This article is a continuation of last week’s topic, the various “sick men of Europe.” Last week’s focus was France and Italy; this week will cover Russia.
Russia is by far the most disturbing case among the three. Its ills are not only innumerably varied but also fundamentally more worrisome. Whereas France and Italy face largely economic issues tinged with a bit of political doubt, Russia faces an all-out reversal of its political fortunes and the subsequent consequences tied to just such a happening.
On April 14, a loose coalition of the Kremlin’s critics known as “Other Russia” staged a protest in central Moscow. There was nothing striking about the protesters themselves: Other Russia is made up of the usual mix of journalists, communists, environmentalists, political centrists, and former Kremlin advisors dissatisfied with President Vladimir Putin’s way of doing things. As an interesting side note, former world chess champion Garry Kasparov is now an important political figure in the opposition.
What grabbed Russians and foreigners alike was the government’s response to the protests. At both the Moscow protest and a smaller demonstration in St. Petersburg, the police and other government forces far outnumbered the number of protesters. A correspondent with The Economist described the scene:
“…reinforcements were summoned from outside, perhaps because they would be less squeamish about pummeling the locals. ‘Are you going to beat us all?’, an old woman asked an officer in battle gear, as protesters were funneled away from tourists on Nevsky Prospekt. Shortly afterwards they did. When a group reached Vitebsky railway station, the OMON blocked their path, banged their riot shields and charged, skull-cracked and arrested at random. People waiting for buses and drunks sleeping on benches were caught in the frenzy…Russian riot police-known as the OMON-dragged a young man holding a bunch of flowers off the pavement near Pushkin Square in central Moscow. As he was thrown into a van, he braced his feet against the doors, to cheers from the crowd, but to the evident ire of the police. The doors were repeatedly slammed against his legs. An officer who climbed inside then appeared to beat him.”
How could such horrific scenes happen in what is supposed to be a modern and democratic nation, a nation that holds a veto on the United Nations Security Council and almost all of Europe’s energy resources in its oppressive grasp?
The answer can largely be put down to President Putin, a black belt in the martial art of judo. Those who study judo use quick, practiced movements to throw their opponents off balance and then pin them to the ground using various pins and choke holds. It is an apt analogy for his political tactics: since taking office in May 2000, Putin has greatly reasserted centralized control over the law and the military and extended the government’s iron reach to almost every corner of Russian society, notably Russian business.
And he has done it by using both blitzkrieg government attacks and subtle strangulations; witness the orchestrated government attack on the Russian energy company Yukos in late 2003 through July 2004.
Mr Putin is a democratically elected president but shows disconcertedly authoritarian leanings; he draws grumbles from some business and political elite but is wildly popular with the people of Russia. It inevitably leads one to a dilemma of democracy: If a democratically elected government begins to unravel the underpinnings of democracy, should the will of the people be respected and let the government remain, or should democracy itself be valued and the government undermined? When the substance and process of democracy come into conflict, which should take priority?
Although compelling arguments could be made to value the democratic process, in the long run it is the substance of democracy itself that should be protected.
To be sure, condemning a democratically elected government risks opening a political Pandora’s box; American and especially Western European criticism would provide new ammunition to Putin’s formidable public relations office. But democracy is valuable in and of itself because of what it empowers the people of a nation to do: choose their own governance. The policies emanating from a democratic government do not enter into the equation.
Although respecting a democratically elected authoritarian government would, in the short term, uphold this principle of political freedom, it would in the long run deprive the people of their right to choose their government. This is ultimately the point of democracy; the harm of removing it would far outweigh the harm incurred by undermining a democratic government.
For these reasons, the European Union and the United States should continue to voice their concerns about the creeping authoritarianism of Putin and actively encourage his government to cease its subjection of business, repeal the president’s ability to pass laws by decree and devolve certain political authority back to the people. Of the three “sick” nations in Europe, it is Russia that is terminally ill.
About the writer:
John Jose is a first-year finance, economics and international studies major. He can be reached at [email protected].
