The New Technocracy

The recent collapse of the widely publicized efforts to force Defense Minister Pavel Grachev to resign was the clearest demonstration yet that the offensive potential of the State Duma is waning. In the foreseeable future, even during the upcoming debates on the 1995 federal budget project, it is unlikely that there will be any serious clashes between the president and the parliament, despite predictions to the contrary.


It was only a short while ago that the deputies in the lower chamber of parliament were feeling extremely aggressive toward President Boris Yeltsin. Take, for example, the first reading of the amendments to the criminal code, according to which senior government officials would be held criminally responsible for violations of the constitution. There can be no doubt that the author of this proposal, communist delegate Viktor Ilyukhin, had Yeltsin in mind.


In short, in recent weeks we have seen one attack on Yeltsin after another and, it seemed clear that the Duma was intent on expanding its authority beyond the limitations of the present constitution. Now, suddenly, all is quiet.


In general, however, if you look back over recent Russian history, this seems perfectly logical. It long ago became clear that all the president had to do was weaken his position a little bit or give deputies any reason to suspect him of weakness, and suddenly all sorts of attacks on the executive branch would begin. And, what is more, the figure of Yury Skokov would again appear on the horizon.


In principle, this pattern could be considered a positive thing. Even if the parliament does not have any real power to influence the government, at the very least it can keep the president from weakening by forcing him constantly to defend his qualifications. We have been witnesses to this process over the last two weeks or so. After two unexpected defeats (the negative public reaction to his trips to Germany and the United States, and the fallout from Black Tuesday), which shook his position, Yeltsin conducted a masterly reshuffling of his cabinet and, through energetic action, was able to neutralize his opponents. As a result, parliament has backed down and the figure of Skokov has receded into the shadows.


Even though these political maneuvers followed the well-worn pattern, we can also see several new elements in them.


It is not hard to remember exactly what Russia's first reformist cabinet of ministers was like: Yegor Gaidar's government was a government of personalities. Virtually every minister was an independent political figure. Although this was a great strength of that government, it was also a dangerous weakness. Such prominent political figures, naturally, had a tendency to conflict with one another. Also, it was difficult for them to adjust to the bureaucratic apparatus that they inherited from Soviet times. Most important, it was difficult for them to subordinate themselves to the will of their superiors.


As early as 1992, Yeltsin, caught up in the unending struggles within his entourage, was faced with a dilemma: Either he could continue to politicize the executive branch (which would have left him as a mere arbitrator above the fray) or he could transform the structures of the executive branch into an instrument that was completely obedient to him. For two years he was able to balance between these two extremes -- as shown, for example, by Gaidar leaving the government, returning, then leaving again. Now, though, it would seem that the choice has been made. And the reason for this was, as might have been expected, the declining popularity of Boris Yeltsin.


The recent cabinet changes make it clear beyond a doubt that a government of disciplined bureaucrats has been created, one that is oriented toward and dependent upon the president alone. What is more, the transformation was accomplished rather gracefully. For one thing, inasmuch as the support of the democrats is still essential,Yeltsin promoted Anatoly Chubais and appointed Yevgeny Yasin to be economics minister. This move was no mistake: Gaidar's Duma faction continues, although with great difficulty, to give formal support to Yeltsin -- which is particularly important as the budget debates get underway.


At the same time, however, Chubais has lost the ability to act independently, having lost the reigns of the State Property Committee, the Finance Ministry and the Trade Ministry. These bodies are now headed by Yeltsin's men.


Throughout the reshuffling of government, Yeltsin was careful to maintain his support for Prime Minister Viktor Chernomyrdin, who just a month ago was rumored to be about to resign. In the fall, Yeltsin refused Chernomyrdin's request to fire Alexander Shokhin, Yury Shafranik and Vladimir Kvasov. Now, though, he has almost completely granted it. Shokhin and Kvasov (suspected, like Shafranik, of having some sort of agreement with Skokov) have left. And Vladimir Babichev, Chernomyrdin's man, has taken over as the head of the government apparatus. Informed sources say that Shafranik remains in the government largely to keep Chernomyrdin from getting too comfortable.


In short, we have every reason to conclude that a new government of bureaucrats and technocrats has formed, that the head of that government is Viktor Chernomyrdin, and that Boris Yeltsin is in firm, overall control. This explains the loss of authority suffered by Sergei Shakhrai, a "pure politician" left over from Gaidar's days. Against this background, the resignation of Yeltsin's press secretary Vyacheslav Kostikov seems completely logical, and there is no reason to speculate about what kind of person his replacement will be. No matter what his name is, he will certainly be a disciplined bureaucrat. One thing is certain: This new government has no need of politicians. One politician -- Yeltsin -- is enough.





Sergei Chugayev is a political commentator for Izvestia. He contributed this comment to The Moscow Times.