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Bush-Putin summits are like vacation getaways taken by couples seeking to re-ignite the spark in their marriage. But a few romantic days on the beach in Acapulco cannot solve deeper problems of spousal infidelity or a troubled family life.
In much the same way, the Russian-U.S. relationship shines at summit meetings. President George W. Bush declared that his Russian counterpart is "a good fellow to spend quality time with" and the official communiqu? proclaims that the two leaders "focused on practical ways to broaden and deepen cooperation and partnership between the United States and Russia."
No one doubts that the two presidents have an excellent personal rapport. The problem is not that the leaders cannot find common ground on issues ranging from combating international terrorism to stopping nuclear proliferation. It is that neither president has been successful in translating their personal relationship into effective, broad-based cooperation between Russian and U.S. institutions.
At Camp David, both presidents issued "specific instructions to their respective governments identifying tasks to be undertaken," but the reality is that such instructions have a way of losing force as they make their way down the chain of command -- unless both leaders are prepared to expend massive amounts of political capital to force change.
One reporter at the press conference on Saturday afternoon asked whether or not Russian-American relations still exist primarily at a "declarative level." While there has been progress (as President Vladimir Putin has noted, the volume of bilateral trade grew by more than one-third in the first six months of 2003), there are still major roadblocks that prevent the full consummation of the relationship.
If the Bush administration cannot get the U.S. Congress to graduate Russia from an archaic piece of Cold War-era trade legislation whose conditions have been fulfilled for over a decade, why should any Russian be confident that Bush can deliver on other promises of assistance? In the past year, Russia has been asked to forgive a large portion of its Iraqi debt, cease profitable trading arrangements with Iran, and accept the possible loss of lucrative contracts in Iraq with no guarantee that the billions in lost revenue (not only to Russian business but to the state itself) would be recouped elsewhere. Many Russians feel they have already conceded so much to the United States -- with little to show for it -- that further concessions are unwise.
If the Putin administration, for its part, cannot provide firm assurances that Russian state and private entities are not engaging in activities that impinge upon fundamental U.S. interests, such as supplying critical technologies to rogue states (even if such actions may be technically legal, e.g. by using third parties) and if it is unable to implement policies designed to ensure the fair execution of the rule of law, then Russia's "trust deficit" with Americans will persist.
Too many on both sides treat U.S.-Russian ties as a Christmas tree, hanging parochial or narrow special interests that weigh heavily upon the branches of the bilateral relationship. Initiatives proposed at the presidential level wither away in the offices of the bureaucracy or on the debating floors of the Congress and the State Duma. I doubt anyone is holding their breath awaiting the unveiling of new programs designed to foster "cooperation in high technology, housing and health," for example.
In fact, the inability to reach substantive agreements over Iraq and Iran demonstrates the continuing absence of powerful constituencies, in both Russia and the United States, able to transcend those interests in both countries that are capable of throwing up roadblocks to further cooperation. As long as the relationship is substantively confined to the contours of the two presidential administrations, it cannot sink deep roots in either society.
Camp David exposed the limits of personal diplomacy. Neither Bush nor Putin can afford to alienate key domestic constituencies, especially not in the run-up to an election year. Thus, the preference for vague declarations about cooperation and the repeated mantra that both sides can agree to disagree on vital issues in place of substantive developments in the U.S.-Russian relationship.
Two notable exceptions exist. The first has been the slow but steady growth of intelligence sharing in the war against terrorism. The successful "sting operation" that prevented terrorists from acquiring shoulder-fired surface-to-air missiles that could down commercial jetliners demonstrates the fruits of such cooperation.
The second is the emerging partnership for energy security. Close cooperation between Russian and U.S. oil and gas conglomerates is taking place because the private firms themselves realize that it is in their interests to push the relationship forward. Presidential directives signed at summit meetings can aid this cooperation, but have not created it -- rather it has grown out of a convergence of concrete interests and closer contacts.
So, the trick is to transfer the model of U.S.-Russian security and energy cooperation to other sectors, promoting and deepening military-to-military relations, small and medium business investment, ties between educational institutions, and so on. This is not something summit meetings can achieve.
The talks at Camp David were the easy part. The follow-up is where the real challenge lies. After two years of declarations, now is the time for action.
Nikolas K. Gvosdev is the executive editor of The National Interest and a senior fellow at The Nixon Center. He contributed this comment to The Moscow Times.
