Authors: Gary Kasparov
The other bright spot for the Kremlin was the feeble Western reaction when the Saudis sent troops into Bahrain to help quash the rebellion there in March 2011. Unarmed protesters were shot at close range just days after Obama’s defense secretary Robert Gates met with the Bahraini monarchy. The United States eventually condemned the violence and Secretary of State Hillary Clinton politely asked the Gulf regimes that the US arms and supports, to “show restraint” in demolishing peaceful protests.
The European Parliament did slightly better, condemning the violent repression of demonstrators, but did so in a nonlegislative resolution with no hint of sanctions or other action. Putin had long wondered how far he could go in repressing domestic opposition without causing a significant backlash. In 2011 he learned there was no limit at all, and that live ammunition against Russian protesters was a viable option.
The Western intervention into the Libyan civil war had lessons for other rogue regimes as well. To Iran it said, “Hurry up!” Gaddafi had publicly given up his nuclear ambitions years ago, to much global acclaim. Meanwhile, Kim Jong-il could kill thousands, do whatever he liked, but was untouchable because the North Koreans had ignored all of the “Unacceptable!” cries from the rest of the world and detonated a few buckets of nuclear slop.
In John le Carre’s famous novel
Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy,
spy-master George Smiley cautions an agent on dealing with the KGB: “The only problem arises when it transpires that you’ve been handing Polyakov the crown jewels and getting Russian chicken-feed in return.” The crown jewels of the West are democracy, human rights, and transparency. By cozying up to Putin, Europe betrayed those once sacred contracts for the chicken feed of oil, gas, and everything from automobiles and football teams to actual chickens.
“But wait,” I hear the so-called pragmatists say, “oil and gas are hardly trinkets, and anyway, isn’t economic engagement the best way to improve the Russian standard of living and, eventually, the state of its politics?” This line of thought has been discredited so many times that by now it is obvious that its proponents use it only as a way to avoid admitting they do not have the courage to stand up to a strongman. But let me discredit it one more time.
First, while the Kremlin has shown a willingness to freeze innocent people to death over a contractual dispute, Russia needs Europe’s consumers as much as Europe needs the oil and gas. The pipelines are in place and cannot be redirected. The main alternative client, China, has already driven very favorable long-term deals for cheap Russian energy, so selling there isn’t nearly as profitable as selling to Europe. Putin and his cronies know they have a limited window to pocket as much money as they can and they are not going to risk their precious cash flow, not that they have to take any risks when Europe’s leaders capitulate preemptively.
As for the second argument, just the phrase “economic engagement” should by now leave a bitter taste in the mouth of anyone with a genuine interest in the advancement of human rights. Russia’s elites profited mightily as the price of oil skyrocketed and industries were consolidated into the hands of Putin loyalists. Autocracies share the profits of engagement only as much as necessary to avoid mass societal unrest. When dictators do invest the money they don’t steal into the country, it goes into the security forces and propaganda machine, not liberalization of civil society.
The real impact economic engagement had was the reverse of the effect its apologists defend, namely the export of corruption from Russia to its “partners” in the free world. All that oil money has done its job abroad as well, buying respect where it cannot be earned. The Winter Olympics were purchased for Putin’s beloved Sochi—the security nightmare and environmental catastrophe of such an event in the small subtropical resort in the Caucasus somehow escaped the International Olympic Committee’s eagle-eyed evaluation teams. Then the World Cup was checked off Putin’s shopping list, though it’s hard to say which side is the less transparent, the Kremlin or FIFA.
I did not use the word “mafia” in a casual way in chapter 8. It is simply a more accurate way of defining the Putin regime than traditional political terms. The boss is the man who can provide protection, who can make deals with the authorities and keep the money flowing in. In this picture, Europe and America are the authorities, the only ones that could stand up to the mafia. But the boss, Putin, has them in his pocket and as long as he keeps the money coming in he will stay right where he is.
It is barely worth mentioning the attempt by some in the West to revive the old sport of Kremlinology by conjecturing on the balance of power between Medvedev and Putin. What matters is that the policies did not change, regardless of the nameplates on the office doors. At no point during Medvedev’s presidency was there ever a sign of the cherished liberalization that even some naive Russians were anticipating.
The final nail in the coffin of the liberalization myth was pounded home by a Moscow judge’s gavel at the end of the second trial of Mikhail Khodorkovsky in December 2010. In January 2011, yet more protestors were jailed in Moscow for participating in a rally in defense of free assembly, including former Yeltsin deputy prime minister Boris Nemtsov. The rally was part of Strategy 31, which held sanctioned events every thirty-first day on the calendar to protest the Putin government’s unwillingness to grant the rights that are so clear when read in our constitution.
The one European stalwart that seemed to have a bit of backbone was the UK, but the new Tory government was strangely eager to let bygones be bygones. The first case of international nuclear terrorism, the November 2006 murder of British citizen Alexander Litvinenko with the radioactive isotope polonium-210, chilled relations between Britain and a Russian government that quickly gave safe harbor to the prime suspect in the killing. In 2008, the chief executive of the TNK-BP joint venture, a union of flagship UK and Russian companies, fled Russia after a humiliating defeat in a battle for control.
The same man, Robert Dudley, then became CEO of British Petroleum. Just a few weeks after the Khodorkovsky verdict, Dudley, surrounded by representatives of the new Cameron government, proudly announced a stock swap and Arctic exploration deal with Rosneft. Perhaps it was just a cruel accident of timing, but Rosneft is the Russian state company that was the beneficiary of the seizing and looting of Khodorkovsky’s company Yukos after he was jailed. It is only a small stretch to suggest that BP was therefore in possession of stolen goods. But cold cash washes away a multitude of sins.
It is hard to say if BP was so eager to cozy up to the Kremlin because the company was having such a rough time on the other side of the Atlantic, where former CEO Tony Hayward was pilloried for the massive Louisiana oil spill. The Americans, at least, looked closely at the BP-Rosneft deal, with US congressman Ed Markey memorably referring to BP as “Bolshoi Petroleum.” Meanwhile, Gazprom and Shell announced a joint alliance for exploration. I was only waiting for a proud David Cameron to return from Moscow waving a sheaf of contracts and announcing, “Profit for our time!”
Europe was always quick to criticize Alexander Lukashenko, famous as “the last dictator of Europe,” which must get a laugh from the Kremlin. There is little on Lukashenko’s resume of repression that would shame Vladimir Putin, but I suppose huge reserves of oil, gas, and cash can do a lot for one’s image. Perhaps if a major oil field were discovered near Minsk, Lukashenko would also be invited to sing karaoke with Hollywood stars and go to parties with Silvio Berlusconi the way Putin was.
It is not impossible to imagine Europe as an equal partner with Russia and not just a necessary evil. While that will never happen with Putin in charge, there are ways Europe’s leaders could both stand up to the Kremlin and promote regime change. In a mafia, loyalty matters, but only as long as the boss can guarantee that the money will keep flowing and that he can protect his loyal soldiers. Staying on good terms with Western Europe and America, where Putin’s oligarchs also prefer to spend their time and their wealth, is therefore essential. After all, why become a Russian billionaire if you are confined to the shell of a country you looted to become one?
A small circle of oligarchs control Russia and the caste of former and current state security service operatives, known as the
siloviki,
who occupy most of the power centers. Holding that group accountable on a personal level-digging into the legality of their investments, cancelling their precious Schengen visas— would send the message that Putin is no longer so influential, that he can no longer guarantee his allies’ fortunes and easy access to the good life abroad. It is a way of targeting Putin and his regime without punishing the Russian people.
I had been promoting such a course of action for many years on both sides of the Atlantic, at least as far back as 2007, when it suddenly began to look like a real possibility in 2011. This was good news, but the reason was rooted in tragedy.
Senate 1039, the Sergei Magnitsky Rule of Law Accountability Act of 2011, was designed to go after the visas and financial assets of those responsible for the “detention, abuse, or death” of Sergei Magnitsky, the whistle-blowing young lawyer who died in Russian police custody in 2009 after exposing hundreds of millions of dollars in fraud by Russian officials. The act could also be expanded to cover individuals implicated in similar cases of fraud and human rights abuse. It owed its existence to the astonishing campaign of the indefatigable Bill Browder, Magnitsky’s former employer, and “a few good men” in Congress, especially its sponsor, Senator Ben Cardin of Maryland.
The version of what everyone called the “Magnitsky Act” finally came out of Congress as the “Russia and Moldova Jack-son-Vanik Repeal and Sergei Magnitsky Rule of Law Accountability Act of 2012.” It was the very rare piece of US legislation with overwhelming bipartisan support, so it was curious that the Obama administration seemed bent on thwarting it. (It passed the House on November 16, 2012, with a 365-43 vote and the Senate three weeks later with a 92-4 vote.) After trying to stop it from getting out of Congress for over a year, Obama signed it into law on December 14, 2012.
Apparently the White House was worried about disturbing its cozy relationship with the Putin dictatorship and so had the State
Department create its own list of banned Russian officials from the Magnitsky case, but without releasing the names on it. Of course publicizing the names was the entire point. “Secret deterrent” is an oxymoron.
Or perhaps Obama, who managed to keep it in Congress and off his desk until just after his reelection, was afraid to lend credence to the words of his 2012 opponent, Mitt Romney, who in a March interview on CNN had said of Russia, “Without question our number one geopolitical foe. They fight every cause for the world’s worst actors. The idea that he has some more flexibility in mind for Russia is very, very troubling indeed.” Obama ridiculed Romney for the remark, even preparing a debate zinger about how the “1980s want their foreign policy back.”
You may remember that Romney’s shot at Obama’s flexibility targeted a “hot mic” moment Obama had had a few days earlier at a summit in South Korea. Obama was overheard telling President Medvedev that “on all these issues, but particularly missile defense, this, this can be solved, but it’s important for him to give me space. This is my last election. After my election, I have more flexibility.” (The “him” was of course Putin.) Equally revealing was Medvedev’s robotic reply: “I understand. I will transmit this information to Vladimir.”
Since Putin invaded Ukraine in early 2014, the phrase “Romney was right” has become a motto among those wanting to bash Obama’s foreign policy. Romney was right, certainly, and he followed it up with an article in
Foreign Policy
magazine detailing how Obama had dropped the ball on Russia. An excerpt:
Without extracting meaningful concessions from Russia, [Obama] abandoned our missile defense sites in Poland. He granted Russia new limits on our nuclear arsenal. He capitulated to “Russia’s” demand that a United Nations resolution on the Iranian nuclear-weapons program exclude crippling sanctions. Moscow has rewarded these gifts with nothing but obstructionism at the United Nations on a whole raft of issues. It has continued to arm the regime of Syria’s vicious dictator and blocked multilateral efforts to stop the ongoing carnage there. Across the board, it has been a thorn in our side on questions vital to America’s national security. For three years, the sum total of President Obama’s policy toward Russia has been: “We give, Russia gets.”
Bingo. I’ve added to that fine list here already and so, as with McCain in 2008, you can guess where my US presidential election sympathies lay in 2012. I wasn’t aware of it at the time, but in researching for this book I found a passage in Romney’s 2010 book,
No Apology: The Case for American Greatness,
that I would like to share because it mirrors some of the thoughts on evil that I wrote in the introduction: