In Search of Causes: the Russian ‘majorat’, the non-re-establishment of the state and the collapse of Russian democracy

To put it somewhat simply, there are two opposing narratives about Russia in the 1990s, each contradicting the official viewpoint in different ways. The liberal narrative holds that the transformation in Russia during the 1990s, despite numerous difficulties, was generally a movement in the right direction for the country. However, according to this view, Putin came to power as a result of the intrigues of the oligarchs and Yeltsin’s 'family', ruining everything and derailing the achievements of the decade (→ Anders Åslund: Russia’s Crony Capitalism). Opposing this is the leftist narrative, which argues that the market reforms of the 1990s destroyed all of the country’s previous accomplishments, leading to its deep decline, a surge in inequality, and rampant corruption. The leftist narrative sees the rise of a 'neoliberal' autocracy as a logical outcome of these processes (this perspective is developed in the works of Boris Kagarlitsky → Boris Kagarlitsky: Russia Under Yeltsin And Putin: Neo-Liberal Autocracy).

Without engaging in debate with proponents of either approach, it is worth noting that both tend to neglect analysing Russia’s case from a comparative perspective. However, Russia was not the only post-communist country to embark on a path of comprehensive transformation in the 1990s and encounter numerous problems along the way. A deep and prolonged economic downturn was typical for many post-Soviet Eurasian countries. Oligarchs played a significant role in Ukrainian politics as well. And the level of corruption in Moldova was at least as high as in Russia.

Nonetheless, the paths of post-Soviet states diverged significantly after the 1990s. The trajectories of most of them turned out to be quite different from Russia’s. Therefore, instead of searching for real or imagined culprits for today’s situation in the 1990s, it is worth asking two questions: what exactly was specific about the transformation processes in Russia at the time compared to its neighbours? And why and how did these processes affect the country’s subsequent political development?

The collapse of the USSR and the Russian ‘majorat’

In 1991, German sociologist Claus Offe outlined the challenges faced by post-communist countries as a simultaneous 'triple transition': 1) from the Soviet empire to new nation-states, 2) from a planned economy to a market one, and 3) from one-party authoritarianism to pluralistic democracy. Offe believed that the simultaneity of these large-scale transformations was unprecedented in European and world history. In practice, various post-Soviet countries chose the priority and sequence of addressing these tasks under the strong influence of external (exogenous) factors, the main one being the collapse of the Soviet Union.

Much has already been written about the causes and mechanisms of the USSR’s collapse, as well as the role of elites and national movements in the union republics at that time (→ Yegor Gaidar: The Collapse of an Empire; Vladislav Zubok: Collapse: The Fall of the Soviet Union). However, the dissolution of the USSR was largely influenced by the steps taken by the new leadership of the RSFSR in 1991. These steps were, in many ways, strategic: beyond the conflict between Gorbachev and Yeltsin, they were dictated by the logic of 'shedding ballast'. Amid an acute economic crisis, the Russian leadership was not interested in taking on any obligations toward the other former Soviet republics. The Russian leadership viewed the Central Asian republics as underdeveloped regions, hopeless recipients of budget transfers, while the Caucasus – with its series of armed conflicts in Nagorno-Karabakh, Abkhazia, and South Ossetia – was seen as a security challenge. The Russian elites had neither the resources nor the desire to deal with these problems. From Yeltsin’s and his circle’s perspective, the desire to rid themselves of the 'toxic assets' inherited from the disintegrating USSR seemed entirely logical.

Thus, during the signing of the Belovezha Accords (essentially a deal between the leaders of the RSFSR and Ukraine), the seven remaining union republics of the USSR were 'presented with the fait accompli' of its dissolution. The division of the USSR’s assets resembled primogeniture: Russia, like the eldest son in a family, inherited all the assets and debts of the USSR. The other republics, like younger adult children, were forced to create their own households. The eldest son (Russia) provided assistance to them only at his discretion.

This division of the former USSR’s assets and debts had significant foreign and domestic political consequences for the post-Soviet states. From a foreign policy perspective, they became dependent on Russia (primarily economically) and were viewed both in Russia and abroad as being within Russia’s 'sphere of influence' (with the exception of the Baltic states). This situation persisted at least until the wave of 'colour revolutions' in the 2000s. Domestically, their newfound independence meant that the primary focus for these countries was building their own statehood. Economic and political reforms became secondary to this process. While their statehood wasn’t built entirely from scratch, it wasn’t simply a continuation of the former Soviet republics’ statehood either.

Political and economic reforms could not become unconditional priorities for the elites of these countries. The actions of the local elites were instead focused on asserting themselves as legitimate leaders of their states, parallel to the process of establishing these states with all the associated attributes (including a national language, borders, security apparatus, courts, etc.). The variations in political regimes and economic processes in these countries were quite significant, but everywhere, the ruling elites moved away from the Soviet 'legacy' and could not view the USSR as their normative ideal.

In contrast, Russia’s task of building post-Soviet statehood was essentially solved from the outset. Russia did not have to build new institutions 'from scratch' (even from fragments of the old ones, as the union republics did). It was enough to take over the institutions of the collapsing USSR – from the State Bank to the armed forces – and adapt them to new tasks. This institutional configuration can be described as 'USSR minus'. The country, as the successor to the Soviet Union, now territorially limited to the borders of the RSFSR as of 1991, initially inherited the attributes of full statehood, including its own currency (the complete separation of the post-Soviet countries’ currency systems occurred only in 1993), a veto in the UN Security Council, and, of course, nuclear weapons.

Russia’s reliance on the institutional and organisational 'Soviet legacy' was exacerbated by the retention of Soviet personnel. The moratorium on elections introduced in the fall of 1991 created a barrier to the renewal of Russian elites and entrenched a high level of continuity among them.

The distinctive features of Russia’s new statehood compared to other post-Soviet republics affected not only the formation of normative ideals, which later, in the 2000s, became oriented toward the model of a 'good Soviet Union'. Acquiring the 'Soviet legacy' freed the hands of the new Russian elites, who, unlike their neighbours, did not have to build a new state. This led to a qualitatively different set of priorities – namely, economic reforms. At the time of the USSR’s collapse, the lack of necessity to build a new state from scratch seemed like a comparative advantage for Russia. In practice, however, it became one of the sources of subsequent problems.

Was a democratic alternative possible?

Since Russia essentially did not have to build a new statehood, the strategy chosen by the Russian elites for transformation was a combination of political and economic reforms.

It would seem that for the Russian politicians who came to power after the collapse of the CPSU under the banners of democratisation, a logical path for reforms could have been as follows: In the fall of 1991, the Russian parliament adopts a new constitution, which establishes a set of new democratic political institutions for the new Russia (without remnants of the Soviet legacy). Then, 'foundational elections' are held at all levels of government according to new rules. As a result, a new government, relying on the trust of the citizens, quickly launches the necessary market reforms in the economy. This was the logic behind post-communist transformations in some Eastern European countries. However, in Russia, such a scenario was neither considered by the political elites as desirable nor as a possible alternative.

Paradoxically, the reason for this was the outcome of the political conflict in August 1991. At that time, the political forces associated with the old regime not only suffered defeat but were removed from the political scene altogether. At the same time, the diverse coalition around Yeltsin, which had campaigned under democratisation slogans, suddenly found itself victorious in the conflict between the union and republican elites under the principle of 'winner takes all'. In other post-Soviet countries, power either remained completely in the hands of the former republican elites, representatives of the Soviet nomenklatura (as in Kazakhstan), or was divided among several factions, often forming tactical coalitions with national movements. In Lucan Way’s terms, this was 'pluralism by default', characteristic of Ukraine and Moldova (→ Lucan Way: Pluralism by Default).

Thus, the incentives for Russia’s new leaders were to secure their political dominance. Free elections could only hinder this goal – leading to defeat and loss of power. Creating new formal and informal political coalitions with representatives of the old regime also would not have helped retain power. Moreover, the very logic of political compromise was taboo in the eyes of Yeltsin and his circle: first, due to Gorbachev’s unfortunate experience, where numerous compromises prevented him from maintaining power during perestroika; and second, because by the fall of 1991, the Russian leaders simply had no need for compromises. Therefore, the victors of August 1991 sought to block any political reforms that could lead to further democratisation in Russia. For these reasons, instead of compromises and coalition-building, political polarisation became the key tool of domestic policy.

As a result, in September-October 1991, the Russian leadership prioritised market reforms over political reforms. Against the backdrop of the country’s genuinely severe economic situation, political reforms seemed untimely. History does not allow for counterfactuals, and we will never know whether a democratic alternative was realistic in Russia at that time. One of the serious risks of its implementation could have been the exacerbation of Russia’s territorial disintegration.

By prioritising radical market reforms, the Russian leaders significantly narrowed the room for political manoeuvre. Yeltsin declared himself the head of the government and achieved the 'freezing' of Russia’s previous political institutions. He had neither a 'Plan B' (in case the reforms did not bring quick or even gradual success) nor any plan for political reforms at all.

Reform strategies: politics vs policy

This approach led to numerous problems. The financial stabilisation plan failed shortly after market reforms began in Russia. Its implementation was hindered by factors such as the continued existence of a unified currency in post-Soviet countries until 1993 and the conflict between the government and the Central Bank. A closer examination of the economic policies of the Russian government in the 1990s (→ Andrei Shleifer, Daniel Treisman: Without a Map) reveals that it involved numerous compromises with various sectoral and regional interest groups, who were willing to exchange political loyalty for subsidies, transfers, control over assets during privatisation, and so on.

In part, these compromises helped the Russian authorities limit regional separatism and keep certain enterprises afloat. In this sense, the 'priority' of market reforms in 1990s Russia was not all that different from Ukraine's economic policy, which, for Ukrainian elites, was secondary to the task of building a new state. The result for both Russia and Ukraine was characteristic: hyperinflation, privatisation of enterprises in favour of 'red directors', and the 'state capture' by oligarchs. The difference is that in Russia, a period of rapid economic recovery began after the completion of the market reforms of the 1990s, and it was against the backdrop of this growth that the authoritarian turn of the 2000s took place. In contrast, Ukraine faced a much longer economic recovery but managed to preserve its democratic potential.

In Ukraine, the government’s course in the 190s was not led by market liberals, but by nomenklatura figures and their technocrats, from Pynzenyk to Yushchenko. Moreover, Ukrainian politicians were often forced to engage in political compromises, which not only led to changes in the composition of the government – largely autonomous from the president (Ukraine saw nine cabinets of ministers in the 1990s) – but also gave rise to a new Ukrainian democracy. In contrast, in Russia, compromises affecting policy had only an indirect relationship to the realm of politics, which was under Yeltsin's control. Any attempts by other players to participate in politics contrary to the will of the president were suppressed in one way or another. Yeltsin succinctly expressed his approach: ‘Someone in the country has to be in charge… that’s all'.

This principle was enshrined in the 1993 Russian Constitution. It granted the head of state very broad and vaguely defined powers. Essentially, all checks and balances were reduced to the prohibition against holding the presidential office for more than two consecutive terms. Later, Yeltsin issued a decree transferring control of the security ministries from the government to the president. As a result, the constitution, adopted after the conflict between Yeltsin and the parliament, through a plebiscite in December 1993, despite its extensive liberal rhetoric, contained significant authoritarian potential.

Political polarisation forced both the elites and citizens of Russia into a choice between maintaining a clearly unattractive status quo and rejecting it in favour of an even more unappealing alternative (such as the parliament's victory over the president in the fall of 1993 or Zyuganov’s victory over Yeltsin in 1996). This made polarisation an effective tool for retaining power in the hands of Yeltsin and his allies.

In essence, this tactic, successfully used in 1993 and 1996, allowed the Kremlin to marginalise moderate political players who, in a coalition-based political system, would have had a chance to join the government as independent political forces. For example, the Civic Union in 1992-1993 or Yabloko after 1993.

In contrast, in Ukraine, due to 'pluralism by default', political polarisation was not in demand. This meant the path to monopolising power was blocked. As a result, in 1993, Kravchuk had to abandon the idea of holding a plebiscite with the question 'Either me or the parliament' (Yeltsin held such a plebiscite in April 1993). And in 1996, Kuchma was forced to reach an agreement with the parliament on the adoption of a new constitution, where the parliament's powers were broader than in Russia. The subsequent Ukrainian revolutions of 2004 and 2014 were a continuation of these processes, which had started back in the 1990s.

Meanwhile, for Russia, the real turning point during the 1996 elections was not so much the imagined alternative between Yeltsin and Zyuganov, but rather the choice between completely cancelling the presidential elections due to the threat of Yeltsin's defeat (which some in the president's team advocated) or holding them under clearly unequal conditions, which essentially excluded the possibility of Yeltsin losing. Ultimately, in March 1996, Yeltsin's circle adopted the second option. In reality, the choice at that moment was between Russia abandoning electoral democracy as early as the 1990s or postponing that abandonment until the 2000s.

Outcomes of the 1990s: lost illusions

Despite the fact that Russia abandoned democratisation after 1991, following the path of market reforms, electoral democracy's institutions in the country were in the process of developing during the 1990s. The 1995 parliamentary elections met many criteria for free and fair voting (unlike the 1993 elections, where some potential participants were excluded). Numerous political parties were being formed, and several regional political regimes, based on competitive elections, were emerging.

However, political freedoms in Russia during this period were developing not so much because of a conscious choice by the Russian elites – who made decisions at the crossroads of 1991, 1993, and 1996 – but in spite of it. First, there was considerable inertia from the democratisation processes that had developed during perestroika, under the banners of which Russian leaders came to power in 1991. These same politicians were not in a position to immediately reverse course. Second, the processes of the 1990s were accompanied by a deep decline in the administrative capacity of the Russian state, along with the low popularity of the leadership and its political course.

Under such conditions, it was unrealistic for the authorities to immediately dismantle democratic institutions. Furthermore, a significant portion of the Russian elites was not interested in such a development. A clear illustration of this is the conflict within Yeltsin's circle in March 1996 between opponents of the elections and supporters of unfair elections. Therefore, Russian democracy continued to exist for a time mainly because no one could severely restrict it. But many of the foundations for future restrictions – both political and institutional – were laid in the 1990s.

The 1998 financial crisis, followed by default and the devaluation of the ruble, dealt a severe blow to the political and economic strategy the Russian authorities had pursued since 1991. Amidst the sharply intensified struggle for power, the priority shifted away from political or economic reforms and toward the political (if not physical) survival of Yeltsin and his closest allies. Thus began the ‘war for Yeltsin's legacy’.

Although democratic institutions, particularly the institution of elections, played a key role in this struggle, the conflict between Yeltsin's 'family' and the diverse coalition of elite groups that had formed around Primakov and Luzhkov unfolded as a zero-sum game, with the single main prize being the position of Yeltsin's successor as head of state. To a certain extent, the elite conflict during the 1999 Duma elections (‘Unity’ vs. 'Fatherland – All Russia') was the logical conclusion of a series of similar confrontations from 1991, 1993, and 1996.

In Ukraine, under conditions of ‘pluralism by default’, the outcome of an elite conflict as a zero-sum game seemed inherently unthinkable. Meanwhile, Moldova in 1999 decided to abandon holding general presidential elections altogether to reduce the risks of a zero-sum game for the country's political elites.

In Russia, however, no barriers were raised against this new (and, to date, the last) zero-sum game. On the contrary, the task of democratising the country, sidelined by Russian elites in the early 1990s, was fully discarded by the end of the decade, once the elite conflict had been resolved. Instead, market reforms regained elevated priority in the early 2000s.

Thus, at the time of the USSR's collapse, Russia found itself in relatively less challenging circumstances for addressing post-communist transformation compared to other post-Soviet countries. However, it tackled these issues selectively and partially. Political reforms were deliberately sacrificed in favour of economic transformations. Like in other post-Soviet states, these were accompanied by a deep and prolonged decline, which was only replaced by economic growth in the 2000s.

It was this growth that triggered the subsequent deliberate efforts to establish authoritarian militarism in Russia. However, the foundation for this was laid back in the 1990s. The project of building a new Russian authoritarianism turned out to be a long-term endeavour due to the state's weakness, economic problems, and elite fragmentation. Nonetheless, the 'corrections' undertaken by the Kremlin in the 2000s and especially in the 2010s helped bring this project to its logical conclusion.