as the United States and China grew rapidly in the same period. In 2005, Russian


GDP (at $763,720 million) was just below that of Mexico ($763,468 million), about $4000 million below that of Canada ($1,115,192 million), and roughly a third of Chinese GDP ($2,228,862 million), with the United States at $12,455,068 million.5 Russia is benefi ting from the windfall associated with rising prices for energy products. This rise has largely driven its recovery over the past six years. It may be expected to continue. But there is a long, long way to go before Russia re-enters the list of world powers.

Economic decline was accompanied by demographic decline in the 1990s and the early years of this decade, resulting from very low birth rates and increasing mortality, particularly among males. Both in some sense suggest a crisis of morale. The failure of the population to reproduce refl ected not only the hardships of economic collapse and the disappearance of social safety nets, but doubt about the future. High male morbidity is a product largely of self-harming behaviour (excessive consumption of tobacco products and alcohol). Government efforts to reverse the decline in the birth rate have had little discernible effect. At the time President Putin took offi ce, Russia’s population was estimated at 146.3 million. By 2004, it had fallen to 143.8 million, the 2004 annual growth rate being –.5%.6

If present trends continue, Russia may expect to lose 18 million people of working age over the next twenty years. Meanwhile, at the current rate of economic growth, the Russian economy will require an additional 7 million workers by 2015.7

A third important dimension of declining Russian power was the massive contraction in the Russian military and the obvious reduction in the effectiveness of its application. In the mid-1980s, NATO worried about the capacity of the USSR to break out through Central Europe to the English Channel and designed mechanisms for extended nuclear deterrence to compensate for NATO’s perceived conventional defi ciencies. The performance of the Russian Army in 1994–96 and 1999 to the present in Chechnya suggests great diffi culty in handling a local insurgency in a territory that constitutes less than 1 percent of Russia’s land area and involving an ethnic group that constitutes 2 percent of Russia’s population, and this despite the military’s apparently complete indifference to principles of proportionality and discrimination in war.

In a larger sense, Russia has witnessed huge erosion in its regional strategic position. It lost control of the Warsaw Pact buffer. The other union republics of the USSR departed. Three of them are now members of NATO; a number of others aspire to membership. The EU has also expanded into the former Soviet space, and may continue to do so in Ukraine and Moldova. NATO and NATO member states enjoy a deepening presence in a number of other former Soviet republics, extending from Georgia and Azerbaijan in the west to Kyrgyzstan in Central Asia. Russia appeared incapable not only of sustaining its infl uence in the former Soviet space, but also of preventing strategic penetration of that space by NATO and the United States. Efforts to organize the former Soviet space into a coherent regional zone of economic and security cooperation, meanwhile, failed.8

The fi nal dimension to mention here is “soft power.” In the communist era, the USSR arguably had a forceful ideological agenda to promote, and this agenda was, for much of the time, reasonably infl uential among working class parties in the

44 S.N. MacFarlane

north and anti-colonial movements and post-colonial governments in the south. Russia today has no such agenda, and consequently lacks whatever power might come from the attractiveness of Russian principles and values. The economic collapse, state weakness and policy ineffectiveness, corruption, disorder, massive criminality, and widespread misery that characterized the 1990s, hardly provided an attractive model for emulation by other states and societies in the interna tional system.

The Putin foreign policy agenda

In short, when Putin arrived in offi ce in 1999, fi rst as prime minister and then as president, he inherited a country in deep domestic crisis and one that had been ignored on every major occasion in the 1990s when it disagreed with NATO and the Western states (for example, the fi rst round of NATO enlargement, the 1995 NATO-led intervention in Bosnia, the 1998 Anglo-American bombing of Iraq, and the 1999 NATO attack on Serbia and subsequent occupation of Kosovo). The resump tion of the war in Chechnya notwithstanding, the key priority since Yeltsin’s departure has been to stop the bleeding and to turn Russia around. As Aleksei Pushkov put it, “On 26 March 2000, Vladimir Putin inherited a weak, corrupt, and paralysed country on the verge of disintegration … Putin’s strate-gic goal was to get Russia back on its feet.”9 The dimensions of this agenda are reasonably straightforward, although together they posed a daunting challenge: stabilizing Putin’s hold on power, regenerating the economy and balancing the books, consolidating executive control over the state and restoring the state’s capacity to maintain order, restoring the state’s position in the key sectors of the economy upon which recovery would be largely based, curbing the infl uence of Russia’s economic oligarchs, sorting the relationship between the executive and the legislature, reasserting central control over the country’s regions, and preventing the loss of further territory or the spread of existing insurgencies.10

The central theme in Putin’s foreign policy in his early years was, not surprisingly, the effort to create and sustain external conditions that permit domestic stabilization and recovery. As Putin put it in his fi rst presidential term, Russia’s activity in foreign affairs must “enable us to concentrate efforts and resources as far as possible on addressing the social and economic tasks of the state.”11 The parallels to earlier periods of domestic crisis, such as the aftermath of the Crimean War, and the post-Civil War new economic policy, are clear, as is that to the Gorbachev era, when an accommodating foreign policy was a logical concomitant of perestroika.

In consequence, one key theme of Russian foreign policy discourse for much of the Putin era was “partnership” – with respect to Europe, the United States, and also with China. Multipolarity in this context became a quest for managed cooperative relationships amongst the various centres of the various forms of power in the system, rather than a quasi-nineteenth century crude balancing effort.12

The understanding of Russia’s weakness, and of the necessity to get along with major players in the international system while addressing key domestic tasks, produced a nuanced view of international behaviour. Issues arising could be


divided into at least three categories. First, where there was potential disagreement between Russia and the United States in particular on issues of vital interest to the latter, it made sense to cooperate or to duck. The best examples of acquiescence are associated with the American war on terror declared after the attacks of September 11, 2001. Here, the United States made clear that it would proceed, whatever others thought. Given the systemic structure of power, there was no point in resistance, even when US responses touched upon what were deemed to be areas of strategic interest to the Russian Federation. Thus, having spent considerable time and effort in preventing military penetration of Central Asia, when the action in Afghanistan rose to the top of the US agenda in late 2001, the Russian government acquiesced, allowing the US base in Kyrgyzstan and Uzbekistan and providing intelligence assistance for the invasion of Afghanistan itself.

This is not to say that the Russian leadership failed to seek a quid pro quo. The reward concerned Chechnya; Russia associated itself with the war on terror, and cooperated in it; the reward seems to have been carte blanche regarding the messy prosecution of its counter-insurgency.

Elsewhere, the Russian government quietly acquiesced in several questions that its predecessors had resisted. One was the demise of the Anti-ballistic Missile Treaty. The Bush Administration announced its intention to withdraw soon after it took offi ce, in view of its commitment to theatre and possibly strategic missile defence. The Russians let it go, Putin commenting that in his view, the American decision was a mistake. Likewise, on the second round of NATO enlargement, which included three former Soviet republics (Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania), Russia was unhappy, but did not make an issue of it. The contrast with the Yeltsin era, when Russia’s president threatened a cold peace at the very least, was dramatic. The underlying Russian text appeared to be: we don’t like it, but there is nothing we can do about it at the moment, so let it go.

The process leading up to the Iraq War of 2003 illustrates not so much acqui-escence as ducking. Here, Russia could have played a much more prominent role in the UN Security Council in opposition to American preferences. It did not, since others (and notably France) were willing to do the heavy lifting. Russia encouraged them to do so very publicly, not least at the tripartite April 2003 summit in Saint Petersburg. The calculus here seems to have been to let others take the heat in their relations with the United States. Since these others had the ability to block UN approval of the US invasion, the Russian Federation could secure its preferred out-come without incurring signifi cant penalties in the Russian–American relationship. By endorsing Franco-German opposition, the Russian government was willing to accept a degree of risk, with the attendant possibility of negative unintended con-sequences from its cheering from the sidelines. However, those risks were clearly lower than they would have been had Russia led the charge.

It is unclear how durable this ducking behaviour is. One might expect that, as Russian power and resources grow, and as the power and purpose of the United States are increasingly compromised by the disaster in Iraq and the attendant domestic political consequences, Russia may be becoming more assertive on issues of importance to the United States. In the case of Iran, for example, the

46 S.N. MacFarlane

Russian government has consistently resisted American preferences for an end to the Russia–Iranian nuclear technology relationship, since Iran was not only an important customer for a struggling industry, but also because Russia valued cooperation with Iran on regional issues in the Caucasus and Caspian Basin. Russian policymakers rightly judged that, although irritating to the Americans, this policy was unlikely to cause serious aggravation in the bilateral relationship. Evidence of Iranian enrichment efforts, however, has pushed Iran up the US policy agenda, increasing the risk for Russia. The fact that they openly continue to block a robust UN Security Council response suggests that, as Russia recovers, it is becoming more tolerant of risk. Once again, though, they are sharing the risk with China. Whether they would accept it alone is unknown.

In the second category are issues on which Russia has a clear and generally understood vital interest at stake, whereas US and European interests are secondary, if they exist at all. So, for example, it was clear that the United States government was unhappy about the Khodokorvsky affair and the associated state theft of private assets. European policymakers are obviously unhappy with the pressure placed on Shell at the end of 2006 regarding supposed violations of Russian environmental regulations in the development of Sakhalin II. Yet it is equally clear that the Americans and their European allies have been unwilling to back up their position with signifi cant retaliatory action. Russian behaviour in the confl ict in Chechnya displays a similar calculus. Many in the West are unhappy with how the Putin gov-ernment has chosen to prosecute the war. However, Western countries are clearly unwilling to allow their dislike of Russian policy to complicate broader bilateral relations. And, for that matter, Putin has effectively used the discourse of counter-terrorism to defuse external pressure on this point. In both instances, the Russian position is enhanced by the fact that the issues just mentioned clearly fall within their normal domestic jurisdiction. In pursuing the policies in question, they are, arguably, exercising their sovereign rights. The same is true of the broader anti-democratic agenda of the Putin Administration.

In these respects, the potential for serious confl ict between Russia and NATO is limited, despite their considerable disagreement over visions of a future Europe. Neither side is disposed to push on matters of vital interest to the other.

The third category comprises issues falling between the two just discussed. Its complexity is most clear with regard to Russia’s relations with the other former Soviet republics (minus the Baltics). This space also is that most relevant to the theme of this collection, since one of the two next logical focuses of democratic enlargement now that the second round of enlargement is coming to term is exactly the former Soviet republics.

The continuing Russian commitment to primacy in this space is unquestioned, and is an important qualifi er to the predominance of internal recovery and consolidation as the basis for contemporary Russian foreign policy. The preoccupation with the neighbourhood refl ects an understanding that events and processes in contiguous states can produce substantial negative externalities (terrorism, criminality, illegal migration) for Russia itself. The focus on the CIS is also informed by a fairly narrowly zero-sum view of foreign policy and national interest. If the dominant


perspective in NATO/EU Europe focuses on cooperation for mutual gain, that in Russia is informed by a competitive and relative gain perspective. The improvement in Russia’s economy and Russia’s attendant political consolidation favour greater Russian assertion on its immediate periphery. The risk aversion characteristic of the past several years of Russian policy in this region may diminish if the domestic situation continues to improve.

The deepening Western and particularly American engagement with the region is equally clear, and not only in terms of the war on terror. The Caspian Basin plays an important role in discussions of European and transatlantic energy security, as a potentially signifi cant alternative source of supply. Ukraine and Belarus are perceived as increasingly important transit countries for energy product from the Russian Federation. Finally, the changing membership of both NATO and the EU favours increasing institutional engagement in the former Soviet region. Poland has given a strong impetus to more serious NATO and EU consideration of Ukraine. The Baltic republics have played a similar catalyzing role in the south-eastward extension of Europe’s new neighbourhood strategy, as well as in NATO’s deepening cooperation with Caucasian states and Ukraine. In other words, the lobby within European institutions for more systematic engagement with the former Soviet republics has grown in size and infl uence. It is worth noting that these states not only seek deeper NATO and EU engagement in the former Soviet Union, but also have strong historical reasons for suspicion of Russian policy, and deeply ambivalent relations with the Russian Federation. To the extent that their infl uence is effective, this may exacerbate tensions between NATO and Russia in the longer term. The key areas of potential diffi culty include energy security, unresolved border demarcation issues in the Baltic region, the Kaliningrad question, Russia’s presence in and policy towards Transnistria, and the Baltic and Polish perspectives on NATO accession for Georgia and, possibly, for Ukraine.

Many Russians saw signs of democratic transition in the former Soviet space to be troubling for at least two reasons. First, to the extent that this transition was successful, it carried the potential for a wider opening to the West on the part of these states. The 2003 revolution in Georgia produced an unequivocal commit-ment on the part of that country to membership in NATO and the EU, as well as a dramatic acceleration in the development of the US–Georgian strategic relation-ship. The demise of Eduard Shevardnadze in a popular uprising also contributed to the EU decision to include the Caucasus in its neighbourhood initiative. The Orange Revolution produced an unambiguous, though perhaps unsustainable, turn towards the West on the part of the successor Ukrainian government and a dramatic acceleration in Western institutional interest in that country. In this respect, the enlargement of democratic space in this part of Eurasia is seen as having geopolitical implications detrimental to Russia’s position in international relations. Moreover, there was clear concern in Russia that the disease was catching, that successful electoral revolutions would have a demonstration effect in other former Soviet republics, and possibly in Russia itself. In other words, the enlargement of democratic space was seen as directly threatening to the stability of the status quoin Russia itself. Although this concern has diminished as Russian confi dence in

48 S.N. MacFarlane

its capacity to control spillover has grown, it is indicative of a general discomfort with the transferral of Western values to the region.

In short, the potential for disagreement between Russia and European and transatlantic institutions in this space is growing. We see this already both in general and case-specifi c terms. Perhaps the most pertinent general example, given the thrust of this volume, is the evolution of Russian perspectives on the democracy promotion activities of the OSCE’s Offi ce for Democratic Institutions and Human Rights (ODIHR), and also on the activities of OSCE fi eld offi ces in the former Soviet republics. The Russian Government has expressed increasing concern about the activities of both, which has construed to be a violation of the sovereignty principle.

In July 2004, Russia enlisted several similarly criticized former Soviet states in joint pressure on these institutions. A CIS Statement signed by nine states pilloried the Organization for ignoring its own fundamental documents, overemphasizing humanitarian and human rights monitoring, promoting democratic institutions over other dimensions of security, and employing double standards in its focus on “Eastern” members while paying no attention to similar problems elsewhere. The work of ODIHR was singled out for paying insuffi cient attention to the conditions of individual states and its excessive politicization. OSCE fi eld missions were criticized essentially for interfering in internal affairs of member states, and for displaying insuffi cient respect for sitting governments.13 This was followed by Russian opposition to the adoption of annual budgets and by considerable diffi culty in the election of a new Secretary-General.

Perhaps the best example concerns Russian policy towards Uzbekistan. In 2005, there was a major human rights incident in Andijan, in the Ferghana region of that country.14 European states criticised Uzbek government actions very quickly, and demanded an independent investigation. The United States prevaricated for a time, perhaps refl ecting concern over the effect of criticism on its close defence relationship with Uzbekistan. But eventually the State Department embraced the appeal for an independent investigation of the incident. Any such investigation was adamantly rejected by the government of Uzbekistan, which argued that what happened in Andijan was a matter of domestic jurisdiction.

The interesting play here was Russia’s. The Russian leadership very consistently took the view that the Andijan matter was a question of domestic jurisdiction and strongly supported the Uzbek claim that the action in question was a proportionate response to terrorist activity and that no international investigation was warranted.15

This position was coordinated with the likeminded Chinese leadership, and was followed by the orchestration of a regional campaign against the US military presence in Central Asia. Russian activity displayed continuing caution, however. Rather than tackling the matter directly, the Russian Federation worked through regional organizations and relied on states within the region to take a leading role. The question of removing US bases from Central Asia was raised principally by the Shanghai Cooperation Organization (SCO), which suggested that since the terrorist threat in Afghanistan had been largely addressed [sic], the reasons for US deployment in the area no longer applied. The organization went further to request


that a timetable for US withdrawal from Central Asia be defi ned.16 Uzbekistan eventually demanded the withdrawal of US forces. The treaty of alliance that President Karimov signed with his Russian counterpart in November 2005 grants Russia the “right to use military installations” in Uzbekistan on the basis of further agreements,17 and has been accompanied by the resumption of Russian military exercises in Uzbekistan (in September 2005 for the fi rst time since 1991) and a dramatic acceleration in Russian economic activity in the country.18

Although the view in Brussels appears to be that there is little to be done about this strategic reversal in Central Asia, there is some potential for risk in the Russian policy trajectory. In the fi rst place, Central Asia, and Kazakhstan in particular, are seen as a very important potential energy source for Europe. The Russian government has displayed considerable and growing ambivalence about Western involvement in energy development in the Russian oil and gas sector. As Russian infl uence in Central Asia grows, this attitude may spill over into Russian views on energy development and trade in Central Asia. Moreover, Russian policymakers have more than occasionally obstructed efforts to create transit routes for the export of oil and gas from the region that avoid Russian territory. As Russia’s regional position improves, such activity may increase, generating friction with NATO states.

Elsewhere, the Caucasus and, in particular, Georgia, suggests a similar Russian reassertion. In the Georgian case, the Russian Federation has done what it can to limit international engagement that might complicate Russia’s regional policy. For example, in 2004 the Russian government vetoed the renewal of the OSCE border-monitoring mission along Georgia’s frontier with Chechnya, despite wide consensus within the OSCE on that mission’s continuation. As already noted, Russia has continued, and accelerated, its granting of Russian citizenship to residents of the breakaway territories of Abkhazia and South Ossetia. Seconded Russian military personnel serve in the armed forces of these territories. Russia provides substantial support to their budgets. In January 2006, Russia’s gas supply to Georgia was interrupted by damage to two pipelines in the North Caucasus, while Russian electricity supply to Georgia was disrupted by another explosion that destroyed two pylons on a major power transmission line. Although Russian authorities blamed unidentifi ed terrorist groups for the disruptions, the apparently coordinated effort to halt Russian energy supply to Georgia, involving action in two widely separated areas, raised questions for many as to whether this was an effort to foment instability in Georgia, or to make Georgia’s government more receptive to Russian foreign policy and security preferences.19 That these actions have been accompanied by an escalating war of words between the two countries suggests that the Russian Federation has a broad agenda of limiting Georgia’s capacity to integrate with Western institutions (including NATO) and pulling Georgia back into line. In September 2006, ostensibly in response to the arrest of alleged Russian spies in Georgia, Russia escalated further with wider economic sanctions and travel bans. The Russian cut off of gas supplies to Ukraine in mid-winter 2005–06 could be construed as an effort to infl uence the parliamentary electoral process in that country, and, more broadly, to reduce popular support for the reformist coalition

50 S.N. MacFarlane

that took power in 2004. Finally, Russia’s consistent support of the Lukashenka government in Belarus, in the face of growing NATO and EU efforts to isolate that government, constitutes a direct challenge to the democratizing agenda of European institutions.

These events suggest that – to the extent that NATO and the EU are committed to the enlargement of an integrated liberal and democratic space that includes the non-Russian former Soviet republics – they are likely to run into increasing diffi culty with Russia. These diffi culties are likely to grow as Russia’s self-confi dence returns.

Conclusion

The discussion of Russia, NATO and the enlargement of Europe’s democratic space has a slightly surreal character. Russia is not committed (at least at the moment) to the construction of a liberal democratic political order within its own borders. It is singing from a completely different sheet, focusing on consolidation of the political regime’s power at the centre, and the power of the centre over the subjects of the Russian Federation and the commanding heights of its economy. The internal focus of Russian policymakers in the early years of the Putin period produced a retrenchment and rationalization of Russian foreign policy. However, Russian retrenchment was incomplete, since Russia showed no sign of permitting the deeper integration of the former Soviet area into broader European institutional structures (through NATO membership, for example), and substantial (and growing) capacity to resist democratic transformation in its immediate periphery.

In these circumstances, the deepening engagement of Western institutions and states in the affairs of the non-Russian former Soviet republics raises the prospect of growing tension in these institutions’ and states’ relations with Russia. Long-term generational and cultural change within Russia itself may mitigate the prospect of confl ict with Western states and institutions, but the process of cultural change is ambiguous,20 hardly historically determined, and likely to be slow.

Beyond the Russian periphery, Russia was for the most part unwilling to chal-lenge the Western agenda. This refl ected Russia’s recognition of its persisting relative weakness and of the need to focus on internal processes. However, the partial retrenchment and regional focus in Russian foreign policy is a result of an historically contingent understanding of Russia’s place in the international system and in the regional balance of power. As the process of internal reconsolidation continues and as Russia continues to benefi t from windfall profi ts from its energy exports while the United States squanders its resources and prestige, and the domestic base for America’s international activism erodes, it is reasonable to expect a widening Russian reengagement in the international system. This possibility is already evident in the rekindling of Russia’s diplomacy towards the Middle East (the talks with Hamas offi cials in Moscow, the revival of the Russian–Syrian rela-tionship, and Putin’s visit to Israel, for example), as well as Russia’s reappearance as a player on the African scene (Putin’s visit to South Africa, as well as the role Russia plays in respect of Sudan discussed above). Many of the positions taken by


Russia on central problems in these regions are diffi cult to square with Western preferences. In this respect, one may expect also a gradual increase in the potential for confl ict with NATO states in the broader international system.

Notes

1 For an early analysis of this point, see S. Neil MacFarlane, “Vozmozhnosti Mirovogo Soobshchestva v Reshenii Konfl ikta,” Tsentral’naya Azia i Kavkaz, No. 4 (10), 2000, pp. 161–4.

2 See Nicholas Wheeler, Saving Strangers: Humanitarian Intervention in International Society (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000); International Commission on Intervention and State Sovereignty, The Responsibility to Protect (Ottawa: IDRC, 2001); Jennifer Welsh, ed., Humanitarian Intervention and International Relations (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003); S. Neil MacFarlane and Yuen Foong Khong, The United Nations and Human Security: A Critical History (Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press, 2006).

3 For a useful discussion, see “West Fears Russia Veto over U.N. Sanctions for Darfur Bloodshed,” Mosnews, 15 February 2005. Available at: http://www.mosnews.com/news/2005/02/15/darfur.shtml [Accessed 27 October 2006].

4 For example, the US abandonment of basic principles of their own law (habeas corpus,access to counsel and access to the courts, trial by one’s peers), and of international law (the Geneva Conventions, the International Convention on Torture), in what the US Administration construes as its “war on terror” – which suggests that some members of the transatlantic community approximate the Russian understanding of international obligation and the rule of law. For an early consideration of these issues, see S. Neil MacFarlane, “Charter Values and the Response to Terrorism,” in Jane Boulden and Thomas G. Weiss, eds, Terrorism and the UN Before and After September 11 (Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press, 2004).

5 World Bank, “2005 International Comparison Program,” http://siteresources.worldbank.org/ICPINT/Resources/ICP-report-prelim.pdf, pp. 22–24.

6 World Bank, “Russian Federation Data Profi le.” Available at: http://devdata.worldbank.org/external/CPProfile.asp?PTYPE=CP&CCODE=RUS [Accessed 20 August 2006].

7 Fraser Cameron, “Russia on the Eve of the G8 Summit,” European Policy Centre Policy Brief (July 2006), p. 2.

8 For a useful account of this failure, M. B. Olcott, A. Aslund and S. W. Garnett, Getting It Wrong: Regional Cooperation and the Commonwealth of Independent States (Washington, D.C.: The Brookings Institution, 2000).

9 Alexey Pushkov, “Putin at the Helm,” in Dov Lynch, ed., What Russia Sees, Chaillot Paper No. 74 (Paris: European Union Institute for Security Studies, 2005), p. 46.

10 This agenda is discussed in greater detail in S. Neil MacFarlane, “Is Russia an Emerging Power?,” International Affairs, LXXXII, No. 1 (January 2006), pp. 46–7.

11 Vladimir Putin, “Speech at the Foreign Ministry” (19 January 2001). See also “The National Security Concept of the Russian Federation” (18 January 2000), pp. 2–4.

52 S.N. MacFarlane

Available at: http://www.fas.org/nuke/guide/russia/doctrine/gazeta012400.htm [Accessed 20 August 2006].

12 Interview with senior offi cial of the National Security Council, September 2005. 13 Statement by CIS Member Countries on the State of Affairs in the OSCE, Moscow, 3

July 2004. Available at: http://www.mid.ru/brp_4.nsf/e78a48070f128a7b43256999005bcbb3/3be4758c05585a09c3256ecc00255a52?OpenDocument [Accessed 25 August 2006]. Armenia, Belarus, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Moldova, Russia, Tajikistan, Uzbekistan and Ukraine signed. Georgia, Turkmenistan and Azerbaijan did not. The statement was presented to the OSCE Permanent Council on 9 July 2004 by the Russian representative.

14 For a summary account of these events, see “Uzbekistan: Willing to Act,” The World Today, LXI, No. 8–9 (August–September 2005), pp. 28–30. See also OSCE/ODIHR, “Preliminary Findings on the Events in Andijan, Uzbekistan, 13 May 2005” (Warsaw: ODIHR, 20 June 2005); and Human Rights Watch, “’Bullets Were Falling Like Rain’: The Andijan Massacre, May 13, 2005” (New York: Human Rights Watch, 2005). Available at: http://hrw.org/reports/2005/uzbekistan0605/ [Accessed 24 August 2005].

15 On this point, see Sergei Lavrov, “Interview with Newspaper Izvestia,” 17 May 2005. Available at: http://mid.ru [Accessed 3 December 2005].

16 On these points, see Daniel Kimmage, “Central Asia: SCO – Shoring Up the Post-Soviet Status Quo,” Central Asia Report (14 July 2005). Available at: http://www.rferl.org/reports/centralasia/2005/07/26-140705.asp [Accessed 24 August 2006].

17 See “Dogovor o soyuznicheskikh otnosheniakh mezhdy Rossiiskoi Federatsiei i Respublikoi Uzbekistan,” 14 November 2005, Article 4. Available at: http://www.mid.ru/ns-rsng.nsf/6bc38aceada6e44b432569e700419ef5/432569d800221466c3256eb600317a9f?OpenDocument [Accessed 24 August 2005].

18 See Vladimir Socor, “Uzbekistan: Enter Russia, Exit America,” Eurasia Daily Monitor II, Issue 215 (Washington, D.C.: The Jamestown Foundation, 17 November 2005).

19 For an account of these events and interpretation of their possible signifi cance, see Vladimir Socor, “Russian Energy Supply Cutoff to Georgia: Another Wake-Up Signal to the West,” Eurasia Daily Monitor III, Issue 15 (Washington, D.C.: The Jamestown Foundation, 23 January 2006).

20 See the paper in this volume by Tim Colton (chap. 2).

SECTION II

4 Enlargement and the perils of containment

Aurel Braun

In most respects, the NATO enlargement debate seems to be over. The fear that enlargement was going to be dangerous, premature, or, at least, irrelevant1 does not appear to have been borne out. In two enlargements, in 1999 and in 2004, NATO has added ten new members, including the three newly independent Baltic States, and has signifi cantly expanded the “zone of democracy.” Russia has acquiesced to these enlargements and, in fact, has joined the NATO–Russia Council which, in turn, has promised to provide a powerful institutional consultative mechanism and allows for senior Russian military representation at Alliance headquarters. NATO for its part has moved to broaden its political role and greatly widened the geographical scope of its missions, including the International Security Assistance Force (ISAF), in Afghanistan.2 In fact, the Alliance has developed an increasingly global view.3 Further, the Alliance not only remains committed to additional enlargement, but several states, including Georgia and Ukraine (at least, many of their leaders), are clamoring to join.4 Last, Russia, with the bloody exception of Chechnya, seems politically stable, awash in oil at a time of record world energy prices, and is enjoying impressive economic growth. Thus, most of the pivots for a reassuring and sustainable security architecture from Vancouver to Vladivostok seem to be in place.

This positive picture, however, camoufl ages important confl icting goals and fi ssures that in the long term endanger both the spread of democracy and the build-ing of security. Russia’s grudging acquiescence to enlargement is not the same as genuine acceptance of the Western principle of expanding the zone of democracy. Moscow’s assumed impulse of forging deeper ties with the West and its declared goal of building a strategic partnership with Western Europe while at the same time relentlessly insisting on complete, unassailable sovereignty (thereby rejecting any external involvement or criticism)5 remain a contradiction that is yet to be resolved. The new members from Eastern Europe continue to try to fi nd ways to exercise suffi cient weight within the Alliance so that they can ensure the security protections that they have long sought and seek to help enlarge the zone of democracy so that they may have the security buffers that they believe they need. Some of the key Western European allies, particularly France and Germany, have pursued policies that highlight Alliance issues of identity and relevance while they have attempted to fi nd counterweights to what they viewed as excessive American power in a

56 A. Braun

uni-polar world. Moreover, to address the latter concern, these West European allies have, at times, turned to Russia.

Underneath the surface then, there has been a considerable amount of activity that represents a signifi cant degree of insecurity due to contradictions, fi ssures, and perceived threats. On closer scrutiny, I would suggest, what emerge are attempts by Russia, the Eastern European members, and some key Western European allies at complex, multiple and overlapping containments to ensure national interests and guarantee long-term security. The various parties have tried to create an extraordinarily intricate choreography to make these containments effective. Yet, success depends on avoiding any major missteps and this is highly unlikely, given the intrinsic uncertainties and most importantly, the failure to address frontally some of the key issues of security and democratization.

Russian choreography

A decade and a half following the dissolution of the Soviet Union, it would be inap-propriate to speak of Russia as a disoriented state, but it would not be inac cu rate to suggest that it suffers, at least in part, from an identity crisis.6 The enlargement of NATO has hardly helped, for despite what the Russians believed was a commitment to the contrary by the US, at the time of German unifi cation, NATO has expanded to their border (as has the EU). Though NATO is not among the top national issues, a large percentage of the Russian population is concerned by Alliance enlargement, and a plurality views it as a threat to Russia.7 President Vladimir Putin himself also strongly disparaged enlargement in the summer of 2005 when he contended that it did not improve world security.8 His anger at enlargement was palpable when he sharply attacked the United States and NATO in May 2007, on the 62nd anniversary of the defeat of Nazi Germany, and made provocative allusion to the Third Reich.9

Moreover, Russia’s view of itself, in a sense, is fi ltered partially through NATO enlargement, for this is where some key threats, in its eyes, materialize, and it is in certain ways the Alliance, led by the US, against which it measures itself.

Clearly, Russia is no longer a superpower with a global reach, but it is not an ordinary regional power. The regions in which Russia is a power, including Europe, East Asia, and the Middle East, are themselves profoundly important strategically. Russia, with its vast territory, enormous natural resources, and great scientifi c talent, confronting a dramatically changed post-Cold War environment, is, not surprisingly, driven by both grave security concerns and signifi cant temptations. Former prime minister, Yevgeny Primakov, addressed both this dilemma and a possible resolution. He went back to a nineteenth century Russian foreign minister, Aleksandr Gorchakov, for inspiration for rebuilding Russian power.10 Following Gorchakov’s model, Primakov concluded that Russia’s weakness is temporary, that even when weakened Russia could pursue an active and effective foreign policy to ensure a strong voice in international politics, that it could do this in part by manipulating other powers and playing on various resentments, and that it could use foreign policy successes to rebuild domestic strength, and eventually, reassert its former international power.11

Enlargement and the perils of containment 57

At fi rst, President Putin appeared to strongly reject this Primakovian approach when he declared himself committed both to democratization at home and cooperation with the West abroad. In the past few years though, the Putin gov ern-ment’s domestic and foreign policies have taken on a strong Primakovian tinge.

Domestically, Putin has paid lip service to democratization, but substantively, has moved to greater political and economic centralization and restrictive judicial practices. He appears to be persuaded that the best way to guarantee domestic recovery is to use his own particular defi nition of democracy and economic freedom. In April 2005, he rejected Western criticism and declared that, “as a sovereign country, Russia can and will independently determine for itself the timeframe and the conditions of its movement [toward democracy].”12 In 2007 he asserted that Western criticism of Moscow for its record on democracy was in reality just a ploy to make Russia more pliable on international issues.13 Yet, the defi nition of liberal democracies is not infi nitely elastic. They are political orders that possess a combination of constitutional freedoms, vertical accountability of offi ce holders to the electorate, strong horizontal accountability of offi ce holders to other centres of authority, so that no individual or group can stand above the rule of law14 and are permeated by rule-bounded uncertainty about political outcomes.15

This is what characterizes the most successful liberal democracies in Eastern Europe and distinguishes them from illiberal democracies where the rule of law is applied capriciously at best. The latter approach is refl ected in President Putin’s support for legislation that would tighten control over some 450,000 non-governmental organizations (NGOs), including Western human rights and environmental organi-zations operating in Russia. He argued that all these should be within the “state’s fi eld of vision” and that the law will provide a means of preventing organizations from being “used as a tool of foreign policy by other states.”16 Thus, in a sense, Putin was also indicating the linkage between domestic and foreign policy in his goal of strengthening Russia domestically and safeguarding it internationally. It is also little wonder that Transparency International has currently placed Russia at number 121 as one of the least transparent countries in which to do business.17

Internationally, the Putin government’s policies, which have increasingly followed a Primakovian line, seem to rely on intricate maneuvers and manipulation to contain developments or threats while Russia rebuilds its strength and regains what it thinks should be its rightful international status. In fact, Moscow appears to be pursuing a policy of overlapping containments that involve stopping further NATO enlargement on Russia’s borders, weakening NATO itself, isolating or “leapfrogging” the Eastern European members, manipulating key West European states, and counterbalancing the United States.

First, Russia has continued to express its unhappiness about NATO enlargement, despite reassurances from NATO Secretary General Jaap de Hoop Scheffer that “the enlarged NATO does not have any motive or plan which would run counter to the interests of Russia.”18 Russian concerns are not just another case of imperial nostalgia, though Putin did characterize the collapse of the Soviet system as the “greatest geopolitical catastrophe of the century.”19 Rather, Moscow has been very protective and worried about the zone immediately on its borders, and specifi cally

58 A. Braun

about Georgia and Ukraine. In 2004, in both countries waves of democratization brought in governments that Russia view with great suspicion. The strong push by both Georgia and Ukraine for NATO membership20 could only reinforce Russian concerns. In the case of Ukraine, in fact, President Putin placed his own reputation at considerable risk when he endorsed the “Kremlin candidate,” Viktor Yanukovich, in fraudulent elections in 2004 only to see him swept aside by popular outrage and as the favorite of the West, Viktor Yushchenko, gained the Ukrainian Presidency.

Matters were made even worse for Moscow as NATO encouraged the forces of democracy in Ukraine and as, at least in Russian eyes, then Polish president Aleksander Kwasniewski played a crucial role in supporting the Orange Revolution and in ensuring Yushchenko’s victory.21 True, Ukraine is a long way from NATO membership and Viktor Yanukovich, who later became prime minister, has been entirely unenthusiastic about joining the Alliance. President Bush himself has cautioned the Ukrainian leadership that the country has much to do still22 before it will gain entry into the Alliance. Nevertheless, Ukraine is eligible for membership, and given its strategic location and huge Russian ethnic minority, it is unlikely that Russia would forego its efforts to prevent enlargement here.

Second, Russia has tried to contain NATO by working to weaken it from within, but it has done so in a subtle and sophisticated fashion. Western fears early on that bringing Russia into some institutional framework within NATO will weaken the Alliance, however, have not been borne out. Henry Kissinger’s warning that the 1997 Founding Act that created the NATO–Russia Permanent Joint Council (PJC) might dilute the Alliance23 did not materialize. In fact, the PJC’s basic irrelevance was evident during the Kosovo crisis,24 and in 2002, it was replaced by the NATO–Russia Council (NRC), which promised greater consultation and reassurance.25 Russia, though, has not been able to use the NRC as an effective blocking mechanism in the Alliance on matters such as Iraq or Afghanistan, though it has found it useful as a forum for dialogue.26 Nonetheless, as a senior Russian diplomat intimated, Moscow has tried to use the NRC as a means of creating a “balance of power” within NATO and to be “fair” to Europe (meaning France and Germany).27 Given the fi ssures in the Alliance, this would hardly enhance NATO’s effectiveness. Further, the same diplomat also expressed satisfaction that this partial inclusion of Russia sent a clear message to the new members, especially the Baltic States, as to just how strong and infl uential Russia remained, and that despite the former’s full membership in the Alliance, they had no hope of outfl anking or pressuring Moscow.28

Third, such attempts to marginalize Eastern European NATO members have been an ongoing project for Moscow. Part of it has been through the use of direct pres sure on East European states via Russia’s control of energy supplies. For example, from 1997 to 2000 alone, Russia cut off oil deliveries to Lithuania’s key oil refi nery at Mazeikiai at least nine times to pressure that government.29

More recently, Russia has decided that it will build a new gas pipeline to supply Germany and Western Europe under the Baltic Sea, thereby bypassing Lithuania and Poland.30


Further, Russia has used certain political gestures to convey to the Eastern European states its displeasure or that it did not see these states as particularly relevant. For instance, in June 2005, President Putin pointedly did not invite the leaders of Poland to the 750th anniversary of the founding of Kaliningrad to make clear his anger at Warsaw for helping the democratic opposition gain power in Ukraine. At the same event, Putin grandly feted Chancellor Gerhard Schroeder of Germany and President Jacques Chirac of France.31 As well, at the 60th anniversary celebration in Moscow of the end of World War Two, President Putin did not acknowledge Poland as a wartime ally, did not apologize for the 1939 Nazi–Soviet Pact, which led to the dismemberment of Poland, or note the Stalinist repression of Poland.32 This refusal to atone for the Molotov–Ribbentrop Protocols, which in addition to the dismemberment of Poland, led to the annexation of the Baltic States and Moldova, sent a blunt message to the Eastern European states both about the relative insignifi cance that they held for Moscow and the domestic character (hardline) of Putin’s government.33

Moscow has also not hesitated to use direct verbal messages to try to intimidate or isolate Eastern European Alliance members, particularly those in the northern tier of the region. In April 2005, for example, Putin declared that “support for the rights of compatriots abroad is a crucial goal. It cannot be subject to a diplomatic or political bargain” and pointedly for the Baltic States emphasized that “those who do not respect, observe or ensure human rights have no right to demand that human rights be observed by others.”34 In 2007, when Estonia moved the Red Army monument of a Soviet soldier from downtown Tallinn, Putin immediately raised his strong concern and his foreign minister and the Kremlin-friendly Russian press launched furious attacks on the Baltic State.35 Further, Putin did not hesitate to heap abuse on East European leaders who, in his eyes, acted against Russian national interests, or who tried to rally NATO support for such actions. Following Kwasniewski’s mediation in the wake of the fraudulent November 2004 presidential elections in Ukraine, Putin suggested that the Polish leader was just an opportunist who had in his youth worked for Soviet interests, “We in Russia … know him from the times he was working with the Komsomol with us.”36 It is noteworthy that Putin was sending out such harsh messages to Eastern European states just as he was making strenuous efforts at building strong ties with France and Germany, and as important disagreements between Eastern European states on the one hand and the two West European members on the other hand on the war in Iraq remained unresolved. It is little wonder that the East European members of the Alliance felt that Russia was trying to isolate them, diminish their infl uence, and divide the Alliance.37

Fourth, Russian attempts to forge strong relations, especially with France and Germany in Western Europe, though, have been driven by considerably more than just a desire to bypass or isolate the East European members. Moscow’s efforts seem designed to increase Russia’s weight in Europe and ultimately, to better contain both NATO and the last remaining superpower. True, like Boris Yeltsin, Putin has sought to bring Russia closer to the West, but he has wanted to do this on Russia’s terms.38 Given the high level of Russian energy exports to

60 A. Braun

Western Europe and the large scale of trade,39 this is an area where prospects for exercising Russian infl uence seem quite promising. Following the outbreak of the Iraq war, questions about the security of supplies and skyrocketing energy prices, the Russian position appears to have improved even further. In addition, as some of the West European governments chafed under US leadership in a unipolar world, Russia saw (and continues to see) this as a new opportunity to draw closer to Europe on its own terms.

Putin’s government appreciated early on that it had to thread a fi ne line in dealing with Western Europe since there was a preference there for a community approach as opposed to a national one. Yet, Moscow also understood that high levels of dependence on energy supplies from Russia, such as in the case of Germany and the various ambitions of key European leaders could be used to enhance Russia’s position in Europe, possibly both against the Eastern European states and the US. Not coincidentally, Putin greatly strengthened his political friendship with Gerhard Schroeder and Jacques Chirac in February 2003 when the trio met and harshly criticized the Bush administration on its policy on Iraq.40 Putin also cultivated a strong personal friendship (and signifi cantly increased natural gas shipment to Italy) with Italy’s Silvio Berlusconi, who reciprocated by defending the Russian government’s prosecution of Yukos CEO, Mikhail Khodorkovsky on the basis that the Russian leader was “a very good legal expert.”41 Most signifi cantly, Putin was particularly careful in cultivating a friendship with Chirac. The Russian leader sought to give the French president the maximum credit for the February 2003 joint statement on Iraq. Putin declared that this kind of agreement could only happen in France, that historic credit should go to Chirac, and that the document was “the fi rst building block in the construction of the very same multipolar world of which I spoke.”42

Yet, despite these attempts at engagement, Russia has not been nearly as successful as it had hoped in using its relations with key West European states to further its goals of containment. True, there has been considerable friction between some of the West European states and the new members in Eastern Europe. France and Poland in particular have had poor relations, made all the more diffi cult by the condescending rhetoric of the former French president43 toward Poland. Nevertheless, Russia has not been able to take full advantage of such fi ssures. For example, although France did not rush to support the Orange Revolution in Ukraine, it did not try to impede the mission of then Polish president Kwasniewski and of the European foreign policy chief, Javier Solana that helped mediate new elections and enabled the victory of Viktor Yushchenko.44 Russia’s relative ineffectiveness was also evident in its quest to stop West European criticism of its actions in Chechnya. Though, in 2005, French foreign minister Michel Barnier softened France’s rhetoric when he spoke of a “Chechen crisis” rather than of a “Chechen war,” as his predecessor Dominique de Villepin had, the French gov ern-ment remained quite critical of Russia’s actions, and the French press has continued to be relentless in condemning Russia’s actions.45

Fifth, there remain serious questions as to the wisdom and viability of Russian attempts to use West European states to contain or counterbalance the US. There


is in fact a problem with any attempt by Russia to substitute Western Europe for the US, even if the intention is just to contain the latter. At least for the near future, Russia has to deal with the US as the sole superpower and the only entity that has a truly global reach. As an infl uential Russian analyst has argued, even though Russia might highlight relations with Europe or China, “whether we like it or not, our possibilities in the rest of the world are largely determined by our relations with the United States.”46 Moreover, even if Russia had been able to build a strong Russian, French and German axis (and this was, at best, unlikely, given the diversity of interests that each of the last two have always had), it is doubtful that the trio would have carried suffi cient international weight to counterbalance the US. Further, the defeat of the referendum on the EU constitution in France and the November 2005 riots in Paris and other cities have tremendously weakened the political power and credibility of President Chirac. In addition, the election of a strongly pro-American president, Nicolas Sarkozy, in 2007 promises to re-balance relations between Paris and the anti-American elites and Washington.

As well, the 2005 elections in Germany resulted in the defeat of Schroeder’s Social Democrats and brought to power a Chancellor, Angela Merkel, who places less emphasis on relations with Paris and Moscow, and wants to improve ties with the US. Although she leads a coalition government with the Social Democrats, and this might limit her options, Chancellor Merkel has made it clear that she views Europe as a partner, not a counterweight, to the US.47 Therefore, at the very least, the vaunted moteur franco-allemand, which supposedly led Europe, and which Russia tried so hard to infl uence, is, if not dead, rapidly running out of gas.

Putin, of course, has never given up on infl uencing the US directly, despite his various efforts at containment, but his success here has also been limited. There has been productive cooperation in the fi ght against terrorism between Russia and the US, and Putin has good personal relations with George W. Bush. Even after the friction over the American proposal for the deployment of components of an anti-ballistic missile system (ABM) in Poland and the Czech Republic, Bush invited the Russian leader to his family’s vacation compound in Kennebunkport, Maine in 2007, in an attempt to warm up relations.48 Despite this honour, Putin refused to support an East European ABM deployment, instead offering a joint development with NATO that would be deployed on the territory of the former Soviet Union49

and Moscow did not reverse its decision to pull out of the Conventional Forces in Europe (CFE) treaty (which it had made in retaliation for the American proposed deployment.50

Such personal relations moreover, have not prevented the US from pushing strongly for the continued enlargement of the Alliance, from harshly criticizing Russian relations with Iran,51 from continuing its military actions in Iraq, or from trying to ensure its primacy in NATO. Further, despite professions of friendship, US discursive practices in dealing with Russia show considerable insensitivity, and Putin’s counterattacks have not made matters better. Following the February 2005 meeting with Putin in Bratislava, President Bush was bluntly patronizing when he demanded that “the Russian government must renew a commitment to democracy and the rule of law.”52 In June 2007 Bush, just prior to meeting Putin in Germany,

62 A. Braun

asserted that promised Russian domestic reforms “have been derailed.”53 Little wonder that Russia has emphasized its other efforts at containment.

Eastern European attempts at containment

Russia, though, is not the only state that is trying its hand at containment. It would be hard for any group of countries to just easily transcend several decades of history, but given the legacy of Soviet rule and hegemony in Eastern Europe, it would be especially diffi cult for the latter to overcome old fears and lingering bitterness. Matters have not been made easier by the fact that, as noted, Russia has not only refused to atone for Soviet misdeeds, but all too often, has failed to even acknowledge them. Combine this with a slow and often uncertain transition to democracy in Russia, and it is little wonder that the former communist states in Eastern Europe have been eager to join NATO and gain its protection.

The Alliance, however, has evolved. It has increasingly emphasized its political dimensions, it has created a larger area of ambiguity between collective defence and collective security, and, as an organization, has stressed that it no longer views Russia as a threat. Consequently, the Cold War idea of containment, specifi cally directed at the Soviet Union/Russia seems anachronistic, particularly in Paris and Berlin. The latter, though, is not necessarily the view in Warsaw, Riga or Vilnius. True, the new members of NATO have offi cially and frequently proclaimed that they do not see Russia as a threat. Yet, even though there is not a homogeneity of views among the ten post-Cold War members in Eastern Europe, there is persistent concern in most quarters with certain elements of Russian behaviour or Russian domestic political and economic developments that they fi nd especially worrisome. Moreover, as democracy is increasingly successfully consolidated in Eastern Europe, the democratic defi cit in Russia appears in a starker and more threatening light to the former members of the Soviet bloc. Further, the absence or scarcity of productive direct talks between Eastern European states on the one hand and Russia on the other (due in part to Russia’s attempts to outfl ank the former) also increases mistrust between seeming solitudes.

Protestations to the contrary then, Eastern European states have sought to contain Russia and have viewed enlargement as part of this process. Until Russia changes fundamentally in their eyes, they do not feel entirely safe. This is why the Baltic States, for example, have attached such importance to the symbolic deployment of a few NATO F-16 fi ghter aircraft to guard their skies. Poland remains concerned about a Russian return to imperialism or even a transmogrifi cation to a form of “liberal imperialism.”54 Latvia’s minister of foreign affairs, Artis Pabriks, compared Russia to the Weimar Republic and suggested that it is a country that suffers from an identity crisis where individual liberalism does not quite fi t.55

Therefore, the Eastern Europeans have sought to make certain that NATO could help them contain the threats that might arise from Russian instability or possible attempts by Moscow to undermine their security. Consequently, they are also looking for collective defence rather than collective security, and in particular, they want to have “hard security guarantees.”56


Eastern European states, though, have had to work hard to convince West European states, such as France and Germany, about hard security guarantees. This was made doubly diffi cult by the fact that for the Eastern Europeans only the US can provide such hard security guarantees. In turn, this means that they have had to push for a different vision of the transatlantic relationship within the Alliance from that of some of the key West European players. Enlargement that brings in more Eastern European states, then, would have among other benefi ts, the strengthening of the weight of those Alliance members who insist on hard security guarantees.

If all this, in a sense, were purely an Eastern European quest for some form of “insurance” where containment was used subtly, and where it was presented as temporary and precautionary, then this would probably be seen, at worst, as mar-ginally threatening by Russia. The Eastern European states, however, have defi ned the potential dangers that they face from Russia, at times in rather confrontational terms, and have pressed for developments that Russia has viewed as alarming. In Poland, for example, there have been claims that the Russian secret services have been involved in the energy sector and that Russia has used spies within oil companies to try to damage Polish interests.57 Latvian leaders have spoken darkly about Russians coming in by bus and rail with “large suitcases.”58

Eastern European states, moreover, have added new dimensions to contain ment, just as they have pushed for an Easternization of NATO’s security policy59 (some-thing they assume will give them a greater say in the Alliance), and have offered military bases to the US at a time when the Americans are drawing down their forces in Western Europe.60 Some of these states have pushed for a buffer zone. The Poles, for instance, have made it clear that they do not wish to be squeezed between Russia and Germany, and that a Ukraine in NATO would essentially provide an important buffer.61 Not surprisingly, Poland in particular, has pressed very hard for the quick integration of Ukraine into NATO and the EU. Despite the fact that there is a widespread consensus in the Alliance (and the EU) that Ukraine is a considerable way from fulfi lling entrance requirements, in August 2005, Kwasniewski declared that Ukraine was ready and that he believed that it would be “soon in our common European home, in the EU and in NATO.”62 Further, he did not mince words in warning Russia that it must not ignore individual countries or try to isolate them in Europe.63 The new president of Poland, Lech Kaczynski, has similarly indicated that he intends to take a tough line with Russia.64 In July 2007 he also reached an agreement with President Bush on the placement of part of the US missile defense system in Poland.65 At the same time, Defense Minister Aleksander Szczyglo labelled Russia “unpredictable.”66

Poland, in particular, seems to be deeply infl uenced by former US national security adviser, Zbigniew Brzezinski’s arguments that Russia suffers from imperial nostalgia, that it has alienated all its neighbours, and that the independence of Ukraine is essential in preventing Russia from becoming an empire.67 Brzezinski’s approach to Russia though dangerously combines contempt and fear. An enlarge-ment of NATO to the Ukraine, Georgia, or eventually to Belarus that is guided by such views would build walls and buffer zones that would segregate Russia.

Such a “segregating” approach is both risky and counter-productive. First,

64 A. Braun

although Ukraine, for instance, may have good reasons why it would wish to join NATO, it is highly unlikely that they would want to become a buffer zone for Poland or any East European NATO members. Second, by looking at further NATO enlargement as an opportunity for the creation of buffer zones against an “irredeemable” Russia, one that could not possibly become democratic, and then incorporating this into a policy has, ironically, the element of a self-fulfi lling prophecy. By isolating and making more insecure a troubled Russia, it could encourage the nationalistic, xenophobic, and anti-democratic forces in that state, leading to the creation of precisely the kind of political order that the new NATO members fear. It is an approach that is tone-deaf to the possibilities of democratic developments in Russia and of integrating it into larger security architecture that could bring together democratic states from Vancouver to Vladivostok. Over the long term too strong a focus on Russia and relentless emphasis on a Russian threat could also encourage nationalist and populist forces in Eastern Europe and damage their democracies.68 If the Eastern European attempt at containment then is more than just a short-term tactic (and even then there are risks), it poses a danger that in turn could defeat the strategy of building sustainable security. NATO enlargement eastward in that case will certainly not deliver the security benefi ts that the ten new members have hoped to attain.

West European maneuvers

West European states such as France and Germany, as noted, have differed sig nifi -cantly in their perception of Russia from their fellow NATO members beyond the Oder River. For Paris and Berlin, Russia is a state to be engaged rather than deterred and the Cold War containment is part of the rapidly receding past. European politicians such as Friedbert Pfl uger, Foreign Policy Spokesman for the CDU/CSU Parliamentary Group in Germany, have also tried to make it very clear that NATO enlargement is not a threat to Russia.69 French offi cials, in particular, have worked hard to be sensitive to Russian concerns about enlargement, and though they have suggested that Moscow has to accept the growth of the Alliance to Eastern Europe and the Baltic States, they have also insisted that the new members must learn to live with and accept the reality of Russia.70 They have also suggested a careful approach to Russia, stating for instance that, as a key player, Russia must be treated differently from smaller states such as Romania.71

For such West European states, the expansion of NATO was and remains part of a goal of enlarging the zone of democracy and of responding positively to the very strong and persistent requests of the Eastern European states to join. There were even suspicions in some quarters in the earlier post-Cold War enlargement that Alliance membership was offered as a compensation for withholding the more diffi cult and expensive EU membership.72 West European states, such as France, therefore, emphasized early on that NATO enlargement was not meant to separate Russia from Europe, and that they rejected the notion that Europe stopped at the borders of Russia.73 They strongly emphasized that a Europe without Russia was not a genuine Europe – France even set up a joint France–Russia Council.74


Nonetheless, it would be a mistake to overstate West European inclusiveness. True, there are limits to how far Russia itself would like to integrate into European institutions. Though Vladimir Putin has emphasized the European nature of Russia and the powerful links to European culture and history,75 he has been coy, at best, about the possibility of joining NATO. Russian offi cials, in fact, have indicated that they do not envision Russian membership in NATO in the near future.76 For their part though, the West European states such as France and Germany that have pushed most enthusiastically for stronger relations with Russia have not suggested even the possibility of NATO membership for it, in the future.

French offi cials and diplomats may have spoken so readily about the European-ness, the great importance of Russia and have pressed for negotiations on the “four Common Spaces,” but they do not seem any more eager to integrate Russia into the Alliance than their new Eastern European NATO partners. The French Ambassador to NATO, for instance, has contended that Russia’s natural place is in the Commonwealth of Independent States (CIS).77 Other French offi cials have also expressed the view that they could not envision Russia in NATO, as this would make the Alliance a very different kind of organization.78 Further, German offi cials have been no more keen about any possibility of Russian membership.79

Thus, although these West European allies reject Eastern European notions of containing Russia as anachronistic, the former still appear intent on keeping Russia substantively separate from the most important military (and economic) organizations on the continent. Since Germany and France seem in favour of limiting NATO enlargement to Russia’s borders, this raises questions as to just what role they see for Moscow in terms of a broader regional and international security strategy.

Still, it is fairly clear that West European states such as France and Germany, have been disconcerted by the extent of US dominance in the post Cold War period and by the clumsy way in which the current Bush administration has used America’s overwhelming power. Further, these European countries have also been irritated by the new NATO members’ insistence on hard security guarantees and strong ties to the US. Faced with a unipolar world, France and Germany very much want to move to multipolarity.80 They and others in Western Europe have been unhappy about what they see as a diminished ability to infl uence American behaviour in international relations. Among the key benefi ts that West European states had received from NATO in its fi rst four decades was an ability to “socialize” the US to the European way of thinking81 and to develop dense shared experiences that aided Alliance cohesion.82

As the Bush administration was moving toward military action in Iraq, though it became quite evident that West European states such as France and Germany had little infl uence on the US. Chirac and Schroeder looked for counterweights. For Chirac especially, Russia seemed to provide opportunities for containing the US. The problem was that both Chirac and Putin had an exaggerated sense of what could be achieved jointly. It is as if they concluded that in combining the myths of France’s grandeur and Russia’s indispensability, they could create a reality of global power that would be an effective counterweight to America. Cultivating

66 A. Braun

Russia, however, did not achieve this goal, nor did it have the side benefi t of keeping the Eastern European members “in their place.” On the contrary, it may have raised unattainable Russian expectations, further alarmed the new Eastern European members (who were also annoyed by Chirac’s contemptuous directive to Poland to keep silent) and irritated the US.

Further, in engaging Russia in terms of building counterweights, France and Germany sought to have the best of all worlds. They would remain free to criticize Russian domestic policies; keep Russia out of full membership in the key military and economic organizations in Europe, as noted; remain committed to further enlargements of NATO; and yet hope to basically have Russia “on call” to support French and German policy initiatives. It is noteworthy that even formal institutional links such as the France–Russia Council have been more about atmospherics than substance.83 In important ways, Western European states have been taking Russia for granted under the belief that Moscow, faced with growing Chinese power, had little choice anyway but to turn to Europe.84 It would not be surprising then, if sooner or later the Russians begin to ask some hard questions as to just how much benefi t they are really getting out of such a relationship, as well as query certain West European intentions and expectations.

Conclusion

It is not uncommon of course, in international relations, to witness multiple quests for power, intensive manipulation, or the pursuit of seemingly contradictory policies. It is also possible that even in very diffi cult circumstances, countries and international organizations will somehow muddle through. Further, it should be recognized that NATO enlargement did not necessarily create the problems that members, aspirants, and Russia face, but rather, highlighted and amplifi ed them. Yet, the attempts at a solution through the creation of intricate, multiple, overlapping containments are too complex, overly ambitious, and too dependent on an extraordinarily elaborate choreography that neither realpolitik nor discursive practices suggest will succeed.

Russia buoyed by its success as an oil/gas-based economy and needed partner in the fi ght against terrorism, risks over-reaching. Its short-term gains domestically and in international relations may extract a heavy long-term price. It is unlikely to realize the Primakovian fantasies of containing, manipulating, and isolating smaller neighbours and susceptible larger states (or organizations) while it rebuilds domestic strength and moves to regain global power. Russian/Soviet history shows that there is no long-term substitute for building democracy, a viable market system, balanced economic growth and integrating into the community of democratic states. In the case of the Eastern European states, they are not likely to succeed in building walls, segregating Russia, and constructing buffer zones. They will also need to recognize the irony of self-fulfi lling prophecies and how their actions can damage the prospects for stability and democracy in Russia. For certain key West European states, they need to come to the realization that they may well be better off by working on an equitable and sustainable partnership with


Washington rather than cynically seeking to use Russia to create a counterweight to the US to contain it. These West European states would also help both the Alliance and the prospects for a wider security architecture if they treated the new members with greater sensitivity and more reassurance.

The above, however, would require considerably greater patience, sensitivity and modesty from all parties. It would involve recognizing not only the risks but also the opportunities created by enlargement and accepting that seemingly clever solutions do not change reality. Failure would not just involve certain opportunity costs. It could lead to segregation, suspicion and hostility, a further stifl ing of the movement to democracy, and the creation of insurmountable obstacles to the building of what should be possible – a stable Vancouver to Vladivostok security architecture.

Notes

1 Michael Mandelbaum, “Preserving the New Peace: The Case Against NATO Expansion,” Foreign Affairs, Vol. 74, No. 3, May–June 1995, p. 9.

2 Mark Joyce, “Taking the Transformation Agenda Forward,” NATO Review, Spring 2005, http://www.nato.int/docu/review/2005/issue1/english/art5_pr.html

3 Ivo Daalder and James Goldgeier, “Global NATO,” Foreign Affairs, September–October 2006, http://www.foreignaffairs.org/20060901faessay85509/ivo-daalder-james-goldgeier/global-nato.html.

4 Yuliya Tymoshenko, “Containing Russia,” Foreign Affairs, May–June 2007, http://www.foreignaffairs.org/20070501faessay86307/yuliya-tymoshenko/containing-russia.html.

5 Dov Lynch, “Russia’s Strategic Partnership with Europe,” The Washington Quarterly,Vol. 27, No. 2, Spring 2004, p. 100.

6 S. Neil MacFarlane, “NATO in Russia’s Relations with the West,” Security Dialogue,Vol. 32, No. 3, September 2001, pp. 281–96.

7 A survey by the All-Russia Center for the Study of Public Opinion found that a plurality of 44% of the respondents perceived enlargement as a threat to Russia. Jeremy Page, “Expanded NATO Turns Cold War into Cold Peace,” The Times (UK), 13 April 2004; RFE/RL, Newsline 8:63. Part I, 5 April 2004.

8 Boston Globe, “Putin Questions NATO Enlargement,” 7 May 2005. 9 Andrew E. Kramer, “Putin Is Said to Compare U.S. Policies to Third Reich,” New York

Times, 10 May 2007, http://www.nytimes.com/2007/05/10/world/europe/10russia.html.

10 Yevgeny Primakov, “Russia in World Politics: A Lecture in Honor of Chancellor Gorchakov,” International Affairs (Moscow) 44, No. 3, 1998, pp. 7–13.

11 Ibid., pp. 10–12. 12 C. J. Chivers, “Russia Will Pursue Democracy, but in Its Own Way, Putin Says,” New

York Times, 26 April 2005. 13 Steven Lee Myers, “From Moscow, a New Chill,” New York Times, 27 May 2007, http://

www.nytimes.com/2007/05/27/weekinreview/27myers.html.

68 A. Braun

14 Adam Przeworski, “Problems in the Study of Transition to Democracy,” in Guillermo O’Donnell, ed., et al., Transitions from Authoritarian Rule: Prospects for Democracy(Baltimore and London: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1986) pp. 50–1.

15 Ibid. 16 Steven Lee Myers, “Putin Defends Russia’s Right to Regulate Private Groups,” New

York Times, 24 November 2005. 17 Matthew Chance, “Eye on Russia: Russia’s Resurgence,” CNN, 29 June 2007, http://

www.cnn.com/2007/WORLD/europe/06/18/chance.intro/index.html. 18 Jeremy Bransten, “NATO: Secretary-General in Moscow as Two Sides Work Out Evolving

Relationship,” RFE/RL, 8 April 2004, http://www.rferl.org/featuresarticleprint/2004/04/d7068b60-39fc-4a20-b2d3-d743f07ed6a7.html.

19 Chivers, Supra, note 12. 20 RFE/RL, “Ukrainian President Reaffi rms Euro-Atlantic Aspirations,” 20 October 2005,

http://www.rferl.org/newsline/2005/10/201005.asp; RFE/RL, “Georgia Speaker Upbeat on Chances of Joining NATO,” 14 April 2005, http://www.rferl.org/features/features_Article.aspx?m=04&y=2005&id=2CE0A2BF-A54E-4578-8B66-A88909729C76.

21 Robert Parsons, “Russia–Poland: Assaults Add New Sour Note to Rivalry,” RFE/RL, 12 August 2005, http://www.rferl.org/features/features_Article.aspx?m=08&y=2005&id=AEC0C4B0-A11B-4C52-AF35-40342813EF45.

22 Andrew Tully, “Yushchenko, Bush Proclaim Shared Values in Talks,” RFE/RL, 4 April 2005, http://www.rferl.org/featuresarticleprint/2005/04/4f5fb885-88ae-469b-a2be-4d94b6c9004c.html.

23 New York Times, 5 July 1997. 24 MacFarlane, Supra, note 6. 25 NATO Fact Sheets, “NATO–Russia Relations,” 11 June 2002, Declaration by Heads of

State and Government of NATO Member States and the Russian Federation, “NATO-Russia Relations: A New Quality,” 28 May 2002, http://www.nato.int/docu/basictxt/b020528e.htm.

26 Ahto Lobjakas, “NATO–Russia: Past Rifts Resurface as Both Sides Struggle to Build Ties,” RFE/RL, 29 June 2004, http://www.rferl.org/featuresarticleprint/2004/06/dc713d58-aaf2-4632-9df4-90252ce7d8d0.html.

27 Personal interview with Victor Kochukov, Senior Counselor, Embassy of Russia, Brussels, Belgium, 30 December 2004.

28 Ibid. 29 Keith Smith, Russian Energy Politics in the Baltics, Poland and Ukraine: A New Stealth

Imperialism (Washington, D.C.: CSIS, December 2004), pp. 41–2. 30 Richard Bernstein, “After Centuries of Enmity, Relations Between Poland and Russia

Are as Bad as Ever,” New York Times, 3 July 2005. 31 Ibid. 32 Ibid. 33 Pavel Felgenhauer, “Russia Still Has Not Atoned,” Moscow Times, 3 August 2004. 34 RFE/RL Newsline, “Russia,” 25 April 2005, http://www.rferl.org/newsline/2005/

04/250405.asp. 35 Reuters, “Clashes over Red Army monument continue in Estonia,” International Herald

Tribune, 28 April 2007, http://www.iht.com/articles/2007/04/28/europe/web0428-


estonia-41376.php; Associated Press, “Estonians Lay Flowers at WWII Monument,” The Washington Post, 8 May 2007, http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/05/08/AR2007050800288.htmlhttp://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/05/08/AR2007050800288.html.

36 Chivers, Supra, note 12. 37 Personal interview with Dr Jerzy Nowak, Ambassador of Poland to NATO, Brussels,

Belgium, 16 December 2004. 38 Robert Legvold, “Russian Foreign Policy Ten Years After the Fall,” Congressional

Program, Aspen Institute, Vol. 16, No. 4, August 2001, pp. 7–8. 39 Lynch, Supra, note 5, p. 101. 40 Pravda, “Referendum in France to Aggravate Russia’s Relations with EU,” 31 May

2005, http://english.pravda.ru/russia/politics/31-05-2005/8337-europe-0. 41 Ibid. 42 Iraq Watch, “Interview with Vladimir Putin,” 11 February 2003, http://www.iraqwatch.

org/government/Russia/russia-mfa-putin-021103.htm. 43 Nowak, Supra, note 37; personal interview with SE Benoit d’Aboville, Ambassador of

France to NATO, Brussels, Belgium, 16 December 2004. 44 Gateway to Russia, “’Evident” Crisis in EU–Russia Relations,” 22 July 2005, http://

www.gateway2russia.com/st/art_275177.php. 45 Ibid. 46 Viktor Kuvaldin, “Does Growing Anti-Americanism in Russia Pose a More Serious

Threat to the U.S. or to Us?” Nezavisimaya gazeta, 12 May 2001. 47 Associated Press, “Economy Big Challenge for Germany’s New Leader,” USA Today,

22 November 2005, http://www.usatoday.com/news/world/2005-11-22-german-chancellor_x.htm.

48 Heather Maher, “U.S.–Russia: Hopes High, Expectations Low For Bush–Putin Summit,” RFE/RL, 29 June 2007, http://www.rferl.org/features/features_Article.aspx?m=06&y=2007&id=1F7002CB-A961-4BAE-BB9E-1DA689F4F663.

49 Jim Rutenberg, “Putin Expands on His Missile Defense Plan,” New York Times, 3 July2007, http://nytimes.com/2007/07/03/us/03putin.html.

50 Reuters, “Russia Says Has Not ‘Slammed the Door’ on Arms Pact,” New York Times,20 July 2007, http://www.nytimes.com/reuters/world/international-russia-nato-cfe

51 New York Times, “Bush Warms to Putin Plan on Iran,” 18 November 2005. 52 RFE/RL, Features, “Russia–U.S.: With Bush–Putin Summit Over, Reaction Mixed Over

What Was Achieved,” 25 February 2005, http://www.rferl.org/features/features_Article.aspx?m=02&y=2005&id=414E34DD-E8E2-48AC-B3D0-B12B32FE2FD8.

53 Sheryl Gay Stolberg, “Chastising Putin, Bush Says Russia Derails Reform,” New York Times, 6 June 2007, http://www.nytimes.com/2007/06/06/world/europe/06prexy.html.

54 Nowak, Supra, note 37. 55 Personal interview with Artis Pabriks, Minister of Foreign Affairs of the Republic of

Latvia, Riga, Latvia, 1 August 2005. 56 Daniel Braun, NATO Enlargement and the Politics of Identity, 2007 (Martello Paper

#31, Kingston, ON: Queen’s Centre for International Relations) pp. 43–9. 57 Nowak, Supra, note 37.

70 A. Braun

58 Artis Pabriks, Supra, note 55. 59 Don Hill, “Europe: Scholar Says Europe’s Security Policy Becoming ‘Easternized’,”

RFE/RL, 15 November 2004, http://www.rferl.org/featuresarticleprint/2004/11/800e4609-c37c-4524-8297-5eb8ad5dd438.html.

60 RFE/RL, “Romania Says Agreement Near on U.S. Military Base,” 24 October 2005, http://www.rferl.org/features/features_Article.aspx?m=02&y=2005&id=414E34DD-E8E2-48AC-B3D0-B12B32FE2FD8.

61 Nowak, Supra, note 37. 62 Aleksander Kwasniewski, Keynote Address, “Europe – Our Common Home,” Opening

Ceremony of the VII ICEES World Congress, 25 July 2005. 63 Ibid. 64 Judy Dempsey, “Warsaw Mayor Is Poised to Win Runoff in Poland,” New York Times,

24 October 2005, http://www.nytimes.com/2005/10/24/international/europe/24poland.html; Judy Dempsey, “Kaczynski is Elected Presidentin Poland,” International Herald Tribune, 24 October 2004, http://www.iht.com/articles/2005/10/23/news/poland.php.

65 Kommersant (Moscow), “U.S. Base Construction in Poland to Begin on Eve of Russian Elections,” 19 July 2007, http://www.kommersant.com/p783639/missile_defense/.

66 Ibid. 67 RFE/RL Features, “U.S.–Russia: Zbigniew Brzezinski Assesses U.S.–Russia Relations,”

11 May 2005, http://www.rferl.org/features/features_Article.aspx?m=05&y=2005&id=B62307E1-832C-4FBC-AB91-BA8FA7A0EB24.

68 Stephen Larrabee, “Danger and Opportunity in Eastern Europe,” Foreign Affairs,November–December 2006, http://www.foreignaffairs.org/20061101faessay85610/f-stephen-larrabee/danger-and-opportunity-in-eastern-europe.html.

69 Friedberg Pfl uger, Address, “Europe – Our Common Home,” Opening Ceremony of the VII ICEES World Congress, 25 July 2005.

70 Personal interview with Bertrand Besancenot, Diplomatic Councillor, Ministry of Defense of France, Paris, France, 5 August 2005.

71 Personal interview with Evelyn Mathey, Associate Director of NATO Bureau for Europe and the Atlantic Alliance, Ministry of Defense of France, Paris, France, 9 August 2005.

72 Michael Mandelbaum, The Case for Goliath: How America Acts as the World’s Government in the Twenty-first Century (New York: Public Affairs, 2005) pp. 203–12.

73 Personal communication with Thomas Gomart, Paris, France, 9 August 2005. 74 Ibid. 75 Lynch, Supra, note 5, p. 99. 76 Kochukov, Supra, note 27. 77 Benoit d’Aboville, Supra, note 43. 78 Besancenot, Supra, note 70; personal interview with Serge Smessow, Assistant Director

for Continental Europe, Ministry of Foreign Affairs of France, Paris, France, 8 August 2005.

79 Personal interview with Dr Rudiger Reyels, Ambassador of Germany to NATO, Brussels, Belgium, 15 December 2004.

80 Smesnow, Supra, note 78.


81 Thomas Risse-Kappan, Cooperation Among Democracies: The European Infl uence on U.S. Foreign Policy (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1995), pp. 6–41, 188–91.

82 Valerie Bunce, Subversive Institutions: The Design and the Destruction of Socialism and the State (Cambridge, UK, Cambridge University Press, 1999) p. 12.

83 Gomart, Supra, note 73. 84 Smessow, Supra, note 78.

5 NATO beyond Russia

Stanley R. Sloan

The impact of enlargement and transformation

As a result of NATO’s post-Cold War enlargement and the evolving transformation of the missions and methods of the Alliance, NATO could be said to have moved beyond Russia. Russia is no longer the primary security concern for the Alliance, even though Russia’s evolution remains an important variable in Europe’s future. This process of change began in the early 1990s as the NATO allies reacted to the emerging reality that the Soviet Union and the Warsaw Pact no longer existed as threats to their security. The process moved an important step down the road during the debate on the fi rst phase of NATO enlargement. That debate foreshad-owed some of the challenges facing the Alliance today as controversy continues about whether or not NATO’s enlargement and the simultaneous expansion of its responsibilities have ensured or threatened its future.

This analysis begins by recalling briefl y some of the arguments put forward in the 1998 US Senate debate concerning the impact of enlargement on NATO’s relations with Russia and on the ability of the Alliance to take decisions that respond to the security requirements of its members. This leads to an assessment of the current health of and future outlook for the Alliance, as it moves beyond Russia, and even Europe, on the way to becoming an alliance with global missions.

The bottom line in analysis of the NATO–Russia relationship is that enlarge-ment has troubled but not destroyed a cooperative relationship between the Alliance and Russia – it did not lead to a “new Cold War.” Political developments in Russia – with no connection to NATO’s enlargement process – have turned out to be far more important to the relationship than the addition of former Warsaw Pact allies and the Baltic Republics to the Alliance.

Russia’s future nonetheless remains critically important to the NATO allies. Neither the United States nor any European ally wishes to see Russia re-emerge as a challenge to Europe’s peace and stability. NATO policies therefore have for the most part been designed to invite Russia’s constructive involvement in European and global security affairs while at the same time critiquing Moscow’s recent tendencies to reverse the process of democratization and liberalization that began after the Soviet Union was dissolved.

Moreover, this essay argues that NATO has not been brought down by the process of enlargement and can still function as a framework for coordinating

NATO beyond Russia 73

responses to the security needs of its members. This will remain true as long as the allies – individually and collectively, and most importantly the United States – continue to believe that such cooperation is in their interest. The biggest challenge to the Alliance, therefore, is not Russia, nor even terrorism, Iraq, Iran or the Middle East more generally, but rather that of maintaining suffi cient transatlantic cohesion to deal with these and other issues most effectively.

The enlargement step

In September 1995, after several years of telling East European aspirants to NATO membership that they should be “patient,” the allies released the Study on NATO Enlargement which explained why enlargement was warranted.1 It also drew out a road map for countries seeking membership to follow on their way to the open door. The report said that enlargement would support NATO’s broader goal of enhancing security and extending stability throughout the Euro-Atlantic area. It would support the process of democratization and establishment of market economic systems in candidate countries. The allies asserted that enlargement would threaten no one, because NATO would remain a defensive alliance whose fundamental purpose is to preserve peace and provide security to its members.

With regard to the “how” of enlargement, the allies established a framework of principles to follow, including: new members should assume all the rights and respon sibilities of current members, and accept the policies and procedures in effect at the time of their entry; no country should enter with the goal of closing the door behind it, using its vote as a member to block other candidates; countries should resolve ethnic disputes or external territorial disputes before joining NATO; candidates should be able to contribute to the missions of the Alliance; and no country outside the Alliance – Russia, for example – would have the right to interfere with the process. The allies, at a summit meeting in Madrid in July 1997, invited the Czech Republic, Hungary and Poland to join the Alliance.

The US Senate debate on NATO’s future

As the Clinton administration began preparing to shepherd the resolution of rati fi -cation through the US Senate, it faced the challenge of holding together a coalition of Senate supporters and potential supporters who were motivated by substantially different assumptions and objectives.2 Supporters ranged from conservative Republicans to liberal Democrats. The arguments raised by both supporters and opponents identifi ed the most critical issues ahead of the Alliance.

Senator Helms and a few other conservative Republican Senators saw NATO enlargement fi rst and foremost as an insurance policy against a resurgent Russia laying claim once again to the sovereignty of central and eastern European states. Senator Helms was particularly interested in how the administration saw the future of NATO–Russia relations. In the process of introducing Secretary of State Madeleine Albright at the committee’s opening enlargement hearing, Helms cautioned “… NATO’s relations with Russia must be restrained by the reality that

74 S.R. Sloan

Russia’s future commitment to peace and democracy, as of this date, is far from certain. In fact, I confess a fear that the United States’ overture toward Russia may have already gone a bit far.”3

In addition, many Senators had not signed off on “the new NATO” (in which members cooperated to deal with new security challenges, including peace opera-tions in the Balkans) and believed that the “old NATO” (focused primarily on Article 5, the commitment to assist a fellow member that has come under attack) was what was still needed. On the other hand, some Senators found the “old NATO” to be of decreasing relevance, and were more interested in the idea of expanding the number of democratic states that could help deal with new security challenges in and beyond Europe.

The Senate opponents of enlargement were also all over the map politically and philosophically. Senator John Warner (R – Virginia) became one of the most severe critics of enlargement. He believed that too many members would make the Alliance impossible to manage and would doom it to future irrelevance because it would be unable to make timely consensual decision with 19-plus members (an argument that some analysts now say was on target4).

The most strongly committed enlargement opponent, Senator John Ashcroft (R – Missouri), simply believed that the United States was already overburdened and that NATO enlargement would perpetuate a responsibility that had long ago outlived its utility. Among the opponents, Ashcroft’s position came closest to representing a neo-isolationist perspective.

The other main school of thought motivating opponents of enlargement was concern about the impact on relations with Russia. George Kennan, the highly respected Russia expert who played a major role in developing the US containment strategy toward the Soviet Union, had opined5 that NATO enlargement would be a disaster for US–Russian relations, and some members, including Senators Paul Wellstone (D – Minnesota) and Patrick Leahy (D – Vermont) cast their votes against enlargement largely based on Kennan’s warning.6

In the end, the politically-diverse coalition of enlargement supporters rode to an 80 to 19 victory in the Senate, giving the Senate’s advice and consent to ratifi cation of the protocol to the North Atlantic Treaty that would bring the Czech Republic, Hungary and Poland into the Alliance.

NATO’s evolving relationship with Russia

When the Soviet Union imploded at the end of the Cold War, the United States and its European allies concluded that even though this founding threat was also disappearing, the cooperation that had developed over the years was not only based on solid common values and interests, but also had continuing utility in a post-Soviet world.

Nevertheless, Russia remained a major factor in allied calculations. In spite of Russia’s devastated economy and military forces, so weakened as to be incapable of putting down rebellion in the former Soviet Republic of Chechnya, Russia remained a world-class nuclear power with a natural resource base that could serve


as the foundation for future economic growth and renewed strategic signifi cance. The development of a liberal democratic system in Russia would constitute a dramatic gain for international peace and stability. An autocratic, deprived and dissatisfi ed Russia would constitute a major source of instability for the indefi nite future. As a consequence, the transatlantic allies moved carefully throughout the 1990s trying to assess how steps that they were taking to adapt their alliance would affect and be affected by Russia.

NATO reached out to Russia as it moved toward including the Soviet Union’s former Central and East European “allies” in the Western security system. Russia was offered participation in NATO’s partnership program. Then, in the context of the fi rst round of NATO enlargement, was given a special relationship to the Alliance with the negotiation of “The Founding Act on Mutual Relations, Cooperation and Security between NATO and the Russia Federation,” establishing a Permanent Joint Council (PJC) – NATO nations plus Russia – as a framework for continuing consultations.

Russia’s acceptance of the PJC was always grudging. Russian leaders wanted something more – something that would more directly acknowledge Russia’s importance in European security. The NATO countries, on the other hand, did not want to give Russia a direct say in NATO deliberations and certainly not a veto over NATO actions – a concern directly expressed by American conservatives during the 1990s debate on NATO enlargement.

However, Vladimir Putin has, over time, led Russia toward a pragmatic and even constructive relationship with NATO. The most important stimulus was provided by the September 11 terrorist attacks and Putin’s offer of assistance in the US-declared war against terrorism. Putin’s position clearly helped strengthen his relationship with President Bush, and facilitated work toward agreements on dramatic cuts in strategic nuclear weapons arsenals and possible agreements on missile defenses. Putin also hinted at new Russian perspectives on its relationship to NATO and Russia’s attitude toward NATO enlargement.

In November 2001, it was Bush’s political ally, Prime Minister Tony Blair, who started the ball rolling toward a new Russia–NATO relationship by proposing creation of an updated forum for Russia–NATO cooperation. Blair, in a letter to NATO Secretary General George Robertson, suggested creation of a “Russia–North Atlantic Council” which would take decisions by consensus on certain issues affecting both NATO and Russia including, for example, terrorism, arms proliferation and peacekeeping. According to press reports, British officials suggested privately that post-9/11 events could lead to a new world order, ending old enmities and building new bridges. “The prime minister believes the fact that the world is such a different place since September 11 does give us opportunities as well as threats,” one offi cial said.7

Apparently with the blessing of the Bush administration, Secretary General Robertson put the idea forward during an offi cial visit to Moscow. Headlines shouted “Russia Could Get Veto Power in New NATO.”8 Russian conservatives worried that Putin was about to give away the store, while other Russian analysts speculated that the move would give Russia associate membership in the Alliance.

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American conservatives remained concerned that the move might end NATO’s useful existence. Polish observers fretted that this might be the fi rst step toward Russian membership in NATO. French observers wondered if events were moving too fast for rational consideration of their consequences.

Two former officials responsible for Clinton NATO enlargement policy, Jeremy D. Rosner and Ronald D. Asmus, argued for simply revitalizing current NATO–Russia relations: “Mr Putin has complained that the existing NATO–Russia relationship is moribund. He is right. But the reason why it is moribund is that Russia walked away from the table in protest over NATO’s air campaign in Kosovo and has since pursued an obstructionist policy. That fact alone should give us pause. There is nothing wrong with the NATO–Russia Permanent Joint Council that a dose of good will and hard work could not fi x.”9

On 6 December 2001, in spite of such arguments, the allies agreed to establish a new NATO–Russia council to identify and pursue opportunities for joint action between Russia and the NATO allies. The ministers made it clear that the new council would not give Russia a veto over NATO decisions.

Agreement on the new arrangements was confi rmed at a NATO–Russia summit outside Rome, Italy on 28 May 2002. The Permanent Joint Council was replaced by a new Russia–NATO Council. The new council was intended to meet more regularly, and to make decisions on some subjects. However, the regular agenda of the North Atlantic Council would not be shifted to the new framework. The NAC would decide when issues should be submitted to decision by the NATO–Russia Council and when they should be kept within usual NATO decision-making channels. Unlike the PJC, however, the allies would not bring “pre-cooked” NATO positions to the table with Russia. If the new council became deadlocked on an issue because of Russian disagreement, this would not bloc the NATO members from acting in the NAC without Russian agreement or participation. Lord Robertson argued that the real differences between the former arrangement and the new forum was a matter of “chemistry rather than arithmetic, as even the best format and seating arrangements can be no substitute for genuine political will and open mind on both sides.”10

In spite of the new consultative arrangements, resentment of NATO’s enlarge-ment to include the three former Soviet republics of Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania persisted in some Russian quarters. In March 2004, Russia’s lower house of parliament adopted a resolution denouncing NATO enlargement and the deployment of four Belgian F-16 fi ghter jets to a Lithuanian air base to patrol the air space of the new Baltic members of NATO. This, however, did not stop President Putin just one week later from signing agreements with NATO Secretary General Jaap de Hoop Scheffer establishing Russian military liaison offi ces at NATO’s top military headquarters.

Just as creation of the Permanent Joint Council with Russia accompanied and facilitated the fi rst round of NATO enlargement, development of the new NATO–Russia Council paralleled implementation of NATO’s most recent enlargement round. The step did not presage imminent Russian membership in the Alliance. Militarily, Russia obviously could make major contributions to the Alliance.


However, Russia’s size and importance suggested that geopolitical factors would play a large role in deciding when Russia might be acceptable as a member.

Politically, Russia remains a long way from meeting the guidelines for mem-bership laid out in NATO’s 1995 Study on Enlargement. Russia falls far short particularly in terms of the internal development of liberal democratic institutions, including a free press and a Western-style human rights regime. If Russia some day meets these guidelines, there truly will be a “new world order” and Russia should then be considered a legitimate candidate for membership. Recent developments, however, have not been encouraging. President Putin has increasingly adopted an autocratic approach to governance in Moscow. Using the struggle against Chechyn separatists as the rationale, Putin has begun re-centralizing power. In 2004, he involved himself actively in the presidential election campaign in Ukraine, support-ing the pro-Moscow candidate against the more Western-oriented opposition.

In July 2006, as Putin continued consolidating power, Russia hosted the G8 economic summit – the annual gathering of the leaders of the world’s industrial powers. Russia became a full participant in the G8 in 1998, having been invited partly to encourage and facilitate Russia’s democratization and modernization process as well as to acknowledge Russia’s natural resource base and nuclear weapons capabilities (at the time, Russia was just the 17th leading industrial power). In Moscow, the G8 leaders sought and accomplished a non-controversial meeting, generally regarded as a success for the host government.11

Taken together, these developments suggest that Russia’s internal and foreign policies may occasionally move Moscow toward closer relations with the NATO allies while at other times causing problems in the relationship. On balance, the Russia–NATO relationship is likely to experience many ups and downs in the years ahead, and will challenge the NATO allies to try to prevent the lows from leading toward anything that could be considered a “new Cold War” with their important Russian “partner.”

NATO beyond Russia …

At the opening of the twenty-fi rst century, in spite of the mixed outlook for future NATO–Russia relations, NATO had moved well beyond its former Russian preoccupation. The allies were already focusing on security challenges that did not pose existential threats in the near term but which were much more complex both in interpretation and response than the Soviet threat had been. As NATO was still trying to reorganize itself to deal with this new environment, the combination of the 9/11 terrorist attacks and the Iraq crisis in Euro-Atlantic relations came as close to breaking the transatlantic bargain as any set of developments since the Treaty of Washington was signed in 1949. The events and subsequent developments in the Alliance brought one NATO analyst to suggest, “… NATO has become an obstacle and not a solution to contemporary security problems.”12 The fact that the Alliance remains in business nonetheless testifi es to the fundamental necessities of US–European cooperation.

Before looking toward the future, it may be helpful to establish where the

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Alliance stands today with regard to the three important areas of adaptation that Alliance leaders identifi ed in 1991 – cooperation and dialogue, responding to the new security environment, and strengthening Europe’s role in the Alliance.

Dialogue, cooperation and partnership

NATO has remained true to its pledge to continue to expand its membership to qualifi ed European states and develop cooperation with other European and Mediterranean countries. The addition of seven new members, celebrated at the June 2004 summit in Istanbul, will not be the end of the enlargement process. At least a few other European countries probably will join in the years ahead. The continued process of stabilizing the Balkans could lead to membership for Macedonia, Croatia, Montenegro and Albania during this decade and, at some point, even Serbia. As for EU members Austria, Finland, Sweden and Ireland, the US–European and internal European divisions over Iraq may have provided additional reasons for these countries not to apply for NATO membership in the near future. In the meantime, partnerships with NATO provide a way for countries to participate in NATO programs at a time when membership might not be an option as well as helping those who seek membership to get prepared to apply.

Now that NATO has taken on a more demanding mission in Afghanistan, pressures are developing for expanding the partnership concept well beyond any geographic limits to include any and all democratic nations. Some analysts have even suggested this process should go beyond partnership to include possible membership for countries like Australia, Brazil, Japan, India, New Zealand, South Africa and South Korea.13

With regard to Russia and Ukraine, neither is likely to join the Alliance in the near future, but NATO’s approach to partnership and cooperation with these impor tant European states and other former Soviet republics guarantees a con-tinuing dialogue and cooperation on a wide range of issues. The dark cloud on the horizon is the apparent drift of Russia back toward an authoritarian regime with the trappings of democracy. Such tendencies are most alarming to NATO countries around Russia’s borders. The Poles, for example, remain particularly concerned that Russia will use its role as a key energy supplier to Europe as a way of holding Poland, Ukraine and other states hostage to Russian interests. Many West European states, also concerned about how Russia intends to use the leverage gained from its energy supplier position, have been reluctant to criticize Russia too strongly or publicly, perhaps judging that quiet diplomacy will work best with Putin or, seen less generously, reluctant to offend an important energy supplier at a time when other sources are potentially in jeopardy.

Nonetheless, the new German government led by Angela Merkel has not been reluc tant to express Berlin’s concerns about internal Russian developments and Moscow’s use of energy as a less-than-benign source of infl uence in European politics.

Ukraine, on the other hand, could pose additional challenges for the Russia–NATO relationship by reforming itself suffi ciently to be considered a viable


candidate for NATO membership toward the end of this decade. The Ukrainian population and political parties remain divided between those who wish to continue a close rela tionship with Russia and those who hope that political, institutional and economic ties with the West will ensure Ukraine’s independence from Russian infl uence. At this point, such political divisions and recent political instability in Ukraine have greatly diminished the chances that Ukraine will be invited to join NATO at a planned NATO summit in 2008, as pro-Western forces in Kiev had hoped.

NATO’s outreach to the Mediterranean will become increasingly important as the Alliance is considered for possible peace operation roles in the broader Middle East. NATO’s Mediterranean dialogue is already making important contributions to building up the credibility of the Alliance as a potential contributor to peace and stability in that region, and complements European Union outreach in the region.

Responding to the new security environment

The most important change in NATO in recent years has been the post-9/11 acknowl edg ment that NATO’s role cannot be limited to Europe. Most of the threats to the interests of NATO countries now arise beyond Europe, and the European allies have accepted that NATO must be prepared to deal with those challenges if it is to remain relevant. Moreover, NATO’s military organization looks little like it did during the Cold War. The creation of a “transformation” command should help the Alliance keep up with the rapid pace of technological and doctrinal developments that fl ow in particular from the US military establishment. NATO’s new military structures should facilitate adaptation to new missions, including very demanding ones beyond Europe in Afghanistan, Iraq, and perhaps elsewhere in the broader Middle East.

The allies have created a NATO Response Force (NRF) intended to bring together highly capable air, sea and land units, largely from the European allies, to respond quickly and effectively to future military challenges, no matter where they may arise. The political signifi cance of the force is huge. It is a clear statement that NATO is prepared to act anywhere in the world in support of Alliance interests. In addition, such a force could help stimulate European efforts to bring at least some portions of their forces up to the level to be able to operate effectively with hi-tech US forces. The most likely arena for such a force would be the Middle and Near East regions, but this need not exclude Africa, the Caucasus or another region should the need arise and the UN Security Council grant a mandate. The NRF is being designed to respond to a military crisis, and any intervention would have to be accompanied by a post-confl ict plan for transition to a peacekeeping presence, freeing up the NRF for other more demanding situations.

Prior to the emergence of a contingency, the allies need to conduct realistic and detailed contingency planning at the political and military levels. Only by so doing will they be able to anticipate the issues and obstacles they might encounter in a real-world scenario. Beyond preparing the forces for such contingencies, the most important step for the allies is to hold constant and substantive consultations

80 S.R. Sloan

on emerging security challenges to help prepare for decisions on whether or not to use the force when they are required.

The question now is whether the allies will provide suffi cient forces for NATO’s new missions. According to Supreme Allied Commander General David Jones, the NATO mission in Afghanistan has not received suffi cient numbers of troops from allied nations.14

Both Russia and Ukraine, if they so choose, could be helpful partners for NATO in its new missions, even if they do not seek or qualify for membership in the near future. Both countries have already worked with NATO forces in the Balkans, and they have the military potential to make important focused contributions to future NATO operations. That Ukraine will volunteer future contributions seems assured. Similar cooperation between NATO and Russia could help mitigate Moscow’s inbred mistrust of NATO’s purposes and intentions, contributing further to moving beyond Cold War perceptions and attitudes. On the other hand, Moscow will undoubtedly remain suspicious of any steps – for example, military action against Iran – that could bring US military power closer to its borders.

Strengthening Europe’s role

Europe is no longer part of the problem with which NATO must grapple; it now has to fi gure how to become an effective part of the solution. This is true for Russia as well as for the European allies of the United States.

There has been progress on both the organizational and the capabilities fronts. The members of the European Union have created the potential for the EU members to enhance their military cooperation in every area of defense endeavors, from strategic planning to weapons systems development to training and exercising to deployment of forces in combined and joint operations. The major European powers know what needs to be done to improve their military forces to be able to work and fi ght effectively alongside their American ally. The question remains whether political leaders will provide suffi cient resources for this to happen.

There will always be room, of course, for US–European and intra-European differences about the correct balance in relations between NATO and the European Union. The challenge for leaders on both sides of the Atlantic will be to ensure that petty bickering and infl ated institutional or national egos do not get in the way of practical cooperation. However, US–European differences over how to work toward peace in the Middle East and how best to reduce the terrorist threat over time will raise serious policy issues that will have to be compromised in order for NATO–EU institutional arrangements in principle to work well in practice.

NATO after Iraq

Where do the Euro-Atlantic allies go now, having suffered through a period of deep political divisions while at the same time mandating dramatic changes in NATO’s mission and improving NATO–EU working relationships?


Tackle terrorism together

In spite of the differences over Iraq, few would question how important it will be to ensure that the members of the Atlantic Community stay united and strong against the sources of international terrorism. NATO’s initial response to the September 11 attacks on the United States was impressive and appropriate, but also refl ects some limitations on the Alliance that will infl uence its future role.

Most observers of transatlantic security issues remember the debates in the 1990s, particularly those leading up to NATO’s 1999 strategic concept, in which the United States sought a NATO mandate without artifi cial geographic limitations while many European countries wanted to prevent the appearance of an “open-ended” role for the Alliance in dealing with future security challenges. The September 11 events demonstrated that the United States was right concerning the nature of future threats to transatlantic security – most of them have roots outside Europe and must be dealt with well beyond NATO’s borders.

However, the differing perspectives among NATO members, and between NATO and Russia, concerning the best instruments to employ against disparate threats have not disappeared. They are based on fundamentally different historical experiences, political and military traditions, and available power and military capabilities. Britain and France have force projection philosophies and global strategic perspectives. But Germany’s concepts and perspectives will continue to inhibit the Federal Republic’s military role beyond its borders, in spite of the dramatic progress Berlin has made in breaking out of outdated constraints on the use of its forces since the end of the Cold War.15 Russia is engaged in a struggle with Chechen rebels, seen by Moscow as terrorists but by some in the West as “freedom fi ghters,” responding to Russian oppression. Such differing perceptions will, on occasion, make consensus and cooperation diffi cult to fi nd, in NATO and between NATO countries and Russia. The challenge will be to keep the Alliance and NATO–Russia partnership on track in spite of the inevitable disagreements on military tactics and political strategies.

If, however, the war against international terrorism remains for some years the main focus of US security policy, NATO’s ability to be part of the solution could exert a major infl uence on US perceptions of the Alliance’s utility. It seems likely that the United States, in spite of unilateralist temptations in Washington, will want to ensure that the response to the terrorist attacks strengthens America’s most important alliance instead of undermining it. Europeans, in spite of their skepticism about the US approach to the war on terrorism, will not want to risk diminished US support for the Alliance specifi cally and transatlantic cooperation more generally.

Maintaining Alliance cohesion will require sophisticated political management on both sides of the Atlantic. The United States will have to be careful to ask allies to do things that they are capable of doing. At the same time, the NATO allies must avoid at all cost the perception that they do not support the United States in responding to the terrorist threat. For NATO’s European members, not doing enough risks losing US interest in the Alliance. For the United States, trying to push the Alliance beyond the political consensus concerning NATO’s mission could

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create splits among the allies and even domestic unrest in some allied countries. In any case, the struggle against international terrorism could for many years remain the most important part of the strategic environment in which the NATO allies deal with every issue they face as allies.

Make NATO a useful alliance toolbox

Some European observers have objected to what they see as the US desire to turn NATO into a toolbox from which the United States would draw resources to complement its own in future military operations. This perception grows reasonably enough out of the George W. Bush administration’s articulated view that, in dealing with future security challenges, “the mission determines the coalition,” implying that a standing alliance like NATO has become of secondary importance. During the Iraq crisis, the United States appeared to follow this doctrine, “cherry-picking” allies and capabilities for an ad hoc coalition rather than making a serious effort to bring the entire NATO Alliance on board.

If the United States were regularly to follow such an approach, NATO would soon be out of business even if it has gone “out of area.” As Klaus Naumann has observed, “… to believe that NATO could survive if it were used by the US as a toolbox which will allow the US to select and pick allies on a case by case basis is highly questionable in a situation in which the US allies are no longer confronted with an existential threat.”16 Perhaps reacting to such arguments made by good friends of the United States like General Naumann, even the multilaterally challenged Bush administration seemed to have discovered that working with allies through an alliance like NATO can have advantages.

The practical reality is that NATO should be a toolbox in the sense that the habits of cooperation and common programs that have been built up in NATO should produce advantages for all the allies in dealing with future security challenges. Moreover, NATO’s toolbox is not just available to the United States: the Berlin Plus arrangements have set NATO up as a potential toolbox for the European Union to use. Ad hoc coalitions, led by the United States or by France or Great Britain, can benefi t from the capabilities that have developed through NATO cooperation. The point is that the fi rst resort for the United States and the members of the European Union should be to act as an alliance to take maximum advantage of the tools in NATO’s box. Such tools will only be developed and preserved if there is a shared sense that they are to the advantage of the entire Alliance.

Be wary of proposals to change NATO’s decision-making process

The divisive debate early in 2002 over whether or not NATO would commit itself to helping Turkey if that ally were attacked in the course of hostilities with Iraq left deep scars on the Alliance. In response, the US Senate by a vote of 96 to 0 passed a “Sense of the Senate” resolution in May 2003 suggesting the United States look for ways to enable NATO to act without a full consensus and to suspend diffi cult members from Alliance decision making.17 Proponents argued that, the Turkish


debate aside, a NATO that now has 26 members and is likely to have more in the future may have an increasingly diffi cult time reaching a meaningful consensus. Sean Kay has argued that “… the key to making NATO more relevant is to reform its decision-making procedures so that one or two dissenting countries cannot block the entire institution from acting when its capacities are needed.”18 Kay laments the fact that such reforms will not be possible, and that NATO is therefore destined to become irrelevant. However, NATO has always been an alliance of sovereign states based on cooperation, not supranational integration. It has always been a challenge to get all the members behind any one idea or operation. The “good old days” of the Cold War certainly helped the allies compromise, but the process often required good diplomacy not only by the Alliance leader but by other powers as well.

Moreover, the consensus “rule” has been constructively bent in the past. For example, when the Dutch took footnotes to language about NATO nuclear policy in the 1980s; Greece abstained constructively (not supporting but not blocking) on NATO’s attack on Serbian forces in Kosovo; and when, in the 2003 Turkish case, the decision was moved to the Defense Planning Committee, with German and Belgian acquiescence, to avoid a French veto in the North Atlantic Council.

As Leo Michel has concluded in his excellent study of the issue, “The [consensus] rule, as practised thus far, has not paralyzed the Alliance in the Balkans or Afghanistan. With some relatively straightforward adjustments – for example, according greater contingency operational planning authority to the SACEUR or Secretary General … – the rule, like NATO itself, can continue to adapt to the 21st century security environment.”19

As Michel suggests, one important “fl exing” of NATO’s consensus procedure could be to ensure that NATO commanders are delegated suffi cient authority to run a military operation without frequent resort to the North Atlantic Council for detailed guidance, as was the case in the air war against Serbia over Kosovo. If there is a compelling case for NATO to act, effective diplomacy and leadership on both sides of the Atlantic in most cases will produce a consensus or at least a situation in which no country will veto. Perhaps a good “fi rst case” in this regard came when six allies allowed NATO training of Iraqi security personnel to go ahead even though they were unwilling to provide military offi cers to staff NATO’s training facility in Iraq.

Moreover, it seems quite unlikely that NATO members – least of all the United States – will want the Alliance to become a supranational body rather than a cooperative framework among sovereign states. In such a case, the consensus procedure clearly will need to be fl exed from time to time, as it has been in the past, but it seems unlikely to be “fi xed.”

On the question of suspending troublesome members, any attempt to give formal consideration to such a procedure would be divisive in the extreme and not worth the trouble. If NATO is not able to function in the future because of the obstinance of one or more members then the Alliance will slip toward irrelevance. Chances are, if the United States and the European allies continue to see NATO cooperation as in their interest, they will fi nd ways to compromise diffi cult issues

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and to move ahead, using ad hoc coalition approaches when absolutely necessary to get around opposition to making an operation a formal NATO mission.

Avoid a formal transatlantic division of labor

A division of labor approach to Alliance missions might also appear superfi cially attractive, given the current disparities between US and European military capabili-ties. In fact, however, any formal division of responsibilities in the Alliance (hard power tasks for the US, soft power jobs for the Europeans) would be disastrous for US–European security cooperation.

It does make sense for individual nations, or groups of nations, to take on specifi c tasks within the overall framework of Alliance cooperation. In fact, the special capacities that European allies have for managing stabilization and recon-struction activities could be usefully combined with the potent US ability for war fi ghting to develop a full spectrum of pre-confl ict, confl ict, and post-confl ict coalition activities. Such a division of tasks between the United States and Europe could have produced a much more effective approach to the defeat of Saddam Hussein and the rehabilitation of Iraq had it been possible to agree on a common trans atlantic strategy.

But a formal transatlantic division of responsibilities would create even bigger gaps between the United States and Europe concerning how best to respond to inter na tional security challenges. Such an approach would only encourage US tendencies toward the unilateral use of military force as well as European tendencies to believe that all problems can be solved without military force backing up diplomacy. The response to every future security challenge would have to over-come a growing transatlantic divergence in appreciation of the problem before cooperation could be arranged.

The bottom line is that there should be a practical division of tasks among the transatlantic partners, but not a formal division of labor across the Atlantic. Ideally, both American and European forces should be engaged in the high intensity and lower intensity ends of future confl icts, sharing responsibility for the strategies required for the entire continuum.20

Even though it was logical for the European Union to take over responsibili-ties for stability in the Balkans, the continuing security issues there, particularly in Kosovo, made it clear that NATO’s involvement in some form will remain critical to the long-term process of stabilization. Even before the European Union took command of the stabilization effort in Bosnia and Herzegovina, European nations provided the bulk of military forces there and in Kosovo. But the principle and wisdom of burden sharing, not dividing, suggests the United States should continue to contribute some troops to the international presence in this region just as Europeans must contribute troops to international stability efforts in Iraq, Afghanistan and elsewhere beyond Europe’s borders.


Rebuild a constructive transatlantic dialogue

The most immediate challenge to allies on both sides of the Atlantic is to rebuild a constructive dialogue to replace the destructive interactions that have characterized handling of the Iraq issue. This will require the United States to “speak more softly.” Everyone knows that the United States already carries the “biggest stick.”21 Future US administrations will be required to be more constructive and creative in the use of international institutions and multilateral cooperation than George W. Bush was in his fi rst term. The United Nations, with all its shortcomings, remains a critical forum for legitimizing international security efforts. As has been demonstrated by Iraq, US interests benefi t when it can gain the international support and assistance that political legitimization through the United Nations brings. In this context, Russia must also be factored into Washington’s calculations, given its permanent seat on the UN Security Council.

For their part, Europeans will have to bring more resources and capabilities to the transatlantic security table. The US–European relationship needs a better balance in terms of both authority and capability. However, it is not up to the United States to “give” Europe more authority. European nations and the European Union will wield greater infl uence in Washington and internationally based on their will and ability to contribute to solutions of international security problems. The decision by European nations to take the lead responsibility for the international peacekeeping force for Lebanon is an important step toward Europe assuming more responsibility for security in this critically important region.

One of the most diffi cult tasks will be rebuilding the US relationship with France, which was severely damaged by the Iraq debate. Not only did relations at the top levels of government suffer, but public opinion in the two countries moved decisively against the other. Both governments began moving toward reconciliation early in 2004,22 but it has been a slow and diffi cult process.

The US–French relationship has never been and may never be the most comfortable that either country has in its ties with other nations. However, the fact is that US and French interests in the world overlap more than they confl ict. As Guillaume Parmentier and Michael Brenner have observed, “France and the United States have been a quarrelsome pair, yet their mutual interests force them to work out the terms of a revived and thriving alliance.”23 Moreover, the United States knows that France not only can make serious trouble for its foreign and defense policy goals from its position on the UN Security Council and as a leading member of the European Union, but also can be a very helpful partner in dealing with future security challenges. For its part, France knows it cannot achieve its foreign and defense policy goals in permanent opposition to the United States, and that its interests are best served when the two countries cooperate. Both countries therefore have a strong mutual interest in moving beyond the Iraq crisis.

Build a new Euro-Atlantic front on Iraq, Iran and Middle East peace

One of the ways the allies can move beyond the divisive debate over Iraq is to establish new foundations of cooperation on issues of direct and immediate

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concern to their interests. Fighting terrorism has already been recognized as one of these areas. Even at the height of differences over Iraq, the United States and its European allies cooperated closely at many formal and informal levels to disrupt and destroy Al Qaeda cells, communication networks and fi nancial connections. There is no doubt that such cooperation will continue, even if the United States calls it a “war” and the Europeans view it as a “struggle.”

However, the fi ght against terrorism cannot succeed unless the allies also deal effectively with the stabilization in Iraq, containment of Iran’s nuclear weapons capabilities, and, perhaps most importantly, resolution of the Israeli–Palestinian dispute. The chances for effective collaboration appear to have been enhanced by a number of factors.

The European countries that opposed the war in Iraq know that a destabilized Iraq, which serves as a refuge and breeding ground for international terrorism, is contrary to their interests. The United States seems to have recognized that it will need help from the other major international players and from the United Nations to shepherd the process of Iraqi stabilization.

In Iran, European diplomatic efforts, backed up by the implicit threat that the United States and/or Israel could use force to try to prevent Iran from going nuclear, appeared to have made some progress in convincing Iran’s leadership to reconsider the costs and benefi ts of becoming a nuclear power. However, all bets came off in October 2005 when Iran’s president called for wiping Israel off the map, forcing the United States and the European powers to rethink the strategy in which the Europeans played the “good cop” while the United States stayed in the background holding the “bad cop” threat of military options. The Bush administration clearly believes Iran has decided to become a nuclear weapons state. Whether or not that conclusion is shared by the European countries, Russia and China will largely determine whether the international community will take effective, unifi ed action against Teheran. As long as there are questions about this issue, it will be diffi cult to keep the UN Security Council together. Deciding how to respond to Iran’s defi ant attitude will undoubtedly create tensions between the United States, which is determined to impose “consequences” on Iran for the decision, the Europeans, who undoubtedly will be less enthusiastic than the United States about sanctions against Iran, and Russia, which may well oppose any serious sanctions altogether.

With regard to the Israeli–Palestinian confl ict, Yasir Arafat’s passing created a possible opening for a political settlement. Even though the success or failure of peace efforts will rest primarily on the shoulders of the new Palestinian leaders and the Israeli government, the United States, Europe and Russia, working together, could help facilitate the process.

Continue to manage the transitions in Europe

At a time when most of the threats to allied security emanate well beyond Europe, the United States and the European allies should not lose track of important proc-esses of transition still underway in Europe that could affect their future security. First and foremost, the NATO countries need to manage their relationship with


Russia in ways that encourage the development of a democratic country that one day could be considered for NATO membership. There is much work left to be done, and undoubtedly many bumps in the road. In the meantime, the cooperation NATO has developed with Russia should be expanded in every way consistent with NATO’s value base and current missions.

As Dmitri Trenin has suggested, the West will have to count on economic forces rather than lectures about democracy to bend Russia back in more positive directions. Trenin advises caution and patience: “Today’s Russia may not be pro-Western, but neither is it anti-Western … the West needs to calm down and take Russia for what it is: a major outside player that is neither an eternal foe nor an automatic friend.”24

An associated challenge is facilitating Ukraine’s progression from a former Soviet republic to a position inside Europe’s institutions, including NATO. The allies also will have continuing responsibilities in the Balkans, ensuring some peaceful, stable framework for its future and membership in European institutions for former Yugoslav republics who seek them.

Looking ahead

It is impossible to predict confi dently which path the Alliance will follow in the years ahead. History suggests that the Alliance has incredible staying power. It has survived “crises” over the development of Soviet strategic nuclear weapons (1950s), the advent of détente (1960s), France’s departure from the NATO inte-grated military command (1967), the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan (1979), the deployment of intermediate range nuclear missiles in Europe (1980s), the end of the Cold War, the Warsaw Pact and the Soviet Union (1989–91), and the recent differences over Iraq. Against this backdrop, it seems safe to suggest that the Alliance will survive its recent crisis and persist as a viable organization for the foreseeable future.

However, each crisis has left the Alliance somewhat different than it was before. Today, the skeptics say the end of the Cold War removed the glue that had held the Alliance together, and that the Iraq dispute is the most recent case in point. If the Alliance continues, they argue, it will be an empty shell. More optimistic observers note that while European and American member governments were fi ghting over what to do about Iraq, they were agreeing to dramatic changes in NATO’s missions and capabilities, perhaps giving the Alliance key roles in the global struggle against terrorism, confl ict and instability.

The most important characteristic of the new international system remains the emergence of the United States as the only true global power – not omnipotent, but more powerful than any other nation or organized group of nations on this earth. Having been subjected to a brutal terrorist attack on innocent civilians at this critical point in its national history left the United States a more intense and less predictable international actor. How the United States decides to use its power and infl uence will have a major impact on the future of the Alliance that it still leads. Will it continue to act with a degree of unilateralism and paranoia that irritates and

88 S.R. Sloan

alienates even its best allies, or will it fi nd a way to be a confi dent and effective benign hegemon? The bottom line is that, for the Alliance to recover from its recent crisis, the United States will have to fi nd ways to balance the advantages of multilateral cooperation and burden sharing against the temptations and attractions of unilateralism.

How the hegemon’s allies react to US leadership is also important. Most European nations appear prepared to follow a benign US hegemon on most major issues. Will the incredible power and capabilities of the United States convince the allies to follow, even when the United States leads with a clumsy hand? Or will the allies revolt, periodically, individually or as a group, in response to heavy-handed US unilateralism? In terms of capabilities, will the allies respond to US leadership by creating the capabilities required to make serious military contributions to global military operations? Will they decide to take the “easy road” of concentrating on their soft-power resources and allow the United States to take most responsibility for military capabilities? Or will they build up signifi cant European military capabilities intended to give Europe more leverage over US decisions? If the EU’s European Security and Defense Policy is to be taken seriously in Washington, the EU members will have to demonstrate that the new aspect of the unifi cation process adds capabilities to the transatlantic inventory of security tools, not just institutions and acronyms.

At the national level, for Europe to play its part in reconstructing a positive transatlantic dynamic, Germany will be required to fi nd a new balance in its policies that serves two old masters – Europeanism and Atlanticism – while responding to its rediscovered, redefi ned and reenergized sense of national interests. France will have to give more weight to the transatlantic dimension of its interests. Great Britain will be required to be a “good European” while remaining Washington’s trusted partner.

Finally, the fall 2005 rioting in France has illustrated that the problems of ethnic peace and justice are not just international, but exist inside many allied nations. It would be easy for the United States to respond to persistent French criticism of social and economic injustice in the United States by thumbing its nose at the challenges to French society and government. The better approach, of course, will be for all the allies – the United States, Canada and the Europeans – to work together to fi nd ways to ensure that the external threats posed by Islamic fundamentalism are not internalized because of the shortcomings of our socio-economic systems.

The attitudes and capabilities the United States and Europe bring to the NATO table in the years immediately ahead will determine whether the Alliance will become part of the answer to problems of global stability. If NATO – meaning, of course, the NATO nations – successfully manages the stabilization effort in Afghanistan, it will establish its credentials as a serious and constructive device for multilateral security cooperation for the international community. Of course, failure in any mission the members assign to the Alliance could have disastrous consequences for NATO’s credibility and future utility.

At the end of the day, there are two basic requirements for NATO to be perceived


as important enough for the member states to ensure its survival. Put most simply, the United States must be convinced that political and military cooperation with the European allies makes an important net contribution to US interests. On the other side of the coin, the Europeans must believe that contributing to international security efforts alongside the United States will produce infl uence for Europe over US decisions that affect their security. These are the fundamental self-interested terms for continuation of a vital, productive transatlantic bargain that has moved beyond Russia.

Notes

1 NATO, Study on NATO Enlargement (Brussels: September 1995). 2 This discussion draws on the author’s role as a consultant to the Senate NATO Observer

Group throughout the enlargement process, including presence on the fl oor of the Senate during the debate on the resolution of ratifi cation. A more detailed version appears in: Stanley R. Sloan, NATO, the European Union and the Atlantic Community: The Transatlantic Bargain Challenged (Lanham, MD: Rowman and Littlefi eld, 2005), 156–66.

3 US Senate Committee on Foreign Relations, The Debate on NATO Enlargement, 105th Congress, 1st session, 7, 9, 22, 28 and 30 October and 5 November 1997, S. Hrg. 105–285, 2.

4 Sean Kay, “What Went Wrong with NATO?”, Cambridge Review of International Affairs, Vol. 18, No. 1, April 2005.

5 George F. Kennan, “A Fateful Error,” New York Times, 5 February 1997, A23. 6 Following one Senate NATO Observer Group session in the weeks before the Senate

vote, the late Paul Wellstone engaged me in a discussion of the Russia issue. I attempted to provide a balanced perspective, but suggested that Kennan’s prediction was probably exaggerated. It was clear from that discussion, however, that Wellstone’s vote probably would be with the treaty opponents.

7 Mike Peacock, “Blair Pushes for a New NATO/Russia Relationship,” Reuters, 16 November 2001.

8 Michael Wines, “Russia Could Get Veto Power in New NATO,” International Herald Tribune, 23 November 2001, 1.

9 Ronald D. Asmus and Jeremy D. Rosner, “Don’t Give Russia a Veto,” WashingtonTimes, 5 December 2001, A19.

10 Lord Robertson, “NATO in the 21st Century,” Speech at Charles University, Prague, 21 March 2002 (full text on NATO web site at http://www.nato.int/).

11 Claire Bigg, “Russia: Putin ‘Satisfi ed’ as G-8 Summit Winds to a Close,” RFE/RL report, 17 July 2006.

12 Kay, 86. 13 Ivo Daalder and James Goldgeier, “Global NATO,” Foreign Affairs, September–

October 2006, p. 109. 14 Christopher Marquis, “General Urges NATO to Send Afghanistan More Troops”(New

York Times, 28 January 2004).

90 S.R. Sloan

15 Mary Elise Sarotte, German Military Reform and European Security, Adelphi Paper 340, The International Institute for Strategic Studies (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001), pp. 9–12.

16 Klaus Naumann, “Assessing NATO’s Chances to Succeed” (World Security Network, 30 January 2004).

17 US Congress, Congressional Record – Senate, 8 May 2003, S5882. 18 Kay, 84. 19 Leo G. Michel, “NATO Decisionmaking: Au Revoir to Consensus?” (National Defense

University, US National Defense University Strategic Forum, No. 202, August 2003). http://www.ndu.edu/inss/strforum/SF202/SF202.pdf [Accessed 11 November 2005].

20 Discussions of the division of labor issue with Robert P. Grant greatly contributed to the development of this analysis. Division of tasks makes sense in terms of the most effective use of US and European capabilities, but the danger that divided responsibilities will lead to divergent perspectives is real. Something like a shared continuum approach to future confl icts, with the United States and the European allies involved along the full spectrum but with roles attuned to specifi c capabilities and resources, will be necessary to overcome the dilemma posed by the division of labor issue.

21 The 26th President of the United States, Theodore (“Teddy”) Roosevelt, adopted the adage “Speak softly and carry a big stick. You will go far” as the best way to deal with other nations.

22 Andrew Borowiec, “France Eases Rift with United States,” (Washington Times, 22 January 2004).

23 Michael Brenner and Guillaume Parmentier, Reconcilable Differences, U.S.–French Relations in the New Era (Washington, D.C.: Brookings Institution Press, 2002), p. 116.

24 Dmitri Trenin, “Russia Leaves the West,” Foreign Affairs, July–August 2006, p. 95.

6 NATO enlargement and Russia

Jeffrey Simon*

This paper argues that NATO has undergone three distinct stages in its evolution, during which it has responded to threats, built capabilities, enlarged and engaged in response to challenges differently. During the same period, the European security environment had undergone substantial change. During the post-Cold War period of 1991–2001, NATO’s collective defense functions shifted towards out-of-area expeditionary operations, and in the post-9/11 period NATO needs to shift its focus toward building barriers against the human traffi cking, drugs and weapons (from small arms to weapons of mass destruction) threats to Europe’s core, and to building bridges to ensure that vital energy supplies freely fl ow from and across the Caspian and Black Seas to Europe. In order to accomplish this task of building barriers and bridges, NATO needs to build a wider regional and broader functional security cooperation that entails the reaching out of its 26 members and implementing a strategic vision with its 23 Partnership for Peace Partners in Europe and beyond.

Cold War NATO, 1949–91

During the Cold War when there was a consensus on the threat that NATO faced and the capabilities that it needed, the Alliance passed many defense tests. During its fi rst four decades, NATO never invoked Article 5 nor engaged in any Out-of-Area military operations, and when it enlarged, it was for defense.

During the Cold War there was a consensus on the USSR–Warsaw Pact threat that NATO faced as defi ned in its Military Committee 161 threat assessments. While we knew our opponent’s capabilities, we did not know his intent. Defense of Europe remained a central US/NATO priority as embedded in NATO’s MC14/3 “fl exible response.” The US and NATO shared consensus on the need to defend the Greenland, Iceland, and United Kingdom (GIUK) and Fulda Gaps and, in 1978, agreed to maintain suffi cient capabilities in the Long Term Defense Plan (LTDP) by committing three percent of GDP to defense.

* The opinions expressed in this paper are solely my personal views and do not necessarily refl ect the views of INSS, National Defense University, or any other governmental agency.

92 J. Simon

When NATO enlarged during the Cold War it was for the purpose of improving defenses. In the midst of the Korean War, Greece and Turkey were added in 1952 to contain the USSR, the Federal Republic of Germany with its newly created Bundeswehr in 1955, and Spain in 1982 for strategic depth. The Alliance passed many defense challenges; these included crises in Berlin in 1961 and Czechoslovakia in 1968. Perhaps NATO’s greatest Cold War test, though, came with the dual track decision invoked during 1978–84. This was a long-term effort to hold the Alliance together. Maintaining Alliance cohesion was ultimately successful, but proved quite challenging despite the presence of a clear threat. During the Cold War the Alliance never engaged in Article 4 operations; and though it never invoked Article 5, the Soviet–Warsaw Pact forward deployed forces remained an omnipresent reminder of the need for it.

Post-Cold War NATO, 1991–2001

NATO’s fifth decade, the post-Cold War period, was marked by increasing disagreements over the nature of the threats and capabilities necessary to deal with them. The Alliance had to engage in Article 4 peace support operations and extended bombing campaigns. When the Alliance enlarged during this period it was for security and stability.

The post-Cold War period was marked by the 1991 dissolution of the Warsaw Pact and Soviet Union and with their eclipse, NATO’s perception of common threat. Differing perceptions on the challenges emerging from the dissolution of Yugoslavia became apparent among allies during the Bosnia-Herzegovina and Kosovo crises. NATO began redefining its mission with the November 1991 Rome Summit’s issuance of a New (now old) Strategic Concept, and reorienting its capabilities at the January 1994 Brussels Summit which established the groundwork for post-Cold War NATO by adopting the Combined Joint Task Forces (CJTF) as support for European Security and Defense Identity (ESDI), now displaced by the “autonomous” Common European Security and Defense Policy (CESDP). Although the evolving transatlantic capabilities gap during the 1990s resulted in the April 1999 Washington Summit’s adoption of yet another Strategic Concept along with a Defense Capabilities Initiative (DCI), these efforts obviously failed resulting from, and further contributing to, what Robert Kagan has described as a psychological divide between US power and European “weakness.”1 In sum, while the United States continued to see NATO as an instrument for defense, many Europeans increasingly saw the Alliance as an instrument in providing reassurance of European “stability.”

Since the revolutions of 1989–90 and the fall of the Berlin Wall, NATO had emerged as the backbone of Europe’s security architecture. In response to the demands of outsiders for collaboration, NATO has consistently adhered to a strategy of inclusion – to create a Europe whole and undivided. This was NATO’s conscious effort at the July 1990 London Summit when it invited the then existing Soviet Union and non-Soviet Warsaw Pact members “to establish regular dip-lomatic liaison with NATO”2 and at the November 1991 Rome Summit when it

NATO enlargement and Russia 93

launched the North Atlantic Cooperation Council (NACC) to include them.3 Then when the USSR disintegrated, NATO decided in January 1992 to include former Soviet republics in the NACC thus attempting to ensure a Europe free and whole. The same strategy prevailed at the Brussels Summit in January 1994 when NATO reiterated the Alliance’s openness to enlarge and launched Partnership for Peace (PFP) that included NACC members and other CSCE (now OSCE) countries able and willing to contribute.4 When invitations were extended to Poland, Hungary, and the Czech Republic at the Madrid Summit in July 1997, NATO portrayed enlargement in terms of inclusion and justifi ed it as incorporating “producers” of (political, economic, social, and military) security as defi ned in the September 1995 Study on NATO Enlargement. The Alliance reaffi rmed that it remained open to new members under Article 10 adding, “[N]o European democratic country … would be excluded from consideration.”5

After they joined on 12 March 1999, NATO’s Washington Summit in April 1999 launched the Membership Action Plan (MAP) that furthered incentives of possible membership based upon the principles outlined in the 1995 NATO study. NATO’s next Summit scheduled for 2002 would have enlargement on its agenda not just because the April 1999 Washington Summit stated that the next Summit would focus on it, but also because the (then) nine MAP foreign ministers launched a political initiative on 18–19 May 2000 in Vilnius to remind the member states of NATO “to fulfi ll the promise of the Washington Summit to build a Europe whole and free … [and] at the next NATO Summit in 2002 to invite our democracies to join NATO.”6 This political initiative was to be followed by another gathering of the nine MAP NATO aspirant defense ministers in Sofi a and foreign ministers in Bucharest in October 2000.

After the signing of the Dayton Accords, starting in December 1995 NATO deployed forces in Out-of-Area military operations for the fi rst time. As these deployments occurred, many began to think that the post-Cold War NATO would be increasingly an Article 4 Alliance; that Implementation Force (IFOR)/Stabilization Force (SFOR) and Kosovo Force (KFOR) deployments in Bosnia and Kosovo would be the “bread and butter” of NATO’s post-Cold War defense efforts, with the 78-day Kosovo bombing campaign representing the high end of NATO’s confl ict spectrum. Indeed, NATO’s Article 4 Balkan deployments would severely test the suffi ciency of common values for binding the Alliance in the absence of a Soviet–Warsaw Pact threat. This was evident in the North Atlantic Council (NAC)’s diffi culty (now at 19 members) in generating consensus to implement the bombing and in utilizing the integrated military command during the 78-day campaign. The April 1999 Washington Summit’s “Statement on Kosovo,” which guaranteed territorial protection in the context of a limited temporal and spatial Article 5, and MAP launch contributed to non-member partner support. In sum, during the post-Cold War period, NATO engaged in stabilizing the East through partnership and enlargement and Out-of-Area Article 4 defense deployments, while Article 5 remained credible providing an incentive for those who wanted to identify with and adhere to the Alliance.

94 J. Simon

Post-11 September challenges

On 12 September 2001 NATO re-emerged as an Article 5 as well as Article 4 post-Cold War alliance and ended the Out-of-Area debate. But NATO faces increased problems in developing consensus on threat and preventing diverging risk assessments from developing among allies, providing the requisite capabilities, in determining when and for how long to participate in coalition operations, and in agreeing on what conditions are necessary for further enlargement.

Although the 1994 Brussels Summit also issued a declaration “to intensify our efforts against the proliferation of weapons of mass destruction and their means of delivery” and the 1999 Strategic Concept referred to terrorism in an Article 4 context, these issues remained in the background during the post-Cold War period. But when NATO invoked Article 5 on 12 September 2001, the issue of diverging transatlantic risk assessments was raised to the forefront of NATO’s agenda.

Clearly the United States perception of risk had changed, and increasing defense expenditures by $48 billion in 2002 refl ected this. Although European NATO allies invoked Article 5 and some have provided defense assistance in the war against terrorism in Afghanistan, the war’s long-term impact on their risk assessments was different, especially when searching for any substantial increases in defense expenditures.

The breach, though, in threat perceptions became most evident in 2003 and 2004 over the war in Iraq. The US is at war with terrorism, with all that term implies, while Europe is not, at least to the same degree. In a total reversal from the Cold War when we knew our opponent’s capabilities but not his intent, in the war on terrorism we know our opponent’s intent, but not his capabilities. While NATO nominally remains a “defensive” alliance, intended to respond to an adver-sary’s attack, the United States has concluded that the war on terrorism requires “offensive” operations (e.g. pre-emption) often far beyond the territories of NATO members. This mentality shift strains the transatlantic relationship, par ticu larly for those European allies who had come to see NATO’s main role as pro viding reassurance and stability (e.g. France and Germany), rather than in defending Europe.

As already noted, in recognition of a capabilities problem and in an effort to rec-tify it, NATO’s April 1999 Washington Summit launched the Defense Capabilities Initiative (DCI) along with yet a “new” Strategic Concept. If we were to assess the initiative’s progress since the accession of NATO’s three new members, Poland, Hungary, and the Czech Republic, on 12 March 1999 and after the events of 11 September 2001, we would have to conclude, unfortunately, that the capabili-ties gap in 2007 is wider than ever. While the US substantially increased defense expenditures, most NATO allies’ budgets have remained unchanged. The gap also increased after the accession of NATO’s seven new allies in 2004. In recognition of the fact that the capabilities gap cannot be closed, but must be “fi lled,” the November 2002 NATO Prague Summit launched a NATO Response Force (NRF) and “Capabilities Commitment,” while the June 2004 Istanbul Summit focused on getting more NATO commitments to fi ll Provincial Reconstruction Teams (PRT) in Afghanistan.


While NATO has proved to be a good military instrument to deal with European security challenges during the Cold War and post-Cold War, counter-terrorism efforts require the application of wider set of tools than traditional military actions, many of which are already available in the European Union. In other words, as former Polish Minister of Defense, Janusz Onyszkiewicz said, while “NATO is a good hammer, not all European security problems are nails.” In addition, some Europeans feel that NATO’s invoking Article 5 on 12 September had been a “mistake” in that like Pandora’s Box, once opened, the mystery had been lifted. In sum, the post-9/11 period’s wider regional and broader func-tional security requirements oblige NATO to coordinate its capabilities with the EU.

The Prague Summit invited seven MAP partners from the Baltic to the Black Sea to join the Alliance. Enlarging the NAC to include 26 members sharing common values will test whether NATO’s political institutions will be suffi cient to solve these challenges or only make them worse. On the one hand, the seven invited MAP partners’ institutional capacities are substantially weaker than Poland, Hungary and the Czech Republic, whose performance has been less than ideal. On the other hand, the Membership Action Plan introduced at the April 1999 Washington Summit has witnessed the evolution of a defense reform process among MAP partners that prepared them for NATO membership far more effectively than the original January 1994 Partnership for Peace program or July 1997 enhanced Partnership for Peace prepared Poland, Hungary, or the Czech Republic. While the MAP experience would ease some post-accession challenges for invitees, it remains to be seen if their commitment to common values is suffi cient to moderate their national interests.

Article 4 operations continue in the Balkans after nine years with NATO’s IFOR/SFOR and follow-on EU Operation Althea since January 2005 and KFOR since 1999. On 12 September 2001 NATO re-emerged as an Article 5 as well as Article 4 post-Cold War alliance. Article 5 was not an empty gesture. NATO AWACS protected the continental United States and NATO naval forces began to patrol the eastern Mediterranean (Operation Active Endeavor) on 26 October 2001, widening its area of responsibility to the Strait of Gibraltar on 10 March 2003 and continues operating today. The NAC “planned” operations in and around Afghanistan, provided support to the Polish-led multinational division in Iraq, and Partnership for Peace (PFP) has played a role in the Caucasus and Central Asia. On the one hand, Article 5 was symbolically signifi cant representing transatlantic solidarity; on the other hand, like the 1978 “dual-track” decision NATO now faces its most serious test, because the counter-terrorism campaign will be long term and will severely test the transatlantic relationship.

But the war on terrorism has had another signifi cant impact on the US and NATO in that Europe is no longer at center of US interest as its attention has shifted across the Black Sea to the Caucasus and Central Asia. After Article 5’s invoca-tion, the veil of mystery has lifted and many on both sides of the Atlantic remain uncomfortable with its implications and obligations. In sum, the post-12 September security environment necessitates a transatlantic dialogue to “clarify” our under-

96 J. Simon

standing about what constitutes common risks and obligations under NATO’s “new” Article 5. The November 2002 Prague Summit did not do this, nor did the June 2004 Istanbul Summit! Postponing this transatlantic discussion because it is either too diffi cult or might demonstrate the “weakness” of common values in the face of increasingly divergent national interests, demonstrates the present state of Alliance affairs. Bur even if we postpone the discussion, as the US, with its new post-11 September risk assessment, continues to press for European support that is likely to incur greater dangers and obligations for allies, a more full measure of the Alliance’s future role in European security will emerge.

Changing security environment: bridges and barriers

Before the Dayton Accords the Balkans had been “Out-of-Area” for NATO; ever since deployments in Bosnia, Kosovo, and Macedonia, the Balkans have become part of its area of responsibility. The US has used Balkan bases to support operations (International Security Assistance Force (ISAF) and OperationEnduring Freedom (OEF)) in Afghanistan and the Polish-led multinational division in Iraq (Operation Enduring Freedom (OIF)), and remains in Kosovo KFOR, which remains a diffi cult problem in the Balkans.7 Maintaining Balkan stability and further integration of the West Balkans remains a NATO challenge, particularly with Montenegro’s recent independence in May 2006 and forthcoming changes in Kosovo’s future status. The 2004 accession of Slovenia, Romania, and Bulgaria to NATO has served to stabilize the region by demonstrating to aspirants that integration is possible, and it strengthens the new members’ ability to shape the environment by advocating the interests of the Adriatic Charter (MAP members Albania, Macedonia, and Croatia) as well as Bosnia-Herzegovina, Montenegro, and Serbia within NATO. The three new southeast European NATO members also have been willing and able to transfer their experiences to the three MAP Partners, thereby producing more security inside the Alliance and “transferring” security to the West Balkans. That, in any case, is the hope.

While the West Balkans now exports less insecurity to its neighbors, unfortunately the Black Sea region tends to import instability into Europe. These instabilities come in various forms: organized crime, and traffi cking in humans, drugs, and arms. Since NATO deploys in the Mediterranean (Operation Active Endeavor),engages in Afghanistan, and provides support in Iraq, Black Sea bases provide NATO not only with a bridge, but also, in theory, with a barrier to close this road to Europe. While the NATO Istanbul Summit communiqué acknowledged the Black Sea’s importance8 (in effect moving it from an “Out-of-Area” concern to NATO area of responsibility), it was met with French reluctance.

With Romania and Bulgaria now in the Alliance, Ukraine working on an Action Plan since the Prague Summit,9 and Georgia aspiring to join NATO, the Black Sea is being gradually transformed geo-politically from a former Soviet to a NATO “lake.” Though the Istanbul Summit communiqué also acknowledged this new reality by now “putting a special focus on PFP partners in the Caucasus and Central Asia,”10 whether the Black Sea actually becomes a bridge or barrier


will largely depend upon Russia (for example, whether it will support or work to prevent Ukraine’s and Georgia’s outreach to NATO). Optimists note that Russia’s fi rm opposition to Baltic accession to NATO in 1996 turned to tacit acceptance by November 2002. Pessimists argue that most Russians still see the world as a zero-sum game, particularly in this region where several so-called “frozen confl icts” remain; in Moldova’s Transdniestria, in Georgia’s South Ossetia and Abkhazia,11

and Nagorno-Karabakh in Armenia-Azerbaijan. Russia’s tendency to compete with the Euro-Atlantic community may have been

blunted during the decade of the 1990s when it was economically strapped, but recent increases in global energy prices may have emboldened Russia to pursue its interests, such as cutting off energy supplies to Ukraine and Lithuania, even if it means risking cooperation with the West. If Dmitri Trenin is correct in his conclusion that “Russia’s leaders have given up on becoming part of the West and have started creating their own Moscow-centered system,”12 then building “bridges” and “barriers” will become a more diffi cult undertaking.

In sum, in the greater Black Sea region PFP needs to provide necessary “barriers” and “bridges” to the South Caucasus and Caspian energy supplies, while Romania now in NATO (along with Poland in the North) can play an important partner role not only by anchoring Ukraine, but also by forming a “bridge” to Moldova. Recent shifts in Russia’s behavior coupled with political developments in Ukraine since the March 2006 elections suggest that building Black Sea regional bridges and barriers may become even more diffi cult.

Partnership for peace in the post-Cold War period

After the collapse of the Soviet Union and Warsaw Pact, NATO faced a strategic challenge: how to shape the post-communist reform process in Central and Eastern Europe in ways that would foster stability and nurture cooperation on common security problems. NATO created the North Atlantic Cooperation Council (NACC) in December 1991 to promote dialogue on common security concerns with these countries and the USSR. The NACC dialogue bridged the former East–West divide and illuminated opportunities for practical cooperation. NACC also helped Central and East European politicians understand that defense requirements are best rooted in democratic politics and that national security encompassed civil emergency planning and a broader range of concerns, not just the military.

Partnership for Peace, which built on NACC, has undergone enormous change since it was launched in January of 1994. The program was designed to allow for practical cooperation between NATO and non-members on a bilateral and multilateral basis and to prepare aspirants for entry into the Alliance, which was not yet ready to accept new members. Though many aspirants initially saw PFP as a “policy for postponement,” it did address some of their security concerns and established the norm that partners should also make contributions to common security.13 Continued partner pressure for membership and political shifts in the West led NATO to initiate a Study on NATO Enlargement that made clear to all that PFP was the best path to NATO membership.14

98 J. Simon

Within six months of launching PFP, there were roughly two-dozen partners in the program, to include most of the newly independent states of the former Soviet Union. PFP architects wrestled to identify the most useful forms of cooperation and found military exercises and training generated great interest. Initially, roughly a dozen partners participated in the Partnership Coordination Cell (PCC) at Mons, Belgium, to coordinate and plan military exercises for search and rescue, humanitarian assistance, and peacekeeping operations. The PCC’s terms of reference expanded to include “peace enforcement operations” after the December 1995 Dayton Accords and NATO’s decision to allow partners to deploy peacekeepers in the Bosnia IFOR15 and follow-on SFOR.16 Another focal point was internal defense reform – that is the so-called Planning and Review Process (PARP).17

The July 1997 Madrid Summit issued invitations to Poland, Hungary, and the Czech Republic to join the Alliance. It also “enhanced” PFP to be more relevant and operational.18 The Madrid Summit also marked the introduction of the EAPC that replaced the NACC, and the creation of the NATO–Russia Permanent Joint Council (PJC) and NATO–Ukraine Commission to enhance consultation and cooperation with Russia and Ukraine.

By the April 1999 Washington Summit, Poland, Hungary, and the Czech Republic had just become the fi rst PFP partners to join the Alliance, which was then heavily engaged in a bombing campaign of Serbia. In the KFOR, sixteen PFP partners contributed to the operation,19 in addition to NATO’s three new allies. The Summit also approved the new Alliance Strategic Concept, which underscored the importance of partnerships, launched a Defense Capabilities Initiative (DCI) to improve operability among Alliance forces and, where applicable, between Alliance and partner forces in non-Article 5 operations. It also approved a third PARP cycle that further enhanced partner force planning procedures to make them more closely resemble the NATO Defense Planning Questionnaire (DPQ).20

The 1999 Summit also introduced the MAP as a visible manifestation of NATO’s “Open Door” (Article 10) policy with a clear set of Allied expectations from prospective members.21 The MAP Annual National Plans (ANPs) generated by the nine22 aspirant partners would allow each to set its own objectives and targets on preparations for possible future membership. This framework and experience prepared PFP well for the challenges of the war on terrorism.

Building a cooperative security climate after 11 September

Since 11 September 2001, NATO and many partner governments have struggled, with varying degrees of success, to reshape their defense capabilities to deal with the new risks posed by global terrorism. While the defense budgets of most other long-time NATO allies have remained unchanged and the overall capabilities gap between the US and other allies has widened, NATO committed itself to a broader functional and wider geographic area of engagement.

Still, as NATO began to “plan” operations in and around Afghanistan, PFP demonstrated its utility in bolstering and facilitating NATO operations in the


Caucasus and Central Asia. Moreover, at their fi rst meeting after the 9/11 attacks, EAPC defense ministers reaffi rmed their determination to exploit PFP to increase cooperation and capabilities against terrorism. Consistent with NATO’s realization that it must place greater emphasis on meeting the challenges of asymmetric warfare, the EAPC approved new PARP ministerial guidance23 and adopted an Action Plan 2002–04 and the Civil Emergency Action Plan regarding possible chemical, biological, or radiological attacks.

To better address these challenges, the November 2002 Prague Summit approved the Prague Capabilities Commitment (PCC), NATO Response Force (NRF), and new NATO command structure. The small NATO Response Force with high tech capabilities for expeditionary missions was its centerpiece. If implemented, these initiatives would provide a more constructive burden-sharing arrangement for NATO in the post-9/11 risk environment.

The Prague Summit also endorsed the military Concept for Defense against Terrorism that calls for “improved intelligence sharing and crisis response arrangements [and commitment with partners] to fully implement the Civil Emergency Planning (CEP) Action Plan … against possible attacks by … chemical, biological or radiological (CBR) agents.”24 So too, the EAPC adopted the Partnership Action Plan against Terrorism (PAP-T) on 22 November 2002 that commits partners to take a number of steps to combat terrorism at home and share information and experience.25 The PAP-T does establish a framework upon which NATO allies and partners are likely to be engaged in these areas for years to come.

Although the International Security Assistance Force operations in Afghanistan (ISAF) commenced in January 2002 with participation of several allies and PFP partners, NATO did not assume command until 11 August 2003.26 In addition, in US Central Command’s (CENTCOM) Operation Enduring Freedom (OEF) in Afghanistan, many NATO allies (to include two new ones – Poland and the Czech Republic) and six PFP partners27 rendered substantial assistance. Finally, after Saddam Hussein had been toppled in Iraq, NATO provided intelligence and logistical support to the Polish-led multinational division,28 comprising many allies and eleven partners, which engaged in stabilization efforts as part of Operation Iraqi Freedom (OIF).29

When NATO assumed command of ISAF, this marked the fi rst mission in its history outside the Euro-Atlantic area. Initially ISAF’s mandate was restricted to security in and around Kabul. In December 2003, the NAC authorized expanding ISAF to take over command of the German-led Provincial Reconstruction Team (PRT) in Kunduz, leaving eight other PRTs under the US-led OEF military opera-tion against terrorists in Afghanistan. During 2004, NATO assumed command of four other PRTs in the north, and in 2005 expanded to two other PRTs in the west. In December 2005, NATO decided to further expand to the south. As of 31 July 2006 the expanded ISAF comprises 18,500 troops from 37 NATO and non-NATO countries and covers 13 PRTs accounting for approximately 75 percent of Afghanistan’s territory, while the US-led OEF coalition retains responsibility for counter-terrorist missions in the east.

100 J. Simon

A way ahead: a strategic vision for PFP’s revival

To keep PFP relevant and effective over the next decade, partners need to focus on developing capabilities to combat terrorism and other transnational threats. New programs could focus on making interior ministries, police, and border guards more effective. A revived partnership also now needs to improve its intelligence cooperation to include sharing of interior (police and border control) and fi nance (banking) information. Finally, PFP’s budget and functions need to be reexamined and updated to support future counter terrorist operations to include the counter-proliferation efforts and missile defense systems outlined in the PAP-T.

Added to these broader functional and wider geographic challenges facing the Alliance, the relationship between NATO members and PFP partners is changing dramatically. With seven MAP partners acceding to membership in 2004, there are more NATO allies (26) than partners (23 – leaving Russia and Ukraine, who, while also members of PFP, have special bilateral relationships with NATO). Allies will be struggling with the transformation of their own armed forces and security sector institutions, and with completing the integration of the 10 newest members. The 23 remaining partners have diverse security interests and the majority of them have much weaker defense establishments and governmental institutions30 than those now joining the Alliance.

Making Black Sea regional cooperation a reality

The greater Black Sea region has acquired increased strategic importance to NATO in recent years, particularly since the Alliance assumed command of ISAF in Afghanistan and provided support to the Polish-led division in Iraq. However, regional security dialogue and cooperation in this region has been complicated by lingering disputes, weak governance, and other problems. While there has been dialogue on economic cooperation in the region, Black Sea regional security cooperation remains embryonic. It is time to apply the successful lessons of regional security cooperation in Central and Southeast European to the greater Black Sea region. The fi rst step to stabilize the region is to build understanding through discussion of security risks, and then to build greater regional cooperation through implementation of military activities in support of a transparent agenda. What options should the participants consider?

The successful Balkan cooperation initiatives – Southeast European Defense Ministerial (SEDM), Southeast European Cooperation Initiative (SECI), and Southeast European Brigade (SEEBRIG) – could both serve as models for the Caucasus and extend their benefi ts throughout the greater Black Sea littoral.

The Central and East European experience since the late 1980s also provides several successful examples of using military cooperation to build confi dence and regional security among wary neighbors that could be applied to improve inter-state relations in the greater Black Sea region. These include: Romania–Hungary military contacts to improve otherwise cool political relations in the early 1990s, the continued deployment of the Czech–Slovak battalion in UNPROFOR and UNCHRO during and after the January 1993 “Velvet divorce,” the Polish–Ukraine


Battalion in Kosovo (and Iraq), and the formation of the Baltic Battalion (BALTBAT) and SEEBRIG to foster regional cooperation in the Baltic and the Balkan regions respectively. Adapting some of these experiences as models for application within the Caucasus and with NATO’s three Black Sea allies (two new in 2004) and partners and other willing NATO allies, under a revived PFP could go a long way in advancing greater Black Sea cooperation and stability, and advance NATO’s cooperative security interests.

There are some existing foundations upon which to build security cooperation in this region:

1 Organization of the Black Sea Economic Cooperation (BSEC) BSEC was formed in 1992 to promote regional cooperation on economic, transportation, energy, and environmental issues. BSEC is an organization comprising all six littoral states among its 12-state membership roster.31 In 1998 it composed a Working Group to combat crime and deal with natural disasters. In 2002 BSEC established Working Groups to deal with border controls, crisis management, and counter-terrorism, and in early December 2004 its ministers of interior agreed to create a network of liaison offi ces. BSEC also provides a forum for the 12 Black Sea foreign ministers to discuss security issues.

2 Blackseafor This Black Sea naval task force comprising the six maritime Black Sea states was formally established in April 2001 with tasks of search and rescue operations, humanitarian assistance, mine counter measures, environmental pro-tection, and goodwill visits. Starting in August 2001, Blackseafor has convened annual 30-day maritime activation exercises under changing national command starting with Turkey, then Ukraine, Bulgaria, Georgia and Romania. In January 2004 the Turks began to transform the Blackseafor into a more dynamic instrument to deal with new maritime risks. Rather than convening for exercises for one month (usually in August) each year, Blackseafor has decided to establish a permanent operation control center, draft a multilateral memorandum of understanding for information exchange among its members, and carry out unscheduled activations to shadow and trail suspicious ships. (Maritime control of the Black Sea is easier than the Mediterranean with the transit of only 300 compared to 4,000 ships per day respectively.) Finally, Blackseafor on 31 March 2005 agreed to broaden its mandate to fi ght terrorism as well as WMD proliferation by adopting a document entitled “Maritime Risk Assessment in the Black Sea.”

3 Black Sea Harmony In March 2004, the Turkish navy initiated a new security initiative Black Sea Harmony with the same objectives as NATO’s Operation Ac-tive Endeavor in the Mediterranean (i.e. to assist in establishing a maritime picture along the sea lines of communication and to shadow suspect ships). Covering roughly 40 percent (the southern portion) of the Black Sea, after 16 months of oper-ation Turkish naval assets have conducted 12,000 hailings and have conducted 195 port visits by coast guard and other law enforcement agencies. Recently, Turkey extended an invitation to other littoral states to join Black Sea Harmony. Ukraine

102 J. Simon

and Russia have declared their intention to join the operation. Multilateralizing Black Sea Harmony could become not only a model for Blackseafor, but also might be subordinated to it after it completes its transformation. NATO’s new allies, Bulgaria and Romania,32 though, remain unenthusiastic about these efforts, seeing them as forms of Turkish and Russian domination respectively. Hence, Turkey’s preferred approach appears to be to maintain its dominance by preventing NATO from extending Operation Active Endeavor into the Black Sea. Turkey claims the enduring utility and immutability of the 1936 Montreux Convention, giving Turkey control over the Bosporus and the Dardanelles, while expressing willingness to share information from Black Sea Harmony and Blackseafor with NATO.

One can envision the creation of real Black Sea regional cooperation to deal not only with civil emergency contingencies, such as the earthquakes that perennially strike the region or potential chemical, biological or radiological (CBR) incidents, but also to interdict the traffi cking of drugs, weapons, and humans across, particu-larly if Ukraine and Russia participated. In addition to inter-state cooperation, US policy can also help improve Black Sea cooperation and stability. The likely new US presence in Bulgaria and Romania can be leveraged to improve interoperability through development of joint training and joint logistics facilities and in working with SECI to improve Black Sea barriers. Coupled with Romania, Bulgaria and Turkey – now NATO’s three Black Sea allies with a rich experience in SEDM and SEEBRIG – the US presence could be benefi cial in fostering wider Black Sea cooperation under a revived PFP program.

Since the continued engagement of Ukraine in PFP is important, the US and NATO were considering commencing intensified dialogues with Ukraine as a prerequisite to joining the MAP, if Ukraine’s 26 March 2006 parliamentary elections were held in accordance with OSCE standards and adhered to Ukrainian constitutional procedures (and if Ukraine really wants to join). At the same time, Ukraine’s relations with Russia have always had to be balanced with its desires for a Euro-Atlantic orientation.

Despite improvement in relations with Russia after the disintegration for the former Soviet Union, Ukraine commenced cooperation with Georgia, Azerbaijan, and Moldova on 10 October 1997 by establishing a consultative forum called GUAM as a potential counterweight, which Uzbekistan joined in April 1999, changing the name of the group to GUUAM. Though a 6–7 June 2001 summit in Yalta formalized the organization by signing a Charter that recognized sovereignty of members and stressed economic cooperation, developing transport links, and strengthening regional security,33 the organization initially stagnated. This changed with the so-called “color revolutions” in Georgia in 2003 and Ukraine in 2004–0534 and a pro-Western and anti-Russian shift in the Moldovan political agenda, coupled with the emergence of increased cooperation and coordination among the three countries. This shift became evident during the 21 April 2005 CIS foreign ministers session in Moscow, when the three countries not only lodged complaints against Russian restrictions on some of their products, but also proposed to discuss the “frozen confl icts,” and supported Ukraine’s proposal to condemn the 1930s famine (Holodomor) as genocide. The shift in shared views toward Euro-Atlantic


integration was evident at the 22 April 2005 GUUAM summit in Moldova, which Uzbekistan did not attend, giving offi cial notice on 5 May 2005 that it was withdrawing from the organization, leading to the organization’s name changing back to GUAM.

On 22–23 May 2006 the four GUAM presidents announced plans to institu-tionalize the organization by establishing headquarters in Kyiv, rename the organization to GUAM Organization for Democracy and Economic Development, and invite Romania and Bulgaria to join. The summit’s declaration reaffi rmed the members goals to create a “regional space of democracy, security, and stable economic and social development,” a determination to pursue their common European choice, and to pursue policies to strengthen relations with the EU and NATO.35 At the fi nal press conference President Yushchenko noted, “The name itself indi cates that our key goals are Euro-Atlantic integration. The next stage will be cooperation on organizing the work of our border guards and customs services.”36 President Ilkham Aliev of Azerbaijan supported Yushchenko adding that they had discussed transporting new hydrocarbon sources from the Caspian adding that oil from Azerbaijan would fi ll Ukraine’s Odessa–Brody pipeline.37

Georgian president Mikhail Saakashvili and Moldovan president Vladimir Voronin criticized Russia’s ban on their wine imports noting that they were debating the value of remaining in the CIS adding that it was important to develop a free trade regime among GUAM members and to expand the organization to Bulgaria and Romania who will soon be in the European Union.

In sum, while some of Ukraine’s political leaders professed a desire to pursue Euro-Atlantic integration objectives, their failure to build domestic support since the Orange Revolution has increasingly endangered the fulfi llment of that goal in light of Russia’s opposition, hardening intransigence, and increasing political and economic infl uence in Ukraine. Ukraine’s struggle against herself manifest during the December 2004 presidential elections remained unresolved after the March 2006 parliamentary elections and resulting government formation. The impact of a Ukrainian government led by Prime Minister Viktor Yanukovych (Party of the Regions (PRU)) in co-habitation with President Viktor Yuschenko’s “orange” Our Ukraine bloc on Ukraine’s policy toward either Russia and/or a Euro-Atlantic orientation remains to be seen.

Although all three South Caucasus partners were 1994 signatories of PFP, their participation has varied considerably, and only recently become more prominent. This has been particularly evident with PARP, which remains the core of transparent defense planning, accountability, and democratic oversight of the military and provides the foundation to enhance sub-regional cooperation. After 9/11, all three South Caucasus partners joined the PARP.

Though Armenia participates in PFP, cooperation with NATO remains con-tro versial because of unresolved problems with Turkey and Azerbaijan. Armenia has good relations with Greece, Romania, and Bulgaria and remains very close to Russia. An original signatory of the 15 May 1992 Tashkent CIS Collective Security Treaty with Russia, Armenia was the only Caucasus state to renew its commitment for another fi ve years on 2 April 1999.

104 J. Simon

While Azerbaijan and Georgia signed the CIS treaty in 1993, they withdrew from it in April 1999. Azerbaijan’s principal security concerns are its confl ict with Armenia over Nagorno-Karabakh and problems with terrorism, drugs, crime, and human traffi cking. Georgia participates in Black Sea regional organizations, wants NATO to play a role in solving the Abkhazian and South Ossetian confl icts on Georgian soil, and in September 2002 its parliament adopted a resolution endorsing the goal of NATO membership. The US has assisted the Georgian armed forces through the Train and Equip Program and in establishing control over the Pankisi Gorge near the border with Russia. In response to the Istanbul Communique call for further “efforts to build upon existing forms of regional [South Caucasus] cooperation,”38 Georgia and Azerbaijan have stressed their participation in PFP’s Individual Partnership Action Plan (IPAP), in Kosovo’s KFOR, in Operation Iraqi Freedom (and Operation Enduring Freedom in Afghanistan), and profess they want to join NATO. South Caucasus regional cooperation exercises have been held in Tbilisi in 2002 and Yerevan in 2003; though the September 2004 cancellation of a planned PFP exercise in Baku was a setback. NATO will present special PAP-DIB action plans on democratization to Georgia and Azerbaijan.

As a PFP Partner, Russia prefers maintaining its autonomy, rather than feel-ing the need to “belong” and is not seriously interested in defense reform. While NATO is no longer the bogeyman that it once was, and some Russians see it is a cooperation partner, they do not regard it as an integration partner. Russia is no longer imperialistic but is increasingly nationalistic. While the US realignment of forces refl ects a new US geo-Eurasian perspective with a clear Middle Eastern focus, it does not necessarily imply across-the-board competition.

From the Russian perspective, while the inclusion of the Baltic States in NATO is not a tragedy, real problems could result if it leads to a permanent military pres-ence. If Ukraine, Georgia, and Azerbaijan move closer to NATO, greater tension also will result. After Russia’s experience with Mikhail Saakashvili in Georgia’s Adjaria, South Ossetia and Abkhazia remain unstable and likely to become more problematic. Nagorno-Karabakh continues to fester between Azerbaijan and Armenia. With a new greater Black Sea political geography in the making there is a danger that Russia and NATO can misread each other. From a Russian perspective, the Black Sea is being transformed from a former Soviet lake, to a NATO lake; hence the need for Russia and Turkey to communicate with NATO as to what each expects regarding stability.

Turkey has the largest coastline on the Black Sea and is concerned about US intentions in the area. Turkey has also signed an Action Plan with Russia in 2002 that has brought about signifi cant reconciliation between the two large Black Sea states. Turkish perceptions of Black Sea security have been infl uenced in part by the increase in the shipping volumes of dangerous cargoes such as petroleum products crossing the Straits every day. In 2004, 150 million tons of mostly Russian oil crossed the Straits. Though these tankers pose a major security risk, Turkey expects a decrease after September 2005 when the Baku–Tbilisi–Ceyhan pipeline will ease the Black Sea oil fl ow. Increased Turkish–Russian cooperation is refl ected in the fact that 60 percent of Turkey’s natural gas comes from Russia, which is


now its second largest trading partner. Both want stability in the South Caucasus and Central Asia and share concerns about US efforts to promote democracy there as contributing to instability.

This is particularly important because “frozen confl icts” remain, particularly in Transdniestria (which will be affected when Romania joins the EU), South Ossetia and Abkhazia (where US and Russian cooperation is needed), and Nagorno-Karabakh (which requires cooperation among the US, Russia and Turkey), but also to deal with rising ethnic tensions among Crimean Tartars. Russia’s most important threat is Chechnya and North Ossetia, which Black Sea regional activi-ties and organizations will not address, while the frozen confl icts, in which Black Sea organizations can play a role, remain Turkey’s most important threat. In sum, the challenge of how to incorporate the Blackseafor/Black Sea Harmony into a “greater” Black Sea regional security process will depend in large part on Russia and Turkey. NATO’s approval at the Istanbul Summit to improve arrangements with the region by adding two liaison offi cers and creating a new special repre-sentative for the Caucasus and Central Asia on the International Staff has sparked hope for positive NATO engagement.

NATO and European security

The US has greater infl uence among South Caucasus (and Central Asian) partners than NATO (and EU) structures per se because NATO has been more hampered by what it can offer in terms of assistance.39 But this can change if the NATO Security Investment Program (NSIP) was more directly focused on the region and the PFP Trust Fund was made more robust.

The Istanbul Summit communiqué recognized the importance of the Black Sea region for Euro-Atlantic security. While the Black Sea serves as a barrier against potential threats for NATO/EU and as an important security bridge connecting the Mediterranean to the Caucasus and Caspian, there is no geo-political unity to the greater Black Sea region. Rather than a spirit of cooperation (that is only now slowly emerging in the Balkans after multiple wars and nine years of peacekeeping), the Black Sea region is home to nations with competitive agendas viewing the world in zero-sum terms. The limitations to building regional cooperation have been evident in earlier Black Sea regional efforts that have not lived up to expectations.

The EU’s “good neighborhood” policy also has put the South Caucasus on its radar screen, but its willingness to commit resources remains very unclear. The EU committed itself to the region when it invited Turkey to begin accession negotiations in December 2004. Hence, there is a need for a dual-track Black Sea approach; fi rst, strengthen NATO/EU cooperation to play a leading role in the region, and second, use PFP to enhance Black Sea regional security cooperation led by Turkey, Romania and Bulgaria, particularly with Russia (and Ukraine). Promoting Black Sea regional cooperation has particular relevance for NATO in that all the greater Black Sea Partners have signed the Partnership Action Plan Against Terrorism.

NATO’s new members Romania and Bulgaria strongly support developing Black Sea regional cooperation building on the lessons from SEDM. But Black Sea

106 J. Simon

regional organizations will be more diffi cult to build because of the predominance of competitive national agendas, and because of the diffi culty of creating an institution before the outbreak of confl ict. (SEDM was built after Balkan wars.) Also important factors in the potential success of the Black Sea process will be how or whether Russia (infl uencing Ukraine) will participate; and how Turkey’s EU integration agenda evolves.

In summary, NATO’s role in European security has changed substantially, not only since the post-Cold War era arose in 1991, but also since the post-9/11 era opened, as has the European security environment. In order to meet the post-9/11 chal lenges, NATO has assumed wider regional and broader functional security cooperation obligations requiring it to cooperate and coordinate its efforts with the EU. If NATO and the EU fail to build the necessary cooperation, each alone does not have the suffi cient functional tools to effectively meet the wider regional challenges. If the two succeed in building the necessary cooperation, the basis of a new transatlantic relationship can be established and European security will be enhanced.

Notes

1 Robert Kagan, Of Paradise and Power: America and Europe in the New World Order(New York: Vintage Books, 2004), pp. 12–27.

2 “London Declaration on a Transformed North Atlantic Alliance,” issued by the Heads of State and Government participating in the meeting of the North Atlantic Council in London, para. 7, 6 July 1990.

3 “Rome Declaration on Peace and Cooperation,” issued by the Heads of State and Government participating in the meeting of the North Atlantic Council in Rome, para. 11. Press Release S-1 (91) 86, 8 November 1991.

4 “Declaration of the Heads of State and Government Participating in the Meeting of the North Atlantic Council in Brussels,” para. 13. Press Communiqué M-1 (94) 3, 11 January 1994.

5 “Madrid Declaration on Euro-Atlantic Security and Cooperation,” issued by the Heads of State and Government participating in the meeting of the North Atlantic Council in Madrid, para. 8 (8 July 1997).

6 Vilnius Statement, 19 May 2000, issued at Vilnius Conference on “NATO’s Role in Changing Security Environment in Europe.”

7 See Jeffrey Simon, NATO Expeditionary Operations: Impacts Upon New Members and Partners, Occasional Paper No. 1 (Washington, D.C.: National Defense University Press, March 2005).

8 Istanbul Summit Communiqué issued by the Heads of State and Government Participating in the Meeting of the North Atlantic Council, 28 June 2004, para. 41. (NATO Press Release (2004) 096, 28 June 2004.

9 On 15 July 2004 President Leonid Kuchma issued a decree removing Ukraine’s prepara-tions for NATO membership from Ukraine’s offi cial military doctrine. RFE/RL Newsline,Vol. 8, No. 141, 27 July 2004. As Sergei Karaganov has noted, this could only be a


temporary measure. “The next president could change the doctrine and restore it.”; Valeria Korchagina “Putin Tells the West Not To Meddle in Ukraine,” The Moscow Times.com(27 July 2004). In fact, this is exactly what President Viktor Yuschenko did.

10 Istanbul Communiqué, para. 31. 11 While Saakashvili quickly dealt with Adjaria, it remains to be seen how long-lasting

this resolution will be. 12 Dmitri Trenin, “Russia Leaves the West,” Foreign Affairs, Vol. 85, No. 4 (July–August

2006), p. 87. 13 These occurred in the form of Individual Partnership Programs (IPPs) and self-

differentiation. It marked the establishment of a wide environment of cooperation to include Participation in the Planning and Review Process (PARP), peace support operations in the Partnership Coordination Cell (PCC), transparency, and democratic oversight of the military.

14 The Study on NATO Enlargement, briefed to Partners in September 1995, incorporated the principles of political democracy, economic free enterprise, equitable treatment of ethnic minorities, good neighbor relations, and democratic oversight of the military, as essential elements of being a “producer” of security into NATO “acquis.”

15 The following 14 (of 26) PFP partners participated in IFOR: Austria, Finland and Sweden; the Czech Republic, Hungary and Poland; Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Albania, Bulgaria and Romania; and Russia and Ukraine.

16 Later Ireland, Slovakia, and Slovenia also joined SFOR. 17 The fi rst PARP cycle launched in 1995 had 14 participants: Hungary, Poland, Czech

Republic, Latvia, Lithuania, Estonia, Slovakia, Slovenia, Romania, Bulgaria, Finland, Sweden, Albania and Ukraine. Anthony Cragg, “The Partnership For Peace and Review Process,” NATO Review, Vol. 43, No. 6 (November 1995), pp. 23–5.

18 The second PARP cycle launched in October 1996, which introduced interoperability objectives to permit partners’ forces to operate with allies, had 18 partners sign up.

19 The 16 partners participating in KFOR included: Austria, Finland, Ireland, Sweden and Switzerland; Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Slovakia, Slovenia, Romania and Bulgaria; Russia and Ukraine; and Georgia and Azerbaijan from the Caucasus.

20 In essence, Partnership Goals (PGs) for Interoperability and for Forces and Capabilities would replace the old interoperability objectives in 2000. The new PGs aimed to develop specifi c armed forces and capabilities that partners could offer in support of NATO operations and to permit partners in the EAPC greater participation in deliberations involving exercise planning.

21 The MAP identifi ed fi ve partner areas (political/economic, defense/military, resources, security, and legal) that were necessary to develop the capabilities needed for membership.

22 Croatia only joined PFP after the Washington Summit on 25 May 2000; later in May 2002 it joined the MAP.

23 The EAPC met 19 December 2001. Now 19 partners participated in PARP as Uzbekistan and Kazakhstan followed Azerbaijan, Georgia and Armenia.

24 Prague Summit Declaration Issued by the Heads of State and Government of the Atlantic Council in Prague on 21 November 2002. NATO Press Release (2002) 127, 21 November 2002.

108 J. Simon

25 See Partnership Action Plan Against Terrorism, 22 November 2002, paras 16.1–16.5. This initiative called on partners to: intensify political consultations and information sharing on armaments and civil emergency planning; enhance preparedness for combating terrorism by security sector reforms and force planning, air defense and air traffi c management, and armaments and logistics cooperation; impede support for terrorist groups by enhancing exchange of banking information and improving border controls of arms ranging from Weapons of Mass Destruction (WMD) to small arms and light weapons; enhance capabilities to contribute to consequence management of WMD-related terrorism and civil emergency planning; and provide assistance to partners’ efforts against terrorism through the Political Military Steering Committee (PMSC) Clearing House mechanism and the creation of a PFP Trust Fund.

26 Participants in ISAF were: PFP partners Finland, Sweden and Austria; MAP member Albania; and NATO invitees Romania and Bulgaria.

27 Participants in OEF were: Central Asian partners Kyrgyzstan and Uzbekistan; Black Sea partners Romania, Bulgaria and Ukraine; and MAP invitee Slovakia; with new members Poland and the Czech Republic.

28 SHAPE assisted Warsaw’s orientation and force generation conferences, the NATO School at Oberammergau helped train the multinational staff, AFSOUTH supported the Warsaw planning staff on logistics planning, NATO assisted the Poles to establish a secure satellite communications link and provided intelligence sharing and information management. NATO Press Release (2003) 93, 3 September 2002.

29 Participants in OIF were: MAP member Macedonia; MAP invitees Slovakia, Latvia, Lithuania and Estonia; Ukraine, Romania and Bulgaria on the Black Sea; Azerbaijan and Georgia in the Caucasus; and Kazakhstan in Central Asia.

30 The fi ve exceptions are the “advanced” partners: Sweden, Finland, Austria, Switzerland and Ireland.

31 In addition to the six littoral states – Turkey, Bulgaria, Romania, Ukraine, Russia and Georgia – BSEC’s original members included: Greece, Albania, Moldova, Armenia and Azerbaijan. In June 2002, BSEC enlarged to include Serbia-Montenegro. For further background on BSEC, see http://www.bsec-organization.org/.

32 In fact, on separate occasions responsible Bulgarians and Romanians have gone so far as to suggest privately that US ships could operate on the Black Sea under their fl ag to circumvent Montreux restrictions.

33 Liz Fuller, “GUUAM: Ukraine Aspires to Leadership Role in Revitalized Organization,” Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty, 27 April 2005. Also see Yalta GUUAM Charter, http://www.ukrainaemb.lv/guuam.htm.

34 Askar Akayev was also overthrown in Kyrgyzstan. 35 Eurasia Daily Monitor, Vol. 3, Issue 102, The Jamestown Foundation, 25 May 2006. 36 Richard Beeston, The Times (UK), 24 May 2006. 37 President Aliev reiterated this theme at the 5 June 2006 Black Sea Forum in Bucharest,

Romania, in the presence of Romanian president Basescu and Ukrainian president Yushchenko.

38 Ibid., para. 41. 39 The US, for over a decade, has been working closely with Georgia (and Uzbekistan in

Central Asia) on training forces to deal with their internal requirements.

SECTION III

7 NATO, the European Union, Russia and the fi ght against terrorism

Peter R. Neumann

Introduction

The notion of September 11, 2001, as “a day that changed the world” has become a truism. Al Qaeda’s dramatic attacks on Washington, D.C., and New York have led to two wars, a realignment of international alliances and coalitions, as well as – more generally – a distinct and almost instantaneous sense that a new chapter of international relations is about to be written. Indeed, according to John Lewis Gaddis, if the fall of the Berlin Wall signifi ed the end of the Cold War, the fall of the Twin Towers marked the end of the post-Cold War era.1 It seems almost natural, therefore, that intellectuals and policymakers have engaged in a sustained, though not always systematic, effort to reassess the continued relevance of major actors, relationships and institutions. The EU and Russia are two particularly interesting cases in point. Whereas Russia signifi ed the antagonism of the Cold War era, the European Union came to symbolize the hopes and aspirations in the immediate aftermath of the East–West confrontation – a period in which many believed that democracy and cooperation had eventually won the day.2

While it will be impossible to examine all the complex and sometimes diffuse changes that have occurred in the relationship between Russia and the EU, as well as their respective positions in the wider international system generally, the purpose of this paper is provide a snapshot of some of the issues and dynamics at the heart of this process. First, as terrorism appears to be one of the most signifi cant drivers of Western security policy in the post-9/11 era, I will assess whether Russia has a signifi cant role to play in the fi ght against it. Second, I will focus on whether the EU can be effective as an institutional mechanism through which to conduct a partnership with Russia on this issue. The argument presented here is that Russia’s role in the fi ght against terrorism is critical, but that the European Union – for political as well as institutional reasons – is not the channel through which this partnership should be pursued. I will conclude that, though the European Union may have a role to play in facilitating and coordinating assistance, bilateral relationships between EU member states and Russia will remain the predominant mode of cooperation. Indeed, given the EU’s inherent and structural limitations, European countries would be well-advised to look beyond Europe and consider the idea of a pragmatic “division of labor” that would allow for collaboration and

112 P.R. Neumann

partnership with others – principally, of course, Europe’s North American partners – in order to perform tasks that they cannot carry out themselves.

Russia’s role in the fi ght against terrorism

At fi rst sight, Russia appears to be at the margins of the international campaign against terrorism. Most of the terrorism we are currently faced with is of Middle Eastern origin. And while Russia has a substantial Muslim minority (about 20 million people), it is not generally perceived as a major source of recruits, fund-ing of logistical support for the global Salafi jihad – especially when compared to states like Saudi Arabia, Egypt, or even some Western European countries. This impres sion, however, is almost entirely wrong. Indeed, I would argue that Russia’s role in the global fi ght against terrorism is pivotal, and that much of our success in thwarting the terrorist threat depends on whether we can help (or persuade) Russia to play a constructive role.

In order to appreciate Russia’s signifi cance, it is essential to develop a strategic under standing of the threat. Terrorism is not a defi nable enemy. It is a tactic, some-times a strategy, and most experts agree that it is virtually impossible to eliminate it altogether.3 Furthermore, hardly anyone would argue that conventional terrorist attacks like those in Madrid or London represent an existential threat to our way of life, however unnecessary and tragic the loss of life in each of these instances may have been. From a strategic point of view, therefore, the threat is “manage-able,” and it will eventually be brought under control by a combination of good police work, increased intelligence capacities, effective risk communication, and a more systematic way of engaging vulnerable communities. The one exception, of course, is the possibility of terrorists acquiring weapons of mass destruction (WMD), especially nuclear weapons. Armed with a nuclear device, terrorists could kill not hundreds or thousands, but hundreds of thousands. They could threaten and coerce even the most powerful states, forcing them to reorder their national priori-ties and give up on vital interests. Jonathan Schell recently remarked that the use of a nuclear device by terrorists would alter the dynamics of international politics as profoundly as the end of the Cold War, and that – however small the probability – our grand strategy should be geared towards preventing terrorists from obtaining a nuclear weapon.4 In fact, there now seems to be a relatively broad consensus among Western scholars and policymakers that stopping the proliferation of WMD tops the list of strategic priorities in the fi ght against terrorism.5

Most of the proposals aimed at curbing the spread of WMD consist of two main elements, both of which underline Russia’s central role. The fi rst is the need to secure loose nuclear materials. Before its collapse in 1991, the Soviet Union had more than 35,000 nuclear weapons as well as suffi cient weapons-grade plutonium and enriched uranium to produce another 50,000.6 With the Ukraine, Belarus and Kazakhstan agreeing to end their nuclear power status, the main responsibility for dealing with this legacy now lies with Russia. While there have been no confi rmed reports of stolen or missing nuclear weapons, experts believe that substantial numbers are unaccounted for. Also, there is ample evidence of a signifi cant black

The European Union, Russia, and the fight against terrorism 113

market in nuclear materials, with almost two hundred reported smuggling incidents in the 1990s alone.7 Although numerous “threat reduction” initiatives have been undertaken in order to help Russia establish full control of its nuclear stockpiles, the country continues to be seen as the most likely source for terrorist WMD. In early 2004, Graham Allison estimated that half of the Soviet nuclear arsenal “remains inadequately secured.”8

The second main strand of most anti-proliferation strategies aims at limiting the number of nuclear powers. In this respect, Russia’s position is almost as signifi cant as in relation to the fi rst. As one of a very small number of states with the know-how, the technology and the necessary materials to construct WMD, it is critically important that Russia continues to observe the Non-Proliferation Treaty. More specifi cally, it is not only in the Western interest that Moscow refrains from selling its expertise to the highest bidder, but also that it prevents aspiring nuclear powers from recruiting Russian scientists or infi ltrating Russian nuclear installations.

Not least, given its position as a permanent member of the United Nations Security Council, Russia could play a vital part in making global anti-proliferation policies effective. Only with the full support of Russia will it be possible to present aspiring nuclear powers – especially, of course, Iran – with a united political front (including the possibility of sanctions under the relevant Chapters of the United Nations Charter), as well as pursue a coordinated and internationally legitimate approach vis-à-vis anti-proliferation and anti-terrorism generally. Unfortunately, Russia’s attitude towards Iran’s nuclear programme is highly ambiguous: whilst condemning Iran’s breaches of the Non-Proliferation Treaty, Russian companies continue to supply the regime in Tehran with the expertise and technology to make it work.

Russia’s strategic signifi cance in the global fi ght against terrorism extends beyond the nuclear issue. Among experts in terrorism and insurgency, it is almost universally agreed that terrorist groups and movements are more persistent and dangerous if they have a sanctuary or safe haven at their disposal. If based in a hostile environment, terrorist operations, recruitment, relations with the public, as well as the acquisition of arms and funds all need to be carried out in strict secrecy. Individual members are forced to lead double lives or cease their ordinary existences altogether. This has a signifi cant bearing on the terrorists’ effectiveness: the need to conceal one’s activities consumes much of the terrorists’ resources and is generally considered a distraction from their principal objective, namely to fi ght the perceived enemy. With a safe haven – usually in a jurisdiction different from that of the enemy – the terrorists can train and operate freely; there is no need to hide one’s identity or set up safe houses; the terrorists group may even hold press conferences and maintain open relations with the public. Arguably, the twenty-fi ve-year-long campaign of the Irish Republican Army could not have been sustained had the organisation not had the possibility of retreating from Northern Ireland to a less hostile environment in the Irish Republic. The same is true for Basque Homeland and Liberty (ETA), which maintained strategic bases in southwest of France, and the Palestinian Liberation Organisation (PLO), which found an operational safe haven in Jordan and – following its forceful expulsion

114 P.R. Neumann

in September 1970 – Lebanon. From a counter-terrorist perspective, therefore, eliminating such sanctuaries is a strategic priority to which considerable military and diplomatic efforts need to be dedicated.9

Russia, of course, has no intention of offering sanctuary to a terrorist group. Yet parts of its territory have been at risk of becoming lawless zones in which jihadist groups could set up operational bases. This has been true, in particular, for Chechnya and – more recently – neighbouring territories, which militant Islamists have considered not only as a potential safe haven but also as a jihadist battlefront in its own right. Like the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan in 1979, they have interpreted Moscow’s attempts to put down the separatist uprising as an effort to encroach upon Muslim lands.10 In early 1995, a small group of “Afghan Arabs,” who had sided with the Afghani mujahideen in the 1980s, arrived in Chechnya to lend their support to the Chechen insurgent movement. Led by a Saudi national, Amir Khattab, the International Islamic Battalion consisted of around 300 men, which fought alongside the rebels and took part in some of the most daring operations during the First Chechen War (1994–96).11 While relatively small in numbers, their participation had a profound impact on the dynamics of the confl ict. It added a group of experienced and highly committed fi ghters to the Chechen cause; it radicalized and brutalized the Chechen insurgency as a whole; and it facilitated access to the immense fi nancial resources of the global jihadist movement, including signifi cant contributions from Islamic charities and wealthy individuals in the Arab Gulf states.12 Most importantly perhaps, it introduced an Islamist agenda into an otherwise local confl ict. For Khattab, the issue was not Chechen independence, but the creation of an Islamic republic on the territory of the former Soviet Union. Consequently, when Russia withdrew from Chechnya in 1996, Khattab set up training camps for young Muslims from across the Caucasus, preparing them “for a never-ending jihad that was far greater in scope than the micro-republic envisioned by Chechnya’s nationalist leadership.”13 The destabilizing infl uence of this presence was demonstrated in September 1999, when the incursions of Islamist militants into the neighbouring Republic of Dagestan ignited the Second Chechen War.

The Caucasus assumed even greater signifi cance following the removal of the Taleban regime in Afghanistan. In the years prior to 2001, Afghanistan had been the principal operational sanctuary for the Salafi jihadis. When it ceased to exist, the Al Qaeda leadership and hundreds of foreign jihadis from across the world needed to fi nd a new home. While, for most, the most obvious choice were the tribal areas of Pakistan, others concluded that this could not be a permanent solu tion, especially given President Pervez Musharraf’s support for the Western coalition. The Caucasus was an attractive alternative. It was ideologically sound, as there was an ongoing jihad in which one could participate. At the same time, there existed a jihadi infrastructure with training camps and practically no functioning state authority that would interfere with their operations. As a result, Chechnya and the neighbouring territories – especially the Chechen-inhabited Pankisi Gorge in Georgia and, more recently, the Russian Republic of Dagestan14 – came to be seen as “the next Afghanistan.” Indeed, there is some evidence that these places


developed into a major base not only for the fi ght against the Russian presence in Chechnya, but the global jihad generally. For instance, Interpol and Western intelligence agencies believe that Al Qaeda’s “mad scientist,” Abu Khabab, moved his operations from Afghanistan to the Caucasus, with sightings of him reported across the region. Furthermore, in August 2002, Georgian security forces arrested a member of Al Qaeda’s leading council, Saif al-Islam el Masry, in Pankisi. And following the arrest of six North Africans, who were accused of producing ricin in a North London fl at, it transpired that they had been trained at the Pankisi Gorge camps.15

Although much of the terrorist infrastructure in the southeast of Chechnya and Pankisi Gorge has now been disabled, the ongoing presence of Salafi jihadis in the region continues to be a major concern. The conditions of virtual state collapse and widespread lawlessness have not only attracted terrorists, but also allowed private militias and organized crime to fl ourish. The region is at the centre of the two major drug-trading routes from Central Asia to Europe; it is awash with small arms; and there has been a steady rise in the reported cases of nuclear smuggling.16

From a Western perspective, this raises the worrying prospect of tactical coalitions between warlords, organized criminals, and terrorist groups, which could perpetuate the confl icts in the region as well as sustain the jihadis’ global terrorist campaign. Hence, even if the Caucasus does not turn into a fully-fl edged operational base for terrorist operations, it may serve as a more or less permanent source for terrorist funding and weapons. Indeed, Western offi cials believe that the easiest way for terrorists to obtain a nuclear device would be by enlisting the help of a Chechen criminal gang.17

From a strategic perspective, therefore, Russia is a crucial regional hub in the global campaign against terrorism. Its effectiveness in combating nuclear prolifera-tion and denying the emergence of terrorist safe havens may turn out to be critical. A failure to accomplish the latter – but especially the former – would have poten-tially disastrous consequences for Russia and Western countries alike.

The role of the European Union

Terrorism constitutes a major threat to the citizens of the EU. Several of its members states – most prominently, of course, Spain and the United Kingdom – have seen mass-casualty attacks by Islamist groups in recent years. In others – France and Germany, for example – terrorist plots have been prevented. And in a recent war-gaming exercise organized by the EU and NATO, experts concluded that the detonation of a crude nuclear device in Brussels would result in 40,000 dead, 300,000 injured, and a prolonged downturn in the continent’s economy.18

Given such dire predictions, one would expect the EU to be at the forefront of counter-terrorist cooperation with Russia. In reality, though, the EU has turned out to be a largely ineffective mechanism.

Russia’s support for the United States and its allies in the global campaign against terrorism after the September 11 attacks provided Russia and the EU with an opportunity to enhance their relationship, especially in the security fi eld. At the

116 P.R. Neumann

EU–Russia Summit in early October 2001, the two sides released a robust joint statement that described terrorist attacks as “acts of savagery,” and noted that “there can be no justifi cation for international, whatever its motives and origins.” It also contained a fi rm commitment to increased anti-terrorist cooperation, especially in international bodies such as the UN, as well as with regards to terrorist fi nancing, judicial and police cooperation, and the exchange of information.19 The results have been mixed. Diplomatic cooperation between Russia and EU member states, for example, in relation to the draft International Convention on the Suppression of Acts of Nuclear Terrorism, has been effective, though it is unclear what role the EU has played in this respect.

Regarding terrorist fi nancing, no specifi c mechanism for bilateral cooperation to address this issue was established. Both sides eventually agreed to rely on existing institutions, more specifi cally the G8-sponsored Financial Action Task Force. The commitment to improve the exchange of intelligence about terrorist individuals, groups, weapons and activities translated into an agreement between Russia and the EU to facilitate cooperation between Russian agencies and the European police agency Europol. At the same time, the EU’s powers in this area are very limited. (Indeed, one of the greatest diffi culties has been to persuade EU member states to share their intelligence with Europol.) Regarding police and judicial cooperation, the EU managed to set up a number of informal forums. Also, the work of its technical assistance facility TACIS, which aims to bring Russia’s judicial system closer to European standards, is widely judged as successful. More substantial cooperation, however, has been made diffi cult by European concerns about data protection, human rights and the lack of fair trials in Russia.20

Why hasn’t the EU managed to go further? In my view, there are two main reasons. The fi rst relates to the EU’s overall approach towards fi ghting terrorism. In contrast to the United States, where terrorism has come to be seen as a strategic threat of the highest order, most European countries – and especially the European Union – continue to perceive of terrorism as one priority amongst many others. Unlike many Americans, Europeans never found the idea of a “war on terrorism” appealing, nor indeed did they think the term was an appropriate description of the situation.21 This may have prevented European governments from over-reacting, but it has also encouraged a sense of complacency. As a result, terrorism has topped the European agenda only in the wake of dramatic attacks. Very soon afterwards, it was back to “business as usual,” with many of the agreed measures getting stuck in the bureaucratic fog of ministerial meetings, roundtables and committee hearings. Edwin E. Bakker observes “only terrorist attacks are able to force Europeans to overcome their difference and move EU anti-terrorism policy into higher gear … The speed and direction of our anti-terrorism efforts seems to depend on the terrorists rather than our politicians.”22 Another – albeit related – facet of the EU’s approach at fi ghting terrorism is the notion of terrorism as a symptom, which can only be resolved by removing its political and economic root causes. Rather than fi ghting terrorism per se, European statements about terrorism always highlight the need to look at its underlying factors, as well as the grievances and “drivers” that compel people to join terrorist groups. Given the European experience with


terrorism, there is also a tendency to view terrorism as geographically confi ned and rooted in particular regional confl icts.23 This may be laudable, yet – in combination with the comparatively low priority accorded to the issue generally – it means that the development of any meaningful cooperation between Russia and the EU in the area of counter-terrorism has been all but impossible.

It is not an exaggeration to say that the entire Russia–EU relationship has been overshadowed by controversies about the Russian policy towards Chechnya. While Russia has defended the application of harsh security measures against the province as part of the global campaign against Islamist terrorism and criticized European governments for giving asylum to rebel leaders,24 European lawmakers and offi cials have described Moscow’s actions as one of the primary causes for the persistence of the confl ict. Numerous statements by the European Parliament and – to a lesser extent – the European Commission have called on Russia to improve the political and human rights situation in Chechnya, implying – sometimes rather openly – that this was a pre-condition for achieving a more effective relationship with the EU. A report of the European Parliament’s Committee on Foreign Affairs stated:

An effective partnership in combating terrorism … presupposes a reasonable degree of common understanding of the defi nition and causes of terrorism. The key to fi ght terrorism in Russia is to resolve the confl ict in Chechnya. Unquestionably, Chechen armed groups commit atrocities … But federal and local government armed forces continue to commit grave breaches of human rights and international humanitarian laws.25

An earlier resolution, adopted by the European Parliament as a whole, went even further, declaring that “the ongoing confl ict in Chechnya and the massive human rights violation taking place there are an insurmountable [sic] obstacle to the development of a genuine partnership between the EU and Russia.”26 Indeed, this was echoed by the EU’s then External Relations Commissioner, Chris Patten, who – when referring to Chechnya – pointed out that “the fact that you are trying to sort out problems with another country should not ever in my view stop you raising questions which that country may fi nd diffi cult or sensitive.”27

Again, the European Union’s principled stance on the thorny issue of Chechnya may be praiseworthy. It is undoubtedly true that Moscow’s heavy-handed approach towards the province has made the confl ict worse. The use of heavy artillery against civilian targets as well as the de facto suspension of political rights has helped radicalize the Chechen population, blurring the public’s distinction between perpetrator and victim and providing the rebels with a seemingly never-ending stream of recruits. At the same time, as even the most fervent supporters of the EU would admit, the EU’s public shaming of Moscow’s Chechnya policy has never been likely to achieve any shift in Russian policy. Public condemnation aside, the EU has never employed any other means of exerting pressure in this respect, nor would the member states have allowed it to do so. In relation to, say, Romania or Turkey, voicing public concern about the functioning of the judicial system or the treatment of minorities may indeed have been effective as a way of bringing about

118 P.R. Neumann

political change. In contrast to both Romania and Turkey, however, Russia is not an EU accession country, and the “carrot” of EU membership could therefore not be part of the bilateral equation. As a consequence, the EU’s stance on Chechnya has amounted to little more than an exercise at public grandstanding, aimed at the European public’s liberal conscience rather than hoping to effecting any signifi cant change of behaviour. The most unfortunate consequence of this has been to make the development of any form of meaningful relationship with Russia on counter-terrorism issues impossible.

The second reason for the EU’s failure to extend its anti-terrorism cooperation with Russia relates to the nature of the EU as an international organisation. The EU is not a national government. It cannot arrest or prosecute terrorists, nor can it deploy intelligence offi cers or satellites in order to track them. Most counter-terrorism work is done by policemen and national intelligence agencies. Even during cross-border investigations, security agencies tend to favour bilateral rather than multilateral interactions. After all, secret intelligence information is considered by most governments a national asset, which was obtained at great expense and will be shared only if tangible benefi ts can be gained through such cooperation.28 In practical terms, therefore, it will be hard to convince governments that there is need or justifi cation for Estonia or Malta to be involved when France and Spain carry out a joint operation aimed at uncovering an ETA cell.

The EU’s diffi culties in this area are compounded by the fact that counter-terrorism is not in itself a clearly defi ned area of policymaking. At the national level, it involves a long list of departments and government agencies, including law enforcement and intelligence, immigration and border control, foreign and defence, fi nance, as well as even health. In federally structured political systems (for example, Germany or Belgium), the bureaucratic nightmare of coordinating counter-terrorism policy across government departments extends to the vertical level, with core competencies in the fi ght against terrorism, such as law enforcement and intelligence collection, residing with local or state authorities rather than national government.29 As a consequence, trying to coordinate the collective efforts of twenty-fi ve governments at the EU level is considered neither feasible nor even desirable by many observers.30

The underlying political reason for this institutional problem, however, is not merely technical. In political terms, EU member states have proved unwilling to give the Union the responsibilities and resources it would need to be truly effective. Counter-terrorism goes to the core of national sovereignty, and governments are – perhaps understandably – reluctant to give the EU powers that would dilute, or interfere with, the authority to protect their nations from physical attack. This, of course, is true not only in the area of counter-terrorism. While EU cooperation on issues like agriculture, trade and even monetary policy has exceeded that of any other multi-governmental institution anywhere in the world, all attempts to extend supranational governance to the area of foreign policy have met with only limited success. When the notion of a “common foreign and security policy” was introduced as one of the three pillars of the Maastricht Treaty in 1992, there were high hopes that European nations would come to speak with one voice on


matters of international concern. (Some even believed that France and the United Kingdom would one day give up their permanent representations on the UN Security Council in favour of a joint European seat.) In practice, a truly common foreign and security policy has emerged only in the very small number of areas in which no vital national interests were believed to be at stake. Yet, whenever issues of foreign policy were thought to involve fundamental choices about how one’s country would be perceived by the rest of the world, member states have happily sacrifi ced the aspiration of a joint approach.31 This, of course, was amply demonstrated during the Iraq crisis in the years 2002–03, but it is probably true for member states’ relations with big powers – principally Russia, China and the United States – generally.

In the case of EU relations with Russia, the challenge of developing a meaningful approach has therefore not only been the technocratic one of coordinating a number of different policy areas and responsibilities, but also – more substantially – one of competing political agendas. Indeed, it would be naïve to assume that the EU could develop a relationship with a country as signifi cant as Russia in a political vacuum. The Union’s new members – most of which Eastern European – have been more cautious in their approach towards Russia, insisting on fi rm commitments to human rights, democratic freedoms and the rule of law before an extension of the partnership to areas like trade should be considered. Moreover, countries like Poland – for good historical reasons – are highly suspicious of too intimate a relationship between Russia and the larger European powers, especially Germany.32

Even the older member states – in particular the “big three” (the United Kingdom, Germany and France) – have all pursued their own independent foreign policies towards Russia, sometimes in competition with each other as well as with the EU. For instance, while the EU expressed deep concern about President Putin’s commitment to the rule of law following the arrest of Michail Khodorkowsky, a number of EU member states discreetly supplied the Russian government with information about Khodorkowsky’s fi nancial transactions. According to a widely respected investigative journalist, German Chancellor Gerhard Schroeder personally gave Putin an intelligence dossier, which had been put together by German intelligence with the explicit purpose of helping the Russian authorities to make a better case against the oligarch.33 Arguably, Russia is fully aware of such divisions and competing interests among European countries, and has become exceedingly skilful at exploiting them.34

The attempt to develop a meaningful relationship between Russia and the EU on the issue of counter-terrorism has therefore been marred with diffi culties. While some of these relate, more narrowly, to different perceptions of the terrorism issue, others concern the nature of the EU as a supra-national institution with limited competencies in the policy areas that would be most relevant to developing a successful partnership with Russia, namely security and defence. In combination, they tend to reinforce the idea that the EU cannot – indeed, must not – become the main institutional channel through which to assist Russia in addressing the threat from terrorism.

120 P.R. Neumann

Conclusion

This paper aimed to address the relationship between the EU and Russia in the fi ght against terrorism. From a strategic perspective, Russia’s role in this global campaign is pivotal. As the main source of loose nuclear materials, as well as given the country’s potentially signifi cant infl uence in anti-proliferation policy generally, Russia is a critical player in the global effort to ensure that terrorists will not obtain WMD, which would turn terrorism a major strategic threat. Furthermore, Russia’s infl uence in – and, to some extent, direct political control of – the Caucasus region has an important bearing on whether it will be possible to prevent the emergence of fi xed operational bases in which Salafi jihadist can fi nd sanctuary. Of particular relevance are the Russian Republics of Dagestan and Chechnya, but also neighbouring territories in other states, such as Pankisi Gorge in Georgia. Helping Russia to play a positive role, in particular by settling separatist confl icts and end the general state of virtual state collapse and lawlessness in the North Caucasus, is not merely a regional issue, but will be of direct consequence to the global campaign against terrorism.

Since the events of September 11 the EU has attempted to play a leading role in facilitating a partnership with Russia in the area of counter-terrorism, albeit with limited success. It is important to examine the reasons for this failure, because the nature of the explanation will determine whether the EU can and should continue to pursue its efforts in the future. In my view, the EU’s lack of success has been caused by differences in outlook as well as the substantial limitations of its institu-tional structure. Regarding the former, it seems obvious that the EU and European countries generally not only perceive of terrorism as less than a strategic threat, it also has a fundamentally different conception from Russia of what is needed in order to address that threat. As a result, the relationship has been made diffi cult by disagreements and empty rhetoric, especially regarding the situation in Chechnya, which have hindered the development of a successful partnership. Regarding the latter, the main problem lies in the fact that the EU is not a sovereign actor. Furthermore, notwithstanding the fact that the EU does not have the competen-cies to effect a full bilateral relationship on counter-terrorism issues, I have shown that the EU is competing with – and sometimes contradicting – its member states’ national political agenda.

My main conclusion is that the EU is not in a position to develop a full partnership with Russia in the area of counter-terrorism. Considering how important it would be to constructively involve Russia in addressing this threat, one may even say that it would be detrimental to national and – ultimately – global security if the EU was given wider responsibilities in this area. In practice, responsibility for international cooperation in the fi eld of counter-terrorism will continue to lie with individual nation states. The EU may play a useful role in facilitating such cooperation, in technical capacity building or as an ad hoc forum for wider discussions, but it cannot replace the nation state. European policymakers – especially those hoping to advance the European project – must recognize the EU’s limitations in this area.

Indeed, the area of counter-terrorism cooperation is one in which a compelling case could be made for strengthening the transatlantic partnership. Clearly, as we


have seen, there are areas in which European states will not have the capacity to act either individually or collectively. Conversely, when it comes to “softer” issues such as economic aid, reconstruction, broad political engagement and the reaching out to “rogue” regimes, Europe may well have political assets that could be of value to the United States. In my view, therefore, European countries would be well advised to consider the idea of a pragmatic “division of labor” between themselves and their transatlantic partners. In the case of Russia and counter-terrorism, such an approach would make it possible for the EU to continue (and expand) its activities in some of the areas in which it has been successful – such as technical assistance – whilst relieving the institution from tasks in which it can only fail. This would be more honest than the current approach as well as genuinely pro-European, not least because it will make global counter-terrorism cooperation more effective and thus help protect the continent from further terrorist atrocities.

Notes

1 John Lewis Gaddis, interviewed on “The End of the Post Cold War Era,” National Public Radio, 18 October 2001.

2 Most prominently, these ideas were embodied in, and symbolized by, Francis Fukuyama’s idea of the “end of history.” See Francis Fukuyama, The End of History and the Last Man (New York: Free Press, 1992).

3 See Peter R. Neumann and M. L. R. Smith, The Strategy of Terrorism (London: Routledge, 2007).

4 Jonathan Schell, remarks at the International Summit on Democracy, Terrorism and Security, Madrid, 10 March 2005. See http://www.safe-democracy.org.

5 See Stephen M. Walt, “A New Grand Strategy for the War on Terrorism,” paper delivered at the National Policy Forum on Terrorism, Security and America’s Purpose, 6–7 September 2005, Washington, D.C. See http://www.americaspurpose.org.

6 See Marco de Andreis and Francesco Calogero, The Soviet Nuclear Weapon Legacy (Stockholm: SIPRI Research Report, 1995).

7 Most of these incidents involved “nuclear junk,” which cannot be used in nuclear devices. At the same time, it is reported that on at least 15 occasions, weapons-grade material was seized. Oleg Bukharin, Renewing the Partnership: Recommendations for Accelerated Action to Secure Nuclear Material in the Former Soviet Union (Princeton, NJ: Russian American Security Advisory Council, 2000), p. 5.

8 See Graham T. Allinson, Nuclear Terrorism: The Ultimate Preventable Catastrophe(New York: Henry Holt, 2004).

9 See Louise Richardson, “Global Rebels: Terrorist Organizations as Trans-National Actors,” Harvard International Review, 20 (4) (1998).

10 Gilles Kepel, Jihad: The Trail of Political Islam (London: I.B. Tauris, 2003), p. 222. 11 Rohan Gunaratna, Inside Al Qaeda: Global Network of Terror, 2nd edn (London: Hurst,

2002), pp. 134–5.

122 P.R. Neumann

12 On the role of charities in funding regional confl icts such as Chechnya, see Evan Kohlman, Al-Qaida’s Jihad in Europe (Oxford and New York: 2004), chap. 3 (“The Role of the Islamic Charities”).

13 Brian Glyn Williams, “The ‘Chechen Arabs’: An Introduction to the Real al-Qaeda Terrorists from Chechnya,” Jamestown Terrorism Monitor, 2 (1) (2004).

14 Domitilla Sagramoso, interview with author, 28 November 2005. 15 Williams, see note 13. 16 Svante E. Cornell, “The Growing Threat of Transnational Crime,” Chaillot Paper 65

(2003), pp. 35–7. 17 Alex P. Schmid, interview with author, March 2005. 18 Ian Black, “EU Faces Nuclear Terror Threat,” Guardian, 5 May 2004. 19 “EU Russia Summit: Statement on International Terrorism,” 3 October 2001. http://

ec.europa.eu/external_relations/russia/summit_10_01/dc_en.htm. 20 Domitilla Sagramoso, Russia’s Western Orientation after 11th September: Russia’s

Enhanced Co-operation with NATO and the European Union (Rome: Centro Militare di Studi Strategici, 2004), pp. 27–41.

21 See Ronald D. Crelinsten, “The EU–US Partnership in the Area of Counterterrorism: A Multicentric View,” in Dan Hansen and Magnus Ranstorp, eds, Cooperating Against Terrorism: EU–US Relations Post September 11 (Stockholm: Swedish National Defence College, 2007), pp. 53–98.

22 Edwin E. Bakker, “The Cracks in EU Anti-terrorism Co-operation that Invite Attack,” Europe’s World, 1 (1) (2005), p. 133.

23 Crelinsten, “The EU–US Partnership,” pp. 71–2. 24 Dimitri Trenin, “Russia and Anti-terrorism,” Chaillot Paper 74 (2005), p. 106. 25 “Report on EU–Russian Relations,” European Parliament, A6-0135/2005, 4 May

2005. 26 Quoted in Jo Leinen, “EU and Russia Draw Closer, but Political Concerns Remain,”

European Integration, Winter 2005. 27 “Declaration by The Rt Hon. Chris Patten at the European Parliament Development

Committee,” European Parliament, IP/02/1655, 12 November 2002. 28 William Rosenau, “Liaisons Dangereuses? Transatlantic Intelligence Cooperation and

the Global War on Terrorism,” in Hansen and Ranstorp, see note 21, pp. 31–40. 29 See, for example, Tessa Szyszkowitz, “Germany,” in Karin von Hippel, ed., Europe

Confronts Terrorism (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2005), pp. 43–58. 30 Daniel Keohane, “The EU and Counter-terrorism,” Working Paper of the Centre for

European Reform, May 2005, pp. 17–22. 31 See Dov Lynch, “Struggling With an Indispensable Partner,” Chaillot Paper 74 (2005),

pp. 117–18. 32 Sandra Kalniete, “EU Relations With Russia Must Focus on Values, Not Trade,”

Europe’s World, 1 (1) (2005), pp. 24–9. 33 Erich Schmidt-Eenboom, quoted in „Die angebliche deutsche Mitschuld am Irak-

Krieg“, Saar-Echo, 22 November 2005. 34 Trenin, see note 24, p. 110.

8 Can Russia be a partner for NATO in the Middle East?

Robert O. Freedman

Introduction

In working to answer the question of whether Russia could be a partner for NATO in the Middle East, one must begin with a more fundamental question. As Russia moves increasingly away from democracy under Putin, it is necessary to ask whether a country that does not share basic values such as democracy with the NATO countries can be a genuine partner for the organization. I don’t plan to answer that question in this essay, only to point out that before NATO leaders plan major cooperative activities with Russia, they should keep in mind the question of the increasing lack of Russian democracy.

My task in this paper, after describing Russian leader Vladimir Putin’s domestic and foreign policies, is to present four case studies of Russian behavior in Middle East confl ict areas, and to abstract from the case studies some general comments on Russian policy behavior in order to determine whether Russia could be a genuine partner for NATO. The four case studies are: 1 The war on terrorism; 2 Russia’s relations with Iraq; 3 Russia’s relations with Iran; and, more briefl y, 4 Russia’s relations with Syria. Before beginning the analysis it is, of course, necessary to defi ne what partnership means in the international community. I defi ne a partner to mean a country which, while following its own interests, as all states do in the international system, nonetheless, on matters of major importance, is willing to subordinate its own interests to the greater good. As will be shown, it is a very open question as to whether Russia meets this defi nition.

Putin’s domestic and foreign policies

One of the most striking aspects of the Putin presidency has been his ability to bring the quasi-independent players in Russian domestic and foreign policy of the Yeltsin era under much tighter centralized control. Thus Putin has all but eliminated the political infl uence of oligarchs Boris Berezovsky, Vladimir Gusinsky and Mikhail Khodorkovsky and taken over their media outlets. He has replaced Yevgeny Adamov, head of the Ministry of Atomic Energy (Minatom, now Rosatom), who had a habit of trying to make nuclear deals with Iran not approved of by the Kremlin, with Alexander Rumyantsev, who in November 2005 was, in turn, replaced by Sergei Kiriyenko.1

124 R.O. Freedman

The powerful gas monopoly, Gazprom, heavily involved in Turkey and Central Asia, had its director, Rem Vekhirev replaced by Alexei Miller, while the Defense Ministry had its leader, Defense Minister Igor Sergeev, replaced by the Secretary of the National Security Council, Sergei Ivanov. Two other holdovers from the Yeltsin era were also removed. Prime Minister Mikhail Khazyanov has been replaced by Mikhail Fradkov and Foreign Minister Igor Ivanov was replaced by Sergei Lavrov.

Putin also changed interior ministers, set up plenipotentiaries to oversee Russia’s 89 regions, and consolidated Russia’s arms sales agencies into Rosoboronoexport, in an effort to gain greater control over a major source of foreign exchange. Putin also put a great deal of emphasis on improving Russia’s economy, not only through the sale of arms, oil and natural gas (the Russian economy has been blessed with high oil and natural gas prices during most of his years in offi ce) but also by sell-ing high tech goods such as nuclear reactors and by expanding Russia’s business ties abroad. Indeed, business interests have played an increasingly signifi cant role in Putin’s foreign policy.

Making Putin’s task easier was the support he received from the Duma, espe-cially from his Edinstvo [Unity] party – now the enlarged United Russian Party – in contrast to the hostile relations Yeltsin had with the Duma from 1993 until his resignation as Russia’s president in December 1999. Indeed, in the Duma elections of December 2003, Putin greatly increased his support, weakening both the communist and liberal parties that were his main opponents, and he scored an over whelm ing victory in the 2004 presidential elections.

Overall, Putin’s central foreign policy aim has been to strengthen the Russian economy in the hope that, in the not too distant future, Russian might regain its status as a great power. In the interim he has sought to create an “arc of stability” on Russia’s frontiers so that economic development can proceed as rapidly as possible. This was one of the reasons Putin embraced an improved relationship with Turkey and ended Russian opposition to the Baku–Ceyhan pipeline. In theory, at least, Putin’s goal would appear to require a policy of increased cooperation with the members of NATO.

At the same time, however, mindful of voices in the Duma – now represented most strongly by the Rodina [Motherland] party that had been created by the Kremlin to weaken the Russian Communist party – as well as in the security apparatus and the Russian foreign ministry unhappy at Moscow’s appearing to play “second fi ddle” to the US post-9/11 even as NATO was moving closer to the borders of Russia, Putin has from time to time asserted an independent position for Russia, as Moscow’s behavior during the recent war in Iraq and the more assertive Russian policy in 2005 and 2006 indicated. Indeed, increasingly Russian foreign policy looks like it is seeking to create the “multipolar world” advocated by former Russian foreign minister and prime minister Yevgeny Primakov, who is now a Putin adviser. As will be shown, the tension between these two alternative thrusts of Russian foreign policy, cooperating with NATO but also competing with it, clearly impacts the possibility of Russia’s becoming a genuine partner for NATO.

This tension became increasingly evident following a series of reversals

Can Russia be a partner for NATO in the Middle East? 125

encountered by Putin in 2004. Following the replacement of Edouard Shevardnadze in December 2003 by the much more pro-Western Mikhail Saakashivili, Putin suf-fered an embarrassing failure in the Ukraine in November and December 2004 when, following the mass demonstrations of the Orange Revolution the pro-Western Viktor Yushchenko defeated the pro-Russian candidate Victor Yanukovich in a presidential re-election that Putin had publicly opposed. Making matters worse for Putin was the debacle at Beslan in September 2004 when a Chechen rebel attack on a school led to the loss of 332 Russian lives following a bungled rescue mission. While Putin sought to capitalize on the incident by tightening control over Russia’s governors (he would now appoint them) and political parties and even more sharply limiting the vestiges of Russian democracy, as well as by blaming outside powers for wanting to dismantle Russia, the Beslan incident underlined Putin’s major failure – his inability to bring the Chechen rebellion under control. Domestically, Putin also had problems in 2004. His efforts to transform “payments in kind” to cash payments stirred up opposition from Russian pensioners, while his heavy handed prosecution of oligarch Mikhail Khodorkovsky led to renewed capital fl ight from Russia and a chilling of the atmosphere for foreign investment.

As we shall see, these events which put Putin on the defensive and challenged his image of a strong leader of a strong state, were to play a major role in Putin’s de-cision to go ahead with the supply of nuclear fuel to the Bushehr reactor in February 2005, despite serious American objections, as well as with the provision of arms to Syria, which was under heavy international pressure for its purported involve ment in the assassination of former Lebanese prime minister, Rafi k Hariri.2

The war on terrorism

While much has been made of Russian cooperation with NATO post-9/11, par-ticu larly its acquiescence in US bases in Central Asia and its sharing of military intelligence,3 it should be pointed out that Russia itself benefi ted greatly from the destruction of the Taliban regime in Afghanistan and the severe damage caused to the Islamic Movement of Uzbekistan (IMU) which together posed a serious threat not only to Central Asia, the soft underbelly of Russia, but also to Russia itself through the threat of the radicalization of Russia’s 20 million person Muslim population.4

Putin also took advantage of 9/11 to try to rally international support for his war against the Chechen rebels, whom he labeled as terrorists. While he received more support for this effort in the United States than in the European states of NATO, he also made a major effort to cultivate the Muslim world to limit their aid to the Chechen rebels who, in the Second Chechen War with Russia, had exploited Islam as a rallying point against Russia.5

Unsuccessful in putting down the increasingly Islamist rebellion during his fi rst three years in offi ce, and embarrassed by the Chechen seizure of a Moscow theater in October 2002, in the Spring of 2003 Putin embarked on a new policy. This involved a referendum and new elections in Chechnya – both of which were seen as bogus by Western and even Russian observers – which brought into power

126 R.O. Freedman

in Chechnya a one-time Chechen opponent of Moscow, Akhmad Kadyrov, whom Putin sought to legitimize in the Muslim world, along with Russian policy toward Chechnya. Putin’s policy which was aimed at neutralizing Islamic support for the Chechen terrorists, had two elements: fi rst, a warming of relations with Saudi Arabia, the most infl uential Islamic state, and second, a quest for membership in the Islamic Conference of States (OIC).

Prior to the visit of Saudi Crown Prince Abdullah to Moscow in September 2003, Russian–Saudi relations were, at best, mixed.6 While both countries had an interest in keeping oil prices stable (and high), although from time to time there were tactical disputes on pricing and Russia was reluctant to limit its oil production which provided one-third of its state revenues, Chechnya soured the relationship. Moscow accused Riyadh of funding not only the Chechen rebels, but post-9/11 of funding other terrorist groups as well. Still, when Saudi Arabia itself suffered a major terrorist attack in May 2003, Putin seized on the opportunity and spoke out on the similarity of that attack to the ones in Moscow by Chechen rebels, stating, “the hand writing is absolutely identical in both places. And the effect is absolutely comparable.”7

Putin’s speech set the tone for the September 2003 Moscow visit of Crown Prince Abdullah. Putin, while also seeking (and getting) deals for Russian companies during the visit, had as his major goal the gaining of Saudi legitimization for Russian policy in Chechnya. Consequently, a meeting was arranged between Crown Prince Abdullah, then the de facto ruler of Saudi Arabia, and Chechen leader Kadyrov, who stated following the meeting that the Saudis had condemned what was happening in Chechnya and said that it had nothing to do with Islam.8

Kadyrov also was given an invitation to visit Saudi Arabia, which he did four months later in January 2004, reportedly extracting from the Saudis promises that their charitable foundations would stop funding the Chechen rebels, and would now fund the new Chechen government instead.9

The other element of Putin’s policy of securing Islamic legitimization for Russia’s policy in Chechnya involved courting other key Islamic leaders, and, if at all possible, gaining membership for Russia in the OIC. This effort accelerated during a Putin visit to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia in August 2003. Malaysia was a key country in Putin’s strategy because it was to host the next Islamic summit in October 2003 and would be the OIC leader until 2006. Besides securing deals for the sale of 18 SU-30 fi ghter bombers, Putin obtained the support of the outspoken Malaysian leader Mahathir Mohamed for Russian membership in the OIC.10

At the OIC meeting in Malaysia in October 2003 Putin made the Russian case for observer status (something Russia was to achieve in 2005), noting that the number of Russian mosques had grown from 870 in 1991 to 7000 in 2003 and that the 20 million Muslims “peacefully and productively” living in Russia dis-proved the theory of the clash of civilizations.11 Putin also brought a number of Russian Muslim leaders to the OIC meeting including, of course, Chechen leader Kadyrov. As far as Chechnya was concerned, Putin noted that the situation there was “returning to normal” and in not-so-veiled criticism of the US, stated, “some are involved in practising terrorism. Others are using this situation for their own


mercenary ends, as a tool of political pressure to achieve their own goals, which have nothing in common with the interests of Islam, with protecting human rights, or with international law in general.”12

Unfortunately for Putin, the fi rst track of his policy, building legitimacy for the Chechen regime of Akhmed Kadyrov in order to quiet the turmoil in Chechnya, soon became untracked. On 13 February 2004, one week after a Chechen terrorist bombing of a Moscow subway that killed 42 people and wounded more than 250,13

Russian agents in Qatar assassinated the former Chechen president, Zelimikhan Yandarbiyev. Yandarbiyev had been blamed by the Russian leadership for aiding the Chechen terrorists who seized the Moscow theater in October 2002. Initially, Moscow took a tough line with Qatar over the incident, with Foreign Minister Sergei Lavrov stating, “In Qatar, unfortunately, both now and in the past, founda-tions and charitable organizations, in the guise of charitable and other activities, have in fact been gathering information for the fi nancing of terrorist and extremist organizations.”14

Nonetheless, the Qatari regime held tough as well, at least initially, and by the end of June following their trial, a Qatari court sentenced two of the suspected Russians (the third had diplomatic immunity) to life imprisonment. Fortunately for the two Russians, however, by December the Qatari regime had relented and the two were returned to Russia.15 However, the assassination could not have helped Russia’s position in the Gulf Emirates, or Moscow’s efforts to cut down on their dona tions to the Chechens in the short run at least, as Putin was to visit Qatar in 2007.

An even worse blow to Moscow came on 11 May 2004 when Putin’s hand-picked Chechen leader, Akhmed Kadyrov, was assassinated in Grozny, and his murder was followed by a series of Chechen attacks in Chechnya, Ingushetia, Moscow (another suicide bombing in a subway), the suicide bombings on two Russians airliners which killed 93 people, and worst of all, the seizure of a school in Beslan, Northern Ossetia, which led to the deaths of an estimated 332 hostages and security personnel, more than half of whom were school children.16

As the Chechen attacks mounted, Putin took a number of steps to counter them, although the moves did give Putin an international umbrella of support, at least initially, they did little to solve the Chechen terrorist problem. Thus after opposing Bush’s plan on non-proliferation in late January 2004, which involved the seizing of ships, trucks, cars and aircraft on the grounds that they might be carrying WMD,17 soon after Kadyrov’s assassination Russia signed on to the proposal.18

Later, in June 2004, in what would be a precursor of a major international effort after Beslan, Putin rallied the Shanghai Cooperation Organization into supporting his anti-terrorist position, with the statement issued after the meeting in Tashkent asserting, “The global threat of terrorism must be countered by a global system of opposition with the UN at its central core, this system must be supported by regional, sub-regional and national structures.”19

Then following the Beslan school seizure in September 2004, Putin embarked on a major campaign to get international assistance against Chechen terrorism. This involved getting pledges of support from such disparate countries as the US,

128 R.O. Freedman

Spain, India, Turkey, Iran and Israel with which an anti-terrorism cooperation agree ment was signed.20

Putin also went to the United Nations and obtained a unanimous UN Security Council declaration denouncing the school seizure which asserted, “The Council condemns in the strongest terms the taking of hostages at a Russian school, as well as other terrorist acts committed against civilians in Moscow and aboard the two airliners.” The statement also asserted that “acts of terrorism are criminal and unjustifi able regardless of their motivation.”21

The Russian leader, however, had less success with the Europeans. At a meet ing of the Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe (PACE) in Stroudsberg, Moscow got a discussion of terrorism placed on the agenda and used the opportu-nity to introduce to the Europeans and hopefully legitimize, Kadyrov’s successor as Chechen president, Alu Alkhanov. Unfortunately for Moscow, however, when the Russian delegations proposed an amendment that Chechnya now had a legitimately and lawfully elected president (Alkhanov) the motion was rejected, with the Swiss delegate, Andreas Gross, declaring that there had been so many irregularities in the Chechen presidential election that Alkhanov could not be recognized as being lawfully elected.22

Besides criticizing PACE Putin has been critical of a number of NATO countries and especially Britain for harboring Chechen “terrorists” with some Russian commentators blaming the subway attacks in London in July 2005 on Britain’s permissive attitude toward terrorists.23

However, Moscow has pursued, especially since 2003, a very self-centered, if not hypocritical policy on terrorism. Thus despite signing an anti-terrorist agreement with Israel in September 2004, it continues to refuse to put the Palestinian terrorist organization Hamas on its terrorist list24 – and Hamas is seen as a terrorist organization by the US and almost all NATO countries. Indeed, Moscow voted in the UN in October 2004 one month after its anti-terrorism agreement with Israel, to condemn an Israeli attack on Hamas operatives in Gaza.25 Similarly, despite pressuring Turkey to crack down on Chechen terrorists, it has failed to put the anti-Turkish PKK terrorist organization on its offi cial terrorist list.26 Finally the Russian effort in July 2005, as part of the Shanghai Cooperation Organization, to have the US expelled from its bases in Central Asia, even as the Taliban were stepping up their attacks in Afghanistan cannot be considered the act of a genuine partner in the anti-terrorist effort.26

The height of Russian hypocrisy over terrorism, however, was to come in 2006. Following the Palestinian Legislative Council elections in January 2006 which were to result in a victory for Hamas – a development which Putin called a “very serious blow” to American diplomacy in the Middle East – the diplomatic Quartet (the US, UN, EU and Russia) met to deal with the new situation. The Quartet decided not to provide any assistance to a Hamas government unless it renounced terrorism, recognized Israel’s right to exist, and respected international agreements for an Arab–Israel peace settlement, such as the Oslo Accords and the Quartet’s Road Map. Almost immediately thereafter, however, Putin invited a Hamas delegation to Moscow, proclaiming that Hamas was not on the Russian


terrorist list, and hence not considered a terrorist organization – a clear change from Russian policy in 2000 when Sergei Ivanov, then head of Russia’s Security Council, had stated to a visiting Israeli delegation that what they were facing in Gaza and the West Bank (the Hamas-led Al-Aksa Intifada) was exactly what Russia was battling in Chechnya.28

When the Hamas delegation came to Moscow in early March, Putin had a number of objectives. First, by inviting Hamas, he associated Russia with the Arab consensus which was to give Hamas time to change its policies, but in the meanwhile to work with a Hamas government and not to sanction it. Such a position not only enabled Russia to pursue an independent position in the Middle East, it also enabled the Arab world to play Moscow against Washington and Europe, and Russia was widely praised in the Arab world for the invitation. Another goal of Putin was to get Hamas to downplay the Chechen issue, and the Hamas delegation complied, with delegation leader Khaled Mashal stating after meeting with Lavrov, that the Checken separatists were “an internal problem of Russia.”29 This drew a bitter reaction from the Chechen rebels, who called Hamas’ decision to visit Putin’s Russia, which had killed so many Chechen Muslims, not only regrettable but also “un-Islamic.”30

For its part, the Hamas delegation, which refused while in Moscow to compromise over its refusal to recognize Israel, was coming to Russia primarily in search of international legitimacy. Indeed, Hamas spokesman Sami Abu Zuhri said, on the eve of the visit, “Now Hamas is on the threshold of international legitimacy, thanks to the visit by Hamas leaders to Moscow.”31 Further legitimizing Hamas during the visit was its visit with the Russian Mufti Council chairman (besides discussions, they also prayed together) and the Russian Patriarch. It was clear that Putin used the Hamas visit to Moscow to improve the position of Russia in the Middle East at the expense of the United States. He also used the visit of an avowedly Islamic organization to de-legitimize the Islamic nature of the Chechen rebellion, even as he was legitimizing Hamas’ role in Middle East diplomacy.

In sum, given Putin’s speech at the OIC in 2003, his policy toward Hamas and the PKK, and his efforts to terminate US bases in Central Asia, Moscow cannot be seen as a genuine partner in the war on terrorism.

Russia’s relations with Iraq

Prior to the Anglo-American attack on March 2003, which overthrew the regime of Saddam Hussein, Putin had two central goals in Iraq. The fi rst was to obtain the more than $8 billion dollars owed to Russia by Iraq. The second was to support the development of major Russian business ties with Iraq, especially Moscow’s oil companies. Such deals, however (other than oil-for-food purchases which were quite profi table for Moscow), could only take place when UN sanctions against Iraq were lifted. Consequently Moscow energetically pushed for the lifting of sanctions until the war broke out.

Nonetheless as the US moved inexorably closer to war in 2002, Putin faced a clear dilemma – how to maintain good relations with the US while at the same

130 R.O. Freedman

time protecting Russia’s extensive business interests in Iraq and its hopes for future contracts there. As the crisis deepened, however, Putin saw some benefi ts fl owing to Russia. Oil prices, on which Russia depended for more than one-third of its tax revenues, shot up from $25 per barrel to an average $38 per barrel, giving Russia an economic windfall. Under the circumstances, the Russian leader adopted a dual strategy. First, he sought to prevent the war by calling for the UN Security Council to legitimize any decision to go to war. Second, he sought to prolong the crisis as long as possible so as to keep the extra income fl owing to the Russian economy. This, in turn, would keep Russian growth rates high, would enable Moscow to pay off some of its international debts (thus enhancing its international investment climate), and would provide enough extra spending power to get Putin not only through the Duma elections in December 2003 but also through the presidential election in the Spring of 2004.

At the same time Moscow sought to maintain contact with the United States, as well as with both the Saddam Hussein regime (his advisor Yevgeny Primakov was sent to Baghdad) and, discretely, with the Iraqi opposition so that no matter who emerged on top in Iraq, Russia would continue to have access to Iraqi oil. Saddam Hussein, however, was less than happy with Moscow’s policy and, in December 2002, canceled the lucrative contract Lukoil had received to develop the West Qurna oil fi eld, although he left the contracts with Machinoimport and Zarubezhneft in place. Nonetheless, by also fl oating the possibility of up to $40 billion in new trade deals, he sought to entice Putin to give him greater support.32

Interestingly enough, as the war approached, US–Russian relations did not immediately suffer. In part this was due to the fact that the leading forces opposing a US–British attack on Iraq were the French and Germans, and this provided diplomatic cover for Moscow, and in part it was due to the fact that the US kept hoping for Russian support, or at least neutrality, during the war, hinting that it would in return respect Russia’s economic interests in Iraq. Nonetheless, once Putin publicly sided with French leader Jacques Chirac, US–Russian ties began to deteriorate.33 The situation was to worsen once the war broke out in late March. Putin, while not being forced to veto a resolution calling for UN Security Council support of the war, because the US decided not to seek such a UN resolution, nonetheless spoke out sharply against the British–US attack, calling it the most serious crisis since the end of the cold war, and asserting that it was “a direct violation of international law, and a major political mistake that could cause the International Security system to collapse.”34 Russian–American relations were further hurt by credible reports that Russia had secretly sold military equipment to Iraq, including night-vision goggles, anti-tank missiles, and devices to interfere with US GPS positioning systems.35 In addition, the Russian ambassador to Iraq accused US forces of shooting at a Russian convoy exiting Baghdad; the Kremlin protested a US military spy plane fl ying over Georgia; and the Duma postponed action on an arms control treaty.36 Putin also, perhaps hoping to further prolong the crisis, demanded a cease-fi re during the fi rst week of the war, as US forces encountered unexpected resistance.37

In seeking to explain Putin’s apparent hardening of policy during the war, there


are several possible explanations. First, with the Duma elections drawing closer, and the Russian public strongly against the war,38 Putin did not wish to leave the issue solely in the hands of the opposition communist party, especially since his own party, United Russia, was at the time running into problems.39 Second, with most of the Muslim world opposing the war, Putin may have felt that a strong anti-war position could both win Moscow friends in the Muslim world which, as noted above, Putin was cultivating and also assuage Russia’s 20 million Muslims, many of whom are unhappy with his policy in Chechnya. Indeed, Putin asserted, “Russia has a community of 20 million Muslims and we cannot but take their opinion into account, I fully share their concerns.”40 Finally, with Germany and France also strongly opposing the war, Putin may have felt that the newly created Franco-German-Russian bloc of states could serve as a check on US unilater-alism, and Russian opposition to the war would strengthen the prospects of a multi polar world.

In any case, Russian behavior during the war was clearly not that of a partner, at least for the United States. This was to change in the post-war period, albeit only at the margins, and primarily for Russian, not NATO reasons. Thus immediately after the war Moscow supported the US-sponsored Security Council Resolution 1483, which, while leaving the US fully in control of Iraq, did provide a role, albeit an unclear one, for the United Nations in the form of special representative, and both lifted sanctions on Iraq (except for arms) and noted the goal of the resolution was for the Iraqis to manage their own national resources41 – thus holding out the hope for Moscow that its oil companies and business interests could obtain lucrative contracts.

In the aftermath of the fall of Saddam Hussein’s regime in Baghdad in April 2003, Putin set two goals for Russia in Iraq. The fi rst goal was to maximize the number of trade deals with the post-Saddam Iraqi government to bolster the Russian economy, a primary goal of Putin. Second, Moscow sought to internationalize the situation in Iraq so that the US would not continue to dominate the one-time ally of Russia.

As 2004 dawned, Iraq was beset by increasing instability, a development which posed both opportunities and problems for Moscow. The instability weakened the US position and offered opportunities for Moscow to project its infl uence. On the other hand the growing insurgency also threatened Russian business prospects in Iraq as well as Russian personnel.

By the end of 2003, despite US efforts to prevent countries, like Russia, who had not supported the war, from getting reconstruction contracts, Moscow seemed to be rebuilding its economic position in Iraq. This was, in part, due to the growing insurgency which led the US to call for all countries holding Iraqi debt to waive all or part of it so the country could get back on its feet. A now petro-rich Moscow responded by offering to waive part of the debt, but on the understanding that Russian companies would have access to the Iraqi market, despite Moscow’s previous strong support for Saddam Hussein. This goal appeared to be achieved during a late December 2003 visit to Moscow by Abdul Aziz al-Hakim, head of Iraq’s governing council, who noted after discussions with Putin, “We received a

132 R.O. Freedman

generous promise to write off the debt, or at least part of it.” In return, he noted, “We will be open to all Russian companies.”42 Immediately thereafter, the Iraqis began negotiations with the Russian oil company Lukoil on the West Qurna oil fi eld concession initially promised to Lukoil in 1997, but taken away by Saddam Hussein on the eve of the 2003 war with the US.43 In observing Russian behavior in Iraq, a senior US State Department offi cials commented, “At least so far they’re taking a positive approach in the Iraqi debt, although they obviously have broader commercial interests – which they are articulating openly – that they hope will be satisfi ed at the same time.”44

Meanwhile Russia was already selling to Iraq locomotives, taxis and motorcycles, and in February 2004 signed a $10 million deal to send Iraq air-conditioned buses.45

Thus, from Moscow’s perspective, one of its goals – increased business dealings with Iraq – was being achieved, with the promise of more contracts to come – and all this was being done despite Moscow’s being banned by the US from the fi rst round of Iraqi reconstruction contracts.

Unfortunately for Moscow, however, the growing insurgency in Iraq, which while undermining the US position in the country, was to hurt Russia’s own workers and contracts as well. Thus in April 2004, fi ve Russian workers were kidnapped. Although they were subsequently released, the hostage-taking incident was enough to prompt Moscow to begin to evacuate the 553 Russian citizens working in Iraq, most but not all of whom had left for Russia by 17 April.46

However, possibly seeking to politically exploit the deteriorating situation in Iraq, newly appointed Russian foreign minister, Sergei Lavrov, called for a much larger role for the United Nations in the rebuilding of that country. Speaking in Dublin, Lavrov contended that only “with the assistance of the UN will it be possible to unite all of the opposing forces in Iraq … this is the only way to get the Iraqis to agree among themselves, with the participation of their neighbors, on how they want to rebuild their country.” Lavrov then added, seeking to forge a greater role for the UN (and, by implication, a lesser role for the US) “If the idea is to use the UN in this way, then we will support any proposals.”47

Meanwhile, however, the situation in Iraq worsened for Russians as well as other foreigners. On 10 May 2004, one Russian was killed, and two more died on 26 May, leading to a further evacuation of Russian citizens48 and striking a further blow at Russian business interests in Iraq. The deteriorating security situation, along with a reported willingness on the part of the US and Britain to compromise further on Iraq, may have prompted Moscow to go along with an amended UN Security Council draft resolution (No. 1546) which was unanimously approved on 8 June 2004. The resolution formally ended the period of military occupation on 30 June and transferred power to an interim government that would rule until elections were held for a national assembly in January 2005. Resolution 1546 incorporated a number of Russian ideas including the holding of an international conference on Iraq to assist the political process. Perhaps most important for Moscow, the resolution stated that after 30 June 2004 the Iraqis would exercise full sovereignty and would have control over their natural resources – a potential boon for Russian companies – and that the Iraqis would control security issues,


with the US-dominated multinational force remaining in Iraq at the request of Iraq’s interim government and also being accountable to the UN Security Council.49

In theory at least, these were major achievements for Moscow. Iraq had been “internationalized” thus weakening US control, and the US would no longer dominate the reconstruction and development of Iraq, thus offering increased opportunities for Russian companies. There would also be limits – at least in theory – on the activities of US forces in Iraq. Perhaps for this reason Putin hailed the resolution as a “big step forward,” while a “high-ranking Kremlin source” asserted “all our wishes were taken into account, up to and including a point on holding an international conference.”50 To be sure the interim government, faced by a rising insurgency, would depend on US troops to stay in power (as the attack on Fallujah demonstrated), and the subsequent, post-election Iraqi government would most probably need US aid as well. Still, in principle, it was clear that the US position in Iraq was weakening, and this was seen as a positive development for Moscow.

Perhaps as a result of Moscow’s improved position in Iraq – or because fol low-ing the assassination of Ahmed Kadyrov in Chechnya, he felt he needed more US support – several weeks after the passing of UN Security Council Resolution1546 Putin came out with his surprising statement that Russia had evidence that Iraqi intelligence agencies during the Saddam period, had been preparing terrorist attacks against US interests.51 Given the lack of evidence on that point by the US 9/11 Commission and other investigatory bodies, Putin’s statement seemed aimed at enhancing Bush’s credibility at a time when the US presidential campaign had heated up and Bush’s Democratic party opponent, John Kerry, was neck and neck with Bush in the polls.

In addition to helping Bush, Putin also moved to enhance Russian infl uence in the new Iraqi interim government. While unwilling to provide the peacekeeping forces which the Iraqis had reportedly requested,52 Foreign Minister Lavrov, during a Moscow visit in late July 2004 by Iraqi foreign minister, Hoshyar Zebari, stated “we are supporting the rebuilding of Iraq by other methods … We take a positive view of Iraq’s proposal to send Iraqi citizens to study in Russia.”53 Iraq also expressed its willingness to renegotiate contracts which Russian companies had signed with the Saddam Hussein regime, with Zebari stating, “An agreement was reached during the visit to appoint representatives from the Iraqi and Russian governments to carefully review all Russian contracts concluded under the former Iraqi regime, including the oil for food program.54 This agreement appeared to be a signifi cant concession by the Iraqi interim government, given the erupting scandal over the pay-offs to and by Saddam Hussein in the oil-for-food program, with Russian companies and individuals leading the list of those involved.55 Perhaps for this reason, Zebari added “the Iraqi government will honor and carry out all contracts that this review deems to be legal.”56 The Iraqi foreign minister, however, did not go along with another of Moscow’s goals – the rapid convening of a major international conference on Iraq.

As the Iraqi election of January 2005 drew near, Moscow took a contradictory

134 R.O. Freedman

position. On the one hand it promised to reduce the Iraqi debt by 90 percent, which led interim government President Ayad Allawi, who was visiting Moscow in early December 2004, to state, “Russia’s writing off of Iraqi debts will contribute to Russia’s playing a leading role in the regeneration of Iraqi industry and the Iraqi economy.57 While Moscow may have made this move not only to curry favor in Iraq, but also with the hope of possibly getting Russia’s own foreign debt reduced by European creditors, the primary motivation seems to have been to induce Iraq to honor Russian contracts with the former regime, above all the Lukoil contract for the West Qurna oil fi eld. Indeed, Lukoil President Vagit Alekperov stated that he felt the prospect for his oil company’s operations in Iraq had improved following the Allawi visit to Moscow.58 Still, the most Allawi could do – at least before the Iraqi election – was to agree to hold a Russian–Iraqi intergovernmental commission in February 2005 to “verify the Russian contracts concluded with the former Iraqi leadership,” with all “fair” contracts remaining in force and “unfair” ones being cancelled.59

On the other hand, the Russian leadership continued to raise questions about the elections, saying they could not be held fairly given the rising insurgency and the continuing occupation by the multilateral force.60 Consequently, unlike the situation in Gaza and the West Bank, Moscow did not appear willing to send observers to monitor the Iraqi election. Putin also stated that due to the lack of security, it was not yet safe enough for Russian companies to return to Iraq.61

Following the January 2005 elections, where the large turnout surprised much of the world, Russia warmed its ties with the new government. Offers of Russian military assistance to Iraq were fl oated,62 and Russian Foreign Ministry spokesman Alexander Yakovenko stated that Russia “positively trusts the formation of the transitional government of Iraq and is ready to develop all-round cooperation” with it “in the interests of that country’s post-war development, its economy, [and] restoration and strengthening of its national sovereignty.”63

For his part Putin also praised the elections, stating, “this will be a good platform for [an] Iraq settlement” and said Russian specialists will soon be returning to Iraq. He also repeated his call for the pull out of foreign troops from Iraq.64 Nonetheless Russian citizens continued to be in danger in Iraq – two embassy vehicles were fi red on on 3 July65 – and reluctantly Putin appeared to come around to the idea that the foreign troops, while hopefully leaving within one or two years would have to stay until security was assured, “We agree with our partners that this (the foreign troop withdrawal) should not happen before Iraq’s army and policy have become capable of ensuring security.”66

Thus by the Fall of 2005 Putin seems to have become resigned to the fact that US and British troops would have to stay in the country to provide security, if Russian businessmen were to have the opportunity to develop their ties with Iraq and thereby both help the Russian economy and position Russia for a return to a position of infl uence in Iraq. Thus in the period from 2003 to 2005 Russian policy changed from trying to exploit differences within NATO to prevent the US invasion of Iraq to becoming a de facto partner of NATO in Iraq in an effort


to prevent the country from sliding further into chaos, an eventuality that would not only weaken the US position in Iraq, but also make impossible any recovery of Russian business interests in Iraq. Thus Russia has become a de facto NATO partner in Iraq, more for its own parochial interests than out of a desire to be a responsible member of the international community.

Russia’s relations with Iran

As far as NATO is concerned, the central problem in the Russian–Iranian rela-tion ship has been Iran’s purported efforts to develop nuclear weapons, and the questionable Russian response to it both in terms of its construction of a nuclear reactor at Bushehr and its efforts to protect Iran from UN Security Council sanctions because of its nuclear activities.

To be sure, Iran is a very important country as far as Moscow is concerned, the most important in the Middle East. The two countries cooperate in Central Asia and the Caucasus, and to a lesser degree in the Caspian. Russia also sells sophisticated arms to Iran including fi ghter jets and submarines, and as mentioned above, is building a nuclear reactor for Iran at Bushehr, now scheduled for operation in 2008.67 While Russia increasingly grew close to Iran, divisions over Iran have long plagued NATO, with the US imposing economic sanctions on Iran (the US also berated Iran for supporting Hezbollah and Islamic Jihad), France opposing them and other NATO states leaning to the French position. Nonetheless after revelations in late 2002 that Tehran had been concealing large parts of its purportedly peaceful nuclear program, NATO differences began to narrow and Moscow, which had been able to exploit the NATO fi ssures, came under increasing pressure to curb its nuclear assistance to Iran.

The problem became especially serious for Russia in December 2002 when it was revealed in a series of satellite photographs that, in addition to Bushehr, Iran was building two new nuclear facilities, one a centrifuge plant near the city of Natanz and the other a heavy water plant near the city of Arak.68 Initially Russia downplayed the development, with the then Director of Minatom, Alexander Rumyantsev, stating that the photos taken of the plants were not suffi cient to determine their nature, and, in any case, the Russians had nothing to do with the two plants. Other representatives of Minatom said Russia was ready to supply the long-awaited nuclear fuel to Tehran – but only if the Iranians guaranteed the return of the spent fuel to Moscow. Rumyantsev, however, said Russia was ready without conditions to supply nuclear fuel to Iran.69

By February 2003, however, Rumyantsev was hedging his position, noting, “at this moment in time Iran did not have the capability to build nuclear weapons.”70 By March 2003 with an International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) team visiting the two plants, Rumyantsev had further changed his position and asserted that Russia could not tell whether Iran was secretly developing nuclear weapons, “While Russia is helping Iran build its nuclear plant (at Bushehr) it is not being informed by Iran on all the other projects currently underway.”71

Following its initial successes in the Iraq war, the US stepped up its pressure

136 R.O. Freedman

on Russia to halt the Iranian nuclear weapons program. In response, Igor Ivanov noted in an Interfax interview at the end of May 2003 that Russia wanted all Iranian nuclear programs to be under the supervision of the IAEA.72

Then, following the Bush–Putin talks in Saint Petersburg in early June 2003, when Bush was at the height of his international infl uence following the fall of Baghdad, Putin asserted that the positions of Russia and the US on Iran were closer than people thought. However, he added that “the pretext of an Iranian nuclear weapons program [could be used] as an instrument of unfair competition against Russian companies.”73

By early June 2003 it appeared that the US was making two demands on Russia, vis-à-vis the Bushehr reactor. First, while the US wanted Russia to end all support for Bushehr, at the minimum, the US argued that Moscow should not supply any nuclear fuel to the Bushehr reactor unless Iran agreed to send all used fuel back to Moscow. Second, Moscow should also withhold the nuclear fuel until Iran signed an additional protocol with the IAEA permitting the agency unannounced visits to all Iranian nuclear facilities. On the latter issue, both the G8 (of which Russia is a member) and the EU also pressured Iran. Indeed, the G8 statement issued in early June noted, “We urge Iran to sign and implement the IAEA Additional Protocol without delay or conditions. We offer our strongest support to comprehensive IAEA examination of this country’s nuclear program.”74

The question, of course, was not only how far Iran would go to comply, but how far Russia would go to pressure Iran. In this there appeared to be some initial confusion in Moscow. While Tony Blair asserted that Moscow had agreed not to deliver nuclear fuel until Iran signed the IAEA protocol, Russian Foreign Ministry spokesman, Alexander Yakovenko, stated that Moscow would only freeze construction on the Bushehr plant if Iran refused to agree to return all spent nuclear fuel to Russia, and that Iran was not required to sign the protocol, because “the protocol is an agreement that is signed on a voluntary basis.”75

Meanwhile, perhaps to defl ect some of the US pressure, Minatom Minister Alexander Rumyantsev announced on 3 June 2003 that the Bushehr reactor would be completed in 2005, not 2004 as originally planned. While he blamed the delay on the need to replace the reactor’s original German parts, it could well be that this was an important gesture to the US.76

Then, on 12 September 2003, the IAEA, of which Russia is a member, gave Tehran a deadline of 31 October to provide full information about its nuclear program to show that it was not secretly building nuclear weapons, and furthermore urged Iran to freeze its uranium enrichment program. While the tough wording of the message prompted the walkout of the Iranian delegation from the Vienna IAEA meeting, the question now became how Russia would react to the situation. Interestingly enough, at the time, Russia’s Deputy Foreign Minister Sergei Kislyak tried to soft pedal the IAEA report by saying Iran should not see the 31 October deadline as “an ultimatum.”77 However, in September a dispute between Russia and Iran had broken out over who would pay for the return of the spent fuel from the reactor, with Iran demanding that Russia pay for it and Moscow refusing. Complicating matters further for Putin on the eve of his visit to the US in late


September, was the US sanctioning of a Russian arms fi rm (The Tula Instrument Design Bureau) for selling laser-guided artillery shells to Iran.

Fortunately for Putin, Bush’s position at the time of the summit was weaker than it had been when the two leaders last met in June. Guerrilla warfare had erupted in Iraq and the US was beginning to have trouble dealing with it. Indeed, Washington had turned to the UN in an effort to get additional troops, along with monetary aid to rebuild Iraq. Along with a sputtering American economy, Iraq had become a major issue in US politics, as Bush’s standing in US polls had begun to drop. Consequently, while Bush raised the issue of Iran with Putin, the most he could extract from the Russian leader was the somewhat vague statement that “It is our conviction that we shall give a clear but respectful signal to Iran about the necessity to continue and expand its cooperation with the IAEA.”78 In addition, Bush proved unable to get Putin to agree to cease construction on the Bushehr reactor.

The ball, however, was taken out of Moscow’s hands by the EU, which sent a delegation to Tehran in late October 2003. The delegation succeeded in extracting from Iran (which at the time may have still feared a US attack), in return for a promise of high-tech cooperation, an agreement to temporarily stop enriching uranium and to sign the additional protocol as well as to inform the IAEA of its past nuclear activities. Moscow hailed the Iranian action, and the head of the Iranian Security Council, Hassan Rowhani, came to Moscow on 11 November to formally announce that Tehran was temporarily suspending the enrichment of uranium and was sending that day a letter to the IAEA agreeing to the additional protocol.79

Moscow exploited the visit saying that Iran was now in full compliance with the IAEA, and Putin said that now Russia and Iran would continue their nuclear cooperation.80 Indeed, Foreign Ministry spokesman Alexander Yakovenko, eyeing the possibility of the sale of additional reactors to Tehran, something discussed during the Iranian delegation’s visit, said Russia would now “do its utmost to expedite the completion of Bushehr.”81

In part because of Russian (and EU) pressure, the Board of Governors of the IAEA in November 2003 decided not to refer Iran’s nuclear program to the UN Security Council. Nonetheless it did warn Iran against developing nuclear weapons and threatened to consider “all options available” if Iran continued to conceal information about its nuclear facilities.82 The US took a tougher stance, with John Bolton, then Undersecretary of State for Arms Control and International Security, warning that the US was ready to use all options against rogue states believed to be developing WMD. Bolton also voiced skepticism that Iran would abide by its commitments to the IAEA.83

Bolton’s skepticism soon proved to be well taken because less than two months later revelations about Pakistan’s nuclear proliferation policies, including to Iran, led IAEA Chief Mohammed ElBaradei to warn about the collapse of the non-proliferation system. The US then called for closing a loophole in the nuclear non-proliferation treaty to prevent countries, such as Iran, from acquiring materials for their national atomic energy programs that could be used to build nuclear weapons.84 In addition, IAEA inspectors found that Iran had hidden (and not told the IAEA about), among other things, an advanced P-2 centrifuge system that could

138 R.O. Freedman

be used for enriching uranium, along with a program for producing polonium-210 which could be use as a neutron initiator for nuclear weapons.85

Meanwhile, as these revelations emerged, Moscow seemed confused about how to react. Minatom’s Deputy Minister Valery Govorukhin played down ElBaradei’s warning of the possible collapse of the international nuclear non-proliferation system and hailed Iran’s cooperation with the IAEA.86 By contrast, however, his superior Alexander Rumyantsev supported ElBaradei, calling the situation “extremely unpleasant,” and went so far as to say that Russia, along with other countries, was going to give “active consideration as to whether work on the establishment of national fuel cycles should be terminated in non-nuclear countries”87 – something that would strike a serious blow against Iran’s nuclear aspirations.

Consequently the central factor in Russian–Iranian relations in 2004 was the question as to when Russia would complete the Bushehr nuclear reactor. While there was progress on coordinating electricity grids via Azerbaijan, trade increased to the level of $2 billion per year, and Tehran and Moscow negotiated on further arms and civilian plane sales as well as on the Russian launch of an Iranian satellite,88 Bushehr dominated the discourse as Iran increasingly clashed with the IAEA. Even the division of the Caspian Sea, the other “hot button” issue in the Russian–Iranian relationship seemed to be put on hold during this period with Foreign Minister Sergei Lavrov noting in October 2004 that the Caspian Sea littoral states had only agreed on parts of 8 of the 33 articles of the proposed Caspian Sea Legal Regime.89

Moscow’s dilemma was basically two-fold. Throughout 2004 either the IAEA continued to fi nd that Iran was hiding information about its nuclear activities, or Iran was reneging on agreements it had already made with the IAEA and/or the EU3 (Germany, France and England). This, in turn, brought heavy US pressure on Russia to hold off supplying nuclear fuel to the Bushehr reactor project it was constructing in Iran, lest Iranian efforts to develop a nuclear bomb be enhanced. Increasingly, as 2004 wore on, the Russian leaders appeared to be at least somewhat persuaded by the US argument and their criticism of Tehran mounted.

In April Iran informed the IAEA that it intended to begin testing at its uranium conversion facility at Isfahan, after which it began to convert small amounts of natural uranium into uranium hexafl uoride, the feed material used in centrifuges – an action that was a clear violation of the agreement signed with the EU3 in October 2003.90 Despite being criticized for this at the IAEA June 2004 Board of Governors meeting, Iran then notifi ed the IAEA that it intended to resume manufacture of centrifuge components as well as to test and assemble centrifuges. This led the IAEA in September to threaten to refer Iran to the UN Security Council if Tehran did not restore full suspension of its enrichment programs, as well as grant IAEA inspectors access to Iranian nuclear facilities, and explain to the IAEA the extent and nature of Iran’s uranium enrichment processing, specifi cally the role of P-2 centrifuges. What happened next was almost a repeat of the events in the Fall of 2003 when the IAEA urged Iran to freeze its enrichment program and allow IAEA inspections, and the EU3 followed up with negotiations that led


to an apparent agreement with Tehran to promise to temporarily stop enriching uranium in return for a promise of trade cooperation. Thus on 15 November 2004 a preliminary agreement was reached to this effect, only to have Iran attempt to back off from it by asserting its right to keep 20 centrifuges for research. At the end of November, however, Iran dropped this demand and signed an agreement with the EU3 to suspend all enrichment related and reprocessing activities “on a voluntary basis,” which included: the manufacture and import of gas centrifuges and their components; the assembly, installation, testing or operation of gas centrifuges; and undertaking any plutonium separation, or the construction or operation of any plutonium separation installation as well as all tests or production at any conversion installation. According to the agreement, Iran’s suspension “will be sustained while negotiations (with the EU3) proceed on a mutually acceptable agreement on long-term arrangements.” In return the EU set up working groups with Iran on political and security issues; technology and cooperation; and nuclear issues, with all working groups to report by 15 March 2005. The goal of the EU3 was to have Iran permanently suspend its enrichment activities and end its nuclear fuel cycle program, and the EU was prepared to offer Iran guarantees of fuel supply and management for Iran’s nuclear power program and also to help Iran acquire a light water research reactor if Iran cancelled its plans to build a heavy water research reactor.91 Almost immediately, however, Iran seemed to back off from the agreement with Hassan Rowhani, Iran’s chief negotiator, saying at a news conference that “The length of the suspension will only be for the length of the negotiations with the Europeans and … must be rational and not too long. We’re talking about months, not years.”92

As these events unfolded, Russia was presented with a dilemma. On the one hand, as in 2003, the EU3 defl ected pressure from Russia and helped prevent not only a referral of Iran’s nuclear program to the UN Security Council, but also possible US and/or Israeli military action against Iran’s nuclear installations. Indeed Moscow could only welcome UK Foreign Minister Jack Straw’s comments that force should not be used against Iran under any circumstances.93 On the other hand Moscow faced the possibility that, despite Iran’s constant backsliding, the EU3 – Iran agreement of 30 November 2004 might actually take hold and, if so, the EU states could become competitors in Iran’s nuclear market.94

In any case, what was clear was that as Iran throughout 2004 was seeking to wriggle out from its commitments to the IAEA and EU3, Moscow appeared to take an increasingly tough tone with Tehran on nuclear issues. Thus Putin, in June 2004 threatened that “Russia will halt its work at Bushehr if Iran refuses to behave in an open manner and fails to comply with the IAEA’s demands.”95 Similarly, when meeting with French leader Jacques Chirac and German leader Gerhard Schroeder in September, Putin stated Russia’s opposition to an “expansion of the club of nuclear powers, notably through the addition of Iran.”96 Then in commenting on the tough September IAEA resolution, Rumyantsev stated, “It is balanced and serves the interests of all parties.”97

While Russia proved supportive of the EU3 negotiations with Iran, it reportedly opposed Iranian efforts to get the 20 centrifuges excluded from the agreement,

140 R.O. Freedman

something that was negatively commented on by the Iranian news agency Mehr.98

Putin himself, as the fi nal negotiations with the EU3 wound down, made a not-so-veiled warning to Iran, stating, “We are engaged in bilateral negotiations with Iran. We are helping it use nuclear power for peaceful purposes. If fi nal agreements are achieved, we will continue this cooperation.”99 Then, when the agreement was reached at the end of November, and the subsequent IAEA report took a relatively tough stand against Iran, Deputy Foreign Minister Sergei Kislyak told Interfax that not only did Russia praise the IAEA resolution as “well balanced,” but “we also welcome Iran’s decision to freeze all uranium enrichment programs. This is a voluntary, trust building measure. We hope this decision will be reliably fulfi lled.”100 The Russian Foreign Ministry, in a statement issued after the IAEA resolution, reinforced Kislyak’s words, noting “a full and sustained fulfi llment of this voluntary undertaking, with due monitoring on the part of the IAEA is essential for the settlement of remaining issues regarding Iran’s nuclear program.”101

Moscow’s sharp rhetoric vis-à-vis Tehran began to fade in 2005. As mentioned above, in the latter part of 2004 Putin had suffered a number of embarrassing failures both internally and externally with the debacle in Beslan demonstrating just how far Putin was from “normalizing” the situation in Chechnya, and the pro-Western Orange Revolution in the Ukraine apparently indicating the defection of Russia’s most important CIS neighbor. Consequently, Putin seems to have decided that he had to demonstrate both his own, and Russia’s, continuing importance in world affairs, and reinforcing his alliance with Iran was one way to do this.102

The process included inviting Iran to join the Shanghai Cooperation Organization as an observer, and also inviting Iran to join the planned Caspian Sea security organization. (Iran, under heavy pressure both from the United States and the European Union, eagerly accepted both invitations.) The two countries also stepped up their planning for a north–south transportation corridor through Azerbaijan. In addition, Moscow launched a satellite for Iran and discussed the possibility of the sale of submarine-launched missiles with a range of 300 kilometers to be fi tted on the submarines Russia had sold to Iran.103 Should the sale go through, it would greatly complicate the activities of the US fl eet in the Persian Gulf–Indian Ocean region, and be a major blow to US–Russian relations.

While all these developments demonstrated a reinforced tie between Russia and Iran, the nuclear issue continued to occupy fi rst place in the relationship. In early 2005, however, Iran was becoming increasingly critical of the delay in Russia’s fi nalizing completion of the reactor. Indeed, a Kehyan commentary by Mehdi Mohammadi in early January 2005 went so far as to assert that “the breaches of promise, subterfuge and mischief-making of the Russians in the fi eld of peaceful nuclear cooperation with the Islamic Republic of Iran is now a repeated saga.”104

Whether or not the Iranian criticism was an important factor in Putin’s decision making is not yet known. However, Putin did realize that in order to cement the relationship with Iran, which he saw as a foreign policy priority, for reasons mentioned above, he had to fi nalize the nuclear fuel agreement. Consequently in late February 2005, Russia signed the fi nal agreement for the supply of nuclear fuel to the Bushehr reactor.105 Under the agreement all spent fuel was to be returned to


Russia, thus, in theory at least, preventing its diversion into atomic weapons. The agreement came after a Bush–Putin summit in which the US and Russia pledged to work together against nuclear proliferation,106 and, as might be expected, the US took a dim view of the Russian–Iranian agreement.

Perhaps emboldened by the agreement with Russia, Iran’s then chief nuclear negotiator, Hassan Rowhani warned that Iran would never permanently cease enriching uranium, and if the US sought sanctions at the UN Security Council, “The security and stability of the region would become a problem.” Rowhani also stated that Iran was not happy with the pace of negotiations with the EU3, and threatened to end the negotiations if there were no progress.107

Meanwhile, as the US became increasingly bogged down in Iraq, it appeared to somewhat back off from its confrontation with Iran over the nuclear issue. Thus in mid-March 2005 the US agreed to join the EU in offering economic incentives to Iran if it gave up its nuclear program.108 At the same time, however, an Iranian presidential campaign was now underway. While both the US and the EU3 hoped that the victor would be former Iranian president Hashemi Rafsanjani, whom they felt they could make a deal with, to their surprise an Islamic hardliner, Mahmud Ahmadinezhad, the Mayor of Tehran was elected president. Consequently when the EU3 presented its proposal to Ahmadinezhad’s government on 5 August 2005, it was contemptuously rejected as a “joke.”109 The proposal called for a long-term EU–Iranian relationship which combined security and economic incentives, including giving Iran access to international technologies for light water reactors, in return for Iran agreeing not to withdraw from the nuclear non-proliferation treaty and keeping all Iranian nuclear facilities under IAEA safeguards.110 The Iranian rejection may have been encouraged by a leaked US intelligence report in the Washington Post on 2 August 2005 which asserted the Iran was fi ve to ten years away from acquiring a nuclear weapon.111 The Iranians may well have seen the leak as an effort by the Bush Administration to defl ect public pressure to take action against Iran by demonstrating that Iran would not have the bomb for a decade. In any case an emboldened Iran, led by its hardline president who appeared to have the support of Iran’s supreme religious leader, the Ayatollah Khamenei, not only rejected the EU proposal but also announced it was resuming work at the uranium conversion plant at Isfahan, where it would transform uranium into nuclear fuel.112

An angered EU3 then cancelled further talks with Iran, and the issue was referred to the IAEA.113

As these events were transpiring, Russia sought to defuse the crisis, with the Russian Foreign Ministry issuing a statement of 9 August 2005 which asserted that “it would be a wise decision on the part of Iran to stop enriching uranium and renew cooperation with the IAEA.”114 Iran did not heed the Russian request, however, and international pressure on Iran grew at the end of August with French president Jacques Chirac warning that Iran would face censure by the UN Security Council if it did not reinstate a freeze on sensitive nuclear activities.115 Russia, however, was now in a protective mode vis-à-vis Iran and chose not to go beyond its verbal call for Iran to stop enriching uranium. Thus on 5 September 2005 the Russian Foreign Ministry stated it was opposed to reporting Iran to the UN Security Council.116

142 R.O. Freedman

However, Russia was discomfi ted by the speech Ahmadinezhad gave at the UN in mid-September. Instead of diplomatically trying to assuage the opponents of Iran’s nuclear program, he delivered a fi ery attack on the US and Israel, going so far as to claim that the US was poisoning its own troops in Iraq, while at the same time asserting that Iran would never give up its plans to enrich uranium.117 This speech placed Iran on the defensive as the members of the IAEA met in late September to decide what to do about its nuclear program. At the beginning of the meeting Russia again asserted its opposition to referring Iran’s nuclear program to the UNSC, with the Russian Foreign Ministry issuing a statement that it considered proposals that Iran’s nuclear programs be referred to the UNSC to be “counterproductive and non-conducive to the search for a solution to the problem by political and diplomatic methods.”118 Nonetheless, following a heated debate, Russia (along with 11 other countries) chose to abstain on an IAEA resolution which passed 22 to 1 that found that Iran’s “failures and breaches … constitute non-compliance with Iran’s agreement to let the international body verify that its nuclear program is purely peaceful.” The resolution went on to state that the “absence of confi dence that Iran’s nuclear program is exclusively for peaceful purposes has given rise to questions that are within the competence of the Security Council.” The resolution further called on Iran to re-suspend conversion of uranium at its Isfahan plant and asked Tehran to return to negotiations with the EU3.119

Russian behavior at the IAEA meeting illustrated Moscow’s ongoing dilemma in dealing with Iran. While Moscow did not want Iran to acquire nuclear weapons, it also did not want sanctions brought against one of its closest allies, who was also a very good customer, buying not only the Bushehr nuclear reactor (and possibly more in the future) but military equipment as well. Consequently since the IAEA resolution did not explicitly call for sanctions, Moscow could perhaps claim a victory, while at the same time it did not alienate the EU3, with which it was seeking increased economic and political cooperation, or the United States. Nonetheless, by this time the US was again seeking action against Iran and US Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice traveled to Russia in mid-October 2005 to try to gain Russian support for sanctions. However, Foreign Minister Sergei Lavrov stated that Russia wanted to pursue negotiations in the IAEA rather than go to the UN Security Council, noting, “We think that the current situation permits us to develop this issue and do everything possible within the means of this organization [the IAEA] without referring this issue to other organizations, so far.”120 Putin echoed Lavrov’s position in a telephone call to Ahmadinezhad in which he reportedly stated, “The need was stressed for decision on all relevant issues to be made using political methods within the legal framework of the IAEA. In connection to this, the Russian president advocated the further development of Iran’s cooperation with the IAEA, including with the aim of renewing the negotiations process.”121

With these statements Russia had come down strongly on the side of Iran in its confl ict with the EU3 and the US; because without the threat of sanctions, there would be little incentive for Iran to change its policy. Nonetheless, Iran was to prove a diffi cult ally for Russia. With Foreign Minister Lavrov on a visit


to Israel as part of his post-Israeli Gaza disengagement trip to the Middle East, Ahmadinezhad, in a speech to Iranian students, on 26 October at a program called “A World Without Zionism,” stated not only that Israel “must be wiped off the map” but also that any country which recognizes Israel (presumably including Russia) “will burn in the fi re of the Islamic nation’s fury.”122 A discomfi ted Lavrov stated, “What I saw on CNN is unacceptable. We will convey our standpoint to the Iranian side. We’re inviting the Iranian ambassador to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and will ask him to explain the motives behind this kind of statement.” He also noted that these kinds of statements “do not facilitate the efforts of those who want to normalize the situation surrounding Iran.”123

Two days later, however, while in Jordan, Lavrov changed his tone, stating, “our position on Iran remains unchanged. We favor cooperation through the IAEA in dealing with problems related to the Iranian nuclear program.”124

In the period between the two IAEA conferences, the Iranian record of com-pli ance with IAEA directives was mixed. On the one hand Iran, in addition to offering to resume negotiations with the EU3, made a gesture to the IAEA by giving it access to a building at Parchin that the IAEA inspectors had wanted to enter. In addition the IAEA was allowed to interview Iranian specialists, and Iran also handed over additional documents to the IAEA.125 However, in one of the documents it was revealed that rogue Pakistani nuclear scientist, Abdul Khan, had provided Iran technical data to enable it to cast “enriched, natural and depleted uranium metal into hemispheric forms” that would help Iran fi t a nuclear warhead onto its missiles. In commenting on this development former nuclear inspector David Albright said the design is “part of what you need … to build a nuclear weapon. Although it’s not a ‘smoking gun’ proving Iran was developing nuclear weapons, the fi nd cast doubts on previous Iranian assertions that it had no documents on making such arms.”126

Further complicating Iran’s position as the IAEA meeting neared was Tehran’s decision to reprocess another batch of uranium at its Isfahan nuclear facility. This brought a negative reaction from the French Foreign Ministry whose spokesman stated, “We consider that this is a decision which does not go in the right direction. It does not contribute to creating a climate of confi dence between Iran and the international community.”127 The Iranian Parliament then escalated the tension by voting 183 to 14 to stop IAEA inspection of its nuclear facilities if Iran were referred to the UN Security Council by the IAEA.128

As this situation developed Moscow continued to oppose referring Iran to the UN Security Council, although holding out the possibility it could happen. Three days before the start of the IAEA meeting, Foreign Minister Sergei Lavrov stated, “I do not rule out the possibility that the Iranian question might be sent to the Security Council if a real threat of the proliferation of weapons of mass destruction above all nuclear weapons arises. At the moment we do not see such a threat.129

Moscow also sought to defuse the crisis by working out a proposal with the EU3 that would enable Iran to domestically convert uranium into uranium hexafl uoride gas that is the precursor to making enriched uranium. The enrichment itself, however, would be done in Russia.130 While the compromise defused the situation

144 R.O. Freedman

so that 24 November IAEA meeting did not refer Iran to the UN Security Council, how long Iran would enjoy its respite was an open question. First, at the time of the IAEA meeting Iran not only did not accept the EU3–Russia compromise agreement, but many Iranian offi cials continued to demand the right to develop a full fuel cycle.131 Second, members of the EU warned Iran that its time was not unlimited to accept the compromise as Peter Jenkins, Britain’s IAEA delegate stated, “Iran should not conclude that this window of opportunity will remain open in all circumstances. It won’t be open for a great deal longer.”132 Finally, in his report to the IAEA, Director General Mohamed ElBaradei, who had just been awarded a Nobel prize, urged Iran to:

… respond positively and without delay to the Agency’s remaining questions related to uranium enrichment, and to the additional transparency measures we have requested. As I have stated before, these transparency measures are indispensable for the Agency to be able to clarify remaining outstanding is-sues – in particular, the scope and chronology of Iran’s centrifuge enrichment programs. Clarifi cation of these issues is overdue after three years of intensive verifi cation efforts.133

Following the IAEA meeting Russian moved much closer to Iran by signing a one billion dollar arms deal with it, which included $700 million for surface-to-air missiles that could be deployed to protect Iran’s nuclear installations.134 Such an air defense system, once installed, could seriously inhibit a possible US or Israeli attack. By moving to help Iran to protect its nuclear installations, Moscow sent a clear signal that it would stand by Iran, whatever its nuclear policies.

In the aftermath of the Russian arms deal, which clearly strengthened Iran’s position, and, as noted above, appeared to reinforce the Russian commitment to Iran, Iran prepared for renewed talks with the EU3. Prior to the meeting, however, Ahmadinezhad once again made a highly provocative statement, especially for the Europeans, by asserting that the Holocaust was a “myth.” Not only the Europeans but also Moscow repudiated the Ahmadinezhad statement.135 To what degree the Iranian president’s comments on the Holocaust negatively infl uenced Iran’s negotiations with the EU3 is an open question. However, it is clear that Iran’s announcement that it would enrich additional uranium in mid-January 2006 effectively ended the talks, and the EU3, drawing increasingly close to the United States, called on the Security Council to take action against Iran.136

As tensions between Iran and NATO rose, the IAEA met in early February 2006, and, noting Iran’s unwillingness to provide inspectors with the necessary information about its nuclear program, voted 27 to 3 (with 5 abstentions) to refer Iran to the UN Security Council in March if Tehran failed to “restore the international community’s confi dence in its nuclear program.”137 While Russia voted for the resolution, the additional month before referral to the Security Council was aimed at giving Moscow time to win Iran over to its plan to enrich Iranian uranium in Russia. Meanwhile, Putin, seeking to build up Russia’s technological base, and perhaps also to persuade Iran that it was not being singled out for special


treatment by the Russian proposal, announced a program to make Russia a world center for uranium enrichment.138

While Russia was seeking to entice Iran to agree to its nuclear enrichment plan, Iran was taking a hard line. In response to the IAEA decision to refer Tehran to the UN Security Council, Ahmadinezhad ordered industrial level nuclear enrichment, halted surprise visits by the IAEA to its nuclear installations and ordered the IAEA to remove seals and surveillance equipment on some of the Iranian nuclear facilities.139

In this chilly atmosphere, Russian–Iranian talks began in mid-February. Putin himself noted on 22 February that “the talks are not going easily”,140 but expressed optimism that they would be successful. Unfortunately, Putin’s optimism proved unfounded as the talks collapsed in early March, primarily because Iran continued to demand the right to enrich uranium domestically.141 The failure of the talks placed Iran in further diplomatic isolation, and perhaps for this reason Iran tried once again to negotiate with the EU3. These negotiations, however, like the previous ones, failed again because Iran refused to stop enriching uranium.142

Under these circumstances, it appeared that following the March meeting the UN Security Council would take up Iran’s nuclear program. While ElBaradei’s report to the IAEA did not state conclusively that Iran was pursuing a nuclear weapons program, he did state, “Regrettably, however, after three years of intensive verifi cation, there remain uncertainties with regard to both the scope and the nature of Iran’s nuclear program … For confi dence to be built in the peaceful nature of Iran’s program, Iran should do its utmost to provide maximum transparency and build confi dence.”143

As the time for UN Security Council deliberations on Iran neared, Foreign Minister Lavrov fl oated the idea of letting Iran do a limited amount of nuclear enrichment domestically while the bulk of the enrichment would be done in Russia. While this idea appeared to have the endorsement of IAEA Chief ElBaradei, US opposition killed it.144

As the issue began to be discussed in the UN Security Council, Iran, seeing itself in deepening international isolation, tried yet another ploy. This was to offer to engage the United States in talks on the rapidly deteriorating security situation in Iraq.145 It is possible that, by demonstrating fl exibility in this area, Iran hoped it could delay action against it in the Security Council, and give Russia diplomatic ammunition to use to postpone any sanctions.

Meanwhile, Russia reverted to its traditional policy of being willing to publicly criticize Iran for its actions, but also being unwilling to support serious action against Tehran. Thus on the eve of the UN Security Council debate, Lavrov was sharply critical of Iranian behavior during its talks with Russia: “We are extremely disappointed with Tehran’s conduct during these talks. Iran is absolutely failing to help those [parties] who are seeking peaceful ways to resolve this problem. Contradictory signals are coming from Tehran. One day they reject it, the next day they don’t.”146

Despite the criticism, Russia took a strong stand against the possible imposition of sanctions against Iran during the Security Council talks. The end result was

146 R.O. Freedman

a non-binding resolution which, while frequently expressing “serious concern” about Iran’s actions, such as its resumption of nuclear enrichment activities, did not contain any threats of sanctions and only asked for ElBaradei to report back on Iranian compliance in thirty days.147 Indeed, in a follow-up meeting in Berlin, Lavrov reiterated the Russian position, stating that sanctions could not be used “to solve” the Iranian nuclear dispute, and asserting that the IAEA had yet to provide “decisive evidence” that Iran was developing nuclear weapons programs.148

So matters stood until the surprise announcement by Ahmadinezhad, on the eve of a visit by ElBaradei to Iran to ascertain Iran’s compliance with the Security Council resolution, that Iran had succeeded in enriching uranium, and “joined the club of nuclear countries,” by putting into successful operation a cascade of 164 centrifuges.149 While this number was insuffi cient to provide enough enriched uranium for a nuclear weapon, Iran’s Atomic Energy Organization’s Deputy Director, Mohamed Saeedi said that within a year the number of centrifuges in operation would be 3000 – in the opinion of most observers, enough for a nuclear weapon, if the centrifuges were competently managed – and in the future Iran would bring 54,000 centrifuges on line.150 Iran also contemptuously rejected ElBaradei’s call for Iran to stop its enrichment efforts, with Ahmadinezhad asserting that Iran would not retreat “one iota” on nuclear enrichment, and Iran’s chief nuclear negotiator, Ali Larijani, asserting that the UN Security Council proposals were “not very important ones.”151 Then, as if to make the situation even tenser, Iran announced it was testing the sophisticated P-2 centrifuge.152 If successful, the use of P-2 centrifuges would signifi cantly enhance Iran’s enrichment capability.

These developments once again put pressure on Russia to react. While a number of Russian offi cials, such as Russia’s Atomic Energy head Sergei Kiriyenko, downplayed Iran’s ability to create a nuclear bomb,153 and Foreign Minister Lavrov called Iran’s announcement “a step in the wrong direction.”154 Moscow continued to promote a diplomatic solution and oppose sanctions, with Lavrov asserting, “We are convinced that neither sanctions nor the use of force will lead to a solution of this problem.”155

The United States’ patience with Russian policy on Iran, however, now appeared to be running out. On 21 April US Deputy Secretary of State Nicholas Burns called for Russia to stop providing weapons to Iran and to end assistance to the Bushehr nuclear project. These demands were immediately rejected by Russian offi cials who stated the projects would go on unless the UN Security Council imposed sanctions – an unlikely possibility given Russian opposition to sanctions.156

When the IAEA report came out on 28 April 2006, it was highly critical of Iran. The report made fi ve central points:

1 During the 30-day period after the UN Security Council asked Iran to suspend enrichment, Iran built a cascade of 164 centrifuges with an enrichment capability of 3.6 percent.

2 Iran was building two additional cascades of 164 centrifuges each.3 Iran refused to provide documents about the nuclear black market run by


A.Q. Khan as they related to centrifuges and the building of the core of a nuclear weapon.

4 Iran refused to answer questions about the experiments it was doing with small amounts of plutonium.

5 Iran refused to explain the research it was doing on P-2 centrifuges.

The IAEA report concluded that because of these gaps in information “including the role of the military in Iran’s nuclear program, the agency is unable to make progress in its efforts to provide assurance about the absence of undeclared nuclear material and activities in Iran.”157

Following the report, the US, and its European allies, pushed for sanctions against Iran. And, as in the past, while calling for Iran to provide the necessary information to the IAEA, Russia continued to resist sanctions while also opposing any kind of military action against Iran. Russia’s new UN representative, Vitaly Churkin, made this point clearly following a debate on policy toward Iran at the UN Security Council several days after the IAEA report, stating, “We are convinced that there is no military solution to the problem. However, complicated and diffi cult it may be, a political and diplomatic solution of the problem needs to be sought.”158

Meanwhile, in an effort to persuade Russia not to support the sanctions resolution, Iran dangled a major economic incentive – the chance to be the preferred bidder on two additional nuclear reactors,159 a development that would not only earn Russia valuable hard currency, but would also fi t nicely into Putin’s high-tech economic program.

In any case, the IAEA report of 28 April 2006 and the Russian reaction to it, demonstrates that Moscow has defi nitely chosen to preserve its ties with Iran at the expense of its relationship with the United States and its NATO allies. Such behavior makes a genuine partnership with NATO appear to be impossible.

Russia’s relations with Syria

After a long period of coolness dating back to the closing years of the Soviet Union, Russian–Syrian relations sharply improved in 2005. This happened just as Syria was growing increasingly isolated fi rst because of its heavy-handed policies in Lebanon – Syria had forced a 2004 change in the Lebanese constitution to allow a three-year extension to the term of Lebanon’s pro-Syrian president, Emile Lahoud – and then because of Syria’s purported involvement in the February 2005 assassination of former Lebanese prime minister, Rafi k Hariri.

On 2 September 2004, when the UN Security Council approved UN Resolution 1559 which called for the withdrawal of “all remaining foreign forces” from Lebanon and for “the disbanding and disarmament of all Lebanese and non-Lebanese militias,” Russia abstained choosing not to veto the resolution even though it was clearly aimed at Syria and its ally in Lebanon, the Hezbollah militia.160 However, following the passage of Resolution 1559, Russian policy changed. As mentioned above, in late 2004 Putin suffered a series of reversals because of the Orange Revolution in Ukraine and the Chechen terrorist attack on

148 R.O. Freedman

the school in Beslan, which demonstrated the incompetence of Putin’s security forces. Putin sought to compensate for these events by playing a more active role in the Middle East so as to demonstrate Russia was still a great power. Thus, as noted above, he fi nally signed the nuclear fuel agreement with Iran in February 2005 and moved to sharply improve relations with Syria.

Syria was a target of opportunity for Russia as it sought to rebuild its position in the Middle East. By the beginning of 2005 Syria was under heavy pressure on two fronts. Not only had the UN Security Council condemned its activities in Lebanon but the US was complaining that Syria had become a conduit for foreign Jihadists fi ghting in Iraq. Consequently, when Moscow, during Bashar Assad’s visit to Moscow in January 2005, agreed to write off 73 percent of Syria’s $13.4 billion debt to Russia, Putin demonstrated strong support for an increasingly isolated Syrian government.161 Then, in March 2005 Russia and Syria signed an agreement for Russia to develop new oil and gas deposits in Syria162 and in April, just before Putin arrived in Israel, Russia signed an agreement to provide surface-to-air missiles to Syria163 – a further sign of support for Syria which was under increasing pressure because of the assassination of Rafi k Hariri. Indeed under heavy international pressure, spearheaded by France and the United States, Syria was compelled to pull its troops out of Lebanon by the end of April, with Russia choosing once again not to interfere in the face of NATO solidarity on the issue.164

Then, the special commission investigating the assassination of Hariri, under the leadership of the German police offi cer Detlev Mehlis, issued an interim report in October 2005 implicating high-ranking members of the Syrian government, and noting that the Syrian regime had obstructed cooperation with the commission. At the same time, a committee under Terje Rød-Larsen issued a report to the UN that stated that Syria, despite pulling its forces out of Lebanon, had continued to supply Lebanese and Palestinian militias in Lebanon with weaponry.165 Upon the release of the two reports, the US, Britain and France, acting jointly, called for UN sanctions against Syria. As in the case of Iran, Moscow sought to prevent the sanctions and succeeded in somewhat watering down the UN Security Council Resolution criticizing Syria. Nonetheless, UN Security Council Resolution 1636 did condemn Syria for trying to mislead the Mehlis Commission by following a policy of “cooperating in form but not in substance,” and demanded Syria expand its cooperation with the investigation or face “further action.”166 While Foreign Minister Sergei Lavrov praised UN Security Council Resolution 1636 for taking Russia’s views into account,167 and did manage to prevent an immediate referral of Syria to the UN Security Council, as in the case of Iran, Moscow may face some diffi cult choices once the fi nal report on the Hariri assassination is issued.

In addition, the Russian supply of weapons to Syria raised further questions about Moscow’s intentions. Russia, at best, looked the other way as its sophisticated anti-tank weapons were transferred to Hezbollah, Syria’s primary ally in Lebanon, from Syria (and from Iran via Syria).168 By directly or indirectly providing weapons to an organization on the US terrorist list, weapons that were used during the summer 2006 Israel–Hezbollah war, Moscow showed once again that it could not be depended on to be a genuine ally for NATO.


In sum, in the case of Syria, it appears that while responding to a united effort by key NATO states to pressure Syria by weakening a UN resolution calling Damascus to account for its behavior as well as providing weapons to Syria which were then transferred to Hezbollah, Russia is acting against NATO interests. This is not the behavior one would expect from a partner. Indeed, as in the case of Iran, Putin appears to have chosen Syria over NATO.

Conclusions

In examining Russian behavior in four crisis areas of the Middle East – the war on terror, Iraq, Iran, and Syria – it does not appear as if Russia has met the criteria for becoming a genuine partner for NATO in the Middle East. In every case Russia has preferred to follow its own interests rather than seriously working with NATO states on the problem, and this has been especially true since January 2005.

In the war on terrorism, while blaming NATO countries for not imprisoning or extraditing Chechens deemed by Moscow to be terrorists, Putin has refused to put acknowledged terrorist organizations like Hamas and the PKK on its own terrorist list and even invited Hamas to visit Moscow. Similarly, while Russia has carefully cultivated the Arab and Muslim worlds in an effort to reduce their support for the Chechen rebellion, in 2005 Moscow joined with the fi ve Central Asian states and China in the Shanghai Cooperation Organization to demand the US leave its bases in Central Asia – just as the Taliban, linked to the terrorist organization Al Qaeda were going on the offensive. These are not the actions of a country that could be a partner for NATO in the war on terrorism.

In the case of Iraq, serious divisions within NATO in the rundown to the war, which Russia exploited, prevented NATO unity, let alone NATO–Russian cooperation on Iraq. After the war, however, there was increasing cooperation among most of the leaders of the NATO states as the Iraqi insurgency grew (Spain was a notable exception), and the defeat of German Chancellor Gerhard Schroeder in the 2005 elections further increased cooperation. Meanwhile, for its part, Russia became what might be termed a de facto partner of the quest for stability in Iraq, as it agreed to waive 90 percent of Iraq’s debts and appeared to become resigned to the need to maintain the multinational force in that country until the Iraqi army could be trained to provide security. The reason for the transformation of the Russian position, however, was not to cooperate with NATO per se, but rather to create an atmosphere in Iraq wherein Russian business interests in that country, as well as Russian infl uence, could be rebuilt. Under these circumstances it is doubtful whether Russia could be considered a real partner for NATO in Iraq.

In the case of Iran, the positions of the leading NATO states, the EU3, and the US became increasingly congruent between 2003 and 2006 as revelations that Iran was hiding information from the IAEA emerged, and Iran repeatedly violated agreements it had made both with the IAEA and the EU3. In the face of the growing NATO unity, and initially, in 2003, in fear that the US might follow up its ouster of the Saddam Hussein regime in Iraq with an attack on Iran, Moscow supported IAEA inspection of all Iranian nuclear facilities and the additional protocol

150 R.O. Freedman

which allowed the IAEA to make unannounced inspections of these facilities. In addition, while constructing a nuclear reactor for Iran at Bushehr, Russia also came to agree with the EU3 and US position to get Iran to sign an agreement to send all the spent fuel back to Moscow so it could not be used in nuclear weapons. Russia also appears to have delayed completion of the reactor until Iran met these requirements.

On the other hand, there is no clear guarantee that once the reactor is operating, Iran will not be able to secretly divert some of the spent fuel, and this is the reason the United States so strongly opposed completion of the reactor. In addition, in the face of frequent Iranian violations of its agreements with the EU3, Moscow repeatedly sought to prevent the Iranian violations from being reported to the UN Security Council, where Russia would have to be forced to vote on sanctions. To make matters worse, while Iran was continuing its violations in the Fall of 2005, Moscow chose to sign a $1 billion arms deal with it, including $700 million in surface-to-air missiles that could be used to protect Iranian nuclear installations from a NATO (or Israeli) attack. Under these circumstances, it is doubtful whether Russia could be considered a genuine partner for NATO on Iran, even with the US–EU3–Russian offer to Iran to allow it some low level uranium enrichment – an offer the Iranians still have not accepted as of November 2007.

Finally, in the case of Syria, one can see another example of Russia trying to protect a client from UN sanctions. With Syria under strong pressure from a united NATO because of its heavy-handed policies in Lebanon (UN Security Council Resolution 1559) Russia chose to waive 90 percent of Syria’s debt. Then, when Syria stood accused of masterminding the assassination of former Lebanese prime minister, Rafi k Hariri, Russia agreed to sell it surface-to-air missiles. Then, when Syria was accused not only with failure to cooperate with the UN team investigating the assassination, but also with smuggling weapons back into Lebanon after its troops had pulled out, and again a united NATO demanded sanctions, Russia managed to water down a UN resolution so that it did not immediately call for sanctions. At the same time, it provided Syria with weapons that it transferred to Hezbollah for use in the Summer 2006 Israel–Hezbollah war. Thus in reviewing Russia’s behavior toward Syria, once again Russia cannot be deemed a partner for NATO.

In sum, a review of the four cases indicates that Russia has been primarily following its own interests in the war on terrorism, Iraq, Iran and Syria and cannot be deemed a real partner for NATO in these crises. Under these circumstances as well as because of Russia’s retreat from democracy, NATO leaders should seriously consider how much Putin’s Russia can be trusted to play a positive role in the international community, let alone whether it can qualify to be a partner for NATO.


Notes

1 Anatoly Medetsky, “Kiriyenko Tapped To Run Rosatom,” Moscow News, 16 November 2005.

2 For a more sympathetic view of Putin and his policies, see Richard Sawka, Putin: Russia’s Choice (London: Routledge, 2004.).

3 Interviews with US State Department offi cials, Washington, D.C., January 2002. 4 For a view of Russia’s problems in this area, see Dmitri Trenin, The End of Eurasia:

Russia on the Border Between Geopolitics and Globalization (Washington: Carnegie Endowment for Peace, 2004), chap. 3.

5 See Matthew Evangelista, The Chechen Wars (Washington: Brookings Institution, 2002.).

6 See Mark Katz, “Saudi–Russian Relations in the Putin Era,” Middle East Journal, Vol. 55, No. 4 (August 2001).

7 Cited in article by Aleksandr Samokhotin, Vremya Novostei, 14 May 2003 (translated in Current Digest of the Post Soviet Press [hereafter CDSP], Vol. 55, No. 19, 2003, p. 20).

8 Cited in AP Worldstream via Comtex, “Head of Moscow-backed Administration in Chechnya Invited to Saudi Arabia,” Zawya, Arab business and fi nance online report, 4 September 2003.

9 Itar Tass, 19 January 2004, “Chechen President Says Saudi Funds for Rebels to Dry Up,” Foreign Broadcast Information Service Daily Report: Russia [hereafter FBIS:Russia], 19 January 2004.

10 Arkady Dubnov, “Relations Between Russia and Malaysia Reach Cosmic Heights,” Vremya Novostei, 6 August 2003 (CDSP, Vol. 55, No. 31, p. 18).

11 Cited in Caroline McGregor, “President Speaks to Muslim World,” Moscow Times,20 October 2003.

12 Cited in Maksim Glikin, “Protocols of the Elder of Malaysia,” Nezavisimaya Gazetza,17 October 2003 (CDSP, Vol. 55, No. 41, p. 17).

13 Aleksandr Shvaryov, “Prosecutor’s Offi ce Identifi es Perpetrators of Terrorist Attacks in Subway and at National Hotel,” Vremya Novostei, 29 September 2004 (CDSP, Vol. 56, No. 39, p. 11).

14 Cited in Yelena Suponina, “Arab Monarch Arrests Russian Security Offi cers,” VremyaNovostei, 27 February 2004 (CDSP, Vol. 56, No. 8, p. 18).

15 “Qatar Hands Over Jailed Russian Agents,” Moscow Times, 24 December 2004. Reportedly, the two are to continue to serve their prison sentences in Russia. Whether this actually happens is highly doubtful.

16 See Steven Lee Myers, “Investigation Says Russians Acted Ineptly in School Raid,” New York Times, 30 November 2005.

17 Marina Kalashnikova, “Russia Rejects Bush’s Pet Project,” Russky Kuryer, 2 February 2004 (CDSP, Vol. 56, No. 5, p. 19).

18 Natalya Ratiani, “Moscow Finally Supports Bush Initiative,” Izvestia, 1 June 2004 (CDSP, Vol. 56, No. 22, p. 20).

19 Cited in Yelena Lashkina, “Shanghai Cooperation Organization Goes on Offensive Against Terrorism,” Rossiskaya Gazeta, 18 June 2004 (CDSP, Vol. 56, No. 25, p. 17).

152 R.O. Freedman

20 Gregory Asmolov, “Israel’s Intelligence Community Will Support Russia’s,” Kommersant, 7 September 2004 (CDSP, Vol. 56, No. 36, p. 23). See also Pavel Felgenauer, “Israel as the Promised Land of Russian Generals,” Moscow Times,11 November 2004.

21 Cited in Sergei Strokan, “UN Security Council Gives Vladimir Putin Carte Blanche,” Kommersant, 3 September 2004 (CDSP, Vol. 56, No. 35, p. 6).

22 Mikhail Zygar, “PACE Refuses To Recognize Him as a Legitimate President,” Kommersant, 8 October 2004 (CDSP, Vol. 56, Nos 40–1, p. 25). In April 2003, PACE had voted to recommend the establishment of an international tribunal to try both Chechens and Russians who were accused of war crimes (Sawka, op. cit., p. 180).

23 See Sergei Strokan, “Battle of Britain Is Not Over,” Kommersant, 9 July 2005 (CDSP,Vol. 57, No. 27, pp. 15–16).

24 Voice of Israel external service: “Israel: Shalom, Saltanov Discuss Terror List, Iran’s Nuclear Build-up,” 14 April 2005 (FBIS: Russia, 16 April 2005). See also Ekaterina Stepanova, “Russia’s Approach to the Fight Against Terrorism,” in Jacob Hedenskog, ed., Russia as a Great Power (London: Routledge, 2005).

25 See Grigory Asmolov, “Israel’s Intelligence Community Will Assist Russia’s,” Kommersant, 7 September 2004 (CDSP, Vol. 36, No. 26, p. 23); and Yula Petrovskaya, “Russia Is a Collateral Victim of Terror in the Middle East,” Nezavisimaya Gazeta,11 October 2004 (CDSP, Vol. 56, Nos 40–1, p. 23).

26 Cf Turkish Press.com, “Aksu Conveys Turkey’s Expectation from Russia Regarding PKK,” 22 October 2005.

27 See Andrei Kolesnikov, “Russia Prods Asia To Give America an Ultimatum,” Kommersant, 6 July 2005 (CDSP, Vol. 57, No. 27, p. 3).

28 See Robert O. Freedman, Russian Policy Toward the Middle East Since the Collapse of the Soviet Union: The Yeltsin Legacy and the Challenge for Putin (Seattle: Henry Jackson School of International Studies, University of Washington, Donald Treadgold Paper #23, 2001), p. 55.

29 Itar Tass, “Hamas’ Mishal Says Chechen Separatists Russian Internal Problem,” 3 March 2006 (FBIS: Russia, 3 March 2006).

30 Kavkaz Tsentr News Agency, “Chechen Rebel Offi cial Criticizing Hamas Decision To Visit Moscow,” 4 March 2006 (FBIS: Russia, 5 March 2006).

31 Cited in Reuters report, “Hamas Heads to Moscow in Bid for Legitimacy,” TurkishDaily News (online edition), 2 March 2006.

32 Less than a week after canceling the Lukoil project, Iraq ordered 5000 taxis from the Russian fi rm GAZ, in a $25 million dollar deal (Simon Ostrovsky, “Baghdad Orders 5,000 Volga Taxis from GAZ,” Moscow Times, 20 December 2002).

33 See Craig S. Smith, “3 NATO Members and Russia Resist U.S. on Iraq Plans,” NewYork Times, 11 February 2003. Two weeks later, Russian Foreign Minister Igor Ivanov, in a news conference in Beijing, threatened to use the Russian veto against a proposed US–British resolution in the UN Security Council authorizing the use of force against Iraq (AP report, “Russia Warns of Iraq War Resolution Veto,” Washington Post,28 February 2003). Putin himself, in Paris on 12 February, had hinted that Russia might use its veto (John Leicester, “Putin: Russia Could Use Its Veto at UN,” Moscow Times,12 February 2003).


34 For the complete text of Putin’s speech, see Rossiskaya Gazeta, 21 March 2003 (CDSP,Vol. 55, No. 11, p. 5).

35 See Peter Slevin, “Three Russian Firms’ Deals Anger U.S.: Iraq Purchased Jamming Gear, Missiles, Night Vision Goggles,” Washington Post, 23 March 2003. See also Bob Drogin, “Banned Arms Flowed into Iraq through Syrian fi rms,” Los Angeles Times, 30 December 2003.

36 Steve Gutterman, “Russia’s Ambassador Accuses U.S. for Firing on Convoy,” MoscowTimes, 8 April 2003; AP report, “Russia Deploys Fighters To Track U.S. Spy Plane,” The [Baltimore] Sun, 23 March 2003.

37 Nicholas Kralev, “U.S. Rebuffs Russian Call for Cease-fi re,” Washington Times,27 March 2003.

38 Anti-American feelings in Russia preceded the war. One poll, taken in early March 2003, revealed that 75 percent of the respondents saw the US as an “aggressor that wants to gain control of every country in the world.” See Georgy Ilyichov, “Russians’ and Americans’ Attitudes Toward Iraq Differ Fundamentally,” Izvestia, 15 March 2003 (CDSP, Vol. 55, No. 11, p. 6). For a perceptive article on Russian public opinion during the war, see Leonid Radzikovsky, Rossiskaya Gazeta, 29 March 2003 (CDSP,Vol. 55, No. 13, p. 13). See also Andrew Jack, “Russians Demonstrate Against U.S. Intervention,” Financial Times, 10 April 2003.

39 Michael Wines, “Rival Russian Parties Try To Recast Their Images,” New York Times,2 May 2003.

40 Cited in Sharon LaFraniere, “Russia’s Putin Calls Iraq War a Mistake,” WashingtonPost, 18 March 2003.

41 For the text of United Nations Security Council Resolution #1483, see the UN website, UN Resolution 1483, adopted 22 May 2003.

42 Cited in “For Oil Contracts Russia Will Waive Most of Iraq’s $8 billion Debt,” NewYork Times, 23 December 2003.

43 For details on the ups and downs of the Lukoil experience in Iraq, see Robert O. Freedman, “Russian Policy Toward the Middle East Under Putin,” in Bulent Aras, ed.,War in the Gardens of Babylon: The Middle East After the Iraqi War (Istanbul: Tasam, 2004, pp. 66–7).

44 Cited in Christopher Marquis, “Russia Sees Iraqi Debt Relief as Link to Oil, U.S. Aides Say,” New York Times, 17 January 2004.

45 Simon Ostrovsky, “Kamaz Links Iraqi Bus Deal,” Moscow Times, 26 February 2004. 46 Yuri Spirin, “Emergency Situations Ministry To Start Evacuating Russian Citizens from

Iraq,” Izvestia, 15 April 2004 (CDSP, Vol. 56, No. 15, pp. 2–3). 47 Cited in Andrei Zlobin, “Point of Return,” Vremya Novostei, 15 April 2004 (CDSP,

Vol. 56, No. 15, p. 5). 48 Olga Shevel, “Second Blood,” Russky Kuryer, 27 May 2004 (CDSP, Vol. 56, No. 21, p. 22). 49 For a Russian perspective on UNSC Resolution #1546, see Sergei Mironov, “No One

Wanted To Object,” Rossiskaya Gazeta, 10 June 2004 (CDSP, Vol. 56, No. 23, p. 1). 50 Cited in Andrei Denisov, “Good-luck Island,” Vremya Novostei, 10 June 2004 (CDSP,

Vol. 56, No. 23, pp. 1–2). 51 Mikhail Zygar, “A Little Intelligence Among Friends,” Kommersant, 21 2004 (CDSP,

Vol. 56, No. 25, p. 6).

154 R.O. Freedman

52 Alexander Reutov, “Probe Concerning Peacekeeping Forces,” Kommersant, 26 July 2004 (CDSP, Vol. 56, No. 30, p. 18).

53 Ibid. However, from time to time the Russian Defense Ministry stated it was interested in selling weapons to, and even providing peacekeeping forces for, Iraq (see MoscowTimes, “Hot News,” 16 November 2004).

54 Ibid. 55 See Yuri Kovalenko, “Who Took Bribes from Saddam,” Russky Kuryer, 12 October

2004 (CDSP, Vol. 56, Nos 40–1, p. 24). See also Itar Tass, “Russia for Holding Iraqi Elections on Schedule,” 19 November 2004 (FBIS: Russia, 19 November 2004); and Greg Walters, “Reports: Moscow Thwarting Oil-for-Food Probe,” Moscow Times,10 December 2004. See also the CIA report on Iraq’s WMD by Charles Duelfeer, Vol. 1; and Greg Walters, “Russia Was Hussein’s Top Oil Agent: UN,” Moscow Times, 25 October 2004. Russian fi rms bought $19.2 billion of Iraqi oil and exported $3.3 billion of UN-approved goods to Iraq.

56 Reutov, see note 52. 57 Ilona Vinogradova, “Iraq Promises to ‘Verify’ Contracts with Russian Oil Sector,”

Izvestia, 8 December 2004 (Foreign Broadcast Information Service Daily Report: The Middle East and South Asia [hereafter FBIS: MESA], 8 December 2004).

58 Interfax, “Lukoil Chief Says Talks with Iraqi Premier Improve Company’s Prospects in Iraq,” 7 December 2004 (FBIS: Russia, 7 December 2004). Alekperov may also have felt Lukoil’s chances in Iraq had improved because, in September, a 7.6 percent Russian government stake in Lukoil was sold to the US oil company Conoco Phillips.

59 Vinogradova, see note 57. 60 Ivan Groshkov, “Interim Premier Received in Kremlin. Vladimir Putin and Iyad

Allawi Leave Specifi c Decisions to Later,” Nezavisimaya Gazeta, 8 December 2004 (FBIS: MESA, 8 December 2004). See also Novosty, “Russia Says Not Considering Sending Observers to Iraq Election,” 29 December 2004 (FBIS: Russia, 29 December 2004.)

61 Interfax, “Putin Says Situation in Iraq Too Unsafe for Russian Companies To Return,” 10 December 2004 (FBIS: Russia, 10 December 2004).

62 Itar Tass, “Russian Offi cial Says Training of Iraqi Security Forces Possible,” 9 February 2005 (FBIS: Russia, 10 February 2005).

63 Itar Tass, “Spokesman Says Russia Ready To Develop All-round Cooperation with Iraq” (FBIS: Russia, 29 April 2005).

64 Itar Tass, “Putin Says Russia To Expand Efforts To Support Iraqi People,” 27 April 2005 (FBIS: Russia, 28 April 2005).

65 Interfax, “Russian Foreign Ministry Confi rms Attack on its Vehicles in Iraq,” 5 July 2005 (FBIS: Russia, 6 July 2005).

66 Cited in Interfax, “Russian Diplomatic Panorama,” 19 September 2005 (FBIS: Russia,21 September 2005).

67 For a review of the relations between Russia and Iran in the Yeltsin era, and the fi rst years of Putin, see Robert O. Freedman, Russian Policy Toward the Middle East Since the Collapse of the Soviet Union: The Yeltsin Legacy and the Challenge for Putin(Seattle: Henry Jackson School of International Studies, University of Washington, 2001).


68 For a useful survey of the Iranian nuclear installations, see Joseph Cirincione et al.,Deadly Arsenals, Nuclear, Biological and Chemical Threats, 2nd edn (Washington: Carnegie Endowment, 2005), chap. 15. See also William Broad and David Sanger, “Relying on Computer, U.S. Seeks To Prove Iran’s Nuclear Arms,” New York Times,13 November 2005.

69 See Guy Dinmore, “Russia Ready To Supply N-fuel to Iran,” Financial Times,24 December 2002.

70 Guy Dinmore, “U.S. Raises Fears Over Iran’s Nuclear Policy,” Financial Times,24 February 2003.

71 Cited in Ali Akbar Dareini, “Iran’s First Nuclear Power Plant 70 percent Constructed,” AP report, Washington Times, 12 March 2003.

72 Interfax, 28 May 2003, “Moscow–Tehran Cooperation Gives No Grounds for Criticism – Russian Foreign Minister” (FBIS: Russia, Diplomatic Panorama, 28 May 2003).

73 Simon Saradzhyan, “Russia Needs Iran Proof or Incentives,” Moscow Times, 3 June 2003.

74 Cited in New York Times, 3 June 2003, “Primary Points from the Statements of the Group of 8.” See also Judy Dempsey, “EU Presses Iran on Nuclear Arms,” FinancialTimes, 27 May 2003.

75 Cited in Vladimir Isachenko, “Russia Will Ship Nuclear Fuel to Iran,” Washington Post,5 June 2003.

76 Cited in Ibid. 77 Cited in “World Scene,” Washington Times, 14 September 2003. 78 Cited in Dana Milbank, “Putin Agrees in Spirit but Little Else,” Washington Post,

28 September 2003. 79 Seth Mydans, “Russia Ready To Help Iran with A-plant,” New York Times, 11 November

2003. 80 Ibid. 81 Cited in Tehran IRNA, 13 November 2003, “Russian Spokesman Calls Meetings with

Rowhani ‘Constructive’” (FBIS: MESA, 13 November 2003). 82 Cited in Judy Dempsey and Guy Dinmore, “Nuclear Monitor Compromises on Iran,”

Financial Times, 27 November 2003. 83 Cited in Guy Dinmore, “All Options Are Open, U.S. Warns Five ‘Rogue’ Countries,”

Financial Times, 3 December 2003. 84 “Stronger Non-proliferation Treaty Sought by U.S.,” Financial Times, 26 January 2004. 85 See Scott Peterson, “Evidence of Possible Work on Nukes Tests Iran’s Credibility,”

Christian Science Monitor, 26 February 2004; and Carla Anne Robbins, “U.N. Report Ties Nuclear Program to Iran’s Military,” Wall Street Journal, 25 February 2004.

86 Cited in Itar Tass report, 27 January 2004, “Russian Minister Plays Down IAEA’s Nuclear Security Fears” (FBIS: Russia, 27 January 2004).

87 Cited in Itar Tass report, 5 February 2004, “Atomic Energy Minister Fears Non-proliferation Safeguards May Fail” (FBIS: Russia, 5 February 2004).

88 See Andrey Kioloskov, “Who Is Lighting Up Iran: Energy Systems Expand in Synch,” Rossiskaya Gazeta, 17 December 2004 (FBIS: Russia, 17 December 2004) and Tehran IRNA, “Iran To Purchase Russian Topolev Passenger Planes,” 26 November 2004 (FBIS: MESA, 26 November 2004).

156 R.O. Freedman

89 Cited on Tehran TV, Vision of the Islamic Republic Report, 26 October 2004 (FBIS:MESA, 26 October 2004).

90 For an excellent review of Iran’s violations, see International Institute for Strategic Studies, IISS Strategic Comments, “Iran’s Nuclear Program Suspended Animation,” Vol. 10, No. 9 (November 2004).

91 Ibid. 92 Cited in Paul Hughes, “Iran Says Nuclear Freeze Won’t Last Long,” Reuters,

30 November 2004. 93 Straw’s reported comments were: “The prospect of it (war against Iran) is inconceivable.

I don’t see any circumstances in which military action would be justifi ed against Iran, full stop” (Cited in “Sigh of Relief,” Jordan Times, 7 November 2004).

94 For a Russian view of this possibility, see Arthur Blinov and Andrey Vaganov, “Iran–Iraq Slap in Moscow’s Face: Russia Sidelined When Questions of Freezing Tehran’s Nuclear Program and Writing Off Baghdad’s Debt Are Tackled,” Nezavizimaya Gazeta, 23 November 2004 (FBIS: Russia, 24 November 2004).

95 Cited in Dmitry Suslov, “Iranian Draw,” Russky Kuryer, 13 June 2004 (CDSP, Vol. 56, No. 24, p. 15).

96 Cited in Alexei Andreyev, “Sochi Three,” Russky Kuryer, 1 September 2004 (CDSP,Vol. 56, No. 35, p. 19).

97 Cited in Andrei Zlobin, “Iran Could Face Sanctions,” Vremya Novostei, 20 September 2004 (CDSP, Vol. 56, No. 38, p. 22).

98 Mehr News Agency (Tehran), “Russia’s ‘Secret’ Moves Against Iran at IAEA Revealed,” 29 November 2004 (FBIS: MESA, 29 November 2004).

99 Interfax, “Putin Says [He] Applauds Iran’s Decision To Suspend Uranium Enrichment Program,” 25 November 2004 (FBIS: Russia, 25 November 2004).

100 Interfax, “Russian Foreign Ministry Welcomes [Well-balanced] IAEA Resolution on Iran,” 20 November 2004 (FBIS: Russia, 30 November 2004).

101 Itar Tass, “Russia Hopes Iran To Continue Cooperation with IAEA,” 30 November 2004 (FBIS: Russia, 30 November 2004).

102 During the early part of 2005, Putin decided to sell surface-to-air missiles to Syria, and he also visited Egypt, Israel and the Palestinian Authority in April.

103 Kommersant, “Russia Will Equip Iranian Subs with Missiles,” 5 July 2005. Cited in Habalar report, 6 July 2005. See also Agenstvo Voyennykh Novostey, “Russian Shipyard Plans To Upgrade Iranian Submarines with 200 km Club-5 Missile” (FBIS:Russia, 6 July 2005).

104 Mehdi Mohammadi, “Gone with the Wind,” Keyhan, January 2005 (FBIS: MESA,9 January 2005).

105 Scott Peterson, “Russia Fuels Iran’s Atomic Bid, Christian Science Monitor,28 February 2005.

106 Peter Baker, “U.S.–Russian Pact Aimed at Nuclear Terrorism,” Washington Post,24 February 2005.

107 Cited in Nazila Fathi, “Iran Says It Won’t Give Up Program To Enrich Uranium,” New York Times, 6 March 2005.

108 David Sanger, “U.S. and European Allies Agree on Steps in Iranian Dispute,” NewYork Times, 11 March 2005.


109 Vision of Islamic Republic of Iran (Tehran), “Iran Foreign Ministry Spokesman Dismisses EU Proposal as a ‘Joke’, Notes Three ‘Flaws’,” 7 August 2005 (FBIS: MESA, 8 August 2005).

110 For the text of the EU proposals, see Mehr News Agency, “Full Text of EU Nuclear Proposal,” 5 August 2005 (FBIS: MESA, 6 August 2005).

111 Cited in Dafna Linzer, “Iran Is Judged 10 Years from Bomb,” Washington Post,2 August 2005.

112 Cited in Dafna Linzer, “Iran Resumes Uranium Work, Ignores Warning,” WashingtonPost, 9 August 2005.

113 Kathrin Benhold, “Europeans Call Off Talks as Iran Balks on Nuclear Issue,” NewYork Times, 24 August 2005.

114 RIA, “Russian Foreign Ministry Urges Iran To Stop Uranium Conversion Without Delay,” Moscow Times, 10 August 2005.

115 Elaine Sciolino, “Chirac Warns Iran of Penalty If It Continues Nuclear Work,” NewYork Times, 30 August 2005.

116 “Russia Opposes Reporting Iran to UNSC,” New York Times, 5 September 2005. 117 Cited in Dafna Linzer, “Iran’s President Does What U.S. Diplomacy Could Not,”

Washington Post, 19 September 2005. 118 Itar Tass, “Russia Opposes Referral of Iran to UN Security Council,” 22 September

2005 (FBIS: Russia, 23 September 2005). 119 For the full text of the IAEA resolution, see IAEA website, “Implementation of the

NPT Safeguards Agreement in the Islamic Republic of Iran.” Resolution adopted on 24 September 2005.

120 Robin Wright, “Rice Is Rebuffed by Russia on Iran,” Washington Post, 16 October 2005. 121 Interfax, “Russia: Putin Advocates Iran Developing Cooperation with the IAEA,

Renewing Talks,” 25 October 2005 (FBIS: Russia, 26 October 2005). 122 Cited in Nazila Fathi, “Iran’s New President Says Israel Must Be Wiped Off the Map,”

New York Times, 27 October 2005. 123 Cited in Ivan Groshkov, “Iranian President’s Anti-Israeli Remarks Viewed, Deemed

Dirty Trick on Lavrov,” Nezavisimaya Gazeta, 30 October 2005 (FBIS: Russia,1November 2005).

124 Cited in Interfax, “Moscow’s Position on Iran Not Infl uenced by Tehran’s Statement,” 27 October 2005 (FBIS: Russia, 28 October 2005).

125 Statement to the Board of Directors by IAEA Director General, Dr Mohamed ElBaradei, 24 November 2005 (IAEA website), and IRNA, “Full Text of Iranian Representative’s Address to the IAEA Board,” 25 November 2005 (FBIS: MESA,27 November 2005).

126 Cited in AP report, “Iran Got Black Market Warhead Design – IAEA,” Jordan Times,20 November 2005. See also Dafna Linzer, “U.S. Backs Russian Plan To Resolve Iran Crisis,” Washington Post, 19 November 2005.

127 Cited in Parisa Hafezi, “Iran Signals Defi ance Ahead of IAEA Meeting,” Reuters, 15 November 2005. See also Richard Bernstein, “Iran Has Resumed Reprocessing Uranium, Diplomat Said,” New York Times, 17 November 2005.

128 AP, “Parliament Approves Bill To Block UN Nuclear Agency Inspections,” JordanTimes, 20 November 2005.

158 R.O. Freedman

129 Itar Tass, “Russia Sees ‘No Reason’ To Refer Iran to UN Security Council,” 21 November 2005 (FBIS: Russia, 22 November 2005).

130 Rohan Sullivan, “Bush Backs Putin’s Uranium Plan,” AP Report, Moscow Times,21 November 2005. See also Roula Khalaf, “EU-3 Willing To Explore New Iran Nuclear Talks,” Financial Times, 23 November 2005.

131 Fars News Agency, “Iran MP Says Country Must Reject Production of Nuclear Fuel in Russia,” 25 November 2005 (FBIS: MESA, 26 November 2005).

132 Cited in George Jahn, “EU Accuses Iran, Warns of Sanctions,” AP report, WashingtonTimes, 25 November 2005.

133 Cited in statement to the Board of Governors by IAEA Director General, Dr Mohamed ElBaradei, November 2005 (IAEA website).

134 See Andrew Kramer, “Russia To Sell Anti-aircraft Missiles to Iran in Billion Dollar Deal,” New York Times, 3 December 2005. See also Lyuba Pronina, “Moscow Inks Arms Deal with Tehran,” Moscow Times, 5 December 2005; and Ria-Novosti, “Russian Offi cial Says Sales of Tor-MI Missile Systems to Iran Continue,” 15 December 2005 (FBIS: Russia, 16 December 2005).

135 Itar Tass, “Russia: Foreign Ministry Says Iran’s Attempts To Revise Holocaust Facts Unacceptable,” 15 December 2005 (FBIS: Russia, 16 December 2004). In denouncing the Admadinezhad statement, the President of the EU’s Administrative Council, Jose Manuel Barrosco, stated that Iranians “do not have the president, or the regime, they deserve. It calls our attention to the real danger of that regime having an atomic bomb” (Cited in Ali Akbar Dareini, “Iranian President Calls Holocaust a ‘Myth’,” AP/Washington Post, 14 December 2005).

136 Elaine Sciolino, “Iran Proposes New Talks with Europeans Who Are Mostly Dismissive,” New York Times, 18 January 2006.

137 Cited in Artur Blinov, “Tehran Agrees to Talks with Moscow,” Nezavisimaya Gazeta,6 February 2006 (CDSP, Vol. 58, No. 6, p. 18). See also Michael Adler, “Iran Nuclear Issue To Be Reported to UN Security Council,” AFP, 5 February 2006 (FBIS: MESA,6 February 2006).

138 Itar Tass, “Russian Atomic Chief Hopes Iran To Be First To Join Enrichment Center,” 8 February 2006 (FBIS: Russia, 9 February 2006).

139 Blinov, see note 137. See also Ali Akbar Dareini, “Nuclear Inspections Are Curbed by Iran,” AP/Washington Post, 6 February 2006; and Alissa Rubin, “Rejecting Cooperation, Iran Asks IAEA To Remove Seals, Cameras,” Los Angeles Times (onlineedition), 7 February 2006.

140 Cited in AP report, “Russia’s Nuke Talks with Iran ‘Not Easy’,” Jordan Times (onlineedition), 23 February 2006.

141 Oliver Bullough, “No Nuclear Breakthrough as Iran Stands Fast,” (AP/Moscow Times,2 March 2006).

142 Elaine Sciolino, “Iran Softens Tone, but Talks with Europeans on Nuclear Program End in Bitterness,” New York Times, 4 March 2006.

143 “Introductory Statement to the Board of Governors by IAEA Director General, Mohamed ElBaradei,” 6 March 2006 (IAEA website).

144 Elaine Sciolino, “Russia and West Split on Iran Nuclear Issue,” New York Times,7 March 2006; and AFP North European Service, “IAEA’s ElBaradei Favors Iran


‘Small-scale’ Nuclear Program,” 16 February 2006 (FBIS: Russia, 18 February 2006).

145 Michael Slackman and David Sanger, “U.S. and Iranians Agree To Discuss Violence in Iraq,” New York Times, 17 March 2006. Ahmadinezhad’s letter to Bush in early May 2006 may have had the same goal.

146 Cited in Neil Buckley et al., “Moscow May Be Losing Patience with Tehran Stance in Nuclear Stand-off,” Financial Times, 14 March 2006.

147 The text of the 29 March 2006 statement was published in the Washington Post (online edition), 30 March 2006.

148 Cited in “Big Powers Fail To Agree [on] Iran Strategy,” Financial Times, 31 March 2006.

149 Cited in Moscow Times, 12 April 2006. 150 Cited in Mehr News Agency, “Offi cial Says Iran Informed IAEA of Plan To Complete

Natanz Site, 3,000 Centrifuges,” 12 April 2006 (FBIS: MESA, 13 April 2006). See also Henry Mayer, “Iran Vows To Boost Uranium Program,” AP/Moscow Times, 13 April 2006.

151 Cited in AP report, “Iran Rejects UN Request To Halt Its Nuclear Activity,” Los Angeles Times (online edition), 14 April 2006. Ahmadinezhad reportedly said, “Our answer to those who are angry about Iran achieving the full nuclear cycle is just one phrase. We say ‘Be angry at us and die of this anger’.”

152 Cited in Mehr News Agency, “Iran President Ahmadinezhad Reveals P-2 Testing by Iranian Scientists,” 18 April 2006 (FBIS: MESA, 19 April 2006).

153 Itar Tass, “Russian Atomic Head Says Iran Nuclear Problem May Have Diplomatic Solution,” 14 April 2006 (FBIS: Russia, 15 April 2006).

154 Cited in AFP/Reuters report, “World United in Alarm Over Iran Nuclear Advance,” Turkish Times (online edition), 13 April 2006.

155 Cited in Simon Saradzhyan, “Russia Seeks Iran Diplomacy,” Moscow Times, 19 April 2006.

156 Paul Richter and Kim Murphy, “U.S. Wants Embargo on Arms to Iran,” Los Angeles Times (online edition), 22 April 2006.

157 Cited in Maggie Farly and Alissa J. Rubin, “UN Nuclear Agency Takes Steps Toward Sanctions on Iran,” Los Angeles Times (online edition), 29 April 2006. See also Elaine Sciolino, “UN Agency Says Iran Falls Short on Nuclear Data: Enrichment Is Confi rmed,” New York Times, 29 April 2006.

158 Cited in Itar Tass, “Russia’s UN Envoy Rules Out Threat of Force in Iran Resolution,” 3 May 2006 (FBIS: Russia, 4 May 2006).

159 Itar Tass, “Russia Ready To Bid for New Iranian Nuclear Contracts,” 2 May 2006 (FBIS: Russia, 4 May 2006). See also Interfax, “Iranian Envoy Says Russian Bid for New Nuclear Contracts To Be Viewed Favorably,” (FBIS: Russia, 23 April 2006).

160 For the text of UN Security Council Resolution #1559, see United Nations website, 2 September 2004.

161 Nabi Abdullaev, “Assad Praises Russia, Wins Debt Deal,” Moscow Times, 25 January 2005.

162 RIA, “Russian Company Signs Oil, Gas Exploration Deal with Syria,” 21 March 2005 (FBIS: Russia, 22 March 2005).

160 R.O. Freedman

163 Steve Gutterman, “Putin Defends Missile Sale to Syria,” AP report, Moscow Times,29 April 2005.

164 Interfax – Agenstvo Voyennykh Novostoy, “Russian Foreign Minister: Syria Should Withdraw Security Forces from Lebanon,” 11 March 2005 (FBIS: Russia, 13 March 2005).

165 The two reports are found on the United Nations website. 166 Cited in Resolution #1636 (2005), 31 October 2005, United Nations website, Security

Council, 31 October 2005. 167 Interfax, “Lavrov Voted for Syria Resolution Because Her [Russia’s] Views [Were]

Taken into Account,” 31 October 2005 (FBIS: Russia, 31 October 2005). 168 Cf Interfax, “Russian FM: Facts Needed Before Conclusions on Hezbollah’s Use

of Russian Arms,” 8 September 2006 (FBIS: Russia, 9 September 2006); and Igor Plugatarev, “Israeli Tanks Ran Up Against Russian Weapons,” Nezavisimaya Gazeta,15 August 2006 (FBIS: Russia, 16 August 2006).

9 Is East–West integration possible?

Stephen J. Blank*

In 2002 Russian, American, and European elites claimed to have agreed upon the goal of reuniting Russia with the West.1 They also understood that realizing that goal would oblige the West to make Russia a full partner within the Euro-Atlantic world and duly take its interests into account.2 Yet today that concord has been dashed and trends point in the other direction. Partnership is as far away as ever. Neither is this merely a matter of Russian estrangement from America. In fact, mutual EU–Russian skepticism and tension on economic, political and military issues is pervasive and probably growing.3 Russia has visibly renounced the strategic course towards integration proclaimed by President Vladimir Putin and Foreign Minister Igor Ivanov in 2001–02. And it long ago deviated from an evolution toward democracy that was hoped for fi fteen years ago.

Neither are the six goals for Russia laid out by the Bush Administration anywhere near realization. Although the term “integration” is not present in the six goals of the Bush Administration listed here. The goals are:

1 Russia integrated into, and linking the Euro-Atlantic and Northeast Asian zones;

2 Russia as a key partner against terrorism and proliferation, particularly in the Middle East, Caucasus and Central Asia;

3 Russia contributing to international coalitions for regional stability and humanitarian assistance;

4 Russia as a reliable supplier of energy on commercial terms to global markets;

5 Russian–US partnership in space and in advancing high-technology frontiers;

6 Russia as a consolidated free-market democracy.4

Thus both sides seem to be trapped in a spiral of mutual estrangement. As Dmitry Trenin recently wrote,

* The views expressed here do not represent those of the US Army, Defense Department, or the US Government.

162 S.J. Blank

Western relations with Russia can no longer be described in terms of integra-tion, as it is traditionally understood, that is gradually drawing Russia into the Western institutional orbit. For that there is neither particular demand on the part of Russia nor suffi cient supply on the part of the United States or NATO and the EU.5

Consequently these are trying times for those who want Russia fully to reclaim what Putin called its European vocation and Europe’s consequent reunifi cation. Indeed, as Trenin observes, Russia does not want to belong to a larger institutional grouping so to a very large degree this estrangement is a direct result of Russia’s domestic and foreign policy behavior.6

This is not to deny that Western, including US, policies have much to answer for. American unilateralism, particularly in Iraq, clearly undid the rapprochement of 2001–03. Western disunity concerning approaches to Russia and apathy or disinterest in Russian developments, such as the EU’s visible ambivalence about pushing Russia too hard on its anti-democratic and neo-imperial tendencies, for example Chechnya and the spread of violence to engulf the entire North Caucasus where 250,000 Russian security personnel are now stationed and where, despite the killing of Chechen leader Shamil Basayev, more troops are being sent, have all contributed to this situation.7 America’s and the EU’s reluctance to chal-lenge Russia’s anti-democratic policies (it is noteworthy that democracy was the last of the six aforementioned goals of the Administration) its fi xation upon the Middle East and terrorism, if not China, plus its inability or refusal to seri-ously address the many issues eroding transatlantic unity are also major causes for the lack of any coherent Western policy towards Russia or of any apparent interest in devising one.8 Indeed, in May 2005, Andrew Card, President Bush’s Chief of Staff said on nationwide television that “President Putin was building democracy!”9

Washington, as is often the case, prefers to seek Russian cooperation on outstanding security issues rather than push it on human rights issues, fearing that Russia will then cease cooperation with it on those seemingly more important or more urgent issues. In May 2005 Newsweek reported that the White House had decided not to pressure Russia over its own and the CIS’s democracy defi cit because America needed Russian support against Iranian and North Korean nuclear proliferation.10 Although there are now more divisions within US policy toward Russia, that view still appears to prevail in policy discussions.11 Newsweek’s report also reinforced widespread beliefs that pursuing purely strategic goals fundamentally contradicts a policy based on the invocation of values and second, that the only realistic policy towards Russia mandates that the pursuit of strategic goals should override the pursuit of Russian democratization. Defenders of this policy like Anatol Lieven of the Center for American Progress and John Hulsman of the Heritage Foundation call it realism.12

Ironically, this alleged realism towards Russia directly contradicts the Administration’s own stated policy to campaign for democratization throughout the world and formulate policies towards other states on the basis of their adherence

Is East–West integration possible? 163

to or deviation from a universal, even theologically ordained, norm of democratic governance.13 It also clashes with the EU’s stated goals in its Strategy for Russia of fostering the integration of a democratic Russia.14 While US policy clearly acknowledges and should acknowledge overall power realities as well as Russia’s power and importance, it also strikes many observers as a hypocritical double standard that undermines the entire democratization project. And despite rhetoric to the contrary, Russian and American observers know that America looks the other way.15 Worse yet, that policy also tolerates Russia’s violation of many international accords that it has signed since the Helsinki Treaty of 1975. If the doctrine that treaties must be obeyed is a cornerstone of international order, undermining it to gain short-term expedient interests, is deeply misguided as a policy precept and certainly against vital Western interests.

Certainly we cannot call this policy realism if it based on the deeply unrealistic notion that Russian domestic behavior is separate from its foreign policy behavior. For, “Whether the agenda is thick or thin, internal developments cannot be divorced for long from external behavior. What happens inside Russia impacts on the nature of Russia as a partner for the EU and the US.”16

Perhaps worst of all this supposed realism is visibly unrealistic as we have long known that East–West cooperation will be limited at best and that Russia opposes more than it supports US and European international goals. So silence in the face of democratization defi cits merely gains complicity in Russia’s regression, not the attainment of genuinely strategic goals. This fact calls into question the utility of a policy of silence concerning violation of the democratization agenda to which Russia has committed itself in international treaties and accords. In fact Russian policies are as much to blame if not more for the current estrangement as are Western ones. Russian analysts actually admit that Russia remains “a risk factor” in world politics, not a reliable or autonomous pole of world politics.17

This admission refl ects Moscow’s ongoing failure to build a stable, democratic, legitimate, and non-revisionist state.

Many recent Russian initiatives: arms sales to Syria, Iran, Venezuela, and China, providing nuclear reactors to Iran, supporting North Korea, attempts to undermine European security institutions, efforts to subvert Central and East European governments, and attacking Western military presence and support for democracy throughout the CIS signify a basically anti-American and anti-Western policy orientation.18 Russia’s participation in the war on terrorism is also rather less substantive than might otherwise be imagined. In 2001 FBI investigators alleged that Russian spy Robert Hanssen had sold or transmitted electronic software programs and equipment to Russia who then sold them to Bin Laden. This equipment let him monitor US efforts to track him down.19 Similarly, recent assessments have made a plausible case that Moscow has a direct link to Bin Laden’s number two man, Ayman Zawahiri, giving it a source of leverage at the very top of Al-Qaeda.20 Moscow has also frequently promised Central Asian states all kinds of military assistance against various terrorist groups like the Islamic Movement of Uzbekistan only to renege in practice and send little or nothing.21

Certainly it is not Russian troops who have fought against the Taliban. And there

164 S.J. Blank

are more than occasional reports of Russian gun running to the Taliban or of ex-KGB offi cers training terrorists in Iraq.22 Certainly the provision of weapons to Iran and Syria that then go to Hezbollah suggests a cynical willingness to exploit terrorism indirectly in pursuit of Russian ambitions.

We also know that throughout the war in Chechnya the Russian intelligence services have long collaborated with Chechen leaders accused of being terrorists. Elizabeth Fuller has argued compellingly that Russian intelligence agencies are controlling the war to the extent of frustrating the army in its search for Chechen leaders like Shamil Basayev who have committed acts of outright terrorism.23

Indeed Basayev, Russian claims to the contrary notwithstanding, was killed in 2006 by accident, not by Russian forces. Therefore those services have ulterior or at least mixed motives in waging this war. We also know from Fuller that this war has proven to be extremely lucrative for many members of the Russian bureaucracy and armed forces who possess carte blanche to rob the country blind and to appropriate for themselves funds earmarked in Moscow for Chechnya’s intended reconstruction or who are supported by bribes from Moscow’s puppet in Chechnya, Razman Kadyrov.24 In any case, since this war began largely as part of an internal coup d’état by the ruling party and Silovye Struktury (power structures) in Russia in 1999 to consolidate Putin’s rise to power as Boris Yeltsin’s heir, there is good reason to argue that Moscow’s war on terrorism has mainly been an instrument to serve larger or more private interests.25

Finally, in its foreign policies Moscow opposes labeling Syria and Iran as sponsors of terrorism and Hamas and Hizbollah as terrorists despite the overwhelming evidence to support those facts.26 In other cases, for example arms sales to China, Russia opposes European interests. Moscow benefi ts from the EU’s continuing sanctions on arms sales to China because otherwise European competition might ultimately erode Russia’s leverage on China’s defense capability. Thus Russia has tangible material reasons for looking to balance with China against Washington even though in fact integration with Europe, if not America, offers Russia more possibilities over time for genuine leverage upon China.

Russian policies and East–West estrangement

Washington’s failings aside, the more powerful cause of this growing East–West estrangement is that Russia’s retreat from democracy towards neo-Tsarism parallels or even drives its neo-imperial aspirations throughout the CIS.27 The conjuncture of these two trends represents a major and actual, not potential, threat to European security and not just because this regression to autocracy re-divides Europe along political and ideological lines that leads Russia to view current issues of world politics through the archaic or archaizing lens and retrogressive agenda of zero-sum games or spheres of infl uence, etcetera. In the Russian context, autocracy’s intrinsic logic and implications is itself at fault. Autocracy logically entails empire and a patrimonial concept of the state that is owned by the Tsar and can only survive by expansion and predation.28 But beyond that, just as autocracy means that the autocrat is not bound by or answerable to any institution or principle at home, in


foreign policy, just as often happened under the Tsars, Russia feels free not to be bound by its own prior treaties and agreements, for example its agreements to vacate its forces from Moldova and Georgia. This craving for unfettered power and status as a great, for even super power also manifests itself in incessant demands for a free hand and an exclusive sphere of infl uence in the CIS.29

Russia’s professed doctrine of multipolarity, postulating it as one of the great powers that demands in fact a status equal to both Washington and the EU as a whole in bilateral negotiations while also seeking to exploit its status as a state is fundamentally opposed to any concept of European security. Demanding an equal status with Washington and the EU, Russia refuses to be bound by its agreements with them. Its pursuit of wholly unconstrained foreign policies, particularly in the CIS, is not just a recipe for imperial expansion but is also dangerous. As Chechnya and the North Caucasus show us, this mentality, aligned to a lack of democratic control over the power structures, generates an endless institutional temptation for imperialism and military adventurism that quickly devolves into protracted war. Indeed, quite quickly after the collapse of the USSR Moscow has re-established foreign lodgments for its forces in every post-Soviet state except for the Baltic states. Concurrently across Eastern Europe, the Caucasus and Central Asia, Russia has used energy companies, intelligence penetration, organized crime, and military threats to undermine the stability and integrity of local regimes.30

In innumerable ways Russia also continues to wage an undeclared political and economic war against the Baltic states that shows its refusal to integrate into Europe.31 Russian politicians still refuse to admit that the USSR occupied the independent Baltic states after 1940.32 Moscow also seeks to compel its neighbors to institute pro-Russian cultural and educational policies based on its professed solicitude for the Russian diaspora. This concern for that diaspora has been invoked steadily over the last decade to undermine the security and legitimacy of the Baltic states even as it wages an economic war against them. Thus in 2002 Putin actually compared them to Macedonia and demanded that Europe supervise their minority policies, an explicit derogation of their sovereignty.33 After urging partnership with NATO and saying that he did not oppose the Baltic states’ membership in NATO, Putin publicly urged Russia’s residents to agitate against Baltic governments.34 In response Estonian Parliamentarian Marko Mihkelson, Deputy Chairman of the Parliament’s Foreign Affairs Committee observes that “If Moscow thinks that the occupation of the Baltic states did not exist there is no reason to believe that Russia belongs to the [Baltic] cultural space.”35 Indeed, that observation also holds true for the European political space. Neither is the Baltic a unique case. In Moldova too Russia has also played the diaspora card and subjected the region to what Moldova’s foreign and prime minister call a military occupation and humiliation that violates every European treaty Moscow has signed since 1975.36

Russian policies thus erode European security. Not only did Russia try to subvert Ukraine’s sovereignty and elections in 2004, it has clearly used both Ukraine and Belarus as middlemen for arms shipments to dubious end-users like, Iraq, Iran, and China. Kaliningrad and Russia’s proto-state in Moldova, Transnistria, are notorious havens of every kind of racket, including weapons and other smuggling. Belarus,

166 S.J. Blank

too, has long been a conduit of dual-use and purely military technologies and weapons to states like Iraq and Iran. Offi cial statistics say that Belarussian–Iraqi trade turnover in 1999 came to $6 million. According to Kommersant in 2000, the real fi gure was closer to $60 million.37

Similarly there has also occurred a complete fusion of crime and government reaching up to the highest levels of the regime and acknowledged by Putin.38

This corruption lies at the heart of much of Russian domestic and foreign policy and fuels the Chechen war as well as the vibrant drug and Kalashnikov culture in Central Asia, the Caucasus, and Black Sea. Indeed, in Russia corruption has become the system.39 In regard to energy deals abroad, the regime’s key strategic asset, we fi nd a total fusion of networks of former KGB, intelligence, and other Siloviki types, energy fi rms controlled, if not owned by the state, and outright gangsters and criminals.40 Understandably, these enmeshed networks of crime, governance, police, military, and business now strive to ensure that their policies and candidate/s prevail in 2008 and to preserve and entrench this system under the guise of a normal state. Nor is it likely this elite cannot solve its constitutional issues by means of some negotiated pact. Rather the threat if not the reality of violence and of repression is always present. Thus Russian policies threaten the progress of democracy in Eurasia and the security of European governments, includ ing its own, paradoxically making Russia’s own regime the main threat to internal security and stability. For example, due to its endemic misrule, Russian policy has now stimulated what can only be a protracted war in the North Caucasus, which could engulf even more of Russia for a long time.

Empire and autocracy

As Russian political scientist Egor Kholmogorov has observed, “‘Empire’ is the main category of any strategic political analysis in the Russian language. Whenever we start to ponder a full-scale, long-term construction of the Russian state, we begin to think of empire and in terms of empire. Russians are inherently imperialists.”41 Similarly, John Loewenhardt reported in 2000 that despite the fact that Russia’s alleged status as a leading pole in global affairs was then understood to be increasingly more rhetorical than real, “In one of our interviews a former member of the Presidential Administration said that the perception of Russia as a great power ‘is a basic element of the self-perception of high bureaucrats.’ If a political leader were to behave as if Russia was no longer a great power, there would be ‘a deeply rooted emotional reaction in the population.’”42

This outlook stimulates Russia’s refusal to integrate into Europe and subordinate itself to any rules or institutions. As Trenin stated above, Russia does not want to belong to a larger institutional grouping.43 As has often happened Russian reform foundered on the rock of empire and the demand of elites for the role of a great power, for example empire in Eurasia. “Much of the general rejection of the MFA’s (Ministry of Foreign Affairs-author) foreign policy direction on the former Soviet Union was caused by the general diffi culty in accepting the collapse of empire by the Imperialists and even some liberal-democrats.”44


Indeed, the stability of Russia’s political and economic structure depends quite literally on its continuing ability to exploit Central Asia and perpetuate its back-wardness through neo-colonial economic policies. From Russia’s standpoint it is essential to penetrate Central Asia’s energy economy because the latter’s oil is cheaper to extract than is Russia’s. Therefore Russia must capture those products for use in its domestic market at subsidized prices so that Moscow can compel Central Asia to sell to it at less than world market prices. Meanwhile, Russia can use its production for sale on the world market at global prices. The ensuing price manipulation is the source of enormous revenues that sustain the government and overall economy.45

Andrei Grozin, Head of the Department on Central Asia and Kazakhstan at Russia’s Institute for CIS countries, has frankly outlined Russia’s approach to energy issues with Central Asian states. In 2005 he told the Rosbalt news agency that:

For successful economic cooperation with Russia ‘in the nearest future Uz-bekistan will need to give up the system of state capitalism, in particular, by “shaking” servicing of expensive ore mining and energy industries off state shoulders.’ [Grozin] believes that if Gazprom obtains control over Uz-bekistan’s gas transporting system, Lukoil is granted free access to explora-tion and extraction of oil and Russia’s expansion into the nutrition and light industry sectors of the Uzbek market takes place, then one can say that the Russian state has received what it expected from the [Russo-Uzbek treaty of November, 2005] alliance treaty.46

Elsewhere Grozin admits that Russia’s neo-imperial policies are in many respects against economic logic although they make excellent geopolitical sense from an imperial perspective. Thus he writes:

The changes on the world market might force the Russian Federation to start importing uranium instead of exporting it. This may happen in the relatively near future. For this reason, the uranium of Kazakhstan and its products are of special interest for Russia, while bilateral cooperation in the atomic, space research, and other high tech applied spheres might pull all the other branches along with them. Russia does not profi t fi nancially from its relations with Kazakhstan, which have nothing to do with altruism: fi nancial input is accepted as payment for Russia’s geopolitical interests and national security. This is a long-term strategy that allows the Republic of Kazakhstan to adjust its nearly entire scientifi c and technical potential to Russia: Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan are two key Central Asian states. This strategy also applies to the military-technical sphere – Moscow sells its resources for “allied” prices not only to strengthen military and foreign policy contacts with Kazakhstan, but also tie it, for many years to come, to Russia’s military-industrial complex and standards.47

168 S.J. Blank

If Russia could not control Central Asian energy exports and production, it would have to use its own production for its domestic market and this would all but ensure failure to meet its overly large commitments to both Europe and Asia as well as an end to subsidized ineffi ciencies at home. And without those subsidies domestic industry would crash. As Mikhail Khodorkovsky, Yukos’ Chairman and CEO told the Carnegie Endowment in 2002, a key reason why Russian oil has a high cost is transportation costs and its most pressing needs are for liberalization and new markets. But the state will not let go of its control of pipelines and this will maintain the excessively high costs of Russian oil and deprive Russia of markets even as Russia has to “push aide” other producers by expanding its pipeline network to take their oil through its pipelines. Khodorkovsky also conceded that Caspian oil is indeed competition for Russian oil so if that energy goes onto markets before Russian energy capabilities are developed, the latter will not have room to compete. And given the importance of oil companies to Russia’s economics, it is urgent for them to restrict Central Asian production and infrastructure to mainly or even exclusively Russian channels lest their oil and gas become less competitive due to its own high cost and wasteful monopolistic structure and dilapidated infrastructure.48 This is by no means an isolated view. Vladimir Paramonov and Aleksey Strogov have observed that, “should energy prices in the domestic market reach the world level, it will spell the end for virtually all Russian enterprises. Even if world fuel prices remain high, fuel production will become uneconomic in Russia.”49

Central Asia’s abundant gas deposits, if marketed abroad, could restrict Russia’s ability to compete in world markets, in particular the surging Asian markets of India, Japan, China, and South Korea, for fossil fuels. Given the centrality of oil and gas to Russia’s economy, that would be a catastrophe. Thus, for Moscow it is essential that Putin’s proposals for an OPEC-like cartel over natural gas dominated by Moscow be realized and that Central Asia’s efforts to build infrastructure is limited to projects that are compatible only with Russia.50

Multipolarity and empire

Russia’s policy of multipolarity and anti-American balancing aims to secure Russia’s integrity and its role as undisputed hegemon of the CIS.51 Indeed, Russian elites profess to believe that Russia will fall apart otherwise.52 Several corollaries fl ow from this posture and they all negate cooperative solutions in the CIS and possibilities for cooperative security elsewhere in favor of openly hegemonic spheres of infl uence and zero-sum games, all within a context of traditional Realpolitik. Since 1996, if not earlier, many Russian scholars and offi cials have proposed endless variations upon the theme of a binary structure where NATO and the CIS, led by Washington and Moscow respectively, would constitute two equal pillars of Eurasian security.53 While Russia wants European bipolarity, it also insists upon a free hand in the CIS and a suspension of Western pressure for both democratization and European integration. This is a recipe for deadlock and confl ict not peace. For both China and Russia,


The emphasis on the United Nations Security Council, as well as statements such as ‘mutual respect, equality, and mutual benefi t’ and ‘the establishment of mutual understanding’, imply the desire for both states to have a veto over US unilateralism – something which would be unnecessary if power was more evenly distributed in the international system. In fact, the entire concept of multipolarity implies a virtual veto over the unilateralist impulses of any great power: other powers align against any aggressive power in an effort to pre-serve the status quo and to ensure that any major changes in the international system require consensus.54

Logically this should entail support for multipolarity in the CIS too but that is anathema to Russian rulers and elites. Thus the rhetoric of multipolarity conceals a disposition for empire and even coercive military interventions by Russia in the CIS. In other words, it betokens a return to frozen confl icts in world politics for as Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice has said:

Multipolarity was never a unifying idea. It represented a necessary evil and supported a condition without war, but it never contributed to the victory of peace. Multipolarity is a theory of competition, a theory of competing interests – and worse still – competing values.55

Moscow’s preferred foreign policy posture condemns Eurasia to the status of being Russia’s neo-colonial sphere of infl uence. Yet Russia cannot effectively police that sphere and even if it could do so the conditions necessary for accepting that outcome undermine any hope of stabilizing Europe or Eurasia. Russia defi nes its security as requiring its neighbors’ perpetual insecurity and unending vulnerability to failed state symptoms. But this also means their ongoing vulnerability to too many of the pathologies associated with terrorism, crime, proliferation, and ethnic war. Since peace does not protect itself, excessive complacency about European security is unwarranted. In fact, at least some governments and militaries reject this complacency even if they defend against their anxieties sotto voce.

Although never voiced publicly by elected European offi cials, there is concern about Russia. It is rarely announced as policy, but the force structure of the Bundeswehr – still, all these years after the end of the Cold War, organized to defend the homeland against tanks coming from the east – makes it obvious. In a way that frustrates and confounds its NATO partners, Germany still defacto prioritizes conventional territorial defense even if pledges allegiance to the Petersberg tasks which presume force projection capabilities.56

These apprehensions are well founded because the logic of Russian policy also requires the erosion of the capabilities of European security institutions and suspension of their pressure upon Russia to observe the many international agreements and conventions it has previously signed. Russia can only maintain a free hand in the CIS if Europe’s main security agencies are deterred from fulfi lling

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their missions and from ensuring that numerous international accords are fulfi lled. That is hardly an auspicious way to build the new Europe. Thus we can say that only if Russia is allowed to be an empire can autocracy succeed. Russian empire and European security are contradictions in terms. If the West wants to reintegrate a democratic Russia into itself and thereby restore Russia’s European vocation it must preclude the restoration of any form of Russian empire. The survival and/or restoration of autocracy and empire necessarily entails the insecurity and instability of great swathes of Europe and Asia. “The main reason why the West cannot remain complacent about Russia’s actions is the fact that Russia’s ‘near abroad’ is, in many cases, also democratic Europe’s near abroad.”57

Undoubtedly Russian goals entail empire, that is, the diminished sovereignty of neighboring CIS states. This strategic aim is inherently incompatible with genuinely improved EU–Russian or Russian–NATO relationships. Russian spokesmen argue that the West has no business or interest there, without its permission, or alternatively that America and Europe, in their own interest, should give Russia a sphere of infl uence there.58 In 2005 Foreign Minister Sergei Lavrov threatened supposedly “disloyal” CIS governments with the use of “every conceivable economic pressure tactics.”59 At the same time, Defense Minister Sergei Ivanov explicitly updated the Brezhnev doctrine’s concept of diminished sovereignty for Central Asian states. Thus, “The countries of the region are members of the Collective Security Treaty Organization (CSTO). And [if the countries of the region are] making a decision about hosting new bases on their territory, they should take into account the interests of Russia and coordinate this decision with our country.”60

Ivanov also said that these states should also take preliminary consultations with other members of the Shanghai Cooperation Organization (SCO). This represents an effort to include China as a power with rights of veto over these states’ defense policies and to tie up each local government by obliging it to seek collective permission to conduct an independent defense policy.61

On 15 September 2005 Ivanov further stated that if Georgia and/or Ukraine join NATO, Moscow will reassess its relations with them “and not just in the defense and security realm.”62 Numerous threatening statements to the same effect by him, Lavrov, and others have followed since then in an attempt to maintain the CIS, and particularly Ukraine, as an exclusive sphere of Russian infl uence. But worse yet, these threats have been followed up by actins, what high-ranking Ukrainian offi cials call “punishments,” to the extent that they believe Russia is waging a cold war against Ukraine.63 This belligerence marks a new tone for earlier he had he reiterated Moscow’s position that it viewed NATO bases in the Baltic as a threat (another sign of its unwillingness to accept Baltic freedom of action in defense and foreign policy) and that concern for Middle Eastern security did not justify a new US or NATO base in Georgia. But he then added that he accepted that some CIS countries might become NATO members by 2015 and that there is nothing we can do to stop Ukraine or Georgia from joining NATO “and perhaps there is no need for that,” because what they really want is to leverage membership in NATO in order to join the EU.64


Similarly Russian diplomats still cannot fully accept former Soviet republics as genuine states, for example diplomats at an Organization for Security and Co-operation in Europe (OSCE) meeting calling Georgia “some province.”65 Neither was this an accidental one-time affair. Instead it represents deeply held views in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.66 Therefore other parties’ acceptance of Russia’s demands for multipolarity and recognition as a pole in a new world order means conceding its right to defi ne an exclusive neo-imperial sphere of interest in the CIS even if that precludes genuine multipolarity with Europe. Furthermore, they must also understand that Russia is not a European power and will not abide by European “Acquis” as a participant in this multipolarity. Former Deputy Foreign Minister Ivan Ivanov told an American-European-Russian forum in 2002 that:

At the same time, Russia is a global and Eurasian power and obviously can-not concentrate its attention exclusively on Europe. Therefore, while stressing our European identify we prefer to have a free hand in our policy towards and cooperation with all regions, including Asia, the United States, and, above all the CIS. Thus our relations with the EU can be expected to be only con-tractual, and not institutional, i.e. involving membership or association. This is not a limitation, however, as a recent treaty such as the PCA (Partnership Cooperation Agreement-Author) still offers many untapped opportunities for cooperation – at least 64 of its norms still await implementation.67

Yuri Borko’s analysis of the clash between demands for a free hand in the CIS and for cooperation with Europe is even starker:

It is widely believed among Russia’s political, business, and intellectual circles that a policy toward integration with other members of the Commonwealth of Independent States (CIS) is incompatible with a policy toward a strategic partnership with the EU, toward integration into the Common European Eco-nomic Space and close coordination of foreign-policy and security activities. These circles will hardly cause the Russian president to give up his European policy, yet their efforts may prove enough for sinking the idea of concluding a new PCA (Partnership and cooperation Agreement).68

Indeed, many examples show that Russian foreign policy elites do not believe that Russia is either part of or thought of as part of Europe. Secretary of the Security Council, Igor Ivanov, calls Kaliningrad a bridge to Europe for Russia, implying that Russia is on the non-European side of the bridge and that Immanuel Kant’s hometown is also somehow not Europe.69 Arguably, the centrality of the CIS in Russian calculations overrides even the geopolitical and geo-economic neces-sity of Russia’s speediest possible reintegration into Europe. Indeed, it is now clear that “making a European choice” must ratify Europe’s (and Washington’s) ever-growing involvement in Russia’s internal affairs and an end to Russia’s neo-imperial designs on the CIS.70 Russian elites have therefore retreated from that choice even if doing so impedes creation of genuine multipolarity with Russia as

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a leading pole. And their policies in the borderlands show that instead they prefer to dominate the CIS even if that puts Eurasian stability as a whole at risk.71 Thus Moscow opposes any true stabilization of the European security system beyond the CIS while seeking to limit the losses to its imperial objectives. As Sergei Medvedev observed in 1999:

Damage limitation is a strategy that postpones Russia’s European engage-ment. Underlying this argument is a long-term strategic consideration aimed at the new European balance of the twenty-fi rst century. Russia, currently in a phase of geopolitical and economic decline, must prevent the fi xation of this unfavorable status quo by any treaty, agreement or security system. Russia is objectively interested in maintaining the current uncertain and unstructured security arrangement that took shape in Europe in the wake of the Cold War as long as possible – preferably until the economic upsurge in Russia expected by the middle of the next decade. Russia is therefore instinctively opposed to any institutional upgrade of European security, NATO enlarge-ment included; it would prefer to see European security not as an institution, but as an open-ended process (much like the former CSCE; hence the current impact of Moscow on the OSCE) and would like to dissolve it in various pan-European collective security proposals, reminiscent of old Soviet designs of the 1930s.72

Thus Russia’s goals remain consistent with its 1999 offi cial submission of its strategy for relations with the EU, made by then prime minister, Vladimir Putin, who stated that:

As a world power situated on two continents, Russia should retain its freedom to determine and implement its foreign and domestic policies, its status and advantages of a Euro-Asian state and largest country of the CIS. The ‘develop-ment of partnership with the EU should contribute to consolidating Russia’s role as the leading power in shaping a new system of interstate political and economic relations in the CIS area’ and thus, Russia would ‘oppose any at-tempts to hamper economic integration in the CIS’ [that may be made by the EU], including through “special relations” with individual CIS member states to the detriment of Russia’s interests.73

Therefore it is hardly surprising that there is so much tension and frustration in the high hopes for genuine integration in EU–Russian relations.74

The large literature on EU–Russian relations also shows that Russia refuses to integrate with the EU but rather to stand beside it while denying the EU opportunities to infl uence trends in the CIS.75 Russia also uses its energy assets and diplomacy to bypass the EU and gain better relations with individual European states that surpass its relations with the EU and NATO. These efforts to secure such bilateral ties, especially with Germany, and use them plus energy leverage to erode European support for Ukraine or democratization in the CIS undermine the EU’s


unity of purpose and policy toward Russia and arouse great resentment in Eastern Europe.76 Moscow’s current attacks on the OSCE, which actually began in 2000 once it became clear that the OSCE had become interested in democratic defi cits and Russian neo-imperialism in the CIS, also speak for themselves.77 Neither is Russia’s cooperation with NATO all that it seems.78 Indeed, it is often more rhetorical and tactical than strategic and real and certainly stops at the Russian border, another example of Russia seeking a free hand and spheres of infl uence.79

Therefore both NATO and the EU have taken a more active interest in these “borderlands” or what is now called Eastern Europe. They cannot do otherwise if they hope to realize the imperatives of their own security mission within Europe or to achieve their stated aim of a democratic Russia. Likewise, Moldova, Georgia, and Ukraine increasingly resent Russian efforts to dominate them and are pressing Western security institutions to settle these so called frozen confl icts, pressure Russia to cease its tactics, help reform their economies and polities so they can move toward the West, and create alternatives to Russian domination. Georgia has advanced its own peace plan for South Ossetia, and Ukraine has advanced its own peace plan for Moldova, won the support of the government in Chisinau in a clear effort to block Russian ambitions there, and taken major initiatives with Georgia to establish counter-blocs in the CIS to blunt Russia’s imperial drive. Moldova has appealed to the OSCE and other Western security organizations for an end to what even its pro-Moscow government has called Russian military occupation.80 Even if Russia prevents progress here this issue is becoming ever more urgent.81 Given the Black Sea’s rising importance in world politics, the pressure to move forward on confl ict resolution in these confl icts can only grow. Responding to this pressure and shaping a framework for confl ict resolution here is therefore most timely for Europe, America, and Russia.

Unblocking Eurasia’s frozen confl icts and prospects for cooperation

Nonetheless, there are opportunities for cooperation that could foster integration, but only over the middle to long term and on the basis of a unifi ed Western approach to Russia. But for success in this endeavor not only must Washington overcome the breakdown of its policy process, which has affl icted policy-making on Iraq, Korea, and myriad other issues besides Russia–Central Asian policy, for example – it must also adopt a unifi ed agenda for East–West relations with its European allies and the EU.82 And this unifi ed agenda must be comprehensive in scope – that is, it must apply to issues of defense, democratization, energy, etcetera. Time is of the essence because further inaction and disunity only strengthens Russia’s drift to autocracy and neo-imperial posturing which can only end in frustration and con-fl ict. Worse yet it allows for potential crises like those in Georgia’s relations with South Ossetia and Abkhazia and Ukraine’s diffi cult domestic situation to spin out of control.

Certain guidelines should illuminate what can and must be done to meet loom-ing security challenges and deal with urgent problems in a concrete way that benefi ts all parties. Given the overriding strategic dictum that frustrating Russian

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imperialism must inevitably generate pressure for domestic reform – the fundamen-tal strategic rationale of George Kennan’s containment strategy – Western regimes should unite behind proposals for assisting Westernizing states like Georgia, and Ukraine, and for simultaneously unblocking existing confl icts in the Black Sea and Caucasus by utilizing those trends that favor sound proposals for confl ict resolution there.83

Resolving any or all of these frozen confl icts is an essential prerequisite for peace and stability but also for democratizing the Caucasus and in Russia too. There are four reasons for regarding this as a Western priority. First, America and its European allies are formally and actually united as both the EU and NATO, as well as the OSCE, have already taken stands on them.84 Member governments and Western security organizations have enormous experience from a decade of immersion in Balkan issues in confronting the issues of reconstruction, ensuring minority rights, assisting democratization and promoting the transformation of irregular and uncontrolled militaries and paramilitaries into responsible democratically controlled forces. Since the Balkan situation has demonstrably improved, even if full resolution of its confl icts is still incomplete, the lessons of that experience, provided that local governments genuinely wish to integrate into NATO and the EU, show that meaningful progress towards the goals of peace, stability, democratization, and integration is possible.

Second, such an initiative offers Western security organizations a chance to actively participate in extending security to the increasingly vital Black Sea–Caucasus area, Europe’s new security frontier. NATO and/or the EU can lead the peace support operation while NATO can upgrade and extend its programs under the Partnership for Peace to develop stronger Membership Action Plans for local states. Such actions stabilize the peace and also create a mechanism for eliminating the scourge of paramilitaries and criminal gangs that dominate these confl icts and the territories surrounding them. Armies operating under more democratic and legitimate political leadership could gradually assume the primary role in pacifying formerly violent areas or areas at risk and in stabilizing a new status quo. The EU can also institute programs like those now operating in the Balkans which help participating states institute needed reforms and even draw closer to membership. Previous examples show that the prospect of genuine membership is decisive in inducing governments to cooperate in Westernizing reforms that extend security, democracy, and prosperity.85 Finally, the OSCE could supervise resolution of contentious democratization and human rights issues in disputed territories.

The third reason relates to Russia’s integration as a democratic genuinely peace-loving state into the Euro-Atlantic world, a process that also enhances Russian security. Russia can only be a secure democratic state that is fully integrated into Euro-Atlantic structures by repudiating the neo-imperial policies that have helped freeze these confl icts. Meanwhile, it is particularly important to create a military–political mechanism that lets Russia participate in confl ict resolution and protects its legitimate interests in these zones. This mechanism now exists thanks to two critical decisions in 2005 which show how obstacles to effective confl ict resolution can be overcome or at lest signifi cantly reduced by Western military–political action.


One such decision is Russia’s new readiness to form a brigade to work with NATO and be interoperable with it on international peace missions. Here inter-oper ability mainly means command of English, but it also provides an oppor tu nity to implement the jointly elaborated generic concept of peacekeeping.86 While this brigade is supposedly being optimized for service in South Ossetia, Abkhazia, and confl icts in and around Russia, nothing precludes its deployment elsewhere if suitable political and command arrangements can be negotiated.87

Nor does the fact that Russia, on the basis of that generic concept, would demand that in all operations led by the NRC that it and NATO co-decide issues at every stage of the operation including participation in operational planning.88

Such moves would also accept the implicit principle that partnership with Russia entails mutual equality but also prevent anyone from acting unilaterally.89 Since Russian leaders consistently espouse military cooperation with NATO along these and other lines, action based on this generic concept can advance that goal on the basis of the equality they both profess to seek.90 Ultimately, it can offer a unifi ed agenda for joint peace support missions with Russian forces and for pacifying these areas so that existing security threats do not migrate into Russia. Then Moscow might become more susceptible to Western persuasion.

Furthermore, the 2005 status of forces agreement between NATO and Russia removes legal obstacles to such operations, and makes it easier to organize them together.91 The opportunity to conduct combined missions with the Russian Army offers NATO an opportunity to infl uence it toward greater integration with Western armies, while also stimulating greater military professionalization and democratization of Russian civil–military relationships. The future deployment of this brigade also lets NATO alleviate Russian concerns for its interests in the resolution of any of these confl icts as Moscow could then legitimately participate in that process. The NATO umbrella over these operations would also reassure other parties to these confl icts that their interests were also being safeguarded. Formation and deployment of this interoperable force also represents a positive precedent for future such operations involving NATO and Russia in missions of interest to them both.

The second decision of 2005 was to combine US and NATO operations in Afghanistan into a single mission and force.92 By 2006, NATO had indeed taken command of this operation. Thus counterterrorism and peacekeeping forces and missions would be merged into a single command structure and provide a new template for future operations that are intended to prevent terrorism and support peaceful resolution of the war in Afghanistan. Obviously this decision also creates possibilities for future missions along the same lines that can be deployed to resolve hitherto frozen confl icts.

Although some European governments still resist committing their forces to what might become counter-terrorism operations and missions, creation of this US–NATO force, and its accompanying command and mission structure, represents a new departure in global peace support operations. It could create a new model for designating and deploying forces that can pre-empt the potential for instability in the CIS’s frozen confl icts while helping integrate Russia into European agendas

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and values. This is inherently a task for US leadership since it is clear that, left to its own devices, Europe cannot and will not act in a united fashion. Neither does it have enough forces to spare given its current military organization.93 Ultimately, Europe must shoulder the responsibilities of defending its new security frontier but it still cannot do so exclusively.

Because Russia’s current regime cannot and probably will not do this without continuous external pressure, not only must Western pressure for liberalization and democratization, on the basis of international standards and agreements continue and intensify, foreign policy initiatives to advance Western interests in the borderlands must also aim at rescuing Russia from itself. However, if Russia declines to participate in unfreezing these confl icts the West, led by the United States, should not take “no” or Russian stonewalling for an answer. Instead, in their own interests, Western states must keep up the pressure to terminate the prevailing state of siege that in the Black Sea basin. They must proceed toward this objective that enhances their security whether or not Russia wishes to join them and despite Russian objections and obstacles.

Accordingly, and this is the fourth reason why progress toward resolving these frozen confl icts is vital to the causes of democratization and security in Eurasia, nothing could be more false and misconceived than to argue that we must place the stability of Russia’s government above calls for democracy, an end to neo-imperialism abroad, and for an honest confrontation of all the former Soviet peoples and governments with their history. Privileging Russian stabil-ity above the prerequisites for Russian democratization ensures the instability of all of Russia’s neighbors and allows Russia to continue manipulating these confl icts. Worse, privileging the stability of the autocratic Putin regime over democratization perpetuates these confl icts by supporting corrupt, authoritarian, and sub-optimizing regimes in those zones and imperialism and autocracy in Russia. Paradoxically a policy that emphasizies stabilizing Russia above other considera-tions ensures the continuing instability of the entire post-Soviet periphery, including Russia.94

Indeed, the very idea that Russia can sustain an imperial posture throughout the CIS by freezing local confl icts is, at face value, preposterous. Although we see offi cials openly calling for that policy, they simultaneously concede that Moscow cannot afford it.95 Fortunately, at least some insightful Russian analysts increasingly recognize that Russia cannot cope with the Caucasus or Ukraine, or Central Asia by itself and needs outside help to resolve these confl icts.96

Similarly, we must help Russia understand that it pays a steadily rising price for pur suing an obstructionist but inherently futile policy of preserving this debased status quo and that it gains much more by participating in regional reconstruc-tion. Moscow cannot hunt with the hounds by supporting secessionism and ethnic violence in Moldova and the Trans-Caucasus and run with the hares by insisting upon its own inviolate sovereignty in Chechnya and the North Caucasus. More practically, the instability that Moscow’s actions around the Black Sea and the Caucasus have generated are decisive causes of Chechnya’s ongoing and spread-ing nightmare.97


These two decisions provide many of the political and operational prerequisites for successful confl ict resolution within the CIS. If the political will to build upon those decisions and to offer creative new initiatives that exploit these achievements and carry them further is present, then the possibilities for successful confl ict resolution in the CIS could then grow by an order of magnitude. And if Washington has not yet seen these problems and opportunities in the broader context portrayed here, reconsideration of the trends cited here might yet allow it to devise appropriate initiatives for a win-win solution for all the parties to any or all of these frozen confl icts. What we need now is both the political will to recognize the opportunity that stands before us, and the ability to shape the existing dimensions of that possibility into a concrete and mutually acceptable basis for action. If we fail to realize this opportunity, it may be a long and bitter time before we have another chance to create a durable system of security for resolving the CIS’s wars and confl icts.

Notes

1 Atlantic Council of the United States, The Twain Shall Meet (Washington, D.C., 2002), p. 2.

2 Ibid., passim. 3 Oksana Antonenko and Katherine Pinnick, eds, Russia and the European Union

(London and New York: Routledge and the IISS, 2005); Dov Lynch, ed., What Russia Sees, Chaillot Papers 74, (Paris: Institute for European Security Studies of the European Union, 2005); Andrew Monaghan, “A Sea Change and Its Undercurrents: Russian Perspectives of European Military Integration,” World Defence Systems, VIII, No. 1, 2005, pp. 67–8.

4 Conference remarks by Thomas Graham, of the National Security Council and Special Assistant to the President and Senior Director for Russian Affairs, at the American Enterprise Institute, 1 October 2005 (cited in Johnson’s Russia List, 17 October 2005, available at: http://www.cdi.org).

5 Dmitry Trenin, Reading Russia Right, Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, Policy Brief, No. 42, October 2005, p. 8.

6 Ibid. (italics in the original). This certainly is the line of nationalists like Alexei Pushkov, already in 2000, “Russia and the New World Order,” International Affairs, No. 6, 2000, p. 10.

7 Sarah E. Mendelson, Anatomy of Ambivalence: The International Community and Human Rights Abuse in the North Caucasus (Washington D.C.: Center for Strategic and International Studies, 2005); Maria Raquel Freire, “Matching Words with Actions: Russia, Chechnya and the OSCE – A Relationship Shrouded in Ambiguity,” UNISCIDiscussion Papers, No. 9, October 2005; Tuomas Forsberg and Graeme P. Herd, “The EU, Human Rights, and the Russo–Chechen Confl ict,” Political Science Quarterly,CXX, No. 3, Fall, 2005, pp. 472–8.

8 Ibid. Richard Wolffe and Eve Conant, “The Problem with Putin,” Newsweek, 9 May 2005, p. 49.

178 S.J. Blank

9 “Transcript for Meet the Press,” 1 May 2005, available at: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/7698687 [Accessed 13 August 2006].

10 Ibid. 11 Phillip Stephens, “The West Folds Before Putin’s Bluff,’ Financial Times, 18 July 2006,

retrieved from Lexis-Nexis; Jackson Diehl, “Crumbling Before Putin,” WashingtonPost, 19 June 2006, p. 21; Tom Raum, “Bush Softens Criticisms of Putin’s Steps To Curb Liberties,” AP, 11 July 2006; Pavel K. Baev, “Bush Downplays ‘Sovereign Democracy’ at Putin’s Barbecue,” Eurasia Daily Monitor, 17 July 2006; Natalia Melikova, “Making Them Respect Him,” Nezavisimaya Gazeta, 29 June 2006, retrieved from Lexis-Nexis; John B. Dunlop and Rajan Menon, “Chaos in the North Caucasus and Russia’s Future,” Survival, XLVIII, No. 2, Summer, 2006, p. 110; Vladimir Mukhin, “Moscow Is Increasing Its Military Presence in Chechnya,” Nezavisimaya Gazeta,5 June 2006, p. 3, cited in Current Digest of the Post-Soviet Press [henceforth CDPP],LVIII. No. 23, 5 July 2006, p. 13.

12 John C. Hulsman and Anatol Lieven, “The Ethics of Realism,” The National Interest,Summer, 2005, pp. 37–43.

13 “President Sworn-In to Second Term,” available at: http://www.whitehouse.gov/news/releases/2005/01/20050120-1.html

14 “Common Strategy of the European Union on Russia, Conclusions of the Cologne European Council,” 4 June 1999, available at: http://www.europa.int

15 Dmitri Sidorov, “Fuel Approval,” Kommersant, 17 October 2005, cited in Johnson’sRussia List No. 9269, 17 October 2005; Fred Hiatt, “Silent on Putin’s Slide: Bush Ignores Russia’s Fading Freedom,” Washington Post, 3 October 2005, available at: http://www.washingtonpost.com; “Closed-type Democracy,” available at: http://www.gazeta.ru, 6 October 2005, cited in Johnson’s Russia List, 6 October 2005, available at: http://www.cdi.org; Natalya Gevorkyan, “The Bottom Line,” Moscow, Kommersant, 17 October 2005 (Foreign Broadcast Information Service Daily Report: Central Eurasia[hereafter FBIS: Sov.], 17 October 2005); Moscow, Itar Tass, 21 November 2004 (FBIS: Sov., 21 November 2004).

16 Dov Lynch, “Same View, Different Realities: EU and US Policy Toward Russia,” Marcin Zaborowski, ed., Friends Again?: EU–US Relations After the Crisis (Paris: European Union Institute for Security Studies, 2006), p. 170.

17 Timofei Bordachev, “Russia’s Europe Dilemma: Democratic Partner vs. Authoritarian Satellite,” in Andrew Kuchins and Dmitri Trenin, eds, Russia: The Next Ten Years, A Collection of Essays to Mark Ten Years of the Carnegie Moscow Center (Moscow: Carnegie Center, 2004), p. 120.

18 Janusz Bugajski, Cold Peace: Russia’s New Imperialism (Washington, D.C.: Center for Strategic and International Studies, Praeger, 2004), passim; Keith C. Smith, RussianEnergy Politics in the Baltics, Poland, and the Ukraine: A New Stealth Imperialism?(Washington, D.C.: Center for Strategic and International Studies, 2004); Analysis: “Russia Hints It Favors DPRK Talks Position: Blames US for Deadlock,” FBIS: Sov.,29 July 2005; Stephen Blank, “Will Venezuela Send Russian Weapons to Terrorists,?” Eurasia Daily Monitor, 17 February 2005; Stephen Blank, “Bashear Assad Comes to Moscow, Seeking Gifts,” Eurasia Daily Monitor, 26 January 2005; Stephen Blank, “Making Sense of the Shanghai Cooperation Organization’s Astana Summit,” Central


Asia Caucasus analyst, 27 July 2005; Sergei Blagov, “Russia Eyes Stronger Clout in Caspian Region,” Eurasia Insight, 15 July 2005; “Iran, Russia To Sign Nuclear Fuel Deal Next Week for Bushehr Reactor, Iranian Offi cial Says,” accessible at: http://www.nti.org, 18 February 2005; Richard J. Krickus, “The Presidential Crisis in Lithuania: Its Roots and the Russian Factor,” remarks at the Woodrow Wilson Center, Washington, D.C., 28 January 2004, provided by the kind consent of Dr Krickus. See also Richard Krickus, Iron Troikas (Carlisle Barracks: Strategic Studies Institute of the US Army War College, 2006).

19 Jerry Seper, “Software Likely in Hands of Terrorist; FBI’s Hanssen Seen as Provider,” Washington Times, 14 June 2001.

20 Evgeni Novikov, “A Russian Agent at the Right Hand of Bin Laden,” Jamestown Foundation Terrorism Monitor, I, No. 9, 16 January 2004.

21 Stephen Blank, “An Ambivalent War: Russia’s War on Terrorism,” in Thomas R. Mockaitis and Paul B. Rich, eds, Grand Strategy in the War Against Terrorism (London: Frank Cass Publishers, 2003), pp. 127–50.

22 Owais Tohid, “Taliban Fighters Infi ltrating Back into Afghanistan from Pakistan,” Eurasia Insight, accessible at: http://www.eurasianet.org, 5 May 2003; A. Gizabi, “Sinking into the Afghan Swamp,” Jane's Terrorism and Security Monitor, 14 February 2003, accessible at: http://www4.janes.com/search97cgi/s97; Anthony Davis, “Afghan Security Deteriorates as Taliban Regroup,” Jane's Intelligence Review, 1 May 2003, accessible at: http://www4.janes.com/search97/cgis97; Scott Baladuf and Owais Tohid, “Taliban Appears To Be Regrouped and Well-founded,” Christian Science Monitor, 8 May 2003, accessible at: http://www.csmonitor.com/2003/0508p01s02-wosc; Baghdad,Al-Adalah, 22 July 2004 (FBIS: Sov., 22 July 2004).

23 Elizabeth Fuller, “What Lies Ahead in Chechnya,” In the National Interest, 14 January 2004.

24 Elizabeth Fuller, “Analysis: The Warlord and the Commissar,’ Eurasia Insight, 17 January 2005, accessible at: http://www.eurasianet.org.

25 Stephen Blank, “The 18th Brumaire of Vladimir Putin,” in Uri Ra’anan, ed., FlawedSuccession: Russia’s Power Transfer Crises, foreword by Robert Conquest (Lanham, MD: Lexington Books for Rowman and Littlefi eld, 2006), pp. 133–70.

26 Moscow, Interfax, 23 April 2004 (FBIS: Sov., 23 April 2004); Steven Lee Myers and Greg Myers, “Hamas Delegation Visits Moscow for a Crash Course in International Diplomacy 101,” New York Times, 4 March 2006, p. A6.

27 Trenin, see note 5, pp. 2–3; Steven Rosefi elde, Russia in the 21st Century: The Prodigal Superpower (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004); Stefan Hedlund, Russian Path Dependence (London; Routledge, 2005); Bugajski, see note 18, passim.

28 Ibid., Richard Pipes, Russia Under the Old Regime (New York: Scribner’s, 1975). 29 Henry Kissinger, Diplomacy (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1994), p. 152. More

recently we should take for example the 1999 agreement at the OSCE’s Istanbul conference in 1999 to remove troops from Moldova and Georgia, or the international accords it has signed relating to democratic practices in its domestic governance and civil–military relations. See Stephen Blank, “The Code and Civil–Military Relations: The Russian Case,” in Gert de Nooy, ed., Cooperative Security, the OSCE, and Its Code of Conduct (The Hague: Kluwer Law International, 1996), pp. 93–112.

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30 Bugajski, see note 18, passim; Krickus, “The Presidential Crisis in Lithuania: Its Roots and the Russian Factor” and Krickus, Iron Troikas, see note 18 for both.

31 Smith, see note 18, passim. 32 “Russian Politician Explains Refusal to Acknowledge Occupation of Estonia,” Postimees

website, Tallinn, 1 November 2005, BBC Monitoring, retrieved from Johnson’s Russia List, 7 November 2005.

33 Federal News Service, National Public Radio Interview and Listener Call-in with Russian President Vladimir Putin, National Public Radio, 15 November 2001, “Putin Says Russia Had a Good Year in National Call-in,” 24 December 2001, retrieved from Lexis-Nexis.

34 Ibid. 35 See note 32. 36 The Jamestown Monitor, 18 June 2000. 37 Kuwait, Al-Qabas (online edition), 16 July 2000 (FBIS: Sov., 16 July 2000); Kuwait,

Al-Qabas (online edition), 18 July 2000 (FBIS: Sov., 18 July 2000). 38 Moscow, RTR Russia, TV, 13 September 2004 (FBIS: Sov., 13 September 2004);

Bugajski, see note 18, passim; Krickus, Iron Troikas, see note 18. 39 Robert Bruce Ware, “The Caucasian Vortex,” Radio Free Europe Radio Liberty,

Newsline, 26 August 2004; Svante Cornell, “The Growing Threat of Transnational Crime,” in Dov Lynch, ed., The South Caucasus: A Challenge for the EU, ChaillotPapers, No. 65, 2003, pp. 23–40; and Svante E. Cornell, Roger N. McDermott, William O’Malley, Vladimir Socor and S. Frederick Starr, Regional Security in the South Caucasus: The Role of NATO (Washington, D.C.: Central Asia Caucasus Institute, Nitze School of Advanced International Studies, Johns Hopkins University, 2004), pp. 4–15; Dzhabrail Gakaev, “Chechnya in Russia and Russia in Chechnya,” in Richard Sakwa, ed., Chechnya: From Past to Future (London: Anthem Press, 2005), pp. 25–35.

40 Bugajski, see note 18; and Krickus, “The Presidential Crisis in Lithuania: Its Roots and the Russian Factor” and Krickus, Iron Troikas, see note 18 for both.

41 Quoted in Boris Rumer, “Central Asia: At the End of the Transition,” in Boris Rumer, ed., Central Asia At the End of Transition (Armonk, N.Y.: M. E. Sharpe & Co. Inc., 2005), p. 47.

42 John Loewenhardt, “Russia and Europe: Growing Apart Together,” Brown Journal of World Affairs, VII, No. 1, Winter–Spring, 2000, p. 171.

43 Trenin, see note 5, p. 8 (italics in the original). This certainly is the line of nationalists like Alexei Pushkov, already in 2000, “Russia and the New World Order,” InternationalAffairs, No. 6, 2000, p. 10.

44 Thomas Ambrosio, Challenging America’s Global Preeminence: Russia’s Quest for Multipolarity (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2005), p. 54.

45 Statement of Steven R. Mann, Principal Deputy Assistant Secretary of State for South and Central Asian Affairs Before the House Committee on International Relations, Subcommittee on the Middle East and Central Asia, 25 July 2006 [henceforth Mann, Testimony]; Zeyno Baran, “Assessing Energy and Security Issues in Central Asia,” Statement to the House Committee on International Relations, Subcommittee on the Middle East and Central Asia, 25 July 2006 [henceforth Baran, Testimony].


46 Almaty, Delovaya Nedelya (ionline edition)25 November 2005 (FBIS: Sov., 25 November 2005).

47 Andrei Grozin, “Influence of World Centers of Power on Kazakhstan and New Geopolitical Trends in Central Asia,” Central Asia and the Caucasus, No. 3 (39), 2006, p. 45.

48 Mikhail Khodorkovsky, “Stabilizing World Oil Markets: Russia’s Role in Global Recovery,” Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, 28 February 2002, accessible at: http://www.ceip.org/fi les/events.

49 Vladimir Paramonov and Aleksey Strogov, New Russia’s Strategic Choice: Regionalization Versus Globalization (Camberley, Surrey, UK: Conflict Studies Research Centre, 2004), p. 7.

50 Stephen Blank, “Russia’s Energy Sector Hides Weaknesses Behind Powerful Façade,” Eurasia Insight, 16 May 2006.

51 Robert Craig Nation, Beyond the Cold War: Change and Continuity in U.S.–Russian Relations (Carlisle Barracks, PA: Strategic Studies Institute, US Army War College, 1997), pp. 17–25.

52 AP, “Russia at Risk of Collapsing, Putin Says,” 18 April 2005, retrieved from Lexis-Nexis; “Interview with Chief of the Presidential Staff Dmitri Medvedev,” Ekspert Weekly, 5 April 2005, retrieved from Lexis-Nexis; “Vladislav Surkov’s Secret Speech: How Russia Should Fight International Conspiracy,” accessible at: http://www.mosnews.com, 12 July 2005; “Interview with Vladislav Surkov,” Moscow, Ekho Moskvy (FBIS:Sov., 29 September 2004).

53 This was the dominant theme of Russian presentations at the Biennial Conference of European Security Institutions, 22–24 January 1996, in Moscow. See also Sergei Rogov et al., Security Concerns of the New Russia, Vol. II (Alexandria VA: Center for Naval Analysis, 1995), p. 34, where this demand is made explicitly; and Lena Jonson, “In Search of a Doctrine: Russian Interventionism in Confl icts in Its ‘Near Abroad’,” LowIntensity Confl ict & Law Enforcement, V, No. 3, Winter, 1996, p. 447.

54 Ambrosio, see note 44, p. 82. 55 Cited in Konstantin Syroezhkin, “Russia: On the Path to Empire?,” in Rumer, see note

41, p. 123. 56 Mary Elise Sarotte, “Transatlantic Tension and Threat Perception,” Naval War College

Review, LVIII, No. 4, Autumn, 2005, p. 32. 57 John Roper and Peter Van Ham, “Redefi ning Russia’s Role in Europe,” in Vladimir

Baranovsky, ed., Russia and Europe: The Emerging Security Agenda (Oxford: Oxford University Press for SIPRI, 1997), p. 517.

58 S. I. Chernyavsky, “Washington’s Caucasus Strategy,” Mezhdunarodnaya Zhizn',January 1999, cited by Zbigniew Brzezinski, “Living with Russia,” The National Interest, No. 61, Fall, 2000, p. 9.

59 “Russia to Pressure Disloyal CIS Countries,” Nezavisimaya Gazeta, 13 October 2005, retrieved from Lexis-Nexis.

60 Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty, Newsline, from Radio Mayak, Moscow, 11 October 2005.

61 “Russian Minister’s Military Pact Comment Seen as Warning to Rice in Central Asia,” NTV, Mir, 11 October 2005, retrieved from Lexis-Nexis.

182 S.J. Blank

62 Anna Roze and Andrei Terekhov, “Sergei Ivanov Didn’t Say Anything Dramatic,” Nezavisimaya Gazeta, 15 September 2005, p. 5, cited in CDPP, LVII, No. 37, 12 October 2005, p. 13.

63 Conversations with Ukrainian offi cials, June 2006; Igor Torbakov, “Russia and the West Set to Clash over Ukraine,’ Eurasia Daily Monitor, 9 June 2006.

64 “Russia Will View NATO Bases in Baltics as a Threat – Defense Minister,” Interfax, AVN Military News Agency, Moscow, 10 June 2005.

65 Moscow, NTV, 2 July 2005 (FBIS: Sov., 2 July 2005). 66 Charles Clover, “Ukraine Looks East,” FT.com, 21 January 2001, accessible at: http://

www.ft.com; Charles Clover, “Kiev Warned on Neutral Policy,” Financial Times,12 July 2001, p. 2.

67 Ivan Ivanov, “The Twain Shall Meet,” p. 37. See note 1. 68 Yuri Borko, “Rethinking Russia–EU Relations,” Russia in Global Affairs, II, No. 3,

July–September 2004, p. 171. 69 Moscow, RIA Novosti, 30 June 2004 (FBIS: Sov., 30 June 2004). 70 James Sherr, “The Dual Enlargements and Ukraine,” in Anatol Lieven and Dmitri V.

Trenin, eds, Ambivalent Neighbors: The EU, NATO, and the Price of Membership(Washington, D.C.: Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, 2002), p. 120.

71 Bugajski, see note 18, passim; Krickus, Iron Troikas, see note 18. 72 Sergei Medvedev, “Power, Space, and Russian Foreign Policy,” in Ted Hopf, ed.,

Understandings of Russian Foreign Policy (University Park, PA: Penn State University Press, 1999), pp. 46–7.

73 Hannes Adomeit and Heidi Reisinger, Russia’s Role in Post-Soviet Territory: Decline of Military Power and Political Infl uence, Norwegian Institute for Defence Studies, Forsvarstudier No. 4, 2002, p. 5.

74 Antonenko and Pinnick, eds, see note 3, passim; Lynch, ed., see note 3, passim. 75 Ibid. 76 Ibid., and also for example the discussion in the 129th Bergedorf Round Table, Frontiers

and Horizons of the EU: The New Neighbors Ukraine, Belarus, and Moldova, 15–17 October 2004, LVIV, pp. 80–8.

77 Moscow, Itar Tass, 19 July 2000 (FBIS: Sov., 19 July 2000); Dmitry Danilov, “Russia and European Security,” in Dov Lynch, ed., What Russia Sees, Chaillot Paper, No. 74, pp. 91–5; Moscow, Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Transcript of Remarks and Replies to Media Questions by Russian Foreign Minister Sergei Lavrov Following the Russia–NATO Council Session, Brussels, 9 December 2004 (FBIS: Sov., 9 December 2004).

78 Stephen Blank, The NATO–Russia Relationship: Troubled Partnership or Marriage of Convenience (Carlisle Barracks, PA: Strategic Studies Research Centre Carlisle Barracks, 2006).

79 Danilov, see note 77, pp. 80–6; Centre for Eastern Studies (Warsaw), NATO’s New Role in the NIS Area (Warsaw: Centre for Eastern Studies, 2005), pp. 34–43.

80 Vladimir Socor, “Moldova Decries ‘Russian Occupation,’ Draws Mixed Western Response,” Eurasia Daily Monitor, 3 December 2004, and Idem, “Russia Proves OSCE’s Irrelevance on Moldova at Year-end Meeting,” Eurasia Daily Monitor, 14 December 2004.

81 “NATO and EU to Discuss Transnistrian Confl ict,” Russia Journal, 6 June 2005, accessible at: http://www.russiajournal.ru/news/cnewswire.shtml?nw=48303;


“Vladimir Voronin Had a Phone Conversation With Piotr Poroshenko, the author of the Ukrainian Plan for Transnistrian Settlement,” Moldova Azi, 27 June 2005, accessible at: http://www.azi.md/news?ID=34792; “Russia is Worried About Chisinau Parliament Statement,” Moldova Azi, 13 June 2005, accessible at: http://www.azi.md/news?ID=34610; Lyudmilla Feliksova, “Waiting for Miracle,” Moscow, RossiyskayaGazeta, 15 June 2004 (FBIS: Sov., 15 June 2004).

82 Conversations with US offi cials in Washington, 2005–06. These conversations were with members of the Department of Defense, Department of State and the National Security Council; Ron Susskind, The One-Percent Solution: Deep Inside America’s Pursuit of Its Enemies Since 9/11 (New York: Simon & Schuster, 2006), pp. 224–8, 307–8; Peter Baker, “Russian Relations Under Scrutiny,” Washington Post, 26 February 2006, p. 1; John Vinocur, “Putin’s Brazen Moves Force Bush to Recalibrate,” International Herald Tribune, 27 February 2006, p. 2, retrieved from Lexis-Nexis; “Russia: Friend or Foe of the USA,?,” Pravda.ru, 27 February 2006, from Johnson’s Russia List, 27 February 2006, available at: http:// www.cdi.org; on Korea, see C. Kenneth Quinones, “Dualism in the Bush Administration’s North Korea Policy,” Asian Perspective, XXVII, No. 1, 2003, pp. 197–224; David Ignatius, “A CEO’s Weaknesses,” Washington Post Weekly,12–18 September 2005, p. 27; Karin Lee and Adam Miles, “North Korea on Capitol Hill,” Asian Perspective, XXVIII, No. 4, 2004, pp. 185–207; Robert M. Hathaway and Jordan Tama, “The U.S. Congress and North Korea during the Clinton Years,” Asian Survey, XLIV, No. 5, September–October 2004, pp. 711–33; David E. Sanger, “Aftereffects: Nuclear Standoff, Administration Divided Over North Korea,” New York Times, 21 April 2003, p. 15; David Ronnie, “Rumsfeld Calls for Regime Change in North Korea,” Daily Telegraph, 22 April 2003; Gordon Furlough, “Talks Display U.S. Rift on Pyongyang,” Wall Street Journal, 28 June 2004, p. 9; Bill Gertz, “USA Considers Reactor Deal with North Korea,” Washington Times, 19 May 2004, cited by Aidan Foster-Carter, “Pyongyang Watch: Six-Party Glacier: Did the US Melt,?,” AsiaTimes (online edition), 28 June 2004, accessible at: http://www.atimes.com; and the author can attest to those policy divisions on Central Asia from his conversations with US offi cials from the Department of State, Defense, and the National Security Council over the period from May 2005 to the present. See also “The Pentagon’s Mission Creep,” Jane’s Foreign Report, 1 June 2006, accessible at: http://www.4janes.com/subscribe frp/doc_view.jsp?K2 DocKey=/content1/janesdat/mags.

83 Stephen Blank, “A Framework for Unfreezing Eurasia’s Confl icts,” RUSI Journal, CL, No. 4, August 2005, pp. 50–5; and idem., “Security in and Around the Black Sea: Is a Virtuous Circle Now Possible?,” Mediterranean Quarterly, XVI, No. 2, Summer, 2005, pp. 44–66.

84 Michael Ruhle, “Quo Vadis NATO?,” NATO’s Sixteen Nations, No. 5, 2004, pp. 14–20; Mustafa Aydin, Europe’s Next Shore: The Black Sea Region After EU Enlargement,Occasional Paper of the European Union Institute for Security Studies and Defense, No. 53, 2004, p. 15; Istanbul Summit Communiqué, issued by the Heads of State and Government participating in the meeting of the North Atlantic Council, Istanbul, 28–29 June 2004, accessible at: http://www.Nato.int/docu/pr/2004/p04-096e.htm [henceforth Istanbul Initiative]; “Georgia, Azerbaijan, and Armenia Included in the European Neighborhood Policy,” accessible at: http://www.welcomeeurope.com/news,

184 S.J. Blank

5 July 2004; Ahto Lobjaskas, “Azerbaijan: EU Keen To Get Involved in Nagorno-Karabakh Peace Process,” Eurasia Insight, accessible at: http://www.eurasianet.org, 18 May 2004.

85 Stephen Blank,”Security and Democracy in the Black Sea Basin,” Insight Turkey, VII, No. 1, January–March, 2005, pp. 108–17.

86 Centre for Eastern Studies (Warsaw), see note 79. 87 Ibid., Agentstvo Voyennykh Novostei, Internet, 26 April 2004 (FBIS: Sov., 26 April

2004); Sergei Ivanov, “Strong Russia” (FBIS: Sov., 27 November 2003); FBIS report,“Russia: Profi le of 15th Peacekeeping Brigade,” 17 February 2005; Moscow, “Russia Prepares to Play Proactive Peacekeeping Role,” RIA Novosti, 26 April 2005, retrieved from Lexis-Nexis; Interfax, AVN Military News Agency website, Moscow, in English, 10 October 2003, retrieved from Lexis-Nexis.

88 See note 79, p. 38. 89 See note 1, passim. 90 Ibid; “NATO–Russia Action Plan on Terrorism,” Brussels, NATO HQ, 9 December

2004, accessible at: http://www.nato.int/docu/basictxt/b041209a-e.htm; “Russia Eager To Boost Partnership with NATO,’ Russia Journal, 24 June 2005, accessible at: http://www.russiajournal.ru/news/cnews-article.shtml?nd=48408; “Beginning of Meeting with NATO Secretary General, Jaap de Hoop Scheffer,” accessible at: http://www.president.kremlin.ru/eng/text/speeches/2005, 24 June 2005.

91 “Agreement Among the States Parties to the North Atlantic Treaty and the Other States Participating in the Partnership for Peace Regarding the Status of Their Forces,” 19 June 2005, accessible at: http://www.nato.int/docu/basictxt/b95016a.htm

92 “Press Conference by NATO Secretary General, Jaap de Hoop Scheffer, Following the Informal Meeting of Defence Ministers,” Nice, 10 February 2005, accessible at: http://www.nato.int/docu/speech/2005/s050210e.htm; Diego A. Ruiz Palmer, “Afghanistan’s Transformational Challenge,” NATO Review, Summer, 2005, accessible at: http://www.nato.int/docu/review/2005/issue2/english/art2_pr.html.

93 As the recent votes against a European constitution and the collapse of an EU meeting on budget defi cits in member countries strongly suggest, a common foreign and security policy has yet to be devised.

94 Vladislav Inozemtsev and Sergei Karaganov, “Imperialism of the Fittest,” The National Interest, No. 80, Summer, 2005, pp. 74–80; Alexander Y. Skakov, “Russia’s Role in the South Caucasus,” Helsinki Monitor, No. 2, 2005, pp. 120–6.

95 Moscow, Rossiyskaya Gazeta, “Interview with Sergei Ivanov,” 4 May 2004 (FBIS: Sov., 4 May 2005).

96 A. Iurin, “Pragmatism of the ‘Most Diffi cult Meeting,’” International Affairs (Moscow), No. 3, 2005, p. 59, Moscow, Rossiyskaya Gazeta, “Interview with Sergei Ivanov,” 4 May 2005 (FBIS: Sov., 4 May 2005).

97 Igor Korolkov, “Russia Fears New Type of Ethnic Confl ict in Chechnya,” www.mosnews.com, 24 June 2005, accessible at: http://www.mosnews.com/commentary/2005/06/24/borozdnikovka.shtml; Oliver Bullough, “Russian Reform Pushes Caucasus to the Brink,” Reuters and www.mosnews.com, 23 June 2005, accessible at: http://www.mosnews.com/feature/2005/06/23/caucasus.shtml.

ConclusionTendencies and prospects for security and democracy

Aurel Braun

Considerable fl uidity characterizes Russian domestic and foreign developments, NATO–Russia relations, and NATO’s policy (and declared goal) of enlarging the zone of democracy. There is no defi ned path that can be projected forward with confi dence, the interaction of the multiple variables reinforces uncertainty, and recent events point to growing diffi culties in NATO–Russia relations in the twenty-fi rst century. Though it is worthwhile, I believe, to highlight some crucial tendencies, it would be considerably more important to suggest vital questions that we should focus on rather than just try to discern short term answers. Such questions should include the following. What are some of the key domestic developments in Russia that may drive its current and future foreign policy? What is the nature of the interaction of domestic and foreign variables in Russia? What is the developing Russian world vision, particularly when it comes to its national security that in turn would shape its relations with NATO? Are apparent Russian attempts to divide NATO part of short-term tactical moves or do they represent a long-term petro-diplomacy approach that points to a fundamental incompatibility with the interests of the democratic NATO members? Are Russian policies in the Middle East, for instance, a refl ection of the latter? And fi nally, is NATO as an organization able to maintain a viable identity and create coherent policies that can offer current and new members security as well as suffi cient reassurance to Russia so that the latter encourages domestic democratic progress and helps enhance trust and security within the vast Vancouver to Vladivostok zone?

Russian domestic developments and an evolving worldvision

It would be diffi cult, it seems, to separate growing Russian assertiveness interna-tionally from domestic changes. As Romania and Bulgaria became EU members in January 2007 and democracy, with that additional external integrative mechanism, is further enhanced and entrenched in these two states, Russia, domestically, con tinues to move in the opposite direction. In fact, as Russia proceeds toward legislative and presidential elections, we have witnessed a continuing centralization of both politics and economics that not only point to a move away from democracy, but appear to be part of a domestic mobilization effort designed to underpin grow-ing Russian foreign policy ambitions.

186 A. Braun

Several developments that would be hard to ignore, in fact, suggest a Russian move away from democratization. Whether it is the brazen murder of infl uential journalist and relentless Kremlin critic, Anna Politkovskaya, in Moscow in October 2006, the suspension of numerous foreign private organizations concerned with human rights under a new legislation law and the growing pressure on the vast number of civil society organizations in Russia,1 the complete control by President Putin of the governors or presidents of Russia’s 88 regions as well as of the compliant local legislative assemblies,2 or the willingness if the Kremlin to coerce (success-fully) some of the largest international companies, including Royal Dutch Shell, to cede control of the world’s largest combined oil and natural gas project to Russian state energy company, Gazprom,3 these all should raise questions not only about domestic authoritarian tendencies but also about linkages to foreign policy goals.

For advocates of democracy in Russia, developments and tendencies are indeed ever more disturbing. For instance, the raising of the threshold to win seats in the Duma from 5 to 7 percent will make it signifi cantly more diffi cult for democratic opposition parties to win seats in the next election for the Duma and will very likely reinforce the domination of Kremlin’s ultra loyal United Russia, supported by some faux opposition parties in the style of old “front” government of the early communist era in Eastern Europe.4 With the Kremlin’s almost complete control of television, from which most Russians get their news, with President Putin auditioning his potential successors, and with his promise that even after he leaves the presidency in 2008 he would continue to “infl uence the life in our country,”5 it is fairly clear that Russia is taking a different path from the post-communist states (and now, NATO members) in Eastern Europe.

The Kremlin’s confi dence in domestic political and economic control is congruent with its new international assertiveness. It is not only that internationally Russia is more vocal in protecting its national interest, or that buoyed by greatly increased oil revenues, a rapidly growing economy, and vast foreign currency reserves, it is more willing to voice its differences with its smaller neighbors, NATO, or the US. Rather, what is increasingly more perceptible is a Russian belief that, to use an old Soviet term, “the correlation of forces” is moving decisively in its favor. In fact, Foreign Minister Sergei Lavrov asserted in March 2007 that Washington’s role in the world is “shrinking” as “new centers of power” are emerging6 – with Russia presumably being one of these new centers. A month earlier, it should be noted, President Putin launched his strongest attack to date on the US when he declared before a security forum in Munich, Germany that the US was making “… an almost uncontained hyper use of force in international relations” and that it had “… overstepped its national borders in every way.”7 In the same speech, Putin also expressed strong Russian concerns both about American plans to build a missile defense system in Poland and the Czech Republic, and about further expansion of NATO.8

Moreover, his attempts to divert the US from deploying a missile defense system in Poland and the Czech Republic through a series of alternate site proposals, all in Commonwealth in Independent States or in Russia proper,9 was much more likely to annoy and alienate Washington than suade it.

Conclusion 187

These public declarations by President Putin, moreover, have not been mere rhetoric directed at impressing a domestic audience. Though increased domestic centralization and authoritarianism may well be linked with foreign policy assertiveness, the Putin government is making strong efforts to provide real power backing to Russia’s international goals. In February 2007 President Putin laid out a vision for a greatly enhanced Russian international presence and in the next month his outgoing defense minister and newly appointed fi rst deputy prime minister, Sergei Ivanov, outlined a vast Russian rearmament program for the next decade.10 Ivanov indicated that in 2007 the defense budget was scheduled to reach $31.6 billion (US), a fourfold increase from 2002, and that together with security and law-enforcement agencies, the total allocation would reach $58 billion.11 He further projected that by 2017 Russia will spend $200 billion on defense, with half going for the procurement of advanced weapons.12

In February 2007 he announced an eight-year plan to spend $189 billion on defense that would include new intercontinental ballistic missiles, aircraft carriers and early warning radar systems.13 And in June, Ivanov declared that Russia intended to rebuild the Soviet-era naval power and would set up a new state-run corporation to construct civilian and naval vessels.14

It is also noteworthy that in March 2007 the Russian Security Council announced that Russia will be revising its military doctrine in order to address the “strengthening of military blocs, especially NATO.”15 Further, the Russian military wants to incorporate a statement that American efforts, “to push Russia away from the post-Soviet space poses a threat to Russia’s national security.”16 This goes specifi cally to the fears that Russia has about continuing NATO enlargement, but also may well be a refl ection of Moscow’s intentions to dominate, if not control, the former Soviet space and especially countries such as Ukraine and Georgia who have expressed an interest in eventually joining the Alliance. Therefore, Moscow wants to keep NATO out of this space and perhaps even weaken NATO itself, as a way to guarantee a free hand for itself and to further shift the correlation of forces in its favor.

Divide and weaken?

Moscow, in addition to NATO enlargement, is also strongly concerned about the prospect of the possible deployment of American missile defense systems in two NATO states, the Czech Republic and Poland. Although it is extremely diffi cult to see how these “thin” missile defenses, intended to intercept potential attacks from “rogue states” could possibly block the massive nuclear arsenal that Russia has, and especially the advanced attack systems that it is developing, Moscow may also be using the plans for such deployment as a means of intimidating some NATO members, dividing the Alliance, and ultimately, also blocking further enlargement.

Some of the Russian response has consisted of crude pressures and threats. For instance, in February 2007, after the Czech Republic and Poland expressed their willingness to host part of the American missile-defense system, General Nikolai

188 A. Braun

Solovtsov, the commander of Russia’s Strategic Missile Forces, warned the two NATO members that allowing the US deployment could make them targets of a Russian missile strike.17 In July 2007, Sergei Ivanov, speaking as fi rst deputy minister, basically threatened that if the US did not accept President Putin’s alternate proposals to deploying an American anti-missile shield in Eastern Europe, Moscow would deploy missiles in Kaliningrad, on the borders of Lithuania and Poland.18 Other Russian efforts have been more subtle. For instance, Sergei Lavrov accused the US of being “disrespectful” to its NATO partners by engaging in bilateral negotiations with Poland and the Czech Republic for the deployment of a missile-defense system.19 It would be diffi cult though, to miss the innuendo.

Russian attempts to separate or isolate East European allies from western NATO members, in fact, seems to be bearing some fruit. By claiming American unilateralism and disrespect, using petro-diplomacy as West European states, and particularly Germany, become more dependent on Russian energy supplies, and by stressing differences in perceived threats among European NATO members, Moscow is seeing its arguments resonate even with governments that seek to strengthen relations with the US, such as that of Angela Merkel. In March 2007, for instance, she expressed her wish that the two NATO states planning to host the anti-missile system should try to resolve matters within NATO and that she would like to see open discussions about it with Russia.20 The German government and others in Western Europe have become particularly sensitive to Russian claims that the deployment would create mistrust between NATO and Russia.

By contrast, fears among Eastern European and Baltic states about Russia’s retrenchment from democratization, its increased militarization, and ever greater use of petro-diplomacy pressure on neighbours, make these allies want to place themselves closer to the US in terms of hard security guarantees, thereby widening the rift within the Alliance. Estonia’s former ambassador to Russia, using Donald Rumsfeld’s (former US Secretary of Defense) terms, in April 2007 identifi ed a division between “old Europe” and “new Europe” when it came to Russia, deplored the lack of unity in confronting what he viewed as a threatening Russia, and urged “new Europe” to forge closer strategic ties with the US.21 Lech Kaczynski, in July 2007, not only characterized Russia’s withdrawal from the Conventional Armed Forces in Europe (CFE) treaty as a “threat” to Europe but reached an agreement on the placement of the US missile defense system in Poland.22 It is therefore, again worth asking whether Russia merely aims to block deployment of the anti-missile shield in the Czech Republic and Poland, or whether its ambitions go further to undermining the Alliance as a whole.

Petro-diplomacy and outfl anking NATO

There are certain indicators that suggest that Russia’s regional ambitions are growing significantly and somewhat alarmingly. Perhaps these are part of a strongly assertive Russian world vision that has important domestic and foreign policy implications. Lilia Shevtsova from the Carnegie Moscow Center, for instance, has argued rather persuasively that behind Russia’s “new national idea,”

Conclusion 189

there is something rather troubling.23 She contends that “anti-Western ideology has become an important factor that legitimizes the highly centralized state.”24 Putin, moreover, gave further voice to Russian international assertiveness in July 2007 when he not only endorsed the Russian deep seabed mission of a week earlier (which had planted a Russian titanium fl ag below the North Pole), but declared that the mission should be central to Russia’s contested claim to an enormous 1.2 million square kilometres of potentially energy rich Arctic seabed.25

Its use of petro-diplomacy, backed up with sanctions against Ukraine, Georgia, and even against a client state like Belarus,26 shows that Moscow has not hesitated to use energy, and even the suspension of travel and postal services, as a way to bring states within the former Soviet space to heel. Russia has also worked to preserve the CIS, despite Georgian, Ukrainian and Moldovan questions about the organization’s relevance. For instance, the Putin government held a meeting in November 2006 to coincide with the NATO summit in Riga, Latvia. Then Russian minister of defense, Sergei Ivanov, argued that in fact new areas of cooperation were being developed.27

Further, Moscow has moved to strengthen its position in organizations where its vast energy resources give it an advantage, including the Organization for Democracy and Economic Development, GUAM, and the Shanghai Cooperation Organization (SCO).28 The SCO, where China is the other major partner, has proven especially useful in light of Russian energy supplies to its neighbour and the desire by both states to undercut, or at least, to become counterweights to American global power.

It is in the Middle East though that in certain respects Moscow has tried to outfl ank NATO most assiduously. The Kremlin has gone beyond mere criticism of American involvement in Iraq (and of NATO in Afghanistan). Moscow has acted in certain ways as a key protector of Iran. The Putin government has not only repeatedly undercut American and NATO efforts to impose sanctions on Tehran, but has sold the latter vast quantities of some of the most modern weapons, including TOR-M1 anti-aircraft batteries.29 Moscow has also engaged in intelligence cooperation with Tehran30 and has expressed an interest in cooperating with Iran in controlling the international trade in natural gas. Russia has also supplied Syria with highly advanced weapons (some of which were then transferred to Hezbollah) and it has an intelligence agreement with Damascus.31 Moscow has continued to sell very large quantities of advanced weapons to Syria (and Iran), claiming that these are merely “defensive.”32

True, Russian hesitation about completing the nuclear reactor that it has been building in Iran at Bushehr creates some ambiguity as to Russian plans in the Middle East,33 but its overall efforts over the past few years bear a closer resemblance to old Soviet goals in the Middle East than to the more restricted aims of creating some counterbalance to the US and of achieving greater commercial gain. If in fact the changes in Russian foreign policy are aimed at undermining both the US and NATO, then the prospects for security cooperation could well be endangered, and particularly so if NATO itself is divided and ceases to be resilient.

190 A. Braun

Can NATO maintain its cohesion?

Despite the Alliance’s remarkable longevity and impressive ability to adapt there are signs that NATO could be vulnerable to Russian pressures. Further, in light of Alliance diffi culties, if Moscow is truly intent on undermining it, the Kremlin’s prospects of doing so, may grow. First, efforts to build effective cooperation between NATO and the EU that could make the former more resilient are faltering. “Berlin Plus,” the 2003 agreement that was meant to define how and when European countries could employ NATO assets for EU purposes, is not working out well either in Kosovo or in Afghanistan – the two best testing grounds.34 Some NATO allies, moreover, such as France, view NATO as an American tool and do not seem to mind working with Russia to undermine the Alliance though this may change somewhat with the new pro-American president, Nicolas Sarkozy.

Second, there are signifi cant differences in threat perception, as noted, where the eastern Alliance members, geographically close to Russia, are deeply concerned about Moscow’s intentions, would like to see Ukraine and Georgia in NATO as soon as possible, and defi nitely want to have hard security guarantees from the US within the Alliance. By contrast, as the Western Europeans become increasingly dependent on Russian energy supplies, as Moscow continues to bypass Eastern Europe with undersea oil and natural gas pipelines, the divisions on how to best cooperate with Russia and how to create region-wide security are only likely to grow, unless there are drastic changes in West European perceptions and/or in Russian domestic and foreign policies. It is true, though, that NATO as a whole voiced its strong disapproval of Moscow’s decision to withdraw (nominally a “moratorium”) from the CFE.35

Third, even in areas where there is strong military cooperation among Alliance members, as in Afghanistan, there are important differences in the levels of allied member commitment that are creating signifi cant strains.36 For example, multiple restrictions on what their forces are allowed to do in Afghanistan by several European states have not only caused considerable Alliance friction but have considerably imperiled the effectiveness of the mission. If Afghanistan was meant to be the successful demonstration of NATO Out-of-Area operations, its possible failure (never mind the grave consequences in Afghanistan itself and in the Middle East of seeing Taliban prevail) would be a terrible blow to NATO’s credibility. It would certainly embolden those elements within the Russian security services and the military that harbor fantasies of a return to superpower status, and especially at the expense of the Alliance.

Where do Russia and the Alliance go from here? The growing frictions between the two and Russia’s authoritarian turn and international assertiveness do not negate the fact that both sides can still gain tremendously from cooperation, whether in the fi ght against terrorism or in economic development. Nonetheless, the growing divisions cannot be ignored and it would be imprudent to try to paper over differences. Some cooperation, of course, is always possible, but the building of lasting regional security requires the fostering a strong commonality of interests.

Russia’s increasing authoritarian turn, aggressive petro-diplomacy, and apparent

Conclusion 191

efforts to undermine, or at least, to render less effective a vulnerable alliance, then, does not bode well. Still, it may be premature to claim that there are clear or irreversible trends in Russian domestic or foreign policies. Russia’s oil-based economy and energy-fueled foreign policy are themselves vulnerable and Moscow could change direction and become far more comfortable with Alliance goals of democratization and security. NATO could also conceivably become more cohesive and resilient. So far though, the questions that I raised earlier continue to nag or, at the very least, should continue to govern our assessment of developments and prospects. Even if for the present we cannot fi nd solutions, asking the right questions would at least give the Alliance and Russia a better long-term chance to address the key concerns and improve the prospects for creating a sustainable zone of security.

Notes

1 C.J. Chivers, “Russia Suspends Scores of Foreign Groups,” New York Times, 19 October 2006 [Accessible at: http://www.nytimes.com/2006/10/19/world/europe/19cnd-russia.ht].

2 Steven Lee Myers, “Post-Putin,” New York Times, 25 February 2007 [Accessible at: http://www.nytimes.com/2007/02/25/magazine/25Russia.t.html?r].

3 Steven Lee Myers, “Putin’s Assertive Diplomacy Is Seldom Challenged,” New York Times, 27 December 2006. [Accessible at: http://www.nytimes.com/2006/12/27/world/europe/27russia.html].

4 “The Hollowing Out of Politics,” Economist, 22 February 2007. [Accessible at: http://www.economist.com/PrinterFriendly.cfm?story_id=8744541].

5 Andrew E. Kramer, “Putin Promises To Remain Infl uential,” New York Times, 26 October 2006. [Accessible at: http://www.nytimes.com/2006/10/26/world/europe/26russia.html].

6 “Russian Minister Says U.S. Infl uence in Decline,” Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty, 17 March 2007. [Accessible at: http://www.rferl.org/featuresarticleprint/2007/03/41f209b2-2341-4].

7 The Associated Press, “Putin Rebukes U.S. for Its Use of Force,” New York Times,10 February 2007. [Accessible at: http://www.nytimes.com/aponline/world/AP-Security-Conference.html].

8 Ibid. 9 Heather Maher, “U.S.–Russia: Hopes High, Expectations Low For Bush–Putin Summit,”

Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty, 29 June 2007. [Accessible at: http://www.rferl.org/featuresarticleprint/2007/06/1f002cb-a961-4b…]. See also Jim Rutenberg, “Putin Expands on His Missile Defense Plan,” New York Times, 3 July 2007. [Accessible at: http://www.nytimes.com/2007/07/03/us/03putin.html].

10 Victor Yasmann, “Russia: Reviving the Army, Revising Military Doctrine,” Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty, 12 March 2007. [Accessible at: http://www.rferl.org/featuresarticleprint/2007/03/63173250-a8b3-4].

11 Ibid.

192 A. Braun

12 Ibid. 13 Simon Saradzhyan, “Military To Get $189 Bln Overhaul,” Moscow Times, 8 February

2007. [Accessible at: http://www.themoscowtimes.com/stories/2007/02/08/001.html]. 14 The Moscow Times, “Ivanov Plans To Rebuild the Country’s Naval Power,” 14 June

2007. [Accessible at: http://www.themoscowtimes.com/stories/2007/06/14/042.html]. 15 Ibid. 16 Ibid. 17 Claire Bigg, “Russia Warns Czech Republic, Poland on Missile Defense,” Radio Free

Europe/Radio Liberty, 20 February 2007. [Accessible at: http://www.rferl.org/featuresarticleprint/2007/02/3a7c3f97-dbbf-44].

18 Kommersant (Moscow), “Sergei Ivanov Threatens U.S. but Frightens Europe,” 7 July 2007. [Accessible at: http://www.kommersant.com/p780721/Ivanov_said_Russia_might].

19 “Russia Accuses U.S. of ‘Disrespecting’ European Allies,” Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty, 21 March 2007. [Accessible at: http://www.rferl.org/featuresarticleprint/2007/03/080a52ac-a059-4a].

20 Agence France Presse, “NATO Rules Out Involvement in US Missile Shield Talks,” 14 March 2007. [Accessible at: http://ca.news.yahoo.com/s/afp/us_defence_missile_nato&printer=1].

21 Martin Helme, “The Beginning of a New Cold War,” Brussels Journal (Brussels), 4 April 2007. [Accessible at: http://www.brusselsjournal.com/node/2028].

22 Kommersant, “U.S. Base Construction in Poland to Begin on Eve of Russian Elections,” 19 July 2007. [Accessible at: http://www.kommersant.com/p783639/missile_defense/].

23 Lilia Shevtsova, “Anti-Westernism Is the New National Idea,” Moscow Times, 7 August 2007. [Accessible at: http://www.themoscowtimes.com/stories/2007/08/07/005-print.html].

24 Ibid. 25 RIA Novosti (Moscow), “Putin Says Recent N. Pole Mission To Back Russian Claim

to Arctic,” 7 August 2007. [Accessible at: http://en.rian.ru/russia/20070807/70535166.html].

26 Moscow Times, “Gazprom To Halve Gas Supply to Belarus,” 2 August 2007. [Accessible at: http://www.themoscowtimes.com/stories/2007/08/02/003.html]. See also Andrew E. Kramer, “Russia Threatens Cut in Belarus Gas Supply,” New York Times, 2 August 2007. [Accessible at: http://www.nytimes.com/2007/08/02/world/europe/02russia.html]. Further, see Steven Lee Myers, “Russia Suspends Links to Georgia as Tensions Rise,” New York Times, 2 October 2006. [Accessible at: http://www.nytimes.com/2006/10/02/world/europe/03georgiacnd.html].

27 “CIS: Foreign Ministers, Heads of State Gather in Minsk For Summit,” Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty, 26 November 2006. [Accessible at: http://www.rferl.org/featuresarticleprint/2006/11/6e49cd34-6c37-40].

28 Ibid. 29 Steven Lee Myers, “No Cold War, Perhaps, but Surely a Lukewarm Peace,” New

York Times, 18 February 2007. [Accessible at: http://www.nytimes.com/2007/02/18/weekinreview/18myers.html].

Conclusion 193

30 Ze’ev Schiff, “Syria, Iran Intelligence Services Aided Hezbollah during War,” Haaretz,10 October 2006. [Accessible at: http://www.haaretz.com/hasen/objects/pages/PrintArticleEn.jhtml].

31 Ibid. 32 Andrei Piontkovsky, “Putin’s Plan for Confl ict with Iran,” Jerusalem Post, 1 February 2006

[Accessible at: http://pqasb.pqarchiver.com/jpost/access/979349791.html?dids=97…]; Oliver Bullough, “Russia Goes Its Own Way in Selling Arms,” Moscow Times, 20 June 2006 [Accessible at: http://www.themoscowtimes.com/stories/2006/06/20/050.html]; Barry Rubin, “Getting Serious About Syria,” Jerusalem Post, 10 July 2007 [Accessible at: http://pqasb/pqarchiver.com/jpost/access/1303211681.html?dids=1].

33 Victor Yasmann, “Russia: Why Is the Kremlin Retreating From Bushehr?,” Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty, 23 March 2007. [Accessible at: http://www.rferl.org/featuresarticleprint/2007/03/0e8a4121-0572-4]; It should be noted though that by January 2008 Russia sent a fourth substantial shipment of nuclear fuel to Iran for the Bushehr reactor. Associated Press, “A fourth shipment of Russian nuclear fuel arrives in Iran Sunday”, CBC News, 20 January 2008, http://www.cbc.ca/cp/world/080120/w012008A.html.

34 Charlemagne, “Berlin Minus,” Economist, 8 February 2007. [Accessible at: http://www.economist.com/PrinterFriendly.cfm?story_id=8669193].

35 Reuters, “NATO ‘Very Concerned’ at Russia Treaty Pullout,” New York Times, 16 July 2007; Ron Synovitz, “Russia Suspends Participation in Key Arms Treaty,” Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty, 14 July 2007. [Accessible at: http://www.rferl.org/featuresarticleprint/2007/072204d555-8bf1-4].

36 Thom Shanker, “NATO To Meet Amid Afghan Mission Strains,” New York Times,27 November 2006. [Accessible at: http://www.nytimes.com/2006/11/27/world/asia/27nato.html?page].

Index

Abkhazian region 18, 49, 97, 104, 105, 173, 175

Adamov, Yevgeny 123Adjaria 104, 107 n.11Adriatic Charter 96Afghanistan: NATO activities 55, 78, 79,

80, 83, 84, 88, 94, 96, 98, 99, 100, 104, 175–6, 189, 190; and NATO–Russia Council 58; North Atlantic Council activities 95; Provincial Reconstruction Teams 94, 99; Soviet invasion 87, 114; Taliban regime 114, 125, 128, 149, 163–4, 190; and United States 45, 48, 96, 99, 175–6

Africa 50, 79Agrarian League 14Ahmadinezhad, Mahmud 141, 142, 143,

144, 145, 146al-Hakim, Abdul Aziz 131–2Al Qaeda 86, 111, 114, 115, 149, 163Albania 17, 78, 96, 107 n.15Albright, David 143Albright, Madeleine 73Alekperov, Vagit 134Aliev, Ilkham 103Alkhanov, Alu 128Allawi, Ayad 134Allison, Graham 113Andijan 48anti-ballistic missile deployment 61, 63,

87, 186, 187–8Anti-ballistic Missile Treaty 45Arafat, Yasir 86Argentina 15Armenia 11, 20, 97, 103, 104“arc of stability” 124arms control 31, 91, 130arms traffi cking 91, 96, 102, 108, 112–13,

115, 165, 166

Ashcroft, John 74Asia, Central 25, 43, 45, 48–9, 95, 96, 99,

105, 125, 128, 135, 165, 166, 167–8, 170, 173, 176

Asia, East 56Asmus, Ronald D. 76Assad, Bashar 148Australia 78Austria 78, 107 n.15autocratic regimes 20; break-up of 13–15Ayub Khan, Mohammad 15Azerbaijan 11, 20, 43, 97, 102, 103, 104,

138, 140

Bakker, Edwin E. 116Baku–Tbilisi–Ceyhan pipeline 104, 124Balkans: cooperation initiatives 100; peace

operations 74, 78, 80, 84, 87, 93, 94, 96Baltic Battalion (BALTBAT) 101Baltic Sea 58Baltic States 25, 46, 47, 55, 58, 59, 62,

64, 72, 97, 104, 165, 170; “frozen confl icts” 7, 97, 102, 105, 169, 173–7

Barnier, Michel 60Basayev, Shamil 162, 164Belarus 26, 47, 50, 63, 112, 165–6, 189Belgium 83, 115, 118Berdymukhamedov, Gurbanguli 26Berezovsky, Boris 123Berlin 92, 111, 146Berlin Plus arrangements 82, 190Berlusconi, Silvio 60Beslan hostages 29, 125, 127–8, 140Bismarck, Otto von 14, 18Black Sea Economic Cooperation (BSEC)

101, 108 n.31Black Sea Harmony 101–2, 105Black Sea region 91, 96–7, 166, 173, 174,

176; security cooperation 100–6

Index 195Blackseafor 101, 105Blair, Tony 75, 136Bolton, John 137Borko, Yuri 171Bosnia-Herzegovina 44, 84, 92, 93, 96 see

also Dayton Accords; Implementation Force; Stabilization Force

Bratislava 61Brazil 78Brenner, Michael 85Britain: Europe, relations with 88; France,

relations with 14; Germany, relations with 14; institutions for the old elite, and mass suffrage 15; and Iraq 130, 132, 134; and NATO 82, 91; Russia, relations with 75, 119; Syria, relations with 148; and terrorism 81, 115, 128; and United Nations Security Council 119; United States, relations with 88 see also EU3

BSEC see Black Sea Economic Cooperation

Brzezinski, Zbigniew 63Bulgaria 33, 96, 102, 103, 105, 107 n.15,

185; Blackseafor 101; GUAM 103Burns, Nicholas 146Burundi 12Bush, George W. 58, 60, 61–2, 63, 65, 75,

82, 85, 86, 127, 133Bush–Putin talks 136–7, 141Bushehr nuclear reactor 125, 135, 136,

137, 138, 139, 140–1, 142, 146, 150, 189, 193 n.33

Canada 43, 88Card, Andrew 162Caspian Basin 46, 47, 91, 97, 103, 135,

138, 168Caspian Sea Legal Regime 138, 140Caucasus 46, 47, 49, 79, 95, 96, 99, 100,

101, 105, 120, 135, 166, 174, 176; North 30, 37, 49, 120, 162, 165, 166, 176; South 97, 103, 104, 105; and terrorism 114–15

CFE (Conventional Forces in Europe) treaty 190

Chechen confl icts 12, 18–19, 43, 44, 45, 46, 55, 60, 74, 81, 105, 164, 166, 176; European Union stance on 117–18, 120, 162; International Islamic Battalion 114; Putin’s policies 12, 15, 19, 29, 77, 125, 140, 148, 149; rebranded as counter-terrorist operation 40; Russian public opinion on 27, 28–9,

30, 37 n.2, 131; and Saudi Arabia 126; and terrorism 114, 115, 125–8, 129, 149, 164

Chechnya 49, 114, 125–6, 128China 40, 42, 43, 44, 46, 48, 66, 86, 119,

162, 164, 165, 168, 170, 189Chirac, Jacques 59, 60, 61, 65, 66, 130,

139, 141Churkin, Vitaly 147class interests 17Clinton, Bill 76Cold War 62, 64, 79, 80, 83, 87, 91–2,

111Collective Security Treaty Organization

(CSTO) 170Common European Security and Defense

Policy 92Commonwealth of Independent States

(CIS) 65, 186, 189; democratic status 162, 163; included in North Atlantic Cooperation Council 93; and Organization for Security and Co-operation in Europe (OSCE) 48; and Partnership for Peace program 98; Russian hegemony 46–7, 164, 165, 168–73, 176, 177, 187; TACIS (Technical Aid to the Commonwealth of Independent States) 116; Tashkent CIS Collective Security Treaty 103, 104 see also “near abroad”; and specifi c states

communism 25, 32, 43–4Communist Party, Russian 124, 131Conference on Security and Co-operation

in Europe (CSCE) 93, 172 see also Organization for Security and Co-operation in Europe

Conventional Forces in Europe treaty 61Council of Europe 39, 40, 128Council on Foreign Relations 32Covenant on Civil and Political Rights

40crime, organized 96, 115, 166Crimea 36, 44, 105Croatia 17, 78, 96Czech Republic 32, 61, 73, 74, 93, 94, 95,

107 n.15; United States missile defense systems 99, 186–7, 188

Czechoslovakia 92; “Velvet divorce” 100

Dagestan 114, 120Darfur 40Dayton Accords 42, 93, 96, 98Demirel, Suleyman 37 n.2

196 Indexdemocracies: bargaining ability 21;

government accountability to voters 19–21; illiberal 57; and impact of NATO enlargement on Russia-NATO relations 39–52; liberal, defi nition 57; NATO expansion of “zone of democracy” 1, 55, 64, 185; shared norms and common liberal identity 20; transparency of 20–1

democratization: and democratic peace 19–21; Eastern Europe 62, 97, 174; Georgia 58; link between use of force and 11; links between incomplete transitions and war 12–13; Russian Federation 25–6, 39–41, 57, 60–1, 62, 64, 66, 72, 75, 77, 87, 123, 161, 162–3, 164–5, 168, 173, 174, 176, 185–6, 188, 191; Ukraine 58; United States policy 162–3; wars of 11–12

democratization, incomplete: institutions in 15–16; and nationalism 16–18, 19, 20, 21, 22; nature of power and calculus of interests in 13–15;

division of responsibilities, transatlantic see transatlantic division of responsibilities

drug traffi cking 91, 96, 102, 115, 166Duma: elections (2003) 124, 130, 131;

elections (2007) 27; and Iraq war 130; neutralization of 39; Putin, support of 124; raising of threshold to win seats 186

East Timor 12Ecuador 11–12Egypt 112ElBaradei, Mohammed 137, 138, 144, 145,

146elites: and incomplete democratization

13–18, 19, 21; and nationalism 16–18, 19; role in shaping public preferences 30; Russia 26, 27–8, 30, 31

energy security 47, 49Eritrea 12Estonia 33, 45, 59, 76, 107 n.15, 118, 165,

188Ethiopia 12ethnic confl ict 26ethnic nationalism 11, 17Eurasia 25, 41, 47, 166, 168, 169, 171,

172; frozen confl icts 173–7Euro-Atlantic Partnership Council (EAPC)

98, 99, 107 n.23; Action Plan 2002–04 99; Civil Emergency Action Plan

99; Partnership Action Plan against Terrorism (PAP–T) 99, 100

Euro-Atlantic relations 25, 73, 77, 99, 102–3, 105, 161, 174

Europe: democracy, impact of NATO enlargement on Russia-NATO relations 39–52; energy supplies from Russia 58, 59–60, 78; Russia, relations with 56, 59–61, 64–7, 72, 78, 115–21, 161, 162; security frameworks 37, 63–4, 65, 67, 74, 79, 84–7, 88, 91–5, 105–6, 164, 165–6, 169, 170, 171–2, 174, 176, 190; transition processes in 86–7; United States, relations with 65–7, 80, 84–6, 87–9, 119, 173 see also transatlantic division of responsibilities

Europe, Central 32, 73, 75, 100–1, 163Europe, Eastern: military cooperation in

100–1; and NATO 32, 33, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60, 61, 64, 66, 75, 97, 186, 188; Russia, attempts to contain 62–4, 66; Russia, relations with 65, 73, 119, 163, 173, 188 see also specifi c countries

European Security and Defense Identity 92

Europe, Southeast 100 see also BalkansEurope, Western see EuropeEuropean Commission 117European Parliament 117European Union: and Balkans stabilization

84, 174; creation of single normative space 39; European Security and Defense Policy 88; expansion 56; and France 61; and GUAM 103; and Iran 136, 137, 141; Middle East, diplomacy in 128; and NATO 78, 80, 82, 83–4, 95, 105, 106, 190; Operation Althea 95; Partnership Cooperation Agreement-Author 171; Romanian membership 105, 117–18; Russian admission 37, 64; Russia, relations with 40, 115–19, 161, 162, 163, 165, 170, 171, 172–3; and Russia’s “near abroad” 32, 37, 43, 47, 50; TACIS (Technical Aid to the Commonwealth of Independent States) 116; terrorism, fi ght against 111–12, 115–21; Ukraine membership 37, 43, 47, 63; and Uzbekistan 26

EU3 138–40, 141, 142, 143, 144, 145, 149, 150

Europol 116

Falklands/Malvinas War 14Finland 78, 107 n.15

Index 197Founding Act. See NATO–Russia

Founding Act on Mutual Relations, Cooperation and Security

Fradkov, Mikhail 124France: Britain, relations with 14; French

Revolution 17; Iran, relations with 135; Iraq War, opposition to 45, 85, 130, 131; and NATO 55–6, 58, 76, 82, 83, 87, 94, 96, 190; Poland, relations with 60; rioting, fall 2005 88; Russia, relations with 14, 58, 59, 60, 61, 62, 64, 65–6, 76, 119; Syria, relations with 148; and terrorism 81, 115, 118; and United Nations Security Council 119; United States, relations with 61, 85, 88 see also EU3

France–Russia Council 64, 66“frozen confl icts” 7, 97, 102, 105, 169,

173–7Freedom House 26Fulda Gaps 91Fuller, Elizabeth 164

G8 40, 77, 116, 136Gaddis, John Lewis 111Gaza 128, 129, 143Gazprom 39, 124, 167, 186Geneva Conventions 40, 51 n.4Georgia: Abkhazia 18, 49, 97, 105,

173, 175, 104; and Black Sea region cooperation 101, 174; and CIS 189; democratization 58; Europe, relations with 26; GUAM/GUUAM 102–3; NATO membership 36, 43, 47, 55, 58, 63, 96, 104, 170, 187, 190; Rose Revolution 37, 40, 41, 47, 102; Russian energy supply to 49; Russian forces in 165; Russian sanctions against 49, 189; South Ossetia 97, 104, 105, 173, 175; and terrorism 114, 115, 120, 130

Germany: Bundeswehr 169; Europe, relations with 61, 88, 119; incomplete democratization, late nineteenth century 14–15, 18; Iraq War, opposition to 45, 130, 131; nationalism in 18; and NATO 55–6, 58, 83, 92, 94; oil supplies from Russia 58, 60, 188; Russia, relations with 14, 58, 59, 60, 61, 62, 64, 65, 66, 78, 119, 172, 173; and terrorism 81, 115, 118 see also EU3

Gibraltar, Strait of 95Gorbachev, Mikhail 25, 26, 41, 44Gorchakov, Aleksandr 56government accountability to voters: for

adherence to international agreements 20–1; for war 19–20; Russia 26–7, 30

Govorukhin, Valery 138Grant, Robert P. 90 n.30Great Britain see BritainGreece 83, 92, 103Greenland 91Gross, Andreas 128Grozin, Andrei 167Grozny 29, 127GUAM/GUUAM 102–3, 189Gulf states 114, 127Gusinsky, Vladimir 123

Hale, Henry 27Hamas 50, 128–9, 149, 164Hanssen, Robert 163Hariri, Rafi k 125, 148, 150Helms, Jesse 73–4Helsinki Treaty (1975) 163Herzegovina 84Hezbollah 135, 147, 148, 149, 150, 164,

164, 189Hitler, Adolf 17Holbrooke, Richard C. 32, 33Hugenberg, Alfred 17Hulsman, John 162human rights 40, 41, 48, 57, 59, 77, 116,

119, 162, 174, 186human-rights offenses 40; Uzbekistan 26human traffi cking 91, 96, 102humanitarian assistance 98Hungary 12, 32, 73, 74, 93, 94, 95, 98,

100, 107 n.15Huntington, Samuel 13Hussein, Saddam 84, 99, 129, 130, 131,

132, 133

Iceland 91Implementation Force (IFOR) 93, 95, 98,

107 n.15India 12, 15, 42, 168; NATO membership

78; and terrorism 128Indonesia 12International Atomic Energy Agency

(IAEA) 135, 136, 137–8, 139, 140, 141, 142, 143–4, 145, 146–7, 149–507

International Convention on the Suppression of Acts of Nuclear Terrorism 116

International Convention on Torture 51 n.4

International Security Assistance Force (ISAF) 55, 96, 99, 100, 108 n.26

198 IndexIran: building a new Euro-Atlantic front

86; Bushehr nuclear reactor 125, 135, 136, 137, 138, 139, 140–1, 142, 146, 150, 189, 193 n.33; nuclear weapons 86, 113, 123, 135–47, 149–50, 162, 189, 193 n.33; Russia, relations with 42, 45–6, 61, 123, 128, 135–47, 149–50, 162, 163, 164, 189, 193 n.33; Russian arms and military equipment sales to 135, 137, 138, 140, 144, 150, 164, 165, 189; and terrorism 128; uranium enrichment program 136, 137–9, 141, 142, 143, 144, 145, 146, 150

Iraq: Belarus, trade with 166; Russia’s relations with 129–35

Iraq war 30, 31, 61, 65, 73, 78, 84, 85, 99, 137, 145, 149, 173; building a new Euro-Atlantic front 85–6; divisions over 78, 80, 81, 82, 83, 85, 86, 87; Joint Statement on Iraq (2003) 60; and NATO 37 n.4, 77, 79, 82; Polish-led multinational division 95, 96, 99, 100; and Russia 42, 44, 45, 58, 59, 60, 124, 129–35, 149, 165, 189; and Syria 148

Ireland 78, 107 n.16, 113Isfahan 138, 141, 142, 143Islam, radicalized and politicized 26, 114Islamic Conference of States (OIC) 126,

129Islamic militants 112, 114, 115, 120, 125,

135, 141, 148; Al Qaeda 86, 111, 114, 115, 149, 163; International Islamic Battalion 114; Russia, relations with 125–9, 131, 149, 163–4

Islamic Movement of Uzbekistan 125, 163Israel 50, 86, 128–9, 139, 142, 143, 144Israel–Hezbollah war 148, 150Israeli–Palestine dispute 86, 113–14,

128–9Italy 60Ivanov, Igor 124, 152 n.33, 161, 171Ivanov, Sergei 30, 124, 129, 170, 187, 188,

189

Japan 21, 78, 168Jenkins, Peter 144jihadist movement see Islamists, militantJones, David 80Jordan 143

Kabul 99Kaczynski, Lech 63, 188Kadyrov, Akhmad 126, 126, 127, 133

Kadyrov, Razman 164Kagan, Robert 92Kaliningrad 47, 59, 165, 171, 188Kant, Immanuel 20Karaganov, Sergei 106–7 n.9Kargil War 12Karimov, Islam 26, 49Kay, Sean 83Kazakhstan 49, 112, 167Kennan, George 74, 174Kerry, John 133Khabab, Abu 115Khan, Abdul 143, 147Khattab, Amir 114Khazyanov, Mikhail 124Khodorkovsky, Mikhail 27, 30, 40, 46, 60,

119, 123, 125, 168Kholmogorov, Egor 166Kiriyenko, Sergei 123, 146Kislyak, Sergei 136, 140Kissinger, Henry 58Komsomol 59Korea, North 162, 163Korea, South 78, 168Korean War 92Kosovo 15, 17, 42, 44, 58, 76, 83, 84, 92,

93, 96, 190; Polish–Ukraine battalion in 100–1

Kosovo Force (KFOR) 93, 95, 96, 98, 104, 107 n.19

Kosyrev, Andrei 31Kremlin 27, 37, 123, 124, 130, 133, 186,

189, 190Kuala Lumpur 126–7Kuchma, Leonid 106 n.9Kunduz 99Kwasniewski, Aleksander 58, 59, 60, 63Kyrgyzstan 37, 40, 43, 45

Lahoud, Emile 147Larijani, Ali 146Latvia 33, 45, 62, 63, 76, 107 n.15Lavrov, Sergei 124, 126, 129, 132, 133,

138, 142–3, 145, 146, 148, 170, 186, 187

Leahy, Patrick 74Lebanon 85, 114, 125, 147, 148, 150liberal imperialism 62liberal internationalism 41liberalism 16–17Lieven, Anatol 162Lithuania 33, 45, 58, 62, 76, 97, 107 n.15,

188Loewenhardt, John 166

Index 199Lukashenko, Aleksandr 26, 50Lukoil 130, 132, 134, 167

Maastricht Treaty 118–19Macedonia 78, 96, 165Malaysia 126–7Mashal, Khaled 129Mazeikiai oil refi nery 58McFaul, Michael 19, 27media, control of 17–18, 26; Russia 39,

77, 186Mediterranean 78, 79, 95, 96, 101Medvedev, Dmitrii 27, 37Medvedev, Sergei 172Mehlis, Detlev 148Merkel, Angela 61, 78, 188Michel, Leo 83Middle East 33, 50, 56, 73, 79, 80, 112,

123–60, 189; building a new Euro-Atlantic front 86

Mihkelson, Marko 165Miller, Alexei 124Milosevic, Slobodan 15, 17Minatom 123, 135, 136, 138 see also

RosatomMohammadi, Mehdi 140Moldova 43, 59, 97, 102, 103, 165, 173,

176, 189Molotov–Ribbentrop Protocols 59Montenegro 78, 96Montreux Convention (1936) 102Moscow 26, 50, 75, 127, 128, 129, 137multipolarity 42, 44, 60, 65, 124, 165,

168–73Musharraf, Pervez 114Muslims see Islamists

Nagorno-Karabakh 11, 20, 97, 104, 105nationalism, and incomplete

democratization 16–18, 19, 20, 21, 22. see also ethnic nationalism

NATO: and Afghanistan 96, 98, 99, 100, 175–6, 189, 190; anti-ballistic missile deployment 61; and Balkans 174; and Baltic States 62, 104; Berlin Plus arrangements 82; and Britain 82, 91; beyond Russia 77–87; Bosnia, intervention in 44; Cold War policies (1949–91) 91–2; Combined Joint Task Forces 92; Concept for Defense against Terrorism 99; decision-making process 82–4; Defense Capabilities Initiative 92, 94, 98; dialogue, cooperation and partnership 78–9; and Eastern Europe

32, 33, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60, 61, 64, 66, 75, 97, 186, 188; and European transitions 86–7; European Union, relations with 78, 80, 82, 83–4, 95, 105, 106, 190; and France 55–6, 58, 76, 82, 83, 87, 94, 96, 190; and Germany 55–6, 58, 83, 92, 94; and GUAM 103; and Iran 135, 144; and Iraq War 37 n.4, 81, 134–5; and Kosovo 42, 76, 83; nuclear policy 83; Out-of-Area operations 4, 82, 91, 93, 94, 96, 190; peace operations, Balkans 74, 80, 84, 87, 93, 96, 175; and Poland 33, 47, 60, 64, 66, 73, 74, 76, 93, 94, 95; post-Cold War policies (1991–2001) 92–3; post-11 September challenges 94–6; Russia, relations with 25, 44, 46, 47, 74–7, 100, 104, 123, 124, 134–5, 149–50, 168, 170, 173, 175, 186, 187–91; Russian cooperation with, attitudes towards 35, 36; Russian elite attitudes towards 33–5; Russian mass attitudes towards 33–6, 38 n.5; Russian membership 75, 76–7, 78, 87; Russian membership, attitudes towards 35, 65, 75; security policies 63, 74, 77, 79–80, 84–7, 91–6, 105–6; and Serbia 42, 44, 78, 96, 98; Strategic Concept (1991) 92; Strategic Concept (1999) 81, 92, 94, 98; toolbox, use as 82; transatlantic capabilities gap 84, 92, 94; transatlantic division of responsibilities 84–6, 87–9, 90 n.20; “transformation” command 79; and Ukraine 36, 38 n.6, 47, 55, 58, 63, 64, 78–9, 80, , 87, 96, 97, 98, 100, 106–7 n.9, 170, 187, 190; vulnerability to Russian pressures 190–1 see alsoPartnership for Peace program

NATO Defense Planning Questionnaire 98NATO enlargement: and attempts to

contain Russia 32, 37, 62–4, 66; Baltic states 165, 174; Cold War (1949–91) 91–2; continuing 78–9; framework of principles for 73; impact of 72–3; justifi cation for 32, 73; Membership Action Plan (MAP) 93, 95, 96, 98, 100, 102, 107 n.21, 174; post-Cold War (1991–2001) 92–3; post-11 September 94–6; and Russian containment of NATO 56–62, 66, 187, 188; Russian views on 32–4, 36, 44, 45, 46, 55, 56, 57–8, 72, 76, 91–110, 170, 187, 188; and Russia’s “near abroad” 32, 43, 47, 50; strengthening of European

200 Indexdemocracy, impact on Russia–NATO relations 39–52; Study on NATO enlargement 73, 77, 93, 97, 107 n.14; terrorism, fi ght against 94–6, 115; United States Senate debate on 73–4; Western European responses to Russian concerns 64–7

NATO Response Force (NRF) 79, 94, 99NATO–Russia Council (NRC) 55, 58,

75–6, 81, 175NATO–Russia Founding Act on Mutual

Relations, Cooperation and Security (1997) 32, 58, 75

NATO–Russia Permanent Joint Council (PJC) 58, 75, 76, 98

NATO Security Investment Program 105NATO–Ukraine Commission 98Naumann, Klauss 82Navy League 14Nazi–Soviet Pact 59“near abroad” 40, 42, 43; anti-ballistic

missile deployment in 61; and European Union 32, 37, 43, 47, 50; and NATO enlargement 32, 43, 47, 50; potential for disagreement between Russia and Europe 48, 50, 170, 173, 176; Russian commitment to primacy in 46–8, 165, 187 see alsoCommonwealth of Independent States (CIS); NATO enlargement

Netherlands 83New Zealand 78 norms: humanitarian and human rights 40;

liberal 20North Atlantic Cooperation Council 93, 97North Atlantic Council (NAC) 39, 76, 83,

93, 95, 99“nuclear junk” 121 n.7Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty 113,

137, 141nuclear weapons 112–13, 120; anti-

ballistic missile deployment 61, 63, 87, 186, 187–8; Anti-ballistic Missile Treaty 45; Iran 86, 113, 123, 135–47, 150, 162, 189, 193 n.33; North Korea 162; nuclear missiles 87; Soviet Union 87; Russian Federation 46, 74, 77; smuggling 112–13, 115

OIC see Islamic Conference of Statesoil and gas: Baku–Tbilisi–Ceyhan pipeline

104, 124; Odessa–Brody oil pipeline 103; Turkey 104–5, 124 see also Black Sea region; Caspian Basin; Russian

Federation energy development and trade

Onyszkiewicz, Janusz 95Operation Active Endeavour 95, 96, 101,

102Operation Althea 95Operation Enduring Freedom 96, 99, 104,

108 n.27Operation Iraqi Freedom 99, 104, 108 n.29Organization for Democracy and

Economic Development 189Organization for Security and Co-

operation in Europe (OSCE) 39, 40, 93, 171, 172, 173; and Balkans 174; border monitoring, Georgia 49; fi eld offi ces in CIS 48; Offi ce for Democratic Institutions and Human Rights (ODIHR) 48; and Ukraine 102 see also Conference on Security and Co-operation in Europe

Oslo Accords 128Oslon, Aleksandr 33Ossetia, North 105Ossetia, South 49, 97, 104, 173, 175

Pabriks, Artis 62Pakistan 12, 15, 114, 137Palestinian Legislative Council 128Pankisi Gorge 104, 114, 115, 120Paramonov, Vladimir 168Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of

Europe 128Parmentier, Guillaume 85Partnership Action Plan against Terrorism

(PAP–T) 99, 100, 105, 108 n.25Partnership Cooperation Agreement-

Author 171Partnership for Peace program 91, 93, 94,

96, 97–8, 98–9, 174; and Black Sea regional cooperation 101, 102, 103, 104, 105, 174; and Operation EnduringFreedom 99; Individual Partnership Programs 104, 107 n.13; Participation in the Planning and Review Process (PARP) 98, 99, 103, 107 nn.13, 17, 18; Partnership Coordination Cell 98, 107 n.13; strategic vision for revival 100; Ukraine in 102, 104

Patten, Chris 117peace, democratic 19–21peacekeeping 75, 79; Balkans 74, 78, 80,

84, 87, 93, 94, 96, 175; Lebanon 85; Partnership Coordination Cell exercises 98; Russian forces 175

Index 201perestroika 44Peru 11–12Pfl uger, Friedbert 64PJC. See NATO–Russia Permanent Joint

CouncilPKK 128, 129, 149Poland: democratization 12; and Iraq war

95, 96, 99, 100; and NATO 33, 47, 60, 64, 66, 73, 74, 76, 93, 94, 95; and Partnership for Peace program 98, 107 n.15; Russia, relations with 58, 59, 62, 63, 78, 119; United States missile defense systems 61, 99, 186–7, 188

Politkovskaya, Anna 39, 186power 66; nature of, and incomplete

democratization 13–15“praetorian societies” 13Prague Capabilities Commitment (PCC)

99Primakov, Yevgeny 56, 57, 66, 124, 130Pushkov, Aleksei 44Putin, Vladimir: autocratic approach

77, 176, 186, 187; and Baltic states 165; Chechen policies 12, 15, 19, 29, 77, 125, 140, 148, 149; conscription policy 30; control and consolidation 39, 57, 123–4; and deep seabed mission 189; defense policy 186–7, 188; and democracy 57, 123, 176; Duma, support from 124; Eastern Europe, relations with 59; Europe, relations with 65, 78, 172; economic revival under 31, 124, 130, 131, 168; foreign policy 44–50, 57, 123–5, 186–7; France, relations with 65–6; Iran, relations with 136–7, 139–40, 141, 142, 144–5, 189; Iraq, relations with 129–35; Israel visit 50; NATO enlargement, views on 56, 75; NATO relations 75, 75, 76; Poland, relations with 59; popularity 27; President of Russian Federation 26, 27, 36, 42; Prime Minister of Russian Federation 37; and rule of law 61, 119; South African visit 50; Syria, relations with 148; and terrorism 125–9, 164; Ukraine elections (2004) 58; United States, relations with 44, 56, 61–2, 65–6, 124, 186; West, policy on 29, 31, 44, 57, 59–60, 161, 162; Western Europe, relations with 60

Quartet 128–9Qatar 127

realism 162, 163Realpolitik 168Rice, Condoleezza 142, 169Robertson, George 75Robertson, Lord 76Rød-Larsen, Terje 148Rodina party 124Romania 33, 64, 96, 97, 100, 102, 105,

107 n.15, 185; Blackseafor 101; and European Union 105, 117–18; GUAM 103

Rosatom 123 see also MinatomRosneft 39Rosner, Jeremy D. 76Rosoboronoexport 124Rowhani, Hassan 137, 139, 141rule of law 2, 11, 15, 16, 17, 51 n.4, 57,

61, 119Rumsfeld, Donald 188Rumyantsev, Alexander 123, 135, 136,

138, 139Russia–Iranian nuclear technology

relationship 46Russian Federation: arms and military

equipment sales 124, 130, 135, 137, 138, 140, 142, 144, 148, 149, 150, 163–4, 165–6, 167, 189; autocracy 164–5, 166–8, 170, 173, 176, 190; and Black Sea regional cooperation 101, 102; containment of, and NATO enlargement 32, 37, 62–4, 66, 92; corruption in 166, 176; decline of power 42–4; “deep state” 26, 30, 37 n.1; defense policy 187–8; democratic status 25–6, 39–41, 57, 60–1, 62, 64, 66, 72, 75, 77, 87, 123, 161, 162–3, 164–5, 168, 173, 174, 176, 185–6, 188, 191; demographic decline 26, 43; economy 26, 27–8, 29, 30, 31, 37, 39, 41, 42–3, 44, 50, 55, 66, 74–5, 124; elite in 26, 27–8, 30, 31, 33–5, 37, 166, 168, 171; and European security 63–4, 915, 164, 165–6, 169, 170, 171–2, 176, 186, 187–8, 190; European Union, cooperation with 40, 115–19; Eurasian identity 41; foreign policy 26, 27, 29, 30, 41–2, 44–51, 56, 57, 123–5, 161–84, 185, 186–7, 191; human rights 116, 162, 186; identity crisis 56, 62; immigration from post-Soviet countries 26; media control 39, 77, 186; military decline 43; multipolarity 42, 44, 60, 124, 165, 168–73; Muslim population 112, 125, 131; natural

202 Indexresources 74–5, 77; neo-imperialism 162, 164, 167, 171, 173, 174, 176; non-governmental organizations in 57; nuclear capability 46, 74, 77, 112–13, 120, 135, 145, 187–8; oligarchy 26, 27–8, 29, 44, 119, 123, 125; and Partnership for Peace program 104, 107 n.15; political isolation 37; post-postcommunist 25–38; power 56, 58, 66, 77, 124, 148, 163, 165, 166, 171, 186, 190; public opinion on policy issues 27–31, 153 n.38; regions, control over 39, 168–73, 176, 177, 187, 188–9; security concerns 56, 185; secret services 26; social assistance payments, attempt to monetize 30; “soft power’ 43–4; “sovereign democracy” status 37; sovereignty, internal 40, 55; and terrorism 81, 111, 112–16, 120–1, 125–35, 147–9, 150, 161, 163–4; xenophobia 26, 64; world order, understanding of 41–2, 50–1 see alsoChechen confl icts; Commonwealth of Independent States (CIS); NATO; “near abroad”; Soviet Union; West, Russian relations with; and under specifi c countries and regions for Russian relations

Russian Federation energy development and trade 55, 66, 74–5, 77, 124, 126, 186, 190; Central Asia 167–8; Europe 59–60, 78, 91; Europe, Eastern 63; Germany 58, 60, 188; and Iraq war 129, 130, 131–2, 133, 134; Lithuania 97; nuclear fuel supply to Iran 125, 135, 136, 138, 139–41, 142, 189, 193 n.33; oil shipments through Straits 104; Poland 63; petro-diplomacy 185, 188–9, 190; Syria 148; Turkey 104–5, 124; Ukraine 40, 47, 49–50, 78, 97, 189; vulnerability of 191

Russian Mufti Council 129Rwanda 12

Saakashvili, Mikhail 36, 103, 104, 107 n.11, 125

SACEUR 83Saeedi, Mohamed 146Sakhalin II 46Salafi jihad 112, 114, 115, 120Sarkozy, Nicolas 61, 190Saudi Arabia 112, 114, 126Scheffer, Jaap de Hoop 57, 76Schell, Jonathan 112

Schroeder, Gerhard 59, 60, 61, 65, 119, 139

search and rescue 98SECI see Southeast European Cooperation

Initiativesecurity 74, 77, 79–80; after September

11 98–9, 111; Black Sea region 100–6; changing environment 96–7; Cold War 91–2; contingency planning 79–80; Europe 37, 63–4, 65, 67, 74, 79, 84–7, 88, 91–5, 105–6, 164, 165–6, 169, 170, 171–2, 174, 176, 190; NATO policies 63, 74, 77, 79–80, 84–7, 91–6, 105–6; post-Cold War 92–3; Russian concerns 56, 185; Vancouver to Vladivostok 1, 55, 64, 67 see also nuclear weapons; Partnership for Peace program; terrorism

SEDM see Southeast European Defense Ministerial

SEEBRIG see Southeast European BrigadeSeptember 11 terrorist attacks 30, 33, 45,

75, 77, 79, 81, 111Serbia 42; media jurisdiction 17;

nationalist wars 20; NATO attack on 44, 98; NATO membership 78, 96

Sergeev, Igor 124SFOR see Stabilization ForceShanghai Cooperation Organization 48–9,

127, 128, 140, 149, 170, 189Sharif, Nawaz 15Shell 46, 186Shevardnadze, Eduard 47, 125Shevtsova, Lilia 188–9Slovakia 33, 35, 107 n.16; “Velvet

divorce” 100Slovenia 33, 96, 107 n.16Solana, Javier 60Solovstsov, Nikolai 187–8South Africa 50; institutions for the old

elite, and mass suffrage 15; NATO membership 78

Southeast European Brigade (SEEBRIG) 100, 101, 102

Southeast European Cooperation Initiative (SECI) 100, 102

Southeast European Defense Ministerial (SEDM) 100, 102, 105, 106

sovereignty, and counter-terrorism 118, 120

Soviet Union 32; and Baltic states 165; collapse of 11, 18, 25, 31, 72, 92, 97, 166; and Eastern Europe 62; and NATO 87, 92; nuclear weapons

Index 20387, 112; United States containment strategy 74 see also Commonwealth of Independent States; “near abroad”; Russian Federation

Spain 92, 115, 118, 128, 149Stabilization Force (SFOR) 93, 95, 98, 107

n.16Straits 104Straw, Jack 139Strogov, Aleksey 168Sudan 40, 50suffrage, mass 15Sweden 78, 107 n.15Syria: Russia, relations with 50, 147–9,

150, 164; Russian supply of arms to 125, 164, 189

Szczyglo, Aleksander 63

TACIS (Technical Aid to the Commonwealth of Independent States) 116

Taliban regime 114, 125, 128, 149, 163–4, 190

Tallinn 59Tehran 135terrorism 26, 73, 81–2, 94, 95, 98, 111–22;

and Britain 81, 115, 128; and European Union 111–12, 115–22; and France 81, 115, 118; and Georgia 114, 115, 120, 130; and Germany 81, 115, 118; NATO members’ differing perspectives 81–2, 87; Partnership Action Plan against Terrorism (PAP–T) 99, 100, 105; and Partnership for Peace program 100; and Russian Federation 81, 111, 112–16, 120–1, 125–35, 147–9, 150, 161, 163–4; September 11 terrorist attacks 30, 33, 45, 75, 77, 79, 81, 111; and Turkey 128; United States–led war on 45, 51 n.4, 61, 66, 75, 77, 81–2, 94, 116, 127, 162; Uzbekistan 48 see alsoIraq war; Islamic militants

transatlantic division of responsibilities; European Union 111–12, 121; NATO 84–6, 87–9, 90 n.20

Transnistria 47, 97, 105, 165Transparency International 57Trenin, Dmitri 87, 97, 161–2, 166Tudjman, Franjo 17Tula Instrument Design Bureau 137Turkey 82, 83, 92, 104, 105; Armenia,

relations with 103; and European Union 117–18; Black Sea Harmony 101, 102; Blackseafor 101; oil and gas 104–5,

124; Russia, relations with 104–5; and terrorism 128

Turkmenistan 26

Uganda 12Ukraine: and Black Sea regional

cooperation 101, 102; and CIS 189; democratization 58, 59, 87; elections (2004) 58, 59, 77, 165; elections (2006) 102; Europe, integration with 26, 37, 43, 47, 63, 174; Holodomor famine 102; NATO cooperation 36, 38 n.6, 80, 98, 100; NATO membership 36, 47, 55, 58, 63, 64, 78–9, 87, 96, 97, 106–7 n.9, 170, 187, 190; nuclear capability 112; Orange Revolution 37, 40, 58, 60, 102, 103, 125, 140; and Partnership for Peace program 102, 107 n.15; Poland, relations with 63; Russian energy supply to 40, 49–50, 78, 97, 189; Russia, relations with 36, 102, 103, 165, 172, 173, 176

UNCHRO, Czech–Slovak battalion in 100United Kingdom see BritainUnited Nations: Middle East, diplomacy in

128; role in legitimizing security efforts 85; and United States 85

United Nations Charter 40, 113United Nations Protection Force

(UNPROFOR), Czech–Slovak battalion in 100

United Nations Security Council 86, 119, 169; and Beslan school seizure 128; and France 85; and Iran 46, 135, 137, 138, 139, 141, 142, 143, 144, 145–6, 150; and Iraq war 45, 130, 131, 132–3, 152 n.33; mandate for NATO military force 79; Russian Federation in 40, 42, 45, 46, 113; and Syrian activities in Lebanon 147, 148, 150

United Russia party 27, 124, 131, 186United States: and Afghanistan 96, 99,

175–6; anti-ballistic missile deployment 61, 63, 186, 187–8; and Balkans 84, 96, 174, 177; and Black Sea regional cooperation 102, 104; and China 164; Cold War defense policy 91; economy 42, 43, 137; Eastern Europe, relations with 188; Europe, relations with 65–7, 80, 84–6, 87–9, 119, 173; and European security frameworks 37, 63, 65, 67, 74, 84–6, 91, 186–7, 190; and Iran 86, 135–7, 140, 141, 142, 144, 145, 146, 147; Middle East, diplomacy in 128,

204 Index129; military presence in Central Asia, campaign against 48; and NATO 56, 57, 61, 65, 73–4, 76, 81–2, 83–6, 87–8, 92, 94–6; France, relations with 61, 85, 88; oil and steel embargo on Japan 21; Poland, relations with 63; power 55–6, 60–1, 65, 87–8, 92; Soviet Union, relations with 74; Syria, relations with 148; and United Nations 85; unilateralism 81, 84, 87–8, 131, 162, 169; Uzbekistan, withdrawal of forces from 26, 48–9; war on terror 45, 51 n.4, 61, 66, 75, 77, 81–2, 94, 116, 127, 162 see also Iraq war; September 11 terrorist attacks; transatlantic division of responsibilities

United States Central Command (CENTCOM) 99

United States–Russian relations 31–2, 42, 45–6, 72, 73, 74, 75, 76, 186; and American missile defense systems 187–8; and CIS 168; and Iran 86, 135–7, 140, 141, 142, 146, 147, 163; Iraq war 129–35, 153 n.38, 189; Putin’s policies 44, 56, 61–2, 65–6, 124, 186; Russian attempts to contain US 60–2, 65–6; and Russian integration with West 161, 162, 163, 165, 170, 171, 173, 176, 177; Russian rapprochement following September 11 attacks 33; and Russia’s “near abroad” 32, 47

UNPROFOR see United Nations Protection Force

Uzbekistan 26, 40, 45, 48–9, 102, 103, 125, 163, 167

Vekhirev, Rem 124Villepin, Dominique de 60Voronin, Vladimir 103

war and democratization 11–13, 19–21Warner, John 74

Warsaw Pact 72, 87, 91, 92, 97Warsaw Pact countries, former 35, 43, 72,

92Washington Treaty (North Atlantic Treaty)

77weapons of mass destruction 91, 94, 108

n.25, 112–13, 120, 127, 137, 143 seealso nuclear weapons

weapons traffi cking see arms traffi ckingWellstone, Paul 74, 89 n.6West, Russian relations with: economic

relations 19; Putin’s policy 29, 31, 44, 57, 59–60, 161, 162; Russian estrangement from West 161–84; Russian leaders’ abandonment of West for Moscow-centered system 97; Russian public opinion on 27, 28, 29, 30, 31; and Russia’s internal sovereignty 55; and Russia’s “near abroad” 47, 48, 50; Yeltsin’s policy 31, 42, 44

World Trade Organization 31World War I 14, 15

Yakovenko, Alexander 134, 136Yandarbiyev, Zelimikhan 127Yanukovich, Viktor 58, 103, 125Yeltsin, Boris: decline in Russian power

under 42–3; Duma, relations with 124; First Chechen war 19; president of the Russian Federation 25, 26, 27, 29; West, policy on 31, 42, 59

Yugoslavia, dissolution of 92Yugoslavia, former 11, 17Yukos 27, 60, 168Yushchenko, Viktor 36, 58, 60, 103,

125

Zawahiri, Ayman 163Zebari, Hoshyar 133zero-sum thinking 46, 97, 105, 164, 168Zhirinovsky, Vladimir 19

aurel braun - nato-russia relations in the 21st century

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