Russia's crisis, America's complicity.

• Author: Simes, Dimitri K.

The appointment of the Primakov government in September represents more than a change in personalities or a shift in Russian economic policy. It reflects profound changes in Russian politics, some of which have serious implications for the United States.

Since its first days in office the Clinton administration has made "strategic partnership" with Russia a focal point of its foreign policy. But the administration's interpretation of strategic partnership has gone far beyond what is conventional in state-to-state relations. It has included de facto intervention in Russia's domestic politics on behalf of President Boris Yeltsin and the so-called "radical reformers", particularly former acting Prime Minister Yegor Gaidar and former First Deputy Prime Minister Anatoly Chubais.

Of course, as long as Boris Yeltsin remains Russia's president, he deserves to be treated with appropriate respect and attention. And it was only natural that Gaidar's and Chubais' enthusiasm for the economic prescriptions of the U.S. Treasury Department and the International Monetary Fund should be appreciated in Washington. But the Clinton administration has not merely favored Yeltsin and the radical reformers; it has acted as if their success would, almost by definition, be good not only for Russia but for the United States as well. As a result, President Clinton and his advisers have gone well beyond whitewashing Yeltsin's personal transgressions - including his excessive drinking and his propensity for grandstanding - and have consistently urged him to stay on course with radical reform at almost any cost.

No truly democratic government would ever have dared impose on its citizens measures as harsh as those implemented by Yeltsin. Despite this, and after the predictable backlash, the administration endorsed Yeltsin's unconstitutional dissolution of the Congress of People's Deputies in 1993, his shelling of the Russian White House (where the parliament was located), and his virtual imposition of a new constitution granting the Russian president almost dictatorial powers. The administration clearly gave priority to its notion of economic reform over democracy, and to Yeltsin's personal fortunes over respect for Russia's constitution - and over the obvious U.S. interest in the establishment of political checks and balances that would discourage a future Russian autocracy from returning to an aggressive foreign policy.

Later, in 1996, the administration deployed IMF loans in such a way as to help Yeltsin win re-election, and then portrayed his victory as a triumph of democracy. This proclamation came despite the fact that Yeltsin's campaign team rendered legal spending limits meaningless through massive violations; used the federal treasury as a campaign war chest; exploited its de facto control over the media to undermine not only the Communists but all of Yeltsin's rivals (even Grigory Yavlinsky, the leader of the impeccably pro-reform Yabloko party); pressed local officials to deliver the vote to Yeltsin, even through fraud; and concealed his heart attack on the eve of the election from Russia's voters.

As a result of its unstinting support of Boris Yeltsin, the administration developed an enormous stake in his success and the success of his radical reformer proteges. The appointment of the Primakov government thus came as a double blow: it came about at the initiative of opposition politicians in the Duma; and, for the first time since the collapse of the USSR, the Russian government did not include any of the administration's favorites.

Not On the Shoulders of Titans

Yevgeny Primakov was appointed prime minister after the humiliating failures of his two predecessors, Sergey Kiriyenko and Victor Chernomyrdin. Kiriyenko, dismissed in August, had announced Russia's de facto devaluation of the ruble, its ninety-day moratorium on the repayment of debts to foreign creditors (the equivalent of a default), and its unilateral restructuring of short-term state bonds (known as GKOs). He replaced Chernomyrdin, who was fired in March to allow for "new blood."

Despite Yeltsin's claim, however, Chernomyrdin's original dismissal had little to do with a sense that the Russian government needed new energy and momentum. While there certainly was such a need, politics rather than policies played the decisive role. By now it is clear that Yeltsin and his entourage had become resentful of Chernomyrdin, who seemed increasingly to be a real second-in-command with an independent power base and ever more obvious presidential aspirations. But the Russian prime minister fatally miscalculated Yeltsin's willingness to tolerate his growing prominence. Whoever became too visible under the aging and insecure president was bound to activate his self-protective instincts. With little or no warning, Chernomyrdin was dismissed in March less than one month after his return from high-profile meetings with Vice President Al Gore in Washington.

In retrospect, Yeltsin's decision to fire his prime minister of five years appears to have been largely spontaneous. This is demonstrated by the Russian president's initial announcement that he himself would temporarily assume the duties of prime minister, followed only hours later by the appointment of the relatively unknown thirty-five year-old energy minister, Sergey Kiriyenko, as acting prime minister. Although there have been numerous attempts at after-the-fact rationalization of Kiriyenko's appointment - highlighting his youth, competence, commitment to reform, and pragmatic approach to politics - the mechanics of his arrival make clear that its principal purpose was to unseat the powerful Chernomyrdin. Kiriyenko, a former Komsomol leader and then business executive in Nizhniy Novgorod brought to Moscow by Boris Nemtsov in 1997, had served only a few months as a minister and was a virtual unknown to Yeltsin.

Kiriyenko's eventual confirmation by the State Duma was predictable. After two strong but nevertheless pro forma rejections, the deputies overwhelmingly approved Kiriyenko's candidacy in the face of threats to force new elections with revised rules unfavorable to the opposition. Transparent suggestions by the president himself that he would "take care of the deputies' needs" if only they would cooperate also helped.

Ultimately, though, the Russian constitution, narrowly approved in a questionable referendum held after Yeltsin's 1993 assault on the Supreme Soviet, was the decisive factor. It allowed Kiriyenko to assume office in an acting capacity prior to his confirmation, and also ensured that if the parliament rejected Kiriyenko in a third vote, the Duma would face dissolution. The new Duma, too, would still have to vote on Kiriyenko, if not a less palatable presidential appointee. Although the opposition would perhaps have won additional parliamentary seats if it had forced new elections, the Duma has so little power that the opposition's strength is of little relevance if Yeltsin feels confident enough to ignore the legislature. Yeltsin had also put opposition leaders on notice that he might abolish by decree the current system of proportional representation in any new parliamentary elections. This would significantly damage the smaller parties, particularly Yabloko, which has a substantial nationwide electoral base but could win few races in single-mandate districts outside Moscow, St. Petersburg, and a few other major cities. Because the Duma would be unlikely to vote for such a change, Yeltsin could probably not have introduced it constitutionally - but with his record of acting outside the constitution, his threat had enough credibility to sober the opposition into submission.

Kiriyenko won almost instant endorsements from the Clinton administration and the IMF. Their quick support for the new prime minister could hardly have been based on his reformist record - he had served as a cabinet minister only since the previous November, when he replaced his political mentor, Boris Nemtsov, as energy minister. Nor was Washington's satisfaction based on any displeasure with Chernomyrdin, with whom the administration had worked amicably for years. Instead, the fulsome praise for the new Russian government seemed to reflect the Clinton administration's predisposition to find something positive in almost any move taken by Yeltsin on one hand and, on the other, its trust in assurances from Nemtsov and former First Deputy Prime Minister Chubais, whom Yeltsin had just appointed to head Russia's electricity monopoly, United Energy Systems of Russia. The fact that another radical reformer - Yegor Gaidar - was a key unofficial adviser to the Kiriyenko team also reassured the administration and its proxy international financial institutions.

The near euphoria in Washington was, however, totally divorced from realities in Russia. Once Kiriyenko was...