Russia’s conduct toward Ukraine and other formerly Soviet states in Eurasia reflects the lack of a cohesive grand strategy on the Kremlin’s part. A critical flaw is that the logic of confrontation inherent in its doctrine of protecting Russian-speakers living abroad contradicts President Vladimir Putin’s intention to forge Eurasia’s economic integration.
Ever since the Soviet Union’s collapse in 1991, Russian policymakers have wrestled with the question of where does Russia (as a national community and as a state) begin and where does it end? In all of Putin’s recent speeches, especially those related to the Ukraine crisis, a murky notion of a Russkii Mir (Russian World) has figured prominently.
“We will always defend ethnic Russians in Ukraine,” said Putin in early July at a gathering of Russian ambassadors. He added that Moscow’s protection will be extended to “that part of the Ukrainian people who feels linked by unbreakable ties to Russia – not only by ethnic, but also cultural and linguistic ties; who regard themselves as part of a broader Russian World.”
Trying to comprehend what defines “the Russian world” begins with an examination of Putin’s efforts to bring about a Eurasian Union. According to the Kremlin’s geopolitical outlook, the Eurasian Union is the fundamental building block of a strategy to maintain Russia as a global power. For Russia to compete globally with the United States, China or the European Union, it needs to have a regional bloc behind it, Russian leaders believe.
Viewed through this strategic prism, Russia’s move against Ukraine is rooted in the Kremlin’s determination to bring Kyiv into the Eurasian fold and prevent the West from gaining a “strategic bridgehead” on the territory of Russkii Mir.
Ultimately, Russkii Mir is designed to be the ethno-cultural component of Putin’s Eurasian Union plan. Here, however, Kremlin ideology hits a speed bump: Russkii Mir, as some astute analysts argue, is not so much a transnational “community of ethnic Russians or societies committed to Russian culture,” it is more of a specific “civilization” – an “unwesternizable” and “unmodernizable” one that is based, in the words of Anton Shekhovtsov, on distinctly “un-Western” principles, including “disdain for liberal democracy, suppression of human rights, and undermining the rule of law.”
Regardless of ethnicity, then, whoever shares the philosophical outlook of Russkii Mir belongs in it, and, automatically, should be considered a prospective member of the “Eurasian Union” because the group represents, in the words of Aleksandr Lukin, a pro-Kremlin analyst, an explicitly “non-Western model.”
A significant problem for Putin is that the drive toward Eurasian integration is counterbalanced by a domestic trend toward disengagement, which is the byproduct of a profound shift in Russian public attitudes. In the minds of a growing number of Russians, the millions of labor migrants now working in Russia (mostly from the Caucasus and Central Asia), are associated with drug smuggling, violence and criminality.
Migration is a complex phenomenon across the board, and it plays a particularly controversial role in relations between Russia and ex-Soviet nations. On the one hand, labor migrants constitute one of the strongest links connecting Russia to post-Soviet Eurasia. But on the other, it acts as a major irritant, fostering alienation and enmity among ethnic communities and spurring xenophobia among Russian nationalists. It is noteworthy that the segment of Russian society that is critical of labor migration is far broader than just pockets of skinheads. In fact, migration-related issues are becoming an important element in the discourses on Russian foreign policy and on Russian identity.
When it comes to the Ukraine crisis, Russian nationalists have exhibited contradictory reactions – something that may be prompting Putin to think twice about how far to push things. The reality is most Russian ethnic and civic nationalists share a rather dim view of “Eurasian integration.” The general consensus among them is that preventing what they see as the social degradation of Central Asian societies is futile, thus it is folly to seek an alliance with them. Simply stated, Russian nationalists believe Central Asia will drag Russia down.
Believing the concept of a “Russian World” to be slightly disguised neo-imperialism, liberal nationalists are advocating a different approach: Instead of trying to “integrate” formerly Soviet states economically, or strive to control them by employing the tactic of “managed instability,” Russia should craft a smart repatriation policy, they contend.
The mass resettlement of ethnic Russians now living in other formerly Soviet republics, in addition to attracting skilled workers among other nationalities who share an affinity for Russian culture, would be beneficial to Russia both economically and politically, liberal nationalist thinking goes. So the guiding principle of the liberal-nationalist version of a Russkii Mir is this: rather than gathering “Russian lands,” Moscow should gather “Russian” people.
Under Putin’s notion of a Russkii Mir, he is playing a dangerous game of trying to push Russia’s borders outward. A much more efficient and less risky strategy would be to encourage Russians to return home. Russia already has more than enough territory to suit its needs.
This commentary was first published at Eurasianet and was reprinted here with permission.
]]>Almost 80 years ago, ideological true believers from all over the world flocked to Spain to fight in a civil war, serving in the famed International Brigades on the Republican side. These days, echoes of Spain can be found in Ukraine, where foreign ideologues now can be found battling separatists backed by [...]]]>
Almost 80 years ago, ideological true believers from all over the world flocked to Spain to fight in a civil war, serving in the famed International Brigades on the Republican side. These days, echoes of Spain can be found in Ukraine, where foreign ideologues now can be found battling separatists backed by Vladimir Putin’s Russia.
So far, the scale of foreigners going to Ukraine to fight is far smaller than was the case during the Spanish Civil War. For example, of the roughly 250 volunteers in the Azov Battalion, an irregular unit fighting for the Ukrainian government, 12 are foreign and 24 reinforcements from abroad are expected to arrive soon.
“We are not mercenaries, we are volunteers who receive no pay at all and fight for a righteous cause,” said Gaston Besson, a former French paratrooper who helps oversee the battalion’s foreign cohort. “We are anti-communist, but the spirit is the same as that of the International Brigades that fought [against Fascism] in Spain in the thirties.”
In June, Besson posted an appeal for foreign volunteers to join the Azov Battalion on his Facebook page. “You will find nothing but trouble, war, adventure, and perhaps death or serious injury, but you will definitely have great memories and make life-long friends,” he wrote.
“Every day I receive dozens of requests to join us by e-mail, especially from countries like Finland, Norway and Sweden,” added Besson, who has lots of combat experience from conflicts all over the world. “I reject 75 percent of them. We do not want trigger-happy fanatics, drug addicts, or alcoholics. The volunteers must pay for their own ticket and then begin training in Kyiv before being sent to the front lines.”
The battalion, which was formed in April, had its baptism of fire on June 13, when the unit participated in an operation to retake the pro-Russian controlled city of Mariupol, situated on the north coast of the Sea of Azov, in southeastern Ukraine.
Many of the Azov Battalion members describe themselves as ultra-right Ukrainian nationalists. They proudly wear symbols and use slogans associated with neo-Nazis, such as black t-shirts with the Celtic cross. Football ultras have also joined the ranks of the battalion, which was founded by the National Social Assembly, a confederation of ultra-nationalist organizations, as well as Ukrainian groups that oppose alignment with the European Union and NATO. This far-right ideology is what continues to draw like-minded activists from Sweden, Italy, France, Italy, Canada and even Russia.
For an Italian citizen in the Azov Battalion, 53-year-old Francesco F., the fight in Ukraine has given him a sense of purpose. “On the Maidan barricades I was like ET, finding ‘home’ on the side of Ukrainian nationalists”, said Francesco, who during the 1970s and 80s was affiliated with the National Vanguard ultra-right movement in Italy. “After the annexation of the Crimea and the explosion of the Eastern part of the country, I could not abandon them [Ukrainians] to face the Russian threat alone. That’s why I chose to enlist and fight.”
At their camp at Berdyansk, a city on the Azov Sea roughly 80 miles southwest of Donetsk, members of the battalion lined up one day recently, all wearing balaclavas to cover their faces for fear of repercussions should they be identified. At the order of their commander, they ran to a battered van that was to take them to a firing range.
On their way to shooting practice and maneuvers, fighters paid homage to their Italian comrade Francesco F. by singing a hymn honoring Mussolini. Francesco, whom everybody calls “Don,” or “uncle,” fights under the nom de guerre Stan.
Francesco was sitting next to Severin, a 20 year-old Swedish volunteer who has a tattoo on his bodybuilder-like biceps with the inscription “son of Odin.” A pounding nationalist rock song called “Death to the Enemy” played from a mobile phone, and battalion members took turns insulting Russian President Vladimir Putin’s manhood.
At the firing range, a Swedish instructor offered training on urban warfare. The man, who did not want to be identified, was dressed in black, shaved, lean, and muscular. “I came to train you in the most difficult tactics, urban warfare.” He harangued the battalion with the attitude of an officer. “I will show you how to break into a building, take it and, if you are lucky, get out of it alive.”
Mikael Skillt is perhaps the most well-known foreign fighter of the battalion. This Swedish sniper, with seven years’ experience in the Swedish Army and the Swedish National Guard, was a member of the neo-Nazi Svenskarnas party in Sweden. He is one of the few fighters who agreed to speak without covering his face; he supposedly has a 5,000 euro (80,000 gryvna) bounty put on his head by pro-Russian elements. This amount in Ukraine is worth over the average yearly wage.
“They can come get me if they want. I fight against the idiots who believe in what Putin says,” he declared. “At Mariupol, a sniper tried to shoot me from a window. After locating him, I waited until he was a little uncovered and then pulled the trigger. He just had no hope,” Skillt said.
Dressed in his camouflage combat fatigues, Skillt explained what drove him to enlist in the Azov Battalion, “I saw on TV snipers killing civilians and nationalists on Maidan Square, so I decided to join in.” He confessed that he gets a rush out of combat, “There is something special when your heart is beating like mad and you see all these bullets flying around and bouncing on the ground near you.”
Muran, a young Russian who also fights with the Azov Battalion, said he came to Ukraine because he wanted to help bring down Putin’s government. He does not know if he will be able to go back to Russia, as he is now considered a traitor. “I would rather blow myself up with a grenade than be captured alive,” said the masked 24 year old from the Ural Mountains.
– Fausto Biloslavo is a freelance journalist who works in Ukraine. Laura Lesevre served as a translator in gathering information for this report. This article was first published by EurasiaNet and was reprinted here with permission. Copyright EurasiaNet.
Photo: The Azov Battalion, a volunteer paramilitary unit, consists primarily of far-right activists, including around a dozen foreign volunteer fighters from countries such as Sweden, France, Finland, Italy and Russia. Credit: Fausto Biloslavo/TRANSTERRA Media
]]>by Derek Davison
The Pew Research Center has conducted public opinion surveys in Ukraine (April 5-23) and Russia (April 4-20), and the results, released May 8, shed some light on the ongoing conflict between the two countries. They reveal a Ukraine that is more unified than recent events would suggest, and [...]]]>
by Derek Davison
The Pew Research Center has conducted public opinion surveys in Ukraine (April 5-23) and Russia (April 4-20), and the results, released May 8, shed some light on the ongoing conflict between the two countries. They reveal a Ukraine that is more unified than recent events would suggest, and they illuminate the domestic politics driving Russian President Vladimir Putin’s actions. At the same time, the results may offer a way for the interim government in Kiev to defuse some of the separatist tensions that have gripped cities in eastern Ukraine.
The Ukrainian results were broken down by region, with the country divided into “West,” “East,” and “Crimea” per the map below:
The headline result of Pew’s Ukrainian survey is that a large majority of Ukrainians (77%) want the country to remain united. This isn’t terribly surprising, but what is interesting is the large majority in favor of union in the eastern part of the country (70%), where Russian separatism is at its highest. Even among Russian speakers in the eastern part of Ukraine, a solid majority (58%) want to see Ukraine stay whole. In Crimea, which has already voted in favor of secession, it is no surprise that a majority (54%) of those surveyed support allowing parts of Ukraine to secede.
So despite the recent unrest caused by pro-Russian militias in eastern Ukrainian cities like Donetsk, Luhansk, and Slovyansk, only a small minority of Ukrainians in that part of the country want the right to secede — 18% overall, and only 27% of Russian speakers. However, the survey also points to the challenges facing Kiev as it attempts to bring the region back under control. Two-thirds (67%) of Ukrainians in the east say that the government in Kiev has had a “bad influence” on the current situation, compared to only 28% in the west, and 66% in the east say that the Kiev government does not respect “personal freedoms.” Some sign of competent, stable leadership from Kiev could go a long way toward easing the concerns of eastern Ukrainians. Kiev could also take steps to try to ease ethnic tensions, which 73% of Ukrainians (evenly distributed throughout the country) identify as a very or moderately big problem.
One way to ease those tensions could be by protecting regional languages other than Ukrainian; 54% of Ukrainians believe that Russian and Ukrainian should both be official languages (compared with 41% who believe that Ukrainian should be the only official language), with 73% in the east (86% of Russian speakers) supporting that idea but only 30% in the west. A compromise policy that allows regional governments to raise other languages to official status, while making Ukrainian the only official national language, could satisfy separatist concerns without raising significant apprehension in the west, and there are signs that the interim government is pursuing such a compromise. Steps must also be taken to curb the influence of neo-fascist organizations like Right Sector, which 65% of Ukrainians agree is having a negative impact on Ukrainian affairs.
It must be noted, however, that Pew’s survey was conducted before the most recent spate of violence in eastern Ukraine, in particular before last week’s clashes in Odessa in which dozens of pro-Russian sympathizers were killed by pro-Ukrainian protesters. Kiev must take steps to prevent additional violence, which will only further alienate eastern Ukrainians and reduce the chances for reconciliation.
The Ukrainian survey also points out the damage that Russia’s reputation has suffered in Ukraine. When asked about the impact that Russia is having on Ukrainian affairs, 67% say “bad” versus 22% who say “good.” Compare that figure to the results for the European Union (45% good, 33% bad) and the United States (tied at 38%) and it is clear how much Ukrainians as a whole have soured on their Russian neighbors. Even in the supposedly pro-Russian east, 58% of those surveyed (and a plurality of 44% of Russian speakers) agreed that Russia was having a “bad” impact on Ukrainian affairs.
In contrast, Pew’s survey of Russian citizens reveals a populace that is firmly behind President Vladimir Putin’s actions with respect to Ukraine and believes Russian expansion, as in the case of Crimea, is justified. When asked if “there are parts of neighboring countries that really belong to Russia,” 61% of Russians surveyed either completely or mostly agree with that sentiment, compared to only 28% who mostly or completely disagree. The percentage of Russians who are confident in Putin’s ability to handle international affairs is higher (83%) than it has been at any time in the past six years (as far back as the report’s data goes). A plurality of Russians (43%) agree that “Putin’s handling of the situation in Ukraine has led people in other countries to have a more favorable opinion of Russia,” and 55% agree with the statement: “It is a great misfortune that the Soviet Union no longer exists,” though that percentage has been relatively consistent since Pew began asking that question five years ago.
Pew’s findings illustrate that domestic Russian politics are a key driver behind Putin’s actions with respect to Crimea and eastern Ukraine, though the sharp decline in Russia’s prestige in Ukraine may help to explain why Putin seems to have adopted a more conciliatory tone in recent days.
Putin has very little to lose domestically, and much to gain, by adopting a more energetic stance with regards to the internal politics of Russia’s neighbors. At the same time, Pew’s Ukrainian survey strongly suggests that there is an opening for the government in Kiev, perhaps under the influence of its EU and US allies, to take steps — preventing further violence, protecting minority languages, and eliminating the pernicious influence of far-right groups — that will ease the concerns of eastern Ukrainians, who at this point remain largely opposed to any secession effort.
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by Mark N. Katz
How will the crisis in Ukraine turn out? Nobody knows for sure, but a role-playing game that I ran in my undergraduate government and politics of Russia course at George Mason University yesterday offers some insights.
My 79 students (most of whom were present) were divided into thirteen [...]]]>
by Mark N. Katz
How will the crisis in Ukraine turn out? Nobody knows for sure, but a role-playing game that I ran in my undergraduate government and politics of Russia course at George Mason University yesterday offers some insights.
My 79 students (most of whom were present) were divided into thirteen teams of varying size: the United States, Russia, the Ukrainian government, the Ukrainian separatists, Poland, the three Baltic states (Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania), Germany, Britain, France, Belarus, and China. Our starting point was the present situation in Ukraine, recapped as: following Russia’s successful annexation of Crimea, pro-Russian separatists in eastern Ukraine are seizing government buildings in other eastern Ukrainian cities and calling for Russia to intervene on their behalf. The Ukrainian government in Kiev is meanwhile trying to seize back what the separatists have taken, but is encountering difficulties.
After each team stated its initial position on the situation, they were freed to fashion their policies and make deals with other teams.
The Ukrainian government team decided to press ahead with its efforts to take back territory in the eastern part of the country from the separatists as well as to seek commitments from Western governments to help Kiev. The American team in particular talked about increasing sanctions, but the German team wasn’t sure about taking this step. The French team offered to sell weapons, but no Western team was willing to send their own troops to Ukraine.
In the meantime, the Ukrainian separatist team continued to seize buildings (one student had even brought signs with Russian flags to slap on various pieces of furniture in the classroom) while urging the Russian team to intervene on their behalf. The U.S. team attempted to dissuade the Russian team from taking this step. After some delay, though, the Russian team decided to intervene in eastern Ukraine in order to protect Russian citizens there. Tension in the room suddenly increased.
The Ukrainian government team desperately sought Western support. It even seemed to think that this would be forthcoming, but it turned out that there had been an unfortunate misunderstanding on its part. The German team, though, did agree to impose much harsher economic sanctions. The United States and other NATO countries reiterated their commitment to NATO members in Eastern Europe and the Baltic states.
One surprise development was that the Belarusian team asked for U.S. and NATO help in case Russia turned on it. The American team, though, turned down their request since Belarus is not a member of NATO.
The Russian team responded to the increased Western sanctions by turning to the Chinese team. The latter agreed to buy more Russian oil and gas — though at a discount. Otherwise, the Chinese team kept out of the situation.
The Russian team then announced that Moscow had no intention of intervening any further afield than eastern Ukraine. The U.S. team in particular was relieved to hear this. The American and Western European teams indicated that they could live with this situation. The Polish and Baltic teams were disgusted, but could do nothing.
A spokesperson for the Ukrainian government team denounced NATO for its unwillingness to protect it against Russia, and declared that the Ukrainians would continue to fight. With only a little time left in the class period, I ended the game so that we could discuss what had transpired.
There seemed to be general agreement that if indeed Russia intervenes in eastern Ukraine, but declares that it will not go any further, the West will respond with tacit acceptance. NATO would not be willing to get involved in Ukraine. The West, though, would impose stronger economic sanctions on Russia, though some countries would do this quite reluctantly. If the Ukrainian government does decide to fight on, it will do so largely on its own. However, while the West may not do much for Ukraine, it will no longer regard Russia as a normal state, but as a threat. The big unanswered question is whether Russia would in fact honor any pledge not to intervene beyond eastern Ukraine — especially since it is unclear where eastern Ukraine ends and the rest of Ukraine begins.
Was the outcome of this role-playing game realistic? We may well find out soon.
A pro-Russian protestor yells at Ukrainian riot police outside the regional administration building in the eastern Ukrainian city of Donetsk on March 22, 2014. Credit: Zack Baddorf/IPS.
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