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Russia's Electoral Time Bomb

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Few would dispute that the upcoming presidential election is devoid not only of competition, but even of the intrigue that attended the previous presidential election, despite the fact that even then the outcome was effectively a foregone conclusion. Indeed this time round, it is not so much an election as a vote of confidence in President Vladimir Putin. For the first time since Gorbachev's perestroika, the Kremlin has openly renounced key elements of the electoral process. The unexpected dismissal of the Kasyanov government last week, due to the timing, is evidence of a rather clumsy attempt by the Kremlin to generate some intrigue to disguise the fact that the election is essentially a referendum on Putin.

This referendum is, nonetheless, more important than all previous elections. Prior elections played a role in the formation of the "new system": they regulated the balance of forces, strengthened private property and averted a return to communism. But more importantly than that, these elections, including those in 1999-2000, contained an element of uncertainty regarding the direction of the country's development: Russia could have moved toward oligarchic capitalism or bureaucratic capitalism, but could also have moved in the direction of real democracy.

The current round of elections play a qualitatively different role -- they mark the end of Russia's liberal democratic experiment. They are not about development, but about the formalization of the post-Communist system. From now on, it will not be possible to alter the rules of the game, create a party bottom-up, win an election without approval from the authorities or force one's way to the top independently. Provided, of course, that there is not a crisis which forces a reorganization of the whole political system on Russia. In any case, the period of spontaneous development in Russia is over. From now on, the only source of spontaneity will be the unintended consequences of the authorities' own actions.

The main characteristics of the new system, legitimized by the elections in 1999-2000, are: a consolidated bureaucracy as the mainstay of the regime; the "power" ministries playing a significant (though not key) role; de-ideologizing of politics and the regime; and the weakening of the role of parties and their replacement by corporations. The new system is geared to preserving the status quo that has emerged under Putin -- it is lumbering, inert and inherently averse to innovation. Such a system has limited potential for modernization.

The December parliamentary elections served to consolidate the new system of rule. The presidential election, in turn, should legitimize the Putin model of "personified power." In contrast to the chaos of the Yeltsin era, characterized by constant personnel reshuffles, the central role of the Family oligarchs and anti-Communism, Putin builds his relations with society on the principle of subordination, pressure and the absence of ideology, using support from the state machine and corporations.

Paradoxically, Yeltsin was more willing to enter into clashes than Putin, who only seems to resort to a show of strength, when it is absolutely necessary or he feels personally threatened. It is no less curious that Boris Yeltsin, who was part of the Soviet regime, tried to obtain new legitimacy by destroying the old regime. However, concentrating too much on "destruction" meant he was unable to move ahead with modernization. Putin, even having gone through the liberal school of working in the administration of the late Anatoly Sobchak, is proving to be more of a traditionalist than Yeltsin, looking to the past to provide a guarantee of stability. Moreover, Putin's aims are incompatible: to make a traditional state the motor of modernization.

There can be no doubt that for Putin, the upcoming election is extremely important, even though he is sure to win. Having been appointed "tsar" by Yeltsin, Putin needs the real legitimacy conferred by an election. He needs this both to consolidate his hold on power and to avoid the danger of becoming a hostage of the bureaucracy and the "power" agencies, which he himself has permitted to strengthen their political weight.

However, in order to become a fully-fledged leader, Putin needs a real, hard-fought election campaign with debates, stump-speeches, and a vigorous contest views and platforms. Such a limited degree of competition would not be a serious threat to the president, but it would make his victory, if not convincing, then at least not humiliating for him. Power which is won without a fight is no better than power bestowed by one's predecessor, and moreover is unstable.

However, the Kremlin has decided to go down a different path, completely purging the political arena and turning the president's artificially created sparring-partners into midges -- some of whom the Kremlin ignores, others of whom it squashes with ill-disguised sadism.

But why have the authorities chosen to throw all niceties out the window? The thing is, the election farce is suicidal for Putin if he wants to present himself as a civilized, Europeanized leader -- which he does. What is the motive for this political purge: the Kremlin's fear of a re-run of the "Lebed phenomenon"? But who could aspire to this role (are they really afraid of little Sergei Glazyev)? Or perhaps it is a reflex among the president's team to crush everything that moves in order to prove one's loyalty to the boss. It could also be an attempt to discredit Putin or to push him toward a toughening of the regime. Most likely, however, the electoral farce reflects the Kremlin's insecurity about maintaining power for the foreseeable future.

In any case, abolishing political competition, which Russia had just been getting used to, does a disservice to Putin by depriving him of genuine legitimacy.

Manipulation of the elections could turn out to be a time bomb under the foundations of the new system by undermining the authorities' legitimacy, at a time when other forms of legitimization are lacking (by means of ideology, the party etc.). Of course, the regime could always resort to the use of force, but it would be wrong to overestimate the Kremlin's willingness to use force in the absence of a loyal bureaucracy and army.

Electoral manipulation, by creating a gulf between the authorities and the public, and depriving the regime of a true understanding of what's going on in society, undermines the stability and the durability of the system as a whole. But the Kremlin cannot revert to free elections, fearing that the edifice it has painstakingly constructed may come tumbling down in a landslide. Even liberals and democrats, observing the strengthening of nationalist and populist tendencies (incidentally, a trend inspired by the authorities themselves), are forced to ask themselves what would be preferable: free and fair elections that could hand power to Dmitry Rogozin and Vladimir Zhirinovsky, or elections controlled by the bureaucracy?

Putin finds himself in a contradictory position: He is clearly in favor of Westernization, but the electoral farce is forcing his alienation from the West. At the same time, this farce also undermines the stability of his power in the eyes of the Russian public.

What will happen when it becomes manifestly apparent that by renouncing political competition not only is the Kremlin endangering its modernization project but is also undermining stability: Will it choose to abandon elections altogether, a la Turkmenbashi, or will it abandon its attempts to control the outcome of elections?

Lilia Shevtsova, a senior associate of the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, contributed this comment to The Moscow Times.

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