The death last week of Boris Yeltsin called to mind an important
truth -- policy never gets made in a vacuum. The US seriously
mishandled its relationship with Russia in the years after
the fall of the Berlin Wall, in large measure because of its
own internal tax-cut politics. With the benefit of hindsight,
three major inflection points stand out.
The first had to do with the
failure to extend any sort of helping hand to the Soviet Union
during the period of its breakup. Mikhail Gorbachev appealed
for aid, privately, then publicly, but was rebuffed. "[W]e
need some oxygen," he told Secretary of State James Baker
when they met at one point. "We are not asking for a gift.
We are asking for a loan we are asking for specifically targeted
loans for specific purposes," perhaps $15 billion or $20 billion
"to tide us over." Out of the question, Baker told him. Before
long, Gorbachev was outmaneuvered by Boris Yeltsin, who, in
effect, declared Russia bankrupt and distributed a large portion
of the nation's assets to a handful of insiders.
Had some measure of aid been
available, Brent Scowcroft later wrote (he was national security
adviser to George H.W. Bush), Gorbachev might have succeeded
in shunting the painful process of reform on to some different
path. A serious program of assistance to Russia in making
the transition to a market economy might not have worked,
but it is significant that the Bush administration didn't
feel it could try.
The second mis-step had to do
with the rapid expansion of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization
during the 1990s. When Gorbachev met Bush in Malta in December
1989, a few weeks after the fall of the Berlin Wall, he handed
the American president a map depicting US bases and fleets
around the world, in order to argue that while the Soviet
Union had adopted a strictly defensive posture, the US as
yet had not stood down.
It turned out that Russia hadn't
seen anything yet. Fifteen years later, NATO has admitted
to its ranks Hungary, Poland, the Czech Republic, Bulgaria,
Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Romania, Slovakia and Slovenia.
Governments friendly to the United States have been supported
in Ukraine and Georgia. American bases have been established
in Central Asia to wage war in Afghanistan. And the US has
pressed a "coalition of the willing" -- including Polish troops
-- into its occupation of Iraq.
These were the circumstances
behind Vladimir Putin's angry speech in February to the Munich
Conference on Security Policy, the one in which he complained
of "an almost uncontained hyper-use of force -- military force
-- in international relations, force that is plunging the world
into an abyss of permanent conflicts." Not long thereafter
New York Times columnist Thomas Friedman wrote, "We helped create
a mood in Russia hospitable to a conservative cold warrior
like Mr. Putin by forcing NATO on a liberal democrat like
Mr. Yeltsin."
Finally, there was the advisory
role that Americans played in helping the Russians pursue
their internal reforms during the 1990s. Specifically, there
was Harvard University's tainted Russia Project, the Clinton
administration's flagship program to help the Russians build
a market economy. When the team leader, a young Harvard professor
who had emigrated from Russia at 16, was discovered to be
enriching himself, the US Agency for International Development
fired him; the Russians then shut down the entire. Harvard
eventually was ordered to pay back most of the sum it had
collected.
By then, however, the damage
had been done. The old-line Russian intelligentsia was especially
unamused. As political commentator William Pfaff wrote the
other day in The International Herald Tribune, "The naïve and usually self-serving recommendations
by the western governments, institutions and consultants heavily
contributed to the chaos produced in the 1990s by the collapse
of Soviet-era institutions, which is the principal reason
for the opinions expressed in Russia today."
It didn't have to be this way. The US decisively succeeded
in its Cold War competition with the Soviet Union and its
satellites. It could have well-afforded to be magnanimous
in victory, at least in some degree. Instead, Washington
found itself hobbled by massive deficits and tempted by unexpected
opportunities. So it backed a weak and ineffective Russian
leader.
No wonder, then, that Yeltsin's obituaries stressed the extent
to which ordinary Russians view of their first elected president
as a man that brought their country to the brink of chaos.
He didn't do it all himself, though. He had help, in the form
of short-sighted US policies almost guaranteed to return the
country's leadership to more authoritarian hands.