PARIS, Dec. 26 (UPI) -- Vladimir Putin has prevented Russia's implosion using methods he learned in the KGB. His game plan is logical. He knows Russia can only survive post-communism by becoming a centralized oligarchy -- or risk splitting further. Putin is emulating a long Soviet tradition: state-sanctioned tyranny in its most efficient form.
After 1991, many former apparatchiks divided the best parts of the post-Soviet economy amongst themselves. There was nothing illegal about it. Laws did not exist to prevent such maneuvers. President Boris Yeltsin knew he too needed centralized authority to survive. Without the support of the super-rich, Yeltsin might have well lost the 1996 elections to the communists.
The communists were still strong and occupying key bureaucratic positions. They could count on substantial support from the population. Yeltsin did the smart thing. He lined up a group people behind him, offered them to become powerful oligarchs, including his corrupt would-be-mega-wealthy daughter, and created stability for his government.
Some of Yeltsin's oligarchs have benevolent traits. Boris Beresovsky is controversial -- very controversial -- but I like him. He has given me no reason not to trust him. Beresovsky was a key player in the Yeltsin era. He schmoozed with U.S. President Bill Clinton, British Prime Minister John Major and South African President F.W. de Klerk. He became post-Soviet Russia's richest man. We have "chatted" in the four-corners of the planet.
Beresovsky owned banks, newspapers, television stations, at one point he owned parts of Gazprom and Aeroflot. He has become a strong supporter of Israeli causes, and democratic societies. Putin made him -- a la Khodorkovsky -- persona non grata. Beresovsky smelled the bacon early and went into self-imposed exile, in the U.K., where he has political asylum.
Putin can send his spin doctor and Deputy Chief of Staff Vladislav Surkov, who was a protégé of Khodorkovsky, into the hype-cycle all he wants. He will not get away from the smell of corruption, accusations of state-supported assassination and general aura of mafia-style behavior. Even his good friend Gerhard Schroeder's new book will not diminish the stench.
I have been known to advocate a benevolent dictatorship for post Soviet-Russia. Yeltsin might have been the right person if he had not spent most of his life on the wagon. Yeltsin sensed early that he could become a man of the people. He showed remarkable instincts in pulling the rug out from under Gorbachev.
My good friend Boris Pankin, the Soviet Union's last foreign minister and a member of the board of Global Panel, used to bemoan Yeltsin's failed discipline, even while being enraged at Yeltsin's coup of Gorbachev. Mostly, Yeltsin was a good if permanently imbibed man. That is why he lost, and others gained, control.
Putin shows none of these Soviet traits. He drinks in moderation, if at all. He is fit -- judo fit. He shows iron self discipline. He is smart. He has a quick mind. He speaks fluent German. He even shows signs of good will. But he lets nothing get in the way of keeping control. No Soviet leader harnessed personal power the way Putin has. If Putin does not know about what his security services are doing, then it is because he does not want to know.
The main problem with post-Soviet Russia is that it is a free-for-all. Its roots are rather better found in the wild west of 1850s America than in the parliamentary democracies of Europe. Putin reorganized the political party structure to create a one-party system. He has marginalized his political opponents. He pushed through laws in Parliament making him able to appoint regional governors. He might find spiritual kinship in Wyatt Earp -- someone I actually respect.
During the beginning hours of democracy in Czechoslovakia 16 years ago, one experience in Pardubice stands out. In this city of 100,000, some 100 kilometers from Prague, was a large garrison of Soviet troops. They had yet to be called home. I had taken the wrong bus and found myself with young soldiers headed for the garrison. I got off the bus, and looked around. I was being stared at. Finally, one of the young chaps ventured forward and in heavy Russian said, "Amerikan?" "Da," I said. A cheer roared out.
And so began a night of copious drinking with young Soviet troops and the first American they had met in living color. What I remember most about the evening is how much we laughed. We told stories. They showed me pictures of mothers, wives and children. We even shed some tears. I was profoundly moved by the occasion. As the child of the Cold War, as the son of a military family, I felt the future was in good hands.
Today things Russian seem gloomier. Her soldiers are in Chechnya; many of them do not want to serve. Contract killings are regular; several people I know have been despicably murdered.
Much of the press and energy sector have been renationalized. NGO's must register or fold. Russia continues to slide down Transparency International's ranking of open nations.
It has been 20 years since Perestroika and Glasnost. The great hope brought seems today but a whisper.
Putin could change course, but he won't.
I hope his successor will -- if it's not too late.
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(UPI columnist Marc S. Ellenbogen is chairman of the Global Panel Foundation and President of the Prague Society. A venture capitalist with seats in Berlin and Prague, he is a member of the National Advisory Board of the U.S. Democratic Party. He may be reached at [email protected].)
