by Logan Bayroff
In the wake of Vladimir Putin’s announcement that he will once again stand for president in Russia’s upcoming spring elections, and with the limit on presidential terms extended from four years to six, Russians face the prospect of another twelve years under the reign of their peerless leader.
While Putin’s enemies bemoan his now all but inevitable return to the presidency, what should have been the triumphal culmination of a master plan to retain his hold on the Kremlin could in fact prove to be the start of his political downfall. By dispensing with the cover of his protégé, current president Dmitri Medvedev, and by exposing him as nothing more than a placeholder for his own return to supreme power, the ex-KGB man now faces full responsibility for Russia’s ills at a time when the future does not look promising.
Already, there is mounting evidence that the country is heading in the wrong direction. Extreme dependence on oil revenues has made the entire economy highly unstable and subject to a continual boom and bust cycle. Even more worrisome is the atmosphere of corruption and legal inconsistency that pervades Russian life and scares away desperately needed foreign investment. These underlying flaws have compounded the effects of the current global financial crisis on Russia, as panicked investors have sought to dump holdings of Russian assets.
The general stagnation of the past few years has already caused Putin’s approval rating to dip drastically among the Russian public, now standing at 68 percent. Though sky-high by Western standards, the number is down significantly from highs in the mid-eighties two years ago. Putin is no doubt eyeing this downturn warily, well aware that Russia has a long history of authoritarian rulers – many of whom experienced surprisingly rapid falls from grace. Both Mikhail Gorbachev and Boris Yeltsin went from being extremely popular to objects of general disgust quite rapidly. Without real progress, the propaganda machine can only run for so long before losing steam.
Ironically, Putin’s initial appeal during his rise to power was his image as a sober strongman who would cut down on the rampant private-sector lawlessness that characterized the Yeltsin years. Yet the return of ruthless state power – though perhaps less messy than the laissez-faire free-for-all of the nineties – has actually increased instability and fear, especially of late.
The sudden announcement of Putin’s return only added to the feelings of desperation and even outrage among major power circles. Aleksei Kudrin, the reformist Finance Minister popular among liberals and in the West for his sober fiscal realism, declared in the wake of Putin’s announcement that he would not serve in the new government. His departure sends an alarming signal that the present situation will only get worse.
Such pessimism has already begun to take root among opposition elements, who view Putin’s return to the presidency as a blow against long-awaited change and progress. Russian liberals, including a new generation of online activists, have had their last naïve hopes for change shattered and appear ready to speak out louder than ever before. Even more problematic for Putin, the realists and the moneymen appear to have grown tired of his characteristic tactics of nationalist rhetoric and populist economics, which have not yielded consistent prosperity or growth.
As long as Putin stayed behind the scenes in the prime minister’s chair, he could point to the clean-cut young figure of Medvedev and pretend that all was well with Russian democracy and development. The bright-eyed former lawyer largely played his part well, especially in the beginning, pushing modernization and anti-corruption programs while speaking earnestly about the need for Russia to transform itself. At times Medvedev even seemed to openly oppose his mentor. He publically rebuked Putin for his harsh criticism of Western intervention in Libya and even dropped hints about pardoning Putin’s bête noir, the jailed oligarch Mikhail Khodorkovsky. But all verbal posturing aside, Medvedev has not significantly challenged Putin on any actual policy or program. Although forced to accept NATO involvement in Libya, Russia is now blocking U.N. intervention in Syria, Khodorkovsky remains jailed, and Medvedev’s promised diplomatic “reset” in diplomacy with the West has been illusory. The fact that Medvedev himself was the one to publically announce Putin’s nomination for the presidency humiliatingly underscored his subservient position.
Putin could have chosen to continue exercising control from backstage, with Medvedev or another disciple as front man. Instead, returning now to the prime role at a time of burgeoning discontent, he will attempt to rely further on the political ruthlessness and personal prestige that have served to make him a cult figure and one of the most powerful men in the world over the last decade. But with Russia’s fortunes on the decline, and at a time when patience with dictatorial strongmen worldwide has worn thin, one has to wonder – can he last another decade more?
