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Russia in Transition; Yeltsin, Putin and now Medvedev |
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Since the fall of the Soviet Union, the United States has been credited as the world’s communications mainspring: a sort of social lubricant in the international dialogue. The entrepreneurial ideas that once passed like classroom whispers between New York and Yokohama, Brisbane and Barbados, Disneyland and Dnipropetrovsk, have multiplied and steadily developed into 2008’s dull roar. Whether you call it ‘Cultural Imperialism’ or ‘The Triumph of Free Speech and Democracy’, the chatter between East and West has never been louder and, critically, never more imbued with a sense of common interests and shared experiences - even if that is because every country now has its own Big Brother, Pop Idol, Harper’s Bazaar, McDonald’s chain, inner-city meth problem, hoards of Simpsons-quoting teenagers, line of ethnically-correct Mattel dolls and swarms of pre-pubescent, prematurely sexualised Paris Hilton emulators.
It’s easy to feel a rapport with each other when we’re all under the thumb of the same US conglomerates.
The cultural might of the US was practically assured when it emerged victorious after the Cold War, that great socio-political talent pageant. Two superpowers went head-to-head, and a shaking world watched with the spectre of nuclear obliteration hanging over their heads (a grim accompaniment to Marx’s spectre of Communism). The US wowed us with its increasingly robust GDP and string of ballsy, charismatic presidents. And Mother Russia? That broad was all show and no substance: investing millions in her space program (all the better to one-up the competition) and even more in her military, but struggling to feed her population and systematically crushing any independent media, lest anyone speak out about how dismal life was within Soviet walls (the equivalent of pointing out a big ripple of cellulite on Miss Oklahoma’s thigh). The Cold War - with its Space Race and military one-upmanship - was one big exercise in Keeping Up Appearances, with Russia cast in the role of the indefatigable Hyacinth Bucket. ‘Where will it all end?’ we thought.
It ended in the late eighties. The Berlin Wall came down and a freed population spilled into Western Europe with the vigorous certainty of winds circling the globe. The former Soviet countries were in disarray, and economic policy-makers brainstormed strategies about how to deal with the ‘Eastern Block problem’. The question was posed with a ruthless cool-headedness only available to one at a distance, comfortably ensconced in a position of power. Like Freud addressing his ‘woman problem’ or a military strategist moving figurines around a board, the brains behind this battle were never at risk of becoming casualties.
Was it any surprise that they chose the harsh option? In the early 1990s, under the guidance of US economist Jeffrey Sachs, the governments of Eastern Europe, Russia and Latin America were prescribed a heavy dose of ‘Shock Therapy’; price controls and government support were to be withdrawn over a very short period. No baby steps. Small businessmen who were accustomed to breaks and benefits suddenly found themselves subject to the vagaries of the market. Companies closed their doors and unemployment soared into the double digits; Russia under Yeltsin was among the hardest hit.
Fast forward to the Putin era. On December 31, 1999, Vlad scored a gig as ‘acting President’ following the resignation of the physically and mentally deteriorating Boris Yeltsin. Putin shifted unceremoniously into the position, but the international media payed rapt attention from the beginning. The clever plutocrat - with his handsome face and sober, level gaze - seemed an improvement over Yeltsin, who kept a grip on power too long after dementia had consolidated its grip on him. Yeltsin’s public appearances in the late nineties were increasingly bizarre; he often seemed drunk or unsteady and astonished journalists by speaking gibberish (he famously told a Stockholm audience that Swedish meatballs remind him of Bjorn Borg’s face). Putin was a rock by comparison, and an intriguing one. His early life reads like something out of Dickens (one of Putin’s brothers ‘died within a few months of birth’; another ’succumbed to diphtheria during the siege of Leningrad’) and his early career reads like - what else? - a spy novel.
One of Putin’s first acts was to sign a decree protecting the ‘outgoing President and his relatives’ from investigation of corruption charges. Whatever conniving Yelstin had managed to cram in during his last bumbling years, he was off scot-free thanks to Putin. The former KGB man was inaugurated President on May 7, 2000. Clearly a great big thank you, scoffed many observers, for being so agreeable. Putin continued to attract criticism throughout his term for, amongst other things, re-nationalising the Russian oil and gas industry, solidifying the power of select oligarchs, systematically weakening the independent media, and brutally crushing the Chechen separatist uprising (though he tried to portray his policies as ‘flexible’).
The Putin era ended on March 2, 2008, when Medvedev stepped up to the plate. ‘What has the new guy inherited,’ analysts are asking. Perhaps a more intriguing question is, ‘Why does Putin remain so popular?’
Russians are savvy and suspicious of power; the last people on earth, you’d think, who’d embrace an administration that so craftily edged the country towards centralised control and oligarchic rule. In truth, the Putin press machine has been successful because this man delivers results. Investment banking firm Goldman Sachs has referred to Russia’s economic recovery as ‘remarkable’. Swiss financial services company UBS calls it ‘awesome’. In 2000 more than 30% percent of Russians lived below the poverty line, compared to only 11.3% of Americans. By 2006 this had dropped to 15% of Russians, compared to 12.3% of Americans. As poverty rates drop, confidence in the national currency is on the rise (from 35% confidence in 2002 to 67% in 2007), along with the number of TVs, radios and recreational items per household (5.2 per household, up from 3.9 in 1995) and average square meters of living space per inhabitant (20.8, compared to 16.8 in 1992).
Russians in the late 00s have morale to spare, disposable income to spend and room to move. Mother Russia’s bosom, which for so many decades resembled a menopausal aunt’s - barren, oppressive and smothering - suddenly looks mighty enticing. The milk ducts have opened and a nation is being weaned. Nowhere is this better encapsulated than in those plummeting poverty rates, cited to death by Putin apologists and the Kremlin camp themselves. They may still be high, but with Putin at the plate, Russian poverty percentages have been slammed into the Western ballpark.
Medvedev has inherited a burgeoning, blossoming nation, but he will have to be wary of a number of obstacles. Russian inflation needs to be curbed and kept in control, especially as the rest of the world encounters economic hiccups. Medvedev will have to deal with criticism that he is part of Russia’s ‘in-crowd’ of business and political interests, and that he was chosen because he will not upset the status quo (Medvedev was Putin’s favoured successor, just as Putin was Yeltsin’s). He will need to address corruption and strengthen the fragile Russian legal system - as a trained lawyer Medvedev is in a good position to do this - if he is to earn the favour of international commentators.
Or perhaps it isn’t that complicated. As Putin has shown, economic results speak for themselves. The last century has been tough, and Russians are interested in glamour, mystique and the good life (or if these aren’t forthcoming, at least a modicum of comfort). Women are already swooning over Medvedev’s soulful brown eyes; if he can keep living standards up he will establish a tentative hold on the population’s affections. Thrown in a few shirtless pictures, some endearing quips and a cosy relationship with the German Chancellor, and he’ll be on his way.
Sandra Hajda is a freelance writer and publisher from Melbourne, Australia. She has degrees in both science and english literature and a special interest in European writing and politics. She is a regular presenter on Melbourne’s classical station 3MBS, and her passion is promoting local arts and artists. She can be reached at hajdasandra@hotmail.com.
