Unipolar Politics: Realism and State Strategies After the Cold War, by Ethan B. Kapstein and Michael Mastanduno (eds.)

 

7. Realism and Russian Strategy after the Collapse of the USSR

Neil MacFarlane

From 1993 to 1996, Russia’s relations with the West gradually deteriorated while Russia reasserted itself at the expense of the other newly independent states on the territory of the former Soviet Union. Some have explained this in terms of the increasing influence of realism in Russian foreign policy after a short honeymoon of liberal institutionalism. ₁ Others have contested this interpretation. For example, Robert Legvold has taken exception to what he perceived to be the deterministic quality of realist argumentation and its excessive focus on systemic variables. Policy consistent with the dictates of realism, in his view, was not systemically determined, but was largely a product of domestic politics and the choices of the Russian leadership; national leaderships could choose either “Waltzian” or “Wilsonian” definitions of self-interest, since “self-interest is a highly subjective matter and honest people can disagree over the best way to achieve it”:

The extent to which realist theory attempts to turn it into an objective matter by basing self-interest on the struggle for power also offers no way out . . .There is, in short, nothing about the essence of international politics or the imperatives created by states that says, at this juncture, facing the problems that it does, Russia should better pursue a Monroe Doctrine in the near abroad and a droit de régard [sic] in Central Europe than seek international regimes and multilateral machinery protecting its interests in these areas. ₂

Legvold’s objection is interesting and challenging. To what extent was and is evolving Russian foreign policy consistent with the deductive propositions and predictive dimension of international realism? To what extent does it depart from these aspects of realist theory? And how does one explain both the congruence of theory and practice and the departures of the one from the other?

Closer analysis of the problem reveals other puzzles. First, given the frequent assumption in realist theory that the state is a rational unitary actor, how does one account for realist outcomes in Russian behavior where the state is hardly unitary or monolithic, where there is a wide diversity of opinion on the meaning of “the national interest,” ₃ and where the state’s control over Russian persons and organizations active internationally is often notional?

Second, Russian foreign policy is played out in at least two more or less distinct arenas: the other former Soviet republics, and the broader international system. The regional and global agendas of Russian policymakers operating on a realist calculus of international relations may diverge. The pursuit of a realist regional agenda might conflict with that of a broader realist agenda toward international actors outside the former Soviet Union. How, then, would one account from a realist perspective for the choices of policymakers?

In this chapter, I begin with a summary of basic propositions of realism concerning the behavior of states in the international system, and how, in deductive terms, these propositions generate hypotheses regarding Russian behavior. I follow this with a discussion of the evolution of Russian foreign policy in the post-Soviet era. I do not deal in detail with Soviet foreign policy during the Cold War. Although the exploration of continuity and change between the Cold War and post-Cold War eras might be useful in assessing the significance of systemic and structural influences on Russian foreign policy, space is limited, and contemporary Russia is a product in large part of the radical discontinuity constituted by the end of the Cold War.

I argue that the distribution of power at the regional level has favoured a strategy of assertion and consolidation by Russia in the “near abroad.” At the broader systemic level, the rapid decay of Russia’s position in international relations leaves it with two options: balancing and bandwagoning. The balancing option has proven difficult to exercise in the current international system. Consequently, realist theory would suggest a continuation of the retreat from the confrontational rhetoric and policy of the Cold War and of the more accommodative behavior characteristic of the Gorbachev era. This is also favored by Russia’s dependence on the other great powers for material assistance and the maintenance of status. This does not imply simple surrender to the desires of the West in general and the United States in particular. But one would expect that—to the degree that there is a correlation between the deterioration in state power and the pursuit of cooperative behavior—as Russia’s power declined, the cooperative content of its approach to the West would grow.

The two strategic agendas are in tension with each other. Russian behavior follows the predictive propositions of realism within the former Soviet region. It is not entirely consistent with predictions derived from Russia’s changing position in the global balance. While Russia’s economy continues to contract and its military power continues to atrophy, it has abandoned the liberal internationalist focus of its foreign policy and is behaving in an increasingly confrontational manner. In particular, it has been unwilling to curb its regional ambitions in order to stabilize its relations with the United States and NATO, ₄ while farther abroad, its attitude on arms transfers to powers hostile to the West, on the conflict in the former Yugoslavia, and on NATO expansion, among other issues, suggests that the limits on its willingness to cooperate are narrowing. Russia is in fact willing to challenge the West on such issues, even if this risks substantial complication in its relationship with Western states.

This apparent departure from the theory may reflect significant second image influences. However, it also reflects the fact that Russia retains substantial resources of power in international relations that are often missed at first glance. Notably, Russia’s weakness is itself a source of strength in the relationship with other great powers in the system. Recognition of these sources of power helps resolve the apparent tension between global and regional agendas and goes some distance toward explaining the apparent departure of Russia from the agenda dictated by its deteriorating position in the post-Cold War distribution of power.

 

The Theoretical Framework

The question addressed in this chapter is whether realism can account for Russian behavior in international relations better than alternative theoretical perspectives, such as, at the systemic level, neoliberal institutionalism, or, at the unit level, those focusing on domestic politics and political culture.

The basic propositions of realism are highly contested, and the theoretical framework itself admits of considerable pluralism. Many realists would so characterize themselves without accepting the structural revisions of a Kenneth Waltz. For “classical” realists, the essence of international relations lies in the egoistic pursuit of national interest in an essentially anarchic environment, rather than in the determining influence of structure on the choices of states. It allows an important place for judgment and for motivation in the explanation of outcomes. ₅ To take a second example, some would argue that state-centricity is essential to the theory. Others would argue that it is an “analytical convenience.” As one author put it with reference to older exemplars of realism: “State-centrism is a superfluous principle in classical realism: the predominance of power and self-interest in international affairs abides, with all its consequences, whether states are the sole actors in that realm or not.” ₆

The same author rightly notes that for “classical” realists, the assumption of rationality is not necessary, and much of the realist literature gives space in explanation to such variables as motivation and judgment, and, for that matter, to speculation regarding human nature, as is evident in the work of Hans Morgenthau and Reinhold Niebuhr. ₇

Despite the considerable pluralism in realist perspectives, most would accept the following propositions as basic to the realist perspective on international relations. First, the primary actor in international relations is the state. The state is capable of unitary and rational action. It operates in a systemic framework characterized by anarchy; that is, states are autonomous actors in a system without a supreme authority above them. Resources in this system are finite and scarce. The scarcity of resources in the system dictates competition for control over them. The absence of an authority above states means that they must rely on their own devices to assure their security. As Paul Kennedy put it in a discussion of the meaning of grand strategy:

The history, geography, and culture of each country on our planet are unique . . .but there are some unifying elements, deriving from our common humanity. One of them is the demand placed on all the polities of this world, whether ancient empires or modern democracies, to devise ways of enabling them to survive and flourish in an anarchic and often threatening international order that oscillates between peace and war, and is always changing. ₈

This in turn accounts for the fact that, in the realist tradition, international politics is essentially about power and the competition for it. Some have argued that national interest itself can be boiled down to the pursuit of power. ₉ Given that power is a relational concept, states are sensitive to relative gains in the distribution of power. ₁₀ This poses considerable constraints on their capacity to cooperate, since the gains from cooperation are not necessarily distributed equally among cooperating states. The significance of relative gains and, consequently, the constraints on cooperation are likely to be particularly strong in the realm of military affairs (as opposed to, say, trade). Charles Lipson pointed out in this context that regimes are much rarer in security than in economic affairs, because the “immediately and potentially grave losses to a player who attempts to cooperate without reciprocation,” and the “risks associated with inadequate monitoring of others’ decisions and actions” were much higher in the former than in the latter realm. He noted that in this context the incentive to defect is higher, concluding that “it is this special peril of defection, not the persistence of anarchy as such, that makes security preparation such a constant concern.” ₁₁

Given that, according to the theory, states are inherently self-interested competitive entities, and given the intimate connection between wealth and power, sensitivity to relative gains is evident in the economic realm as well. Consequently, and ceteris paribus, prospects for cooperation are limited here as well. Moreover, economic instruments can and will be used by states in the competition for power when military means are, for whatever reason, deemed inappropriate. Strategy, the effort to relate means to ends, includes both military and economic dimensions. ₁₂

In addition, most states pursue both welfare and power. Assuming that the two objectives are distinct yet simultaneously pursued, the basic realist point is that the principal objective of states is to maximize their own utility and, equally important, prevent relative decline in their own utility relative to that of other states. That is, the utility functions of states are not independent, but interrelated.

Given the uneven distribution of capabilities in the system and the uneven development of states, few states have the capacity to assure their survival on their own. As Steven van Evera and Stephen Walt have argued, in seeking cooperative solutions to their security dilemma, states do have a choice. They can bandwagon with, or balance against, potential threats in their environment. Most realists would agree that states balance against, rather than bandwagon with, threats, because this choice carries a higher probability of maintaining autonomy. ₁₃ This presumes, however, the existence of similarly interested states with whom one can balance. Moreover, it is generally accepted that weak states (i.e., “states with illegitimate leaders, weak governmental institutions, and/or little ability to mobilize economic resources”) are likely to bandwagon, because, in part, of the severity of domestic threats to them. ₁₄

There is a further, dynamic aspect to realism, concerning not so much the position at any given time of a state in the system, but trends over time in the distribution of power and their effects on state strategy. Rising powers attempt to appropriate resources at the expense of other states. Declining powers attempt to save what they can through preventive war, retrenchment, or appeasement. ₁₅ One might expect this strand of the discussion to have particular relevance to Russia, given the dramatic change in its position in the global balance of power. Since 1991, its position has been one of weakness and the trend has been one of decline.

It is also worth noting that much of the structural realist literature focuses not so much on the details of a single state’s approach to international relations—as I do in this chapter—as on the patterned quality of international relations in general. Waltz, among others, has stressed that his is not a theory of foreign policy; its focus is on the structure of the international system. He would, I suspect, be among the first to admit that there is a substantial range of choice for states in the international system. Classical realism is more congenial to this project, as it leaves substantial room for the characteristics of specific states and the motivations and judgments of their leaders.

My own perspective on realism is minimalist and nondeterminist. It is realist in the belief that states in general act in a self-interested fashion to further their own ends (survival, welfare) in an anarchic system. They seek to retain or expand their power and control over resources. They are sensitive to their relative position in the system and to trends affecting that position. Beyond these basic propositions, other motivations may intrude into the calculus of decision. How leaders relate means to these ends is a matter of judgment. Both dimensions leave considerable space for domestic political influences and leadership characteristics to affect the choices and behavior of states. Systemic characteristics and environmental factors constrain choice and predispose states to certain kinds of patterned behavior, but they do not determine anything.

One potential problem with this analysis and with realism in general is that of nonfalsifiability. Self-interested behavior of almost any type (viz. balancing, bandwagoning, confrontation, and appeasement) may be rendered consistent with the theory. Indeed, the simultaneous pursuit of all of these alternatives in different contexts and on different issues may be explained in realist terms. One is left wondering what the theory could not explain. I address this problem in greater detail later in this chapter, and suggest a number of actual or potential policies that could falsify the realist perspective.

 

The Application of Realist Theory to Russian Foreign Policy

What does this discussion of international realism imply for Russia? It emerged from the Cold War as a weak state internally. Its position in the balance of power had deteriorated rapidly and substantially. Russia’s military position and alliance structure in Europe had largely collapsed while that of its principal post-World War II adversary remained largely intact. The collapse of the USSR deprived Russia of control over its immediate periphery. The discrediting of Marxism-Leninism had stripped the Soviet state of its ideological basis, requiring the definition of an alternative form of legitimation. The economy was in free fall, with a 39 percent decline in GDP from 1990–93, and a further 16 percent decline in the first quarter of 1994. ₁₆ Signs of growth returned only in 1996–97, and these were stalled further by the consequences of instability in emerging markets in the last months of 1997 and through 1998.

Russia and the Newly Independent States

On the other hand, power is relative and relational, and the situation of Russia’s newly independent neighbors, with the possible exception of the Baltic republics, was even worse. (See Tables 7.1 and 7.2.)

It should be acknowledged that, in many instances, these data are approximations. However, the point of the table is to give a picture of the relative power and power potential of the former Soviet states. There is no reason to believe that the lack of precision in data acquisition biases the results sufficiently to draw into question the accuracy of the basic picture.

The first aspect to note in this table is the sheer difference in size, and therefore, potential power, between Russia and the rest. The second is that, although the decline in GNP and the rate of inflation in the Russian economy have been notable, they are hardly the most impressive in the bunch. One need only compare Russian inflation with that of Ukraine, the second most powerful state in the region, to grasp this point.

In assessing the relative economic power of the Russian Federation in the former Soviet space, however, one should look beyond the gross indicators of economic weight and performance to examine the nature of dependencies among the constituent republics of the USSR at the time of dissolution. The spatial structure of production and exchange in the USSR greatly favored the Russian Federation. Infrastructure was routed from the republics to the center with the result that very few links to the outside world not controlled by Russia existed, with the exception of the western republics. The other republics, moreover, were (and in a number of instances still are) heavily trade dependent on the Russian republic. There is no question that Russian was sensitive to disruption of trade with the other republics. However, the impact of disruption or diversion for Russia and its neighbors was asymmetric. The other republics were in most cases more susceptible to the vulnerabilities of asymmetric interdependence, in large part as a result of the focused nature of their markets and the high degree of specialization in production.

Similar comments can be made about the balance of military power in the region. Russia possesses a massive military advantage over its neighbors. Although the state of repair of much of the equipment in the Russian Federation is subject to question, the readiness of many of its units dubious, and (to judge from Chechnya) their combat effectiveness less than ideal, the same is true of the militaries of the other former Soviet republics. They suffer the additional problem that many of their officers were (and are) of Russian extraction. The demise of the USSR left substantial (though decreasing) numbers of Russian troops on the soil of the other republics. Leaving aside the jointly controlled forces in Turkmenistan, more than 90,000 personnel in Russian-controlled military units are in the other former Soviet republics (mainly in Ukraine, Armenia, Georgia, Moldova, and Tajikistan). ₁₇ Azerbaijan is the only former Soviet republic outside the Baltics that is free of Russian military forces. ₁₈ For the most part, these units are far more formidable than the armies of their host countries. All of this leaves aside the question of nuclear weapons. By 1997, Russia was the only remaining nuclear power in the regional system.

Arguably, Russia possessed certain sociopolitical advantages as well. In contrast to many of the other former Soviet republics, Russia did not have a significant problem with compactly settled ethnic minorities, with the exception of the Northern Caucasian jurisdictions. While much was made of the possibility that Russia might go the way of the former Soviet Union, dissolving into ethnically based subordinate jurisdictions, such an expectation ignores certain aspects of the ethno-demography of the Federation. There are eleven autonomous republics within the Russian Federation in which Russians are not a majority of the population. With the exception of those in the Northern Caucasus, they are surrounded by areas in which Russians are a majority. Together these autonomous jurisdictions constitute approximately 13.9 million people, or 9 percent of the total population of 147.3 million at the time of the 1989. The same census reported that some 83 percent of the total population of the Russian Federation were ethnic Russians.

Although the war in Chechnya demonstrated that, in this particular region of the Russian Federation, intercommunal violence could cause substantial pain, the potential for effective challenge to the territorial integrity of the Russian state on the part of minorities is very limited. ₁₉ The contrast with Georgia, for example, or, for that matter, Ukraine, is striking. As we will see, the ethnic diversity of the populations of many of Russia’s former Soviet neighbors creates vulnerabilities that are comparatively easy to exploit. One element of that diversity, in fact, presents particularly attractive opportunities for the Russian Federation. The russophone diaspora of some 25 million people distributed throughout the former Soviet Union, although in some respects a liability, represents a significant potential resource in Russia’s policy toward its neighbors. ₂₀

If one accepts Gilpin’s proposition that a state will expand at the expense of other members of the system until the perceived costs of such expansion equal the perceived benefits, then Russia would be likely to expand its influence at the expense of its neighbors in the region. ₂₁ The distribution of power in the region favors a revisionist strategy on the part of Russia. Sensitivity to the possibility of relative gains by powers external to the post-Soviet space that might take advantage of the region’s confusion to establish themselves would strengthen this conclusion. ₂₂ Finally, as Russian analysts themselves have argued, the reestablishment of a position of leadership in the former Soviet region may be a prerequisite for reestablishment of the global stature of Russia. ₂₃

Such a strategy would seem particularly attractive since the weaker neighbors of Russia were perceived to be generating negative externalities for Russia in the form of migration that the Russian Federation lacked the resources to absorb, economic dislocation as a result of the rupture of links of interdependence, and potential spillover of local conflict outside the Federation into border regions of Russia. In addition, Russia faced serious problems resulting from the absence of established and policed borders with its neighbors. Control of narcotics and arms trafficking, for example, required effective border interdiction. There were no effective borders within the territory of the former Soviet Union between Russia and the other republics. Such facilities existed on the former Soviet borders that fell for the most part under the jurisdiction of other former Soviet republics.

To summarize, realist theory would suggest, all other things being equal, that the distribution of power weighted toward the Russian Federation and the negative consequences of lack of control over its neighbors would favor a policy of assertion of Russian power at the expense of the Federation’s neighbors. Russia would attempt to use political, military, and economic instruments to control the other former Soviet republics.

 

Russia and the Rest

Within the global arena the Russian position was far more problematic. During the Cold War, Russia had been the core of a multinational state and associated alliance system that formed one of the two poles of the international system. The USSR was generally recognized in military terms as at least the equal, if not the superior, of the United States. Although the economic performance of the Soviet Union and its allies left much to be desired, particularly as the dilemmas of transition from extensive to intensive economic growth in centrally planned systems began to take their toll, the USSR nonetheless was the center of one of two competing economic systems in the global economy.

This position began to erode considerably in the late 1980s. Owing to internal crisis and a reconceptualization of its place in the international system, the USSR implemented a substantial retrenchment from its alliance commitments in Eastern Europe and its farther flung commitments in the Third World. The position collapsed in 1991 with the implosion of the Soviet state. In the meantime, after a recession at the beginning of the 1990s, the Western economies recovered and continued healthy growth into the 1990s. The combination of shrinkage in Russia and stasis and then expansion in the West rapidly widened the economic gap between the two. Russia is now substantially dependent on Western financial resources to stabilize its budget, and resuscitate its economic base.

The withdrawal from forward bases in the former German Democratic Republic, the former Czechoslovakia, Poland, and Hungary fundamentally altered the place of Russia in the European conventional military balance. The collapse of the Warsaw Pact deprived the USSR of its principal allies. The scrambling of former Warsaw Pact states—and, for that matter, many of the non-Russian former Soviet republics—for inclusion in Western political (the Council of Europe), economic (the EU), and military (NATO) multilateral structures posed the prospect of a substantial expansion of the sphere of influence of the Western alliance at the expense of Russia. The Russian fleet was in port, its blue water capability rusting away, while the army lacked the funds properly to house and feed, let alone train, its units. The incapacity of the Russian state to sustain levels of military expenditure has had a profound impact on the readiness of Russian nuclear and conventional forces. The consequences of the fiscal crisis in the Russian defense sector are evident in the poor performance of land forces in Chechnya.

In short, there has been a profound global erosion in the Russia’s position. Realist theory suggests that a state in such circumstances, and concerned about its deteriorating position, would seek to balance against the United States and its Western allies.

The problem was that the external balancing option was weak. The power-political advantages—from the Russian perspective—of balancing through alliance with lesser powers such as Iraq, Iran, North Korea, and/or Cuba were (and are) hard to fathom. The logical candidate is China, which is emerging as a key economic and military actor in the Pacific Rim and which has problems of its own with the West. There are other more specific reasons why Russia might seek substantial improvement in its relations with China. Notably, Russia has a long frontier with China that it cannot afford to defend. China provides a substantial market both for Siberian natural resources and Russian armaments. China is also a source for light manufactured goods and agricultural products for the Russian Far East, allowing the latter to compensate for supply problems along the west-east axis of the Russian transportation system. Finally, both Russia and China share an interest in the stability of the new Central Asian states, since both are vulnerable to the spillover of ethnically and religiously based disorder there. ₂₄ Moreover, as the events of 1996–97 in Xinjiang suggest, China is facing a destabilizing demonstration effect of independence in Central Asia. Arguably, all these factors favor rapprochement between the two states.

However, although China’s relations with the West are strained on an array of issues from human rights through China’s military buildup to its trading practises, the creation of an alternative pole in the system—based on an alliance between Russia and China—would require a level of tension in China’s relations with its Western and Asian economic partners that is difficult to conceive, given the priorities of China’s leadership in current circumstances. China requires orderly economic and stable politico-military relations with Western states to continue its surge of growth.

Moreover, for Russia, China is as much a threat as it is an answer to the country’s security problems. The demographic and economic weight of China is exercising an increasing economic pull on the eastern regions of the Russian Federation. The regions bordering China are underpopulated and their population continues to shrink as a result of emigration. There is considerable illegal Chinese immigration into the Russian Far East. ₂₅ The difference between Russian and Chinese rates of economic growth suggests that Russia will be left ever farther behind in the economic balance between the two states. Russia and China have a long history of conflict over these areas and of cultural animosity. This gives the Chinese reason for concern over the possibilities of a nationalist turn in Russian politics and of Russian recovery to a point where Russia might once again seek to assert itself in the Far Eastern region. For all these reasons, there are, in the abstract, significant limits on the attractiveness for each side of reliance on the other. The predictive dimension of realism in this context would suggest a limited rapprochement that falls short of a full balancing strategy.

The limitations on balancing options, coupled with the decline in Russia’s position in the distribution of power and Russia’s dependence on Western assistance and economic involvement, suggested a strategy of appeasement and cooperation. In this sense, the predominance of the liberal internationalist perspectives of “new thinking” in the early period after the demise of the USSR, and the close and cooperative ties with the United States and the other Western states during this period are consistent with the predictive dimension of realism.

Such a strategy was also suggested if one accepts modification of the balancing-bandwagoning dichotomy to include domestic as well as external threats. Close relations with the Western community would arguably strengthen the Russian leadership in the face of its internal opposition. Moreover, the “promise of rewards”—the capacity to reallocate resources away from defense expenditure and reform the domestic economy without needing to preoccupy oneself with imminent or potential strategic threats from the main historical adversary, as well as flows of Western assistance—recommended bandwagoning for profit. ₂₆

It is worth stressing that this accommodation would, in theory, include Japan—one of the principal potential sources of capital and expertise for Russian recovery and a logical market for Russian raw material exports. There are fewer potential longer term threats emanating from Japan than from China. Indeed, one could argue that the development of stronger relations with Japan would serve as a means of balancing potential threats from China in the Russian Far East.

The overall problem for a realist explanation is that, at first glance, the two vectors of Russia’s expected strategy contradict one another. A strategy of assertion and suppression in the former Soviet Union is likely to create tensions in relations with the West, since Western states have assumed commitments to the sovereignty of the other former Soviet republics, and since any successful reconsolidation of the former Soviet space might be perceived by Western states to be threatening, particularly as Western strategic and economic interests in the newly independent states gradually expand, as they are doing in the Caspian Basin. This in turn would make Western states more likely to balance against rather than cooperate with Russia. ₂₇

 

Russian Conceptualization of Foreign Policy and International Relations

The maturation of Russian foreign policymaking from 1991–96 produced several more or less authoritative statements of Russian strategy in the “near abroad.” ₂₈ I focus on six—the Foreign Policy Concept of the Russian Federation, ₂₉ the descriptions of Russian military doctrine, ₃₀ the “Russian National Security Concept for 1994,” ₃₁ Andranik Migranyan’s analysis of Russian interest in the “near abroad,” from January 1994, ₃₂ Boris Yeltsin’s Decree of September 1995 on Russian relations with CIS states, ₃₃ and the theses of the Council on Foreign and Defense Policy of May 1996. ₃₄ As a group, they are indicative of a wider evolution in the views of policy analysts and the attentive public. ₃₅

Several themes run through these documents. First is the focus on state interest as the basic underpinning of national strategy. As the Russian National Security Concept for 1994 put it: “The main threat is the weakening of power and statehood, “ in the context of a “fundamental change in Russia’s position in the world community and in its mutual relations with foreign states.” ₃₆ This is frequently coupled with a critique of previous “liberal” or “utopian” policy for insufficient attention to matters of Russian interest.

With regard to the newly independent states, which are identified as the first priority of Russian foreign policy, most of these documents stress that Russia is surrounded by a region of weak states that are in many instances incapable of controlling negative spillovers into Russia itself. The major failure of early Russian foreign policy was its inattentiveness to the centrality of policy vis-à-vis the near abroad. ₃₇ Citing Russian military doctrine, one of the basic dangers to the Russian Federation is “existing and potential local wars and armed conflicts, particularly in the vicinity of Russian borders.” ₃₈ Moreover, powers external to the former USSR may take advantage of Russian inattentiveness or weakness to establish strategic positions at Russia’s expense. ₃₉

This problem was judged to be particularly serious along the southern periphery of the former Soviet Union. Turkey pursued an ambitious strategy of deepening its relations with the turkic states of the former Soviet Union, as well as with Georgia, in 1992–96. This extended in a less dramatic way to the establishment of ties with North Caucasian Muslim peoples such as the Chechens. Much of the Russian strategy in the Caucasus discussed below may be explained at least partially in terms of an effort to contain this initiative. ₄₀ More recently, the United States has come to be seen as a regional threat, seeking to acquire control over the region’s important natural resources. Also frequently encountered is insistence on the need to control the borders of the former Soviet Union in order to limit cross-border contraband in weapons and drugs, and the spread of ideologies (e.g., Islamic fundamentalism) that are perceived to be antithetical to the interests of the Russian Federation. ₄₁ This identification of Russian strategic preoccupations in the near abroad reveals a strong sensitivity to issues of interest, power, competition, and relative gain. It predisposes Russian policymakers toward actions to control this space and limit involvement of other powers. Together, these factors favor a Russian interest in cooperation among former Soviet states, but, even in declaratory doctrine, this is not to be cooperation among equals on the basis of mutually recognized common interests, but instead on Russian leadership and the others’ acquiescence. ₄₂ Their discussion of institutional manifestations of Russian control is reminiscent of Gilpin’s discussion of hegemonic cooperation.

With regard to the West, the early embrace of interdependence and cooperation in security and economic relations was well expressed recently by Sergei Rogov, the director of the USA-Canada Institute, who points out that the Russian leadership felt that:

to provide favorable conditions for reform at home, Russia had to adopt a foreign policy which would reject Bolshevism’s ideological dogmas, not only doing away with the legacy of the confrontation of the Cold War era, but also joining the “civilized world,” that is, the Western community, at an early date. Accordingly Russia was prepared to accept US leadership without qualification. ₄₃

This has been replaced by a deep disillusionment with the fruits of this attempt at cooperation, ₄₄ a growing suspicion of Western intentions regarding Russia perhaps best typified in the commentary on NATO expansion, and a reemphasis on the primacy of specific Russian interests distinct from those of Western states. ₄₅ The latter often translates—at least at the declaratory level—into advocacy of the balancing strategy inherent in Eurasianism. ₄₆ The earlier comprehensive quality of cooperation with the West has been replaced by a far more differentiated and less ambitious agenda of cooperation based not so much on universal liberal values as on convenience and interest. There are areas in which the benefits of cooperation exceed the cost, and where cooperation is therefore desirable. There are those in which cost exceeds benefit, and where, consequently, cooperation does not make sense. This strongly resembles the classical realist approach to cooperation, whereby states cooperate to the extent that, and as long as, it suits them. When it doesn’t, they don’t, with institutions and norms having little autonomous impact on their behavior.

This equivocal and self-interested approach to the issue of cooperation is also evident in economic policy. Russia remained strongly interested in broadening and deepening economic ties to the West. This was cast, however, not so much in the rhetoric of globalism as in terms of Russian national interest. As the Foreign Policy Concept put it in 1993,

Without economic rebirth, Russia cannot become a full-fledged member of the club of great powers at the end of the 20th and beginning of the 21st centuries, and, consequently, it will be more difficult to defend its own interests and the interests of Russians in the international arena.

Disillusionment with the fruits of the relationship with the West has been accompanied by increasing interest in alternative relationships. In 1993, Yeltsin himself, in comments during his first trip as president of an independent country to China, stressed that Russia’s foreign policy could not be oriented in an exclusively Western direction, but had to face both east and west. Similar comments were made during the president’s visit to India. The “Foreign Policy Concept” criticized the Soviet era’s production of policies that tended to isolate the USSR from its Asia-Pacific neighbors, and stressed the possibilities for more cooperative relationships there as a means of “ensuring Russia’s independent role in the polycentric system of regional international relations.” It went on to call for a deepening relationship with China. Significantly, however, it warned against any steps that might reproduce a re-creation of Cold War confrontation in the region between a Sino-Soviet bloc and the United States. ₄₇ It is also noteworthy that, in the section of this document on the Asia-Pacific dimension of Russian foreign policy, the discussion of relations with China was preceded by that concerning Russo-American relations in the region.

Discussion of balancing alternatives revived in the face of NATO’s expansion project and also the turn in Russian domestic politics evident in the elections of December 1995. Defense Minister Pavel Grachev, for example, asserted in November 1995 that any expansion of NATO would produce a Russian search for allies, not only in the CIS, but also in “the Middle East and Far East.” ₄₈ Both India and China have been mentioned in this regard. Boris Yeltsin responded to the 1997 decision to invite three Central European states to join NATO by noting that Russia would engage China more deeply in response to enlargement.

 

Russian Strategy in the Former Soviet Union

The principal focus in this discussion of Russian behavior is on the newly independent states of the former Soviet Union, since this is, by Russian admission, the first priority of their foreign and security policy. In examining Russian strategy in the newly independent states, I focus on three components: Russian national security policy vis-à-vis the other newly independent states; Russian foreign economic policy in the region; and Russian policy toward regional cooperation. The first displayed an increasingly clear propensity to use force or the threat of force to expand Russian influence over the other former Soviet republics until the war in Chechnya. The second suggested a consistent pattern of manipulating the dependencies of the other former Soviet states to obtain compliance with Russian economic and politico-security interests. The third indicated an increasingly clear Russian effort to structure regional cooperation in such a way as to establish Russian leadership and control over regional organizations. All three directions are consistent with the predictive component of realism outlined previously.

Decisionmakers responded to the interests and concerns outlined in the previous section in a patterned way in national security policy. One element was the use of force, officially or unofficially, to interfere in the affairs of other republics in order to enhance Russian influence and/or prevent gains on the part of potential state and non-state adversaries. The best example was Tajikistan, where the Russian Army intervened in force to sustain an unrepresentative ex-communist regime in the face of attacks on it by a democratic and Islamic opposition. The intervention occurred in response to a request from Islam Karimov, the President of Uzbekistan, and other Central Asian leaders who had even more to fear from instability in Tajikistan than Russia did. ₄₉ In justifying the intervention, Yeltsin stressed that, given the lack of established border control within the former Soviet space, the border of Tajikistan with Afghanistan was the border of Russia. The result has been the establishment of significant Russian force along the Central Asian perimeter of the former Soviet Union. This intervention was accompanied by substantial Russian pressure on the Central Asian states to deepen cooperation (under Russian control) in the area of border control.

The Transcaucasus provided other examples. ₅₀ Here, elements of the Russian military assiduously manipulated the civil conflicts in the region (notably the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict between Azerbaijan and Armenia and the conflicts between Ossets and Abkhaz on the one hand and Georgians on the other in the Republic of Georgia) in order to return the governments of the region to a position of subservience. In the case of Georgia, Russian forces stationed in Abkhazia assisted the secessionist movement up to the point that the Georgians were driven from the region. At this stage, Georgia abandoned its previous unwillingness to join the Commonwealth of Independent States (CIS), signed a number of economic agreements binding the republic to Russia, and ultimately accepted a military cooperation agreement that provided, among other things, for a twenty-five year Russian lease on three military bases within its borders. ₅₁ Armenia has signed a similar agreement concerning the status of Russian forces and followed that up in 1997 with a bilateral treaty that amounted to an alliance. Azerbaijan is the only country in the Transcaucasian region with no Russian forces within its borders, but it has been under significant Russian pressure to allow a return of the Russian military, coordination of air defense systems, and joint border control. ₅₂ Many have interpreted Russian support of the Armenian side in the Nagorno-Karabakh dispute as a means of bringing Azerbaijan to heel.

A third example might be the Russian manipulation of the Crimea dispute to elicit Ukrainian concessions on the Black Sea Fleet question and compliance with Ukrainian commitments to denuclearization, as well as a more compliant general direction in Ukrainian foreign policy. Here the pluralistic quality of the Russian foreign policy formulation process has worked to Russian advantage. Although the government itself studiously avoided any demonstration of commitment to Russian secessionist forces in the Crimean parliament, the State Duma repeatedly expressed support for the transfer of Crimea to Russian sovereignty and supported the Crimean government against Kyiv, underlining the possibility of change in official policy. ₅₃ The success of Russian pressure is evident in Ukraine’s formal accession to the Nonproliferation Treaty (NPT) in October 1994, and the general improvement in Russian-Ukrainian relations subsequent to the election of Leonid Kuchma as president, typified by the initialing of a treaty of friendship and cooperation in February 1995 and the conclusion of a bilateral treaty in 1997. The Russian Federation’s failure to interfere with the Ukrainian Government’s suppression, in early 1995, of the Crimean constitution and presidency reflected not only Russia’s preoccupation with the analogous case of Chechnya, but also recognition that the Russians had essentially obtained what they wanted.

The mention of Azerbaijan and Ukraine brings me to the second dimension of the discussion—the use of economic instruments to pursue strategic objectives. In the case of Ukraine, the central question was that of energy debt. In 1995, Russia was providing more than two-thirds of Ukraine’s oil and 60 percent of its natural gas (the balance coming from Turkmenistan via pipelines transiting Russian territory). The critical issue from the Ukrainian perspective was Russian willingness to tolerate the accumulation of debt through the unpaid export of natural gas supplies without which the Ukrainian economy would grind to a halt. The incapacity of Ukraine to pay precluded the search for alternative sources of supply to this energy-poor economy and created a deep and asymmetrical dependence on Russia. The results were exacerbated by Russia’s (and other CIS suppliers’) move to world price levels for energy. Energy dependence, coupled with the termination of official transfers from Russia to Ukraine, caused Ukraine in 1993 to have an annual trade deficit with the other CIS states of some $2.5 billion dollars, owing Russia more than $1 billion for energy imports, and being in substantial arrears with Turkmenistan as well. By 1995, according to some reports, the Ukrainian energy debt to Russia had risen to $4.3 billion. ₅₄ Energy debt was used as a lever in negotiations regarding the disposition of the Black Sea Fleet. It was intended, for example, that a substantial portion of the Ukrainian share be sold back to Russia in return for diminution of debt. Ukraine is hardly alone in this respect. ₅₅ Between 1992 and 1994, it was estimated that these factors had resulted in a cumulative debt of the non-Russian former Soviet republics to Russia of $15 billion, or about 15 percent of their cumulative 1994 GDP. ₅₆

More concretely, Russia has on occasion demonstrated its willingness to use its control over energy transport infrastructure to coerce its neighbors into compliance with Russian foreign policy objectives. A concrete example is the experience of Kazakhstan. The Kazakhstani authorities concluded an agreement with Chevron in 1993 for a $20 billion U.S. investment in the development of the Tengiz oil field. Initially, the oil was to be exported to Western markets along existing and improved Russian pipeline routes terminating at Novorossiisk on the Black Sea.

It transpired, however, that Russian authorities were unhappy with their exclusion from the Tengiz development and their share of other Kazak energy development projects. They sought to take advantage of their monopoly position in the pipeline sector to extort rents at the expense of both the Kazaks and their foreign partners. ₅₇ They also exploited the vulnerabilities that resulted from the hub and spokes pattern of energy transport in the region to coerce the Kazaks into compliance by interrupting the flow of oil to the energy complex in Southeastern Kazakhstan in 1994. ₅₈ From a geopolitical perspective, this had the effect of limiting the extent to which Western firms might replace Russia in the critical energy sector of Central Asia, and making the point to the Kazaks that, if they wanted to get back on their feet, it would be with Russian help. Chevron responded to its unforeseen transport costs by putting its Tengiz development on hold, reducing its level of planned investment and ultimately splitting its equity stake with Mobil in order to spread future risk and inviting the Russian corporation LUKOil to take a stake as well. Russian behavior in this instance suggests a desire to extract a substantial share of the profits of development of critical natural resources in the other former Soviet republics, and to control the access of these states to the international marketplace.

A similar conclusion can be drawn about Russian behavior regarding energy production and development in the Transcaucasus. Azerbaijan negotiated for several years with a consortium led by British Petroleum to develop offshore reserves. The Azerbaijanis attempted to mollify Russia by granting LUKOil 10 percent of Azerbaijan’s 30 percent stake in the project. In September 1994, negotiations came to fruition in a $7 billion deal for offshore development. At this stage, the Russian Foreign Ministry weighed in, rejecting the deal on the basis that ownership of offshore resources in the Caspian was unresolved since the Caspian Sea, as a lake (sic), was not covered by international laws concerning offshore resource zones. The Foreign Ministry took the view that LUKOil participation in the project might imply Russian recognition of Azerbaijan’s authority over the a section of the Caspian shelf. This resulted in substantial delay of the project in question; this, in turn, interfered with economic recovery and political stabilization in Azerbaijan.

This story also has a pipeline dimension. The preferences of the majority of consortium partners were for transport in the short term via Georgia to Supsa and the Black Sea, and in the longer term via Armenia and Eastern Turkey to terminals on the Mediterranean. This option had the advantage from the point of view of Azerbaijan and Georgia of reducing dependence on Russia, as well as (in the Georgian instance) providing a much-needed infusion of hard currency to assist in economic recovery. Russia vociferously resisted this variant, insisting that Azerbaijani oil be exported via Russia to Novorossiisk. Turkey attempted to shortcircuit this option by enacting (in July 1994) more stringent restrictions on tanker traffic through the Bosporus and Dardanelles. Russia has responded with a proposal to ship the oil by tanker to Burgas (Bulgaria), where it would be offloaded into a new pipeline that would terminate in Alexandropoulis, Greece (a prospect no doubt difficult for the Turks to swallow). The fact that the Russian section of pipeline transits Chechnya no doubt goes some considerable distance toward explaining the Russian operation to suppress the Dudaev regime in Chechnya.

In the autumn of 1995, the development consortium selected the Georgian option. The Georgians and Azerbaijanis, along with their international partners, attempted to reassure Russia by agreeing that existing volumes of oil exported from Azerbaijan would continue to use Russian pipelines and that the new pipeline would carry only “new” oil. In other words, the project implied no loss for Russia in absolute terms. Nonetheless, the decision reportedly resulted in a flying visit to Baku by two Russian deputy foreign ministers who read Geidar Aliev the riot act. The result was a reversal and acceptance of the Russian option. ₅₉ Ultimately a compromise was achieved whereby Azerbaijan’s oil would travel on both routes once they were rehabilitated. The first of Azerbaijan’s new oil began to flow in the autumn of 1997 via Novorossiisk. The Georgian pipeline was scheduled to come on line in late 1998. The “relative gains” dimension of Russian behavior on this issue should be obvious.

Both the economic and military discussions have international institutional components as well. The Russian government has manipulated the collective security and peacekeeping agreements of the Commonwealth of Independent States in such a way as to provide an institutional imprimatur for unilateral intervention in pursuit of its own foreign and defense policy objectives. The peacekeeping force in Tajikistan, for example, operates under a CIS mandate renewed at regular intervals, but is heavily dominated by Russian forces who report to the Ministry of Defense in Moscow. The CIS peacekeeping force in Georgia was installed only after Georgia had capitulated to Russia on the question of membership in the CIS. It is composed exclusively of Russian troops and also reports to Moscow. In short, Russia has dominated the military and security dimensions of multilateral cooperation in pursuit of its own strategic objectives. Where the organization has not been useful in this regard, Russia has bypassed it in concluding asymmetrical bilateral agreements, such as those concerning status of forces in Armenia, Georgia, and Armenia and military cooperation in Turkmenistan and Kazakhstan.

Similar patterns are evident in multilateral economic cooperation. The paradigm case is the (ultimately failed) ruble zone project of 1992–93. Here Russia offered cooperation in the supply of liquidity to other former Soviet states in return for the deposit of these states’ hard currency reserves in the Russian State Bank in Moscow and effective Russian control over monetary policy.

More recently, Russia has been seeking closer multilateral cooperation on matters of border control and air defense with the peripheral states of the former Soviet Union, ₆₀ as well as in the area of trade. Yeltsin’s September 1995 decree on Russian policy toward the other newly independent states makes clear that such efforts—and indeed foreign, security, and trade policy issues in general—should occur under Russian leadership. ₆₁ In short, in all three dimensions of Russian policy in the former Soviet Union, both documentary evidence and the empirical record are consistent with the predictive dimension of realist theory.

By way of conclusion, it is worth noting that Russia’s capacity to pursue a hegemonic agenda in the former Soviet region has depended importantly on at least one permissive condition—the unavailability of serious balancing options for the other newly independent states. This condition may be weakening as the United States and the EU states gradually increase their political and economic involvement in the CIS states, and notably in Ukraine, the Transcaucasus, and Central Asia. This may reduce the vulnerability of these states to Russian politico-military and economic pressure. However, this does not alter the basic conclusion thus far regarding the utility of the realist logic in accounting for Russian behavior toward its neighbors.

 

Russian Strategy Toward the Rest

Matters are not as simple in Russia’s relations with the West. On the one hand, ample evidence exists of durability in the most fundamental aspects of the Gorbachevian project of cooperation with the West on security issues. In fact, the Russian-American arms control arrangement suggests the opposite of Lipson’s point cited above. The most developed aspects of Russian cooperation with the West lie in the realm of security, even though this is the area in which, theoretically, sensitivity to relative gains should be most intense. This is the one area in which Russia might be said to be embedded in the core of international relations and in which “strategic partnership” with the United States exists.

Implementation of the INF Treaty moved forward more or less smoothly. Russia is generally complying with the provisions of the two major arms control agreements at the strategic level—START I and II—despite the failure to ratify the latter. Russia actively cooperated with the United States in facilitating Ukrainian compliance with the Lisbon Protocol on the application of the non-proliferation regime in the former Soviet Union. ₆₂

With one critical reservation (to be discussed), Russia complied with the provisions of the CFE Agreement. It implemented the troop withdrawal provisions of the two plus four agreement on German unification. It completed the withdrawal of its forces from the former Warsaw Pact states. The Russian government on the whole cooperated for much of the period with Western agendas in the UN Security Council, such as the maintenance of sanctions on Libya and on Iraq, despite fairly substantial costs to Russia. It did not allow its reservations regarding Western policy toward Serbia and Bosnia-Herzegovina to prevent the West from escalating its involvement in that war. In instances where Russian preferences in the former Soviet region ran directly counter to Western preferences, and where these preferences are made unambiguously clear (viz., the question of Russian troop presence in the Baltic Republics), it abided by them. This behavior is consistent with the deductive propositions based on change in the distribution of power outlined in Section III.

However, there are elements of tension in these smoothly operating areas of Russian-Western relations. There were disagreements on the pace of reduction in strategic ballistic missile arsenals and on ballistic missile defense, and Russia ignored forcefully expressed Western opposition to sales of missile technology to India and of conventional arms. ₆₃ Moreover, Russia intensively sought revision of flank limits in the CFE Treaty, particularly as these concerned Russian deployments on the southern flank. Russia unilaterally violated these limits during its action in Chechnya. Moreover, the Russian government, or elements thereof, courted significant problems in the relationship with the United States through the proposed transfer of nuclear technology and (reportedly) ballistic missile expertise to Iran in the face of sustained and vociferous American disapproval.

In the former Yugoslavia, when push came to shove, Russia did not interfere with UN-sanctioned escalation in Bosnia in 1995, the Croat offensive in Krajina, and the subcontracting of military functions to NATO in the context of UN efforts to secure a cessation of hostilities. ₆₄ However, it resisted, and on occasion acted unilaterally to prevent, specific acts of force against the Bosnian Serbs, as it did in February 1994 in its redeployment of peacekeepers from Croatia to areas around Sarajevo when the Bosnian Serbs were under threat of air attack. Moreover, the United States and its European allies—in escalating the use of force in the area—have had to rely on broad interpretations of early UNSC resolutions on the conflict, since it is improbable that Russia would have supported new broader mandates. In the context of impending settlement of the conflict, Russia continued to oppose NATO command of the peacekeeping venture likely to follow signature of a peace accord in Bosnia. Once the IFOR plan came into effect, they refused to accept the subordination of Russian forces in Bosnia-Herzegovina to the NATO command structure. Finally, Russian policy in the former Soviet region has more than occasionally acted as an irritant in relations with Western powers ostensibly committed to the autonomy of the non-Russian former Soviet republics and attracted by the economic opportunities they present.

The deepest disagreement between Russia and the West concerned the role of NATO in Europe in general and NATO expansion in particular. Russian commentary on NATO has suggested that they view the organization as an artifact of the Cold War, and as an inappropriate basis for strengthening European security. They regarded NATO expansion into the former Warsaw Pact zone as a hostile act deleterious to the national security of the Russian Federation. This sentiment spanned the political spectrum. ₆₅ As former U.S. Defense Secretary William Perry put it, Russian reaction to NATO expansion “ranges from being unhappy to being very unhappy . . .This is not just one or two officials expressing a view, this is a very widely and very deeply held view in Russia.” ₆₆ In practice, they substantially delayed their adherence to the Partnership for Peace, and then—when the expansion project was approved in Brussels in December 1994—walked away from formally signing the partnership agreement they had negotiated. This was followed by Yeltsin’s warning of a descent into “Cold Peace” at the Budapest OSCE meetings.

Although this lies in the realm of speculation, one cannot resist the conclusion that these obstreperous Russian positions on matters outside their immediate region are linked to their objectives within that region. Yeltsin’s warning at the Budapest Summit was followed closely by the military action against Chechnya.

Of course, his remarks may simply have reflected his rage at NATO’s decision to proceed with expansion. Alternatively, they may have been the result of a judgment that to proceed in relations with the West as if nothing had happened would have courted domestic political disaster. However, this hard line in Budapest also served a strategic purpose. The fanning of a sense of crisis in Russia’s relations with the West served as an instrument of dissuasion in anticipation of a highly negative Western response to impending events in Chechnya. Yeltsin was reminding his Western counterparts that a radical deterioration in relations with Russia could cause them significant problems.

There is evidence of more concrete strategic tradeoffs in Russian-Western relations. It appears, for example, that in 1994 the Russian Federation granted its approval in the Security Council for the American-led intervention in Haiti in return for Security Council endorsement of the Russian peacekeeping role in Georgia. ₆₇ Elsewhere in 1994, Russia granted its cooperation in the creation of the heavy weapons exclusion zone around Sarajevo in return for the creation of the five-power “Contact Group” that ended Russian exclusion from the diplomatic process in the former Yugoslavia and restored it to status as a major player in the Balkan diplomatic process. In 1995, the escalation of NATO bombing of Serb positions coincided with NATO acceptance in principle of a revision in CFE flank limits that essentially gave the Russians what they wanted in the south.

This suggests that the issues were linked. Russia held back on the Bosnian question in return for Western concessions on a CIS issue. In this respect, there are grounds to doubt the view of those who argue that events in Bosnia-Herzegovina in July and August 1995 indicate a deepening marginalization and powerlessness of Russia. ₆₈ Instead, Russia was trading off concessions on less important issues for flexibility on more important ones.

Likewise, as NATO moved toward a decision on enlargement, pressure increased for formal adoption of revisions to CFE flank limits. As the revised flank limits came into effect quite closely with the May 1997 enlargement decision, this too may have contained elements of a quid pro quo. ₆₉ In the same vein, although acknowledging that there was little they could do to forestall the process, Russian diplomats extracted what they could, ₇₀ including a charter in which NATO stated that it had no intention of deploying nuclear weapons or substantial new forces on the territory of new member states, accepted the establishment of a Russia-NATO Permanent Joint Council, and accepted in principle the necessity of a substantial CFE adaptation to take NATO enlargement into account. ₇₁

In short, the picture one gets in the politico-military realm is somewhat different from that forecast by realist theory. For reasons noted previously, from the perspective of structural analysis, the weakness of Russia, the continuation of its decline in 1992–97, and the failure of balancing options to emerge should produce a deepening of cooperative behavior on the part of Russia. However, since 1991 Russia has moved away from a position of more or less complete acquiescence to Western preferences and has become increasingly assertive in defending its own interests and status in the relationship with the West, even when these considerations impede cooperation and risk alienating their Western partners. It appeared to be using its leverage across a broad range of issues to secure Western concessions, particularly on CIS issues. This reflects the principal focus on power and interest characteristic of realist theory, but departs from the predicted behavior of weak powers with few balancing options. Moreover, it also suggests a capacity to extract concessions that is difficult to explain in terms of the distribution of capabilities prevailing at the time.

Turning to economic strategy with respect to the West, a realist analysis would suggest that Russia would seek to manipulate the levers of economic policy to manage Russia’s opening to the international economy in such a way as to maximize Russian relative gain. In trade, this meant a reorientation in activity toward hard currency exchange with partners outside the CIS. This has occurred. Vladimir Popov reported in 1994 that trade with the near abroad diminished by a factor of two between 1992 and 1994, while Russian exports and imports shifted dramatically to the far abroad. This reorientation was particularly evident in the energy sector, where the ratio of exports to the near versus the far abroad was approximately 2.5 to 1 in 1991, and 1 to 3 in 1994. ₇₂ The same redirection was evident in the dramatic growth of Russian export of nonferrous metals during this period. The export of aluminum to foreign markets, for example, grew by a factor of three between 1991 and 1993. Although the substantial involvement in natural resources trade of private actors often acting outside the Russian regulatory framework creates problems in speaking of a Russian strategy in trade, the evolving pattern appears to be one of emphasizing natural resource export as a basis for financing Russian recovery. ₇₃

This was accompanied by an increasing effort to control expansion of imports through duties, excise taxes, and value added taxes on imports. ₇₄ More recently, the Russian government has implemented further duties to protect key sectors. In short, the strategy in trade appears to be one of maximizing relative gain through expansion of export and control of import activity.

The final area in the economic sphere is that of arms transfers. After a radical decline in arms exports from their 1980s levels, the Russian government has quite deliberately reorganized the sector to facilitate export to hard currency markets. Its export policies show little attentiveness to issues of regional stability and also, as is evident in transfers to Iran and China, little regard for Western preferences. The point is, apparently, revenue maximization. ₇₅

Although Russia is constrained in its capacity systematically to pursue economic strategies that maximize Russian relative gain at the expense of its Western economic partners by, most notably, its need for access to Western markets, Western technologies in key sectors, and IMF support of currency stabilization, the self-interested thrust of the policy is clear. This is consistent with realist analysis as it relates to behavior of states in the international economy.

Realist analysis also performs reasonably well in accounting for Russia’s relations with China.Those relations display a limited balancing quality. Russia has moved actively since 1991 to resolve issues that have caused tension. The best example is that of border demarcation. This has involved Russian cession of territory to China in several instances, despite considerable domestic opposition. Russia resumed military sales to China in 1991, and by 1995 was selling submarines, late-generation tanks, and Su-27 aircraft along with the technology to produce them. In 1997, the disillusionment of both states with NATO enlargement was evident in the April summit between Yeltsin and Jiang Zemin, in which the two rejected the idea of “unipolar” domination and reemphasized their strategic partnership.

On the other hand, although political relations are better than they have been in decades, there is no substantial evidence of efforts to institutionalize such cooperation through alliance building, or of practical cooperation in wider international relations. Both, moreover, are combining their more cooperative policies with efforts to balance against one another as insurance. This is evident, for example, in the Russian cultivation of South Korea and China’s vigorous effort to develop relations with the non-Russian CIS republics. ₇₆

However, Japan is the logical balancer for Russia with respect to China. There was no real progress in the development of relations with Japan, despite the obvious geopolitical and economic advantages. The key issue remained the Kurile Islands and particularly those that Japan referred to as its Northern Territories. Russia continued to refuse to abandon these islands, while the significance of their return in Japanese domestic politics was such that little progress in bilateral relations was possible so long as the issue remained unresolved. It is possible—though not very credible—to account in realist terms for Russia’s reluctance to make the necessary concessions to move the relationship forward. The islands do have some strategic value in retaining the Sea of Okhotsk as a secure bastion for the submarines of Russia’s Pacific Fleet. Moreover, concession on territorial issues may encourage further demands from other states.

The latter argument, however, lacks credibility since Russia is already making territorial concessions with China. The former seems stretched, given the diminishing strategic significance of nuclear weapons in Russian national security doctrine and the obvious costs to Russia associated with lack of progress in its relations with Japan. By contrast, unit level explanations focusing on the symbolic significance of the islands in domestic political discourse and the potential domestic costs of giving them away are more compelling. Realist theory does not help much here.

To sum up, the record of realist theory in explaining Russia’s relations with major actors outside the former Soviet Union is mixed. It helps little with regard to Japan, but performs better concerning China and Russian foreign economic strategy in general. Perhaps the most significant problem is that the level of Russian cooperation with the West is lower than one would expect from a deductive analysis of the implications of change in the distribution of power for Russian policy. Notably, Russia’s positions on NATO enlargement, the wars in the former Yugoslavia, and, arguably, on trade and investment are less accommodating than predicted.

 

Weakness as Strength

Following Waltz’s schema, if a theory produces hypotheses that do not pass observational tests, then one can reject the theory or refine its assumptions, definitions, and/or hypotheses. ₇₇ One promising possibility here is a revisitation of the characterization of power relations. Arguably, the problem is that the discussion of Russia’s place in the global distribution of power was excessively simplistic. In the first place, it was insufficiently differentiated, and paid inadequate attention to several areas where Russian power remains considerable. Moreover, it paid insufficient attention to the relational aspect of power, and more specifically to Western vulnerabilities in the relationship with Russia.

In this context, and contrary to the frequently encountered image of a Russia prostrate in the face of American unipolarity and the discipline of the international market, Russia possesses significant assets in its struggle for survival and autonomy of decision. First, the Russian nuclear deterrent remains intact. How one assesses this factor depends strongly on assumptions concerning the significance of nuclear weapons in contemporary world politics, and particularly their relationship to state power and the distribution of power among states. The significance attributed to nuclear weapons in the balance of power has both diminished and altered in substance. In the Russian case, the deterrent role of these weapons has lessened considerably. The Russian deterrent appears to have developed an “existential” quality, divorced from immediate threat assessment, strategy, or force restructuring. Nonetheless, the presence of substantial numbers of strategic nuclear weapons and the infrastructure to maintain them in Russia retains considerable significance in its strategy toward the West. Their presence lies at the core of Russian leverage over the West, and they are, consequently, a key remaining element of Russia’s national power, although not in a traditional sense.

It is the Western—and particularly the American—concern to ensure the integrity of the Russian nuclear force, and to prevent diversion of nuclear materials, delivery capabilities, and the human capital of the former Soviet nuclear weapons industry to potential proliferators that gives Russia substantial leverage in its dealings with the West. ₇₈ So does the American desire to ensure continuing Russian cooperation in the implementation of START I and II and the Conventional Forces in Europe Treaty. These factors are practically the sole basis for retention of Russian status as a great power in the international system as a whole. Russian defection from these agreements would have serious implications for the development of American defense policy. This is not merely a matter of Russian state policy. To the extent that a collapse of law and order in Russia may jeopardize the security of weapons and nuclear stocks, there is a Western interest in sustaining the Russian state.

The Western and American interest in preventing Russian defection from these arms control agreements—coupled with the existence within the domestic political arena of groups that consider these agreements a betrayal of the Russian national interest—creates a potential for blackmail by Russian policymakers. Après moi, le déluge is a powerful means of turning weakness into strength.

In the economic realm, the matter of Russian debt is also illustrative. Russia inherited 61.3 percent of the estimated $67 billion external debt of the Soviet Union. By the end of 1993, Russian debt amounted to some $87 billion, having increased $9 billion in 1993 alone. ₇₉ The external debt of the Russian Federation continued to grow through the middle of the decade as Russian enterprises became active on international bond markets. While these debts are indicative of Russian dependence on external financial support, they also suggest a strong and growing Western interest in preventing Russian default on its obligations, an interest evident in the repeated deferrals of debt service and extension of new credit characteristic of 1992–95, and the widespread concern expressed over instability in Russian markets in late 1997.

The gradual entry of Russia into global commodity markets created additional vulnerabilities for Western producers. This was clear in the devastating impact that uncontrolled (and often illegal) exports of Russian raw materials, notably metals, had on prices in already weak international commodities markets in 1992–93. ₈₀ Although the general recovery of the international economy in the mid-1990s vitiated this effect, it remained the case that the potential disruption of international markets associated with Russian entry gave Western states a substantial incentive to cooperate with Russia, a factor evident in the prolonged negotiations on quotas for Russian aluminum production in 1993–94.

Russia also enjoys a number of political/institutional assets. The most notable is permanent membership of the United Nations, which gives Russia leverage over Western efforts to develop multilateral responses to specific problems, such as Bosnia-Herzegovina or Iraq. The value of this asset was evident in late 1997 during the crisis over Iraqi expulsion of UN inspectors, when Russia joined France and China in a successful effort to forestall US-led, UN-mandated military action against Iraq, and then mediated a compromise permitting the return of the inspectors. The latter suggests a further asset that may in future have considerable utility. As a result of historical relations and current activities, Russia may be useful as an interlocuteur valable in relations with a number of states that the United States has considerable difficulty in dealing with, not least Iraq and Iran.

Finally, Western states were (to a degree) vulnerable, or perceived themselves as vulnerable, to the social consequences of instability in the former Soviet Union and contiguous zones of Europe. The internationalization of criminal activity originating in the former Soviet Union is a case in point.

Most generally, many Western policymakers and analysts take the view that including Russia in the framework of post-Cold War Europe is preferable to leaving Russia outside the status quo. Russia remains that country in Europe with the largest population, the largest military establishment, and the largest resource base for future economic development. A German analyst, reflecting a degree of amnesia, put it this way in December, 1995: “The basic problem of European security remains what it has been since the Napoleonic Wars. Russia is too big for Europe.” ₈₁ Recent economic data suggest that the bottom may have been reached in Russia’s economic decline and that its economy is rebounding. ₈₂ Western states face a future in which Russia will resume its central place in the balance of power in Europe. The question for them is whether—when it does—Russia will be integrated into the structure of the system or it will be left on the fringes with an incentive to challenge the post-Cold War settlement. ₈₃

In all these respects, Russia retains considerable assets in its relations with the dominant coalition of powers in the international system. Realist theory would suggest an opportunistic effort to take advantage of Western vulnerabilities to maintain maximal access to Western assistance and markets and to limit so far as possible Western efforts to reap the strategic benefits of victory in the Cold War (viz. NATO enlargement). Closer to home, it would predict Russian efforts to take advantage of these vulnerabilities to restrain Western challenges in the newly independent states and to limit efforts to influence sovereign choices in domestic policy.

In concrete terms, while the record shows that the leverage produced by perceived weakness is insufficient for extracting the desired level of Western assistance in economic recovery, it did enhance Russia’s autonomy of decision in the former Soviet Union. The best example was the lack of substantial Western response to the reassertion of Russian military power and political control in the CIS in 1993–96. The smaller states of the region found themselves without meaningful international defense against Russian manipulation of military and economic power. Western concern about the weakness of the current government of Russia also impeded the operationalization of NATO expansion and elicited a level of accommodation to Russian concerns on former Yugoslav issues and on NATO enlargement that would have been unlikely otherwise. In this sense, weakness itself is a source of power.

 

Conclusion

As already noted, the possibility that realism explains not merely the cooperative phase in 1992 of Russian relations with the West, but also the turn to a more self-interested, assertive, and occasionally confrontational strategy and limited balancing in later years raises the obvious question of whether there is anything that realism could not explain—or to put it another way, whether realism as applied to Russian foreign policy is nonfalsifiable.

There are, however, possible developments in Russian policy that would strain the explanatory capacities of the realist tradition. Most notably, Russia has a clear and unambiguous interest, given the current and prospective distribution of power in the international system, in pursuing and strengthening the network of arms control arrangements that constrain the United States, since it would lose any unrestrained arms competition. An abandonment of the START process could not be explained in terms of the realist calculus. That such a development is possible, as a result of trends in current Russian domestic politics, suggests that there are limits on the utility of realism in this instance and that realism in this version can be disconfirmed. Moreover, as we already noted, there are important areas of Russia’s foreign relations that cannot simply be explained in terms of international realism, particularly the development of the relationship with Japan.

Nonetheless, the above analysis suggests that realism has considerable utility in understanding the general lines of Russian strategy in international affairs. This is particularly true when the focus is on the fundamentals of international realism, which stress that states operate in an anarchical environment, that state policy is rooted in self-interest, and that it is sensitive to the distribution of power in the international system and to relative change in that distribution.

To return to the point raised by Robert Legvold, it is true and obvious that leaders have choices when they formulate foreign policy. And it is equally true that Russian leaders could have chosen to sustain their liberal internationalist perspectives and policies of the early years. Realism does not maintain that states must follow the “dictates” of the international distribution of power. It does, however, suggest that the systemic environment predisposes the choices of leaders and the behavior of states in certain directions and discourages others. In the Russian case, the liberal institutionalist option was disadvantaged in at least two respects. The Western states, although professing their friendship for Russia and their appreciation of the positive impact that change in the USSR had on their own interests and position in world affairs, were reluctant to weave Russia into the web of institutional linkages (NATO, the OECD, the G7, the European Union, etc.) that together arguably formed a regime stabilizing expectations and facilitating cooperation in the West. The proposed inclusion of a number of Central European states in NATO and the rejection of Russian calls for a strengthening of pan-European structures of cooperative security intensified Russian perception of exclusion. Since the Russians were left outside these structures by the choice of Western powers, it is not obvious that Russia could choose the liberal institutionalist alternative in the conjuncture of the early and mid-1990s. It apparently was not there.

With regard to the near abroad, there was no web of regimes similar to that affecting international politics in Western Europe. Few states of the region (including Russia), moreover, were stable internally. Since a degree of internal predictability is a necessary prerequisite for stable partnership in foreign relations, it is not clear that the liberal institutionalist choice was present in the near abroad either. To put it another way, there was an institutional deficit in the former Soviet Union. Moreover, given the legacy of Russia’s relations with the other states of the former Soviet Union, a Russian effort to construct consensual regimes in the area would be problematic at best. Consequently, and to return to Legvold’s terms, there was something about “the essence of international politics or the imperatives created by states that says, at this juncture, facing the problems that it does, Russia should better pursue a Monroe Doctrine in the ‘near abroad’ and a droit de regard in Central Europe than seek international regimes and multilateral machinery protecting its interests in these areas.” ₈₄

This leaves open the question of how these systemic factors impinged on the policy process. Although there is no space here to go into detail, they were clearly mediated by the domestic political process. ₈₅ At first glance, the post-1993 degree of consensus among relevant political circles on the realist agenda suggests that domestic politics is not the principal locus of explanation. On the other hand, issues such as the fate of the diaspora, local conflicts in the former Soviet republics, the treatment of the Serbs by the West, the various forms of partnership with NATO, and the structure of Russia’s economic relations with the West were (and are) all hotly debated in Russian political circles. One might, in fact, interpret the gradual conversion of the “westernizers” dominating the foreign policy bureaucracy to a russo-centric agenda in the face of substantial pressure from their parliamentary and other critics as evidence that their concern to sustain their domestic position determined the change in their foreign policy perspectives. Had they not embraced the cause of the diaspora and the Serbs, and had they not waffled on Partnership for Peace and resisted NATO expansion, they would have been even more vulnerable to criticisms for abandoning Russia’s national interest and status as a great power. ₈₆

However, this is not a full explanation. The question remains as to why such issues were salient in domestic politics. If it is true that their salience reflected popular and elite insecurities about instability in the near abroad and its implications for Russia, as well as resentment of loss of status in the international system and unequal treatment by the Western powers, then one might be led to the Gourevitch argument ₈₇ that, far from domestic politics determining unit level behavior in the system, systemic trends strongly affect domestic political processes relating to foreign policy within the units. The truth in the Russian case presumably lies somewhere in between, with foreign policy being the result of interconnected processes operating at both systemic and unit levels. The only claim being made here is that systemic factors clearly favored certain policy outcomes consistent with the predictive apparatus of realism outlined above, and that the record shows a reasonably close relationship between empirical outcomes and predictions. This suggests that, in this case anyway, the theoretical apparatus of realism has substantial power as an instrument for explaining and predicting Russian international behavior.

By way of conclusion, we should note that this is an “easy” case. Russia exists at the center of a group of weak states in an underinstitutionalized and especially anarchic periphery of the international system. Its connections to the established network of institutions and norms of European “international society” are fragile, and the military/political stresses that the regional subsystem place on Russia’s changing state apparatus are strong. ₈₈ The implications are clear. The relevance of realism to Russian strategy is case-specific in at least two senses. First, it reflects the particular circumstances of Russia at this point in its history, rather than some immutable logic of international politics, or, for that matter, the “Russian soul.” And, second, conclusions drawn from this case are not obviously generalizable, particularly with reference to states at the “core” of the international political system.

Table 7.1: Macroeconomic Indicators for the former Soviet Republics (1993)

Country	Population (1989) (millions)	GNP 1993 ($billions)	GNP Chg (1990-93)	% Chg in Consumer Prices (1991-93)	Debt 1994($billions)
Russia	148.92	1,160	-35	804	85
Ukraine	51.85	54.2	-34.6	1,535	1.6
Kazakhstan	17.407	18.2	-31.3	907	2
Belarus	10.491	16	-25.7	846	1.3
Uzbekistan	22.318	14	-11.8	528	?
Turkmenistan	3.987	3.8	-16.2	513	?
Tajikistan	5.897	2.5	-50.2	862	?
Kyrgyzstan	4.684	2.9	-34.4	751	?
Georgia	5.682	2.3	-66.2	3,664	.09
Armenia	3.421	1.9	-56.7	630	.011
Azerbaijan	7.462	4.4	-44.3	486	.082
Moldova	4.472	4.1	-36.7	779	.2
Estonia	1.623	1.7	-36.7	445	.1
Latvia	2.622	1.6	-49.6	394	.1
Lithuania	3.833	2.9	-54.5	552	.1
Sources: IISS, The Military Balance, 1994-5 (London: Brassey’s, 1994), General Accounting Office, Former Soviet Union: Creditworthiness of Successor States and U.S. Export Guarantees GAO/GGD-95-60 (Washington, DC, 1995), pp. 84, 89.

Table 7.2: The Military balance in the Former Soviet Union

Country	Military Personnel	Tanks	Combat air	Helicopters	Artillery
Russia	1,520,000	19,000	2,150	2,851	20,650
Ukraine	542,000	4,775	846	204	3,685
Kazakhstan	40,000	624	133	44	1,850
Belarus	98,400	2,348	349	40	1,579
Uzbekistan	25,000	179	126	43	325
Turkmenistana	11,000	530	171	20	345
Tajikistanb	2-3,000	?	?	13	?
Kyrgyzstan	7,000	204	0	65	3,685
Georgiac	?	48	2	1	60
Armenia	60,000	128	6	7	225
Azerbaijan	86,700	325	46	18	343
Moldova	11,850	0	27	8	61
Estonia	3,500	0	0	1	0
Latvia	6,950	0	0	5	45
Lithuania	8,900	0	0	3	0
a Turkmenistan’s armed forces are under formal joint (Russian-Turkmen) control. b Tajikistan has not yet formally constituted its armed forces. c Georgia’s armed forces are in a process of reconstitution after their rout in the 1992-3 campaign in Abkhazia. Enumeration has also been difficult as a result of the presence of large numbers of paramilitary formations occasionally cooperating with the army. The largest of these, Mkhedrioni, is currently being suppressed and disarmed by the Georgian government. Source: IISS, The Military Balance, 1995-96 (London: Oxford University Press, 1995).

 

Acknowledgment

The author is grateful to colleagues at Dalhousie University and Dartmouth College for their critical reactions to the analysis. The comments of an anonymous reviewer for Columbia University Press were very useful in finalizing the analysis.

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Endnotes

Note 1: S. Neil MacFarlane, “Russian Conceptions of Europe,” Post-Soviet Affairs 10 (3) (July–September 1994): 234–69. Back.

Note 2: Robert Legvold, “A Comment on Adomeit and MacFarlane,” Post-Soviet Affairs 10 (3) (July–September 1994): 272–73. Back.

Note 3: As one analyst of Russian foreign policy put it: “Moscow continues to lack a comprehensive blueprint of its national interests. All too often, the notion of national interests appears to have become a fig leaf behind which various economic or political groupings—from Russian arms merchants to oil or atomic energy interests to ultranationalist parliamentary groupings—advance their own agendas.” Stephen Foye, “A Hardened Stance on Foreign Policy,” Transition 1 (9): 40. Back.

Note 4: As discussed below, the Baltic Republics are a qualified exception to this generalization. Russian forces, under American and other Western pressure, have more or less completely withdrawn from their territory. This reflects the fact that European and American interest in Baltic sovereignty has been greater than that vis-à-vis the other former Soviet republics. Back.

Note 5: Or, as one author put it, “classical realism clearly offers more scope for voluntarism than does structural realism.” David Haglund, “Must NATO Fail? Theories, Myths, and Policy Dilemmas,” International Journal 50 (Autumn 1995): 665. Back.

Note 6: Steven Forde, “International Realism and the Science of Politics,” International Studies Quarterly 39 (2) (June 1995): 144. Back.

Note 7: For Morgenthau’s situating of realist theory in considerations of human nature, see Hans Morgenthau, Politics among Nations, 5th Edition (New York: Knopf, 1978), 3. Back.

Note 8: Paul Kennedy, ed, Grand Strategies in War and Peace (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1991), 6. Back.

Note 9: See Morgenthau, Politics among Nations, 5. Back.

Note 10: On this point, see Joseph Grieco, “Anarchy and the Limits of Cooperation,” in David Baldwin, ed., Neorealism and Neoliberalism (New York: Columbia University Press, 1993), 127: “Thus realists find that the major goal of states in any relationship is not to attain the highest possible individual gain or payoff. Instead, the fundamental goal of states in any relationship is to prevent others from achieving advances in their relative capabilities.” For the record, power is defined in this paper as the capacity of one actor to make another do what the latter would not otherwise choose. Back.

Note 11: Charles Lipson, “International Cooperation in Economic and Security Affairs,” in Baldwin, ed, Neorealism and Neoliberalism (New York: Columbia University Press, 1993): 71–72. Back.

Note 12: On the relationship between economics and security and the need to integrate the study of security into a broader analysis of “statecraft,” see, inter alia, David Baldwin, “Security Studies and the End of the Cold War,” World Politics 48 (1) (October 1995): 117–41. Back.

Note 13: See Stephen Walt, The Origins of Alliances (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1987). For a summary of some of the criticisms of Walt’s argument, see Randall L. Schweller, “Bandwagoning for Profit,” International Security 19 (1) (Summer 1994): 72–107. It might be objected that the balancing/bandwagoning dichotomy does not apply in Russia’s relations with the Western community, since the latter is not a threat. However, it is clear that important elements of the Russian foreign policy elite do perceive Western political, cultural, and economic penetration, as well as the persistence of NATO, to be threatening to both security and values. Back.

Note 14: See Schweller, “Bandwagoning for Profit,” p. 78, on this point. Back.

Note 15: On these points, see Robert Gilpin, War and Change in World Politics (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1981), passim. Back.

Note 16: Vladimir Popov, et al., The Russian Economy: Survey of 1994 and Forecasts for 1995 (Middlebury, VT: Geonomics, 1995), 9, 16. The authors note that by 1994, Russian GDP was approximately one half the level of 1989 (p. 8). Back.

Note 17: IISS, The Military Balance, 1995–96 (London: Oxford University Press, 1995), 119. This figure includes ground forces, naval forces (primarily the base at Sevastopol), and border forces. Back.

Note 18: However, Russian technicians continue to man the air defense radar at Kabala. Back.

Note 19: Moreover, although the Russian military operation in Chechnya has demonstrated considerable ineptitude, the Russian willingness and capacity to reduce to rubble those who defy them serves as a reasonably effective deterrent to emulation of the Chechen challenge by other disaffected minorities. Back.

Note 20: For a useful profile of Russian minorities in the other former Soviet republics, see “The New Russian Minorities: A Statistical Overview,” Post-Soviet Geography 34 (1) (1993): 1–27. Back.

Note 21: See Gilpin, War and Change in World Politics, 10. Back.

Note 22: On this point, see Sovet po Vneshnei I Oboronnoi Politike, “Vozroditsya li Soyuz?,” Nezavisimaya Gazeta (May 23, 1996). Back.

Note 23: R Ovinnikov, “SNG ne obuza dlya Moskvy,” Nezavisimaya Gazeta (April 16, 1994). Back.

Note 24: On this point, see Peter Rutland and Ustina Markus, “Russia as a Pacific Power,” Transition (August 1995). Back.

Note 25: On this point, see Ol’ga Zakharova, etal., “Nelegal’naya immigratsia v prigranychnykh raionakh Dal’nego Vostoka,” Mirovaya Ekonomika i Mezhdunarodnye Otnoshenia (1994) (12): 11–21. Back.

Note 26: The term is from Schweller, “Bandwagoning for Profit.” Back.

Note 27: For an example, see Zbigniew Brzezinski, “The Premature Partnership,” Foreign Affairs 78 (2) (April/May 1994): 67–82. Back.

Note 28: I take as authoritative official statements of foreign policy, national security, and military doctrine. The analyses of individuals, such as Andranik Migranyan and Sergei Karaganov, both close foreign policy advisers to the president at various times, also plausibly reflect official thinking on these subjects. Back.

Note 29: MID, “Kontseptsia Vneshney Politiki Rossiiskoi Federatsii, 25 yanvarya 1993g,” Document (1)615/IS. For a complete translation, see Foreign Broadcast Information Service-USR (Central Eurasia), 93–037 (March 25, 1993), 1–20. Back.

Note 30: See the description of “The Basic Provisions of the Military Doctrine of the Russian Federation” adopted by the Russian Federation Security Council in October 1993, in Rossiiskie Vesti (November 18, 1993), 1–2. See also Igor Tishin, “National Interests and Geopolitics: A Primer on the “Basic Provisions of the Military Doctrine of the Russian Federation,” European Security 4 (1) (Spring 1995): 107–31. Back.

Note 31: 35 RAU Corporation, “Russian National Security Concept for 1994,” Obozrevatel’, special supplement, December 14, 1993 Back.

Note 32: Andranik Migranyan, “Rossia i Blizhnee Zarubezh’e,” Nezavisimaya Gazeta (January 12, 1994), 1, 4. Back.

Note 33: “Ukaz Prezidenta Rossiiskoi Federatsii ob Utverzhdenii Strategicheskogo Kursa Rossiiskoi Federatsii c Gosudarstvami-uchastnikami Sodruzhestva Nezavisimykh Gosudarstv” 9 (40) (September 14, 1995): 1–8. Back.

Note 34: Nezavisimaya Gazeta (May 23, 1996). A full English translation (by John Henriksen of the Center for Science and International Affairs at Harvard University) is posted on the World Wide Web at http://www/columbia.edu/sec/dlc/ciao/wps/cfd01. Back.

Note 35: On this point, see MacFarlane, “Russian Conceptions of Europe,” pp. 250–54. Back.

Note 36: “National Security Concept,” pp. 2–3. Back.

Note 37: Migranyan, “Rossia i Blizhnee Zarubezh’e,” p. 4. Back.

Note 38: “Basic Provisions of Military Doctrine,” p. 2. See also “Kontseptsia Vneshnei Politiki,” 1. For a specific comment on this subject with regard to conflict in the Republic of Georgia, see Rossiiskaya Gazeta (August 31, 1993), 7. Back.

Note 39: On this point, see “Basic Provisions of Military Doctrine,” p. 3. Back.

Note 40: Lowell Bezanis, “On New Footing with Turkey?,” Transition 1 (10) (June 23, 1995), 41. Back.

Note 41: Kontseptsia Vneshnei Politiki,” p. 4. Or as Presidential adviser Migranyan put it: “This leads to the conclusion that the entire geopolitical space of the former Soviet Union is the sphere of vital interests of the Russian Federation. So there would be no doubt on the question of what was meant by vital interest, I was led to the parallel with the ‘Monroe Doctrine.’ ” Migranyan, “Rossia i Blizhnee Zarubezh’e,” p. 4. See also “Theses of the Council on Foreign and Defense Policy.” Back.

Note 42: As Yeltsin’s recent decree on relations with CIS states put it: “[Among] the basic tasks of Russian policy towards the states of the CIS is the strengthening of Russia as a leading force in the formation of a new system of interstate political and economic relations on the territory of the post-Soviet space” “Ukaz Prezidenta,” p. 1. The document goes on to advocate the creation of a customs union and payments union, and the development of common foreign and defense policies. In a rather revealing passage of this document, Yeltsin noted that, although participation in this process of integration was “voluntary,” the attitude of other CIS members to the integrative approach he was putting forward “will be an important factor defining the scale of economic, political, and military support from the Russian side” (p. 2). Back.

Note 43: Sergei Rogov, “Russia and the United States: A Partnership or Another Disengagement,” International Affairs (Moscow) 7 (1995): 3. Back.

Note 44: Migranyan, “Rossia i Blizhnee Zarubezh’e,” p. 4; Andrei Kozyrev, “The Lagging Partnership,” Foreign Affairs (May–June 1994): 59–70. Back.

Note 45: Ibid., 61–62. Back.

Note 46: On this point, see David Kerr, “The New Eurasianism: The Rise of Geopolitics in Russia’s Foreign Policy,” Europe-Asia Studies 47 (6) (1995), 977–88. Back.

Note 47: See “Kontseptsia Vneshnei Politiki,” p. 13. Back.

Note 48: Krasnaya Zvezda (November 1, 1995), p 3. Back.

Note 49: This is an interesting example of the propensity for smaller states to trade away autonomy in return for the public good of stability, underlining the partly voluntary quality of regional hegemony. Karimov and his colleagues clearly viewed Russia as a threat to their freedom of action, but saw the instability typified by the Tajik conflict as the greater threat. They were, consequently, willing to support an expanded Russian military role in the region. Back.

Note 50: For a more extended discussion of the nature of Russian strategy in the Transcaucasus, see S. Neil MacFarlane, “The Structure of Instability in the Caucasus,” Internationale Politik und Gesellschaft (October 1995). Back.

Note 51: The military cooperation agreement remains unratified by the Georgian Parliament. The Georgian and Armenian cases are part of a broader pattern of Russian pressure on the governments of the other former Soviet republics to formalize Russian base rights See, for example, Dan Ionescu, “Russia’s Long Arm and the Dniester Impasse,” Transition 1 (19) (20 October, 1995): 14. Back.

Note 52: On this point, see Elizabeth Fuller, “The ‘Near Abroad’: Influence and Oil in Russian Diplomacy,” Transition 1 (6) (April 28, 1995): 34. Back.

Note 53: For a useful analysis of the Crimean question in Russian-Ukrainian relations, see Ustina Markus, “Shoring up Russian Relations,” Transition 1 (6) (April 28, 1995): 57. Back.

Note 54: Ibid., 58. Back.

Note 55: In September 1993, Russia and Ukraine had agreed that Ukraine would sell its share of the fleet to Russia to redeem energy debt. In April 1994, Yeltsin and Ukrainian President Leonid Kravchuk confirmed this approach, proposing that Ukraine would sell part of its half of the fleet to Russia. In June, 1995, Yeltsin and Kravchuk’s successor, Leonid Kuchma, signed the Sochi Agreement, according to which the fleet would be divided in half and that Ukraine would sell 60% back to Russia. For a useful discussion of the evolution of these discussions, see Ustina Markus, “Black Sea Fleet Dispute Apparently Over,” Transition 1 (13) (June 1995). The issues of basing, and how precisely to divide the fleet were finally resolved in 1997. Russia and Ukraine signed an agreement involving Russian leasing of two bays at Sevastopol and a month later transferred thirty-five submarines and other vessels to Ukraine, with more to follow. IISS, The Military Balance, 1997/1998 (Oxford: Oxford University Press for the IISS, 1997), 102. Back.

Note 56: GAO, Former Soviet Union: Creditworthiness of Successor States, 108. Back.

Note 57: The only available exit route for Kazakhstan’s oil from the Tengiz field is via existing pipelines, at least 640 kilometers of which pass through the Russian Federation. Chevron made its initial investment decision based on assurances from the Russians that this capacity would be available for its oil. Russia, however, has failed to honor its commitments. The Caspian Sea Pipeline Consortium—which controls the relevant pipeline, and in which Russia is a key player—has presented terms that in Chevron’s judgment make proceeding with the Tengiz project unprofitable. See Anne Reifenberg, “Dream Clashes with Pipeline Politics,” Wall Street Journal, as reprinted in The Globe and Mail (October 30, 1995), p.B24. Back.

Note 58: The oil and gas fields of western Kazakhstan are connected to the Western Siberian industrial complex in the Russian Federation. Eastern and southern Kazakstan is supplied with fuel by pipeline from the oil producing centers of the Ob River Basin. There is no pipeline connection between the oil producing and oil-consuming regions of Kazakstan. On this point, and its link to Russian pressure for a share in the development of the Karachaganak gas field, see Central Asia Monitor 4 (1994): 9. Back.

Note 59: Interviews with Georgian diplomatic personnel (Charlottesville, October 1995). Back.

Note 60: In November 1995, CIS Defense Ministers concluded an agreement on joint air defense, whereby Russia will finance the upgrading of jointly managed air defense systems in Georgia, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, Armenia, Kazakhstan, and Uzbekistan. Moldova, Azerbaijan, Turkmenistan, and Ukraine refused to participate in the joint system. Scott Parrish, “Russia Contemplates the Risks of Expansion,” Transition 1 (23) (December 15, 1995): 12. Back.

Note 61: Yeltsin, “The Strategic Course of Russia,” 1. Back.

Note 62: Although one would hardly argue that they were jeopardizing their interests in so doing, since full implementation of the protocol would leave Russia as the only nuclear power in the former Soviet Union and would deny nuclear capability to the largest potentially hostile state in the region—Ukraine. Back.

Note 63: On this point, see Sumner Benson, “Can the United States and Russia Reshape the International Strategic Environment?,” Comparative Strategy 14 (1995): 241–48. Back.

Note 64: In the context of the levels of analysis debate, and in particular the debate over the weighing of domestic versus systemic determinants of foreign policy, it is noteworthy that in its late stages, Russian acquiescence in NATO escalation proceeded in the face of substantial parliamentary disillusionment. Following the July 1995 NATO air strikes against Serbia, the Duma passed a resolution calling for Russian withdrawal from sanctions against Serbia by a vote of 246–0, and passed a resolution condemning the air strikes by a margin of 277–1. See Scott Parrish, “Twisting in the Wind: Russia and the Yugoslav Conflict,” Transition 1 (20) (1995): 29. Back.

Note 65: As one observer put it in December 1995, “Not a single political figure approves of the idea, and the leaders of every major Russian political party, from Yegor Gaidar to Vladimir Zhirinovsky, have openly opposed any enlargement of the alliance.” Parrish, “Russia Contemplates the Risks of Expansion,” p. 11. Back.

Note 66: Cited in James Hoagland, “Advice for Avoiding Bad Trouble in U.S.-Russian Relations,” IHT (10/1/97): 8. Back.

Note 67: This has been confirmed by interview with diplomats involved in these deliberations. Back.

Note 68: For example, Parrish, “Twisting in the Wind . . .”, passim. Back.

Note 69: It is noteworthy that newly independent states such as Georgia and Azerbaijan, who balked at ratification of the flank revisions, came under heavy American pressure to sign on. Back.

Note 70: One prominent Russian analyst referred to this as a process of damage control. See Sergei Oznobishchev, “Cooperation between Russia and NATO: Doubts and Prospects,” Prism 10 (2): 1. Back.

Note 71: For the text, see gopher://cc1.kuleuven.ac.be:/71/00/lsvarch/NATODATA/LOG9705.E.6044. Back.

Note 72: Vladimir Popov, Ekonomicheskie Reformy v Rossii: Tri Godya Spustya (Moscow: Rossiiskii Nauchnyi Fond, December 1994), 46–47. Back.

Note 73: Popov refers in this context to the export of raw materials as the “locomotive” of Russian recovery, ibid., 52. Back.

Note 74: In 1993, for example, the government imposed a 20% VAT on almost all imported goods, as well as 15–20% customs duties; see Victor Kurierov, “External Economic Relations,” in Geonomics, The Russian Economy: Survey of 1993 and Forecasts for 1994 (Middlebury, VT: Geonomics, 1994), 72. Back.

Note 75: For a useful summary of these developments, see “Russia’s Defence Industry: Firing Back,” The Economist (December 2, 1995), 72–73. Back.

Note 76: See Ustina Markus, “To Counterbalance Russian Power, China Leans toward Ukraine,” Transition (September 22, 1995), 34–36. Back.

Note 77: Waltz, Theory of International Politics, 13. Back.

Note 78: It may also translate into significant economic advantage. In 1992, the United States agreed to pay Russia more than $10 billion for 500 metric tons of weapons grade uranium from dismantled Soviet weapons. Andreas Heinrich and Heiko Pleines, “Russia’s ‘Nuclear Flea Market’ Tempts Smugglers,” Transition (November 17, 1995), 11. Back.

Note 79: World Bank and Planecon data, as cited in GAO, Former Soviet Union, 59, 65, 76. Back.

Note 80: On this point, see David Haglund and S Neil MacFarlane, Change in the Former Soviet Union and Its Implications for the Canadian Minerals Sector. (Kingston, ON: Centre for Resource Studies, 1994). Back.

Note 81: Conversation with author, Herstmonceux Castle, United Kingdom, December 8, 1995. Back.

Note 82: Data from 1994 suggest dramatic improvement in the Russian inflation rate, a stabilization in the ruble/dollar exchange rate, a slowing in the rate of GNP reduction, increases in real disposable income and retail sales, an increases in export revenues See Popov (1995), et al., passim. This continued into 1995, despite the temptations of reflating the economy in advance of the parliamentary elections of December 1995. Inflation continued to drop in 1996 and 1997 while some evidence emerged of expansion in output in key sectors of the Russian economy, leading some to conclude that Russian growth rates had once again become positive. Back.

Note 83: For an interesting examination of this point, see John Erickson, “The Russians Are Coming—But Not Just Yet,” Queen’s Quarterly102 (2) (Summer 1995): 297–312. Back.

Note 84: Legvold, “Comment on Adomeit and MacFarlane,” pp. 272–73. Back.

Note 85: For a discussion of domestic politics and Russian foreign policy formulation, see MacFarlane, “Russian Conceptions of Europe,” pp. 262–265. Back.

Note 86: Ironically, this may also have been the result of democratization itself. Matthew Evangelista has argued that one of the factors assisting in the radical redefinition of foreign policy perspectives during the Gorbachev era was the nature of authoritarian political structure. This made it possible for a small group of experts to lobby for substantial change without equivalent input from parties negatively affected by the change and who might have effectively opposed it if they had had similar access. See Matthew Evangelista, “The Paradox of State Strength: Transnational Relations, Domestic Structures, and Security Policy in Russia and the Soviet Union,” International Organization 49 (1) (Winter 1995): 1–38. From the perspective of this essay, the implication is that the more pluralistic the process becomes, the more difficult it is for a political leadership to ignore the perspectives of interest groups (e.g. the military) or opinion clusters (e.g. the nationalists) whose preferences were ignored in the flirtation with liberal internationalism. Back.

Note 87: Peter Gourevitch, “The Second Image Reversed: The International Sources of Domestic Politics,” International Organization 32 (2) (Autumn 1978): 881–912. Back.

Note 88: This point recalls the analysis of the differences in the international relations between “core” and “periphery” in James Goldgeier and Michael McFaul, “A Tale of Two Worlds: Core and Periphery in the Post-Cold War Era,” International Organization 64 (2) (Spring 1992): 467–91. See also Barry Buzan’s conception of international society in terms of “concentric circles” of commitment to norms and institutions. Barry Buzan, “From International System to International Society: Structural Realism and Regime Theory Meet the English School,” International Organization 47 (3) (Summer 1993): 349. Back.

Unipolar Politics: Realism and State Strategies After the Cold War