Key Players and Regional Dynamics in Eurasia: The Return of the 'Great Game'

Key Players and Regional Dynamics in Eurasia

Also by Maria Raquel Freire CONFLICT AND SECURITY IN THE FORMER SOVIET UNION: The Role of the OSCE

Also by Roger E. Kanet THE COLD WAR AS COOPERATION: Superpower Cooperation in Regional Conflict Management (edited with Edward A. Kolodziej) THE FOREIGN POLICY OF THE RUSSIAN FEDERATION (edited with Alexander V. Kozhemiakin) THE LIMITS OF SOVIET POWER IN THE DEVELOPING WORLD: Thermidor in the Revolutionary Struggle (edited with Edward A. Kolodziej) POST-COMMUNIST STATES IN THE WORLD COMMUNITY: Selected Papers from the Fifth World Congress of Central and East European Studies, Warsaw 1995 (edited with William E. Ferry) RUSSIA, RE-EMERGING GREAT POWER (editor) RUSSIAN FOREIGN POLICY IN THE 21ST CENTURY

Key Players and Regional Dynamics in Eurasia The Return of the ‘Great Game’ Edited by

Maria Raquel Freire Assistant Professor, Department of International Relations, University of Coimbra, Portugal and

Roger E. Kanet Professor, Department of International Studies, University of Miami, US

Editorial matter, selection, introduction and conclusion © Maria Raquel Freire and Roger E. Kanet 2010 All remaining chapters © respective authors 2010 All rights reserved. No reproduction, copy or transmission of this publication may be made without written permission. No portion of this publication may be reproduced, copied or transmitted save with written permission or in accordance with the provisions of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, or under the terms of any licence permitting limited copying issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency, Saffron House, 6–10 Kirby Street, London EC1N 8TS. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages. The authors have asserted their rights to be identified as the authors of this work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. First published 2010 by PALGRAVE MACMILLAN Palgrave Macmillan in the UK is an imprint of Macmillan Publishers Limited, registered in England, company number 785998, of Houndmills, Basingstoke, Hampshire RG21 6XS. Palgrave Macmillan in the US is a division of St Martin’s Press LLC, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010. Palgrave Macmillan is the global academic imprint of the above companies and has companies and representatives throughout the world. Palgrave® and Macmillan® are registered trademarks in the United States, the United Kingdom, Europe and other countries. ISBN 978–0–230–27378–8

hardback

This book is printed on paper suitable for recycling and made from fully managed and sustained forest sources. Logging, pulping and manufacturing processes are expected to conform to the environmental regulations of the country of origin. A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Key players and regional dynamics in Eurasia : the return of the ‘great game’ / edited by Maria Raquel Freire and Roger E. Kanet. p. cm. ISBN 978–0–230–27378–8 (hardback) 1. Eurasia—Politics and government—21st century. 2. Geopolitics— Eurasia. I. Freire, Maria Raquel, 1973– II. Kanet, Roger E., 1936– DK293.K44 2010 950.4'3—dc22 2010027505 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 19 18 17 16 15 14 13 12 11 10 Printed and bound in Great Britain by CPI Antony Rowe, Chippenham and Eastbourne

Contents Map and Table

vii

Notes on Contributors

viii

Preface

xiv

Introduction Russia in Eurasia: External Players and Regional Dynamics Maria Raquel Freire and Roger E. Kanet Part I The Russian Federation and the Greater Caspian Basin 1 Russia and the CIS Region: The Russian Regional Security Complex Bertil Nygren 2 International Rivalries in Eurasia Stephen Blank

1 11 13 29

3 Eurasia at the Heart of Russian Politics: Dynamics of (In)Dependence in a Complex Setting Maria Raquel Freire Part II External Powers, Russia and Eurasia 4 Russia and the Greater Caspian Basin: Withstanding the US Challenge Roger E. Kanet 5 Competing for Eurasia: Russian and European Union Perspectives Sandra Fernandes and Licínia Simão

55 79 81

103

6 Russia and China in Eurasia: The Wary Partnership John Berryman

126

7 India and Central Asia Amit Das Gupta

146

8 Eurasia between Russia, Turkey, and Iran Mohiaddin Mesbahi

164

Part III Intergovernmental Organisations and Non-State Actors, Russia and Eurasia 9 Senseless Dreams and Small Steps: The CIS and CSTO between Integration and Cooperation Richard Sakwa v

193 195

vi

Contents

10 The Atlantic Alliance in Eurasia: A Different Player? Alberto Priego

215

11 Intergovernmental Organisations and Non-State Actors, Russia and Eurasia: The OSCE P. Terrence Hopmann

238

12 Strategic Resources, Strategic Players: The Role of National versus International Oil Companies in Post-Soviet Eurasia Heidi Kjærnet

271

Conclusion Maria Raquel Freire and Roger E. Kanet

290

Index

296

Map and Table Map 4.1

Gas pipelines in Europe

92

Source: Nies (2008), p. 5. Reprinted with the permission of Institut français des relations internationales.

Table 4.1 Major recipients of Russian natural gas exports, 2006–7

vii

92

Notes on Contributors John Berryman teaches International Relations at Birkbeck College, University of London and is Associate Professor in International Studies at the American Institute for Foreign Study, London. He was previously Head of the Division of European and International Studies and a member of the Russian and East European Research Centre at the University of Wolverhampton. His recent publications include ‘Russia, NATO Enlargement and the New “Lands in Between”’, in Roger E. Kanet (ed.), A Resurgent Russia and the West: The European Union, NATO and Beyond (2009); ‘Russia and China in the New Central Asia: The Security Agenda’, in Roger E. Kanet (ed.), Russia: Re-Emerging Great Power (2007), and ‘Putin’s International Security Priorities’, in Roger E. Kanet (ed.), The New Security Environment: The Impact on Russia, Central and Eastern Europe (2005). He is a member of the International Institute for Strategic Studies and the Royal Institute of International Affairs. Stephen Blank has served as the expert on the Soviet bloc and the postSoviet world at the Strategic Studies Institute of the US Army War College since 1989. Prior to that he was Associate Professor of Soviet Studies at the Center for Aerospace Doctrine, Research, and Education, Maxwell Air Force Base and taught at the University of Texas, San Antonio, and at the University of California, Riverside. He is the editor of Imperial Decline: Russia’s Changing Position in Asia, co-editor of Soviet Military and the Future and author of The Sorcerer as Apprentice: Stalin’s Commissariat of Nationalities, 1917–1924. He has also written many articles and conference papers on Russian, Commonwealth of Independent States, and Eastern European security issues. Dr Blank’s current research deals with proliferation and the revolution in military affairs, and energy and security in Eurasia. His most recent books are Towards a New Russia Policy (2008); U.S. Interests in Central Asia and the Challenges to Them (2007); Russo-Chinese Energy Relations: Politics in Command (2006) and Natural Allies?: Regional Security in Asia and Prospects for Indo-American Strategic Cooperation (2005). He holds a BA in History from the University of Pennsylvania, and an MA and Ph.D. in History from the University of Chicago. Amit Das Gupta is scientific collaborator in the Institute for Contemporary History of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Germany. His research concentrates on the foreign, security, and development policy of Germany and on South Asia since the independence of India and Pakistan in 1947. His publications include Handel, Hilfe, Hallstein-Doctrine: Die bundesdeutsche viii

Notes on Contributors ix

Südasienpolitik unter Adenauer und Erhard 1949 bis 1966 (Trade, Aid, Hallstein Doctrine: The South Asia Policy of the Federal Republic of Germany under Adenauer and Erhard, 1949 to 1966), in the series, ‘Historische Studien’ (2004) and numerous articles that have appeared in Südasien, Magazine of the Südasienbuero, Internationale Spectator, and elsewhere. He previously held the position of senior researcher at the Germany Institute of the University of Amsterdam. Sandra Fernandes has been Lecturer in international relations at the University of Minho (Portugal) since 2001. She was awarded the Jacques Delors Prize 2005 for her research on the relations between the European Union and Russia, in particular their political and security dimensions. Since October 2005, she has been working for her Ph.D. on EU–Russia relations, under the supervision of Bertrand Badie at Sciences Po (Paris). She has been a guest lecturer at the Free University of Brussels (ULB), the Moscow State Institute (University) of International Relations (MGIMO) and the Izmir University of Economics (Turkey). She also collaborated with the Portuguese Embassy to the Russian Federation in the context of the Portuguese Presidency of the EU. She is at present a visiting research fellow at the Centre for European Policy Studies (CEPS) in Brussels. Her recent publications include European (In)Security. The European Union, Russia and the Atlantic Alliance: The Institutionalisation of a Strategic Relationship (2006); ‘ESDP and Russia: A Decade of Unfulfilled Promise’, forthcoming by Elsevier; ‘The European Union and Russia: A Key to European stability?’, forthcoming by the European Studies Institute (ESI) of MGIMO, Moscow; ‘Redefining the European Security Architecture: Where Do the European Union and Russia Stand?’, forthcoming by Biblioteca Nueva, Madrid; ‘EU Policies towards Russia, 1999–2007: Realpolitik Intended’, in N. Tocci (ed.) (2008), Russia in Europe: The Challenges of Political Convergence (2008). Maria Raquel Freire is Assistant Professor in the Department of International Relations at the University of Coimbra and researcher at the Centre for Social Studies (CES) of the University of Coimbra. She is also Co-ordinator of the Ph.D. Programme in International Politics and Conflict Resolution at the same university, co-ordinator of the Peace Studies Group at the Centre for Social Studies, and a member of the Board of Directors of the Portuguese Political Science Association. Her research focuses on foreign policy, Russia and the post-Soviet space and peace studies. She has published papers in refereed journals dealing with these topics, such as the Caucasian Review of International Affairs, Asian Perspective, Global Society, Comparative Constitutional Review, Journal of Conflict, Security and Development, and The Bologna Center Journal of International Affairs. Recent publications include a chapter on Russia and the EU in R. E. Kanet (ed.), A Resurgent Russia and the West: The European Union, NATO and Beyond (2009); ‘Russia and the CIS states’, in E. A. Kolodziej

x

Notes on Contributors

and R. E. Kanet (eds), From Superpower to Besieged Global Power: Implications for American Foreign Policy and Global Order (2008); ‘The ESDP:History, Structures and Capabilities’, in M. Merlingen and R. Ostrauskaite (eds), The European Security and Defence Policy: An Implementation Perspective (2008). She is also the author of Conflict and Security in the Former Soviet Union: The Role of the OSCE (2003); The Challenges to Democratisation in a Global World (2004), and Russian Foreign Policy under Putin (forthcoming, in Portuguese). P. Terrence Hopmann is Professor of International Relations and Director of the Conflict Management Program at the Paul H. Nitze School of Advanced International Studies of The Johns Hopkins University. Until 1 July 2008 he was Professor of political science and Chair of the Political Science Department at Brown University, where he also was director of the Global Security Program of the Thomas J. Watson Jr. Institute of International Studies, the Center for Foreign Policy Development and the International Relations Program; was Professor of political science at the University of Minnesota and director of its Harold Scott Quigley Center for International Studies; served as Vice President of the International Studies Association and Programme Chair of three ISA international meetings; held the position of editor of the International Studies Quarterly; was a Fulbright Fellow four times, twice in Belgium and twice in Austria, and was a senior fellow at the United States Institute of Peace and the Woodrow Wilson International Center for Scholars. His research focuses on the Organization for Security and Co-operation in Europe. Professor Hopmann works primarily in the areas of international security, negotiation, and conflict management. His research focuses on theories of international negotiation and conflict resolution; on negotiations on arms control and disarmament; and on the role of international institutions, especially the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe (OSCE), in promoting good governance, human rights, and conflict management in the former Soviet states and the Balkans since the end of the Cold War. His major publications include Building Security in Post-Cold War Eurasia: The OSCE and U.S. Foreign Policy (1999); The Negotiation Process and the Resolution of International Conflicts (1996); Rethinking the Nuclear Weapons Dilemma in Europe (1988); Unity and Disintegration in International Alliances, co-author (1973, reprinted in 1984); and numerous articles and books. Roger E. Kanet is Professor in the Department of International Studies of the University of Miami, where he served as Dean of the School of International Studies 1997–2000. Prior to 1997, he taught at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, where he was a member of the Department of Political Science and served as Head of that Department, 1984–7, and as Associate Vice Chancellor for Academic Affairs and Director of International Programs and Studies (1989–97). He has published more than 200 scholarly articles

Notes on Contributors xi

and edited more than 25 books. Recent publications include The United States and Europe in a Changing World (2009); A Resurgent Russia and the West: The European Union, NATO and Beyond (2009); From Superpower to Besieged Global Power: Restoring World Order after the Failure of the Bush Doctrine (2008) (co-edited with Edward A. Kolodziej); Russia, Re-Emerging Great Power (2007); and The New Security Environment: The Impact on Russia, Central and Eastern Europe (2005). He is a member of the Council on Foreign Relations, New York. Heidi Kjærnet is a Research Fellow at the Energy Programme of the Norwegian Institute of International Affairs (NUPI). She is a doctoral candidate working on the project provisionally entitled ‘Petroleum, Politics and Power: The Cases of Azerbaijan, Kazakhstan and Russia’, which aims to analyse the relations between state petroleum companies and the state in these three countries. Her main research interest is energy politics and foreign relations in the post-Soviet space. She is the coeditor of a forthcoming Routledge book Caspian Petroleum Politics: Azerbaijan, Kazakhstan and Turkmenistan (with Indra Overland and Andrea Herschman Kendall-Taylor). Mohiaddin Mesbahi is Professor of International Relations at Florida International University (FIU), Miami, Florida, and the Director of Middle East Studies Center. He received his Ph.D. from the University of Miami in 1988 and conducted postdoctoral research at Oxford University (England) in 1991–2. He is the author of numerous works on Soviet–Iranian relations and the international relations of Central Asia and the former Soviet Union. His most recent works include Russia and the Third World in the Post-Soviet Era (1993) and Central Asia and the Caucasus after the Soviet Union: Domestic and International Dynamics (1994). His articles have appeared in Central Asian Survey, Middle East Journal, and Middle East Insight. His current research agenda includes the role of subjectivity in US–Iran relations, and the role and impact of securitisation of culture and identity on shaping the key characteristics of the contemporary international security system. Bertil Nygren is Associate Professor of political science at the Swedish National Defence College and at the Department of Political Science, Stockholm University. He has held various administrative positions at Stockholm University, including Head of Department and Deputy Head of Department 1994–2001. His most recent monograph is The Rebuilding of Greater Russia: Putin’s Foreign Policy Toward the CIS Countries (2008). He has also published articles and chapters in various anthologies on Russian politics, especially foreign policy. These include an article in Problems of PostCommunism and chapters in Roger E. Kanet (ed), Russia: Re-Emerging Great Power (2007); Kjell Engelbrekt and Jan Hallenberg (eds), The European Union and Strategy: An Emerging Actor (2008); Charlotte Wagnsson, James Sperling,

xii Notes on Contributors

and Jan Hallenberg (eds),The EU in a Multipolar World: Security Governance Meets Great Power Gambit (2009); Roger Kanet (ed.), A Resurgent Russia and Europe (2009); Kjell Engelbrekt and Bertil Nygren (eds), Russia and Europe: Building Partnerships, Digging Trenches (2010); Patrik Ahlgren, Bo Huldt, Susanna Huldt, Juha Kurtunen and Bertil Nygren (eds), Russia on our Minds. Russia and Northern Europe, Strategic Yearbook 2009 (2010). Alberto Priego is currently teaching at the Universidad Pontificia de Comillas in Madrid. Earlier he was Associate Professor of International Relations and Regional Integration in Asia and the Pacific and Security and Cooperation in Europe at Complutense University (Madrid). He has also taught at the UNED University (Madrid) and at the School of Oriental and African Studies of the University of London. His research deals with political Islam, democracy and local tradition in Central Asia. He holds a BA in Political Science, an M.Phil. in International Relations and a Ph.D. in Political Science (Honors) from Complutense University. His recent publications include ‘NATO Cooperation towards South Caucasus’, Caucasian Review of International Affairs (2008), ‘Why Pakistan is a “Desirable” State for Radical Jihadism’, Safe Democracy (2008) and ‘Pakistan between Central and South Asia RSC’, Central Asia and the Caucasus (forthcoming). Richard Sakwa is Professor of Russian and European Politics at the University of Kent at Canterbury and an Associate Fellow of the Russia and Eurasia Programme at the Royal Institute of International Affairs, Chatham House. He has published widely on Soviet, Russian and post-communist affairs. Recent books include: Postcommunism (1999), Contextualising Secession: Normative Aspects of Secession Struggles (2003) (co-edited with Bruno Coppieters); the edited volume Chechnya: From Past to Future (2005); Russian Politics and Society (2008); Putin: Russia’s Choice (2008), and The Quality of Freedom: Khodorkovsky, Putin and the Yukos Affair (2009). He is currently working on The Crisis of Russian Democracy: Factionalism and the Medvedev Succession. Licínia Simão recently received a Ph.D. in International Relations at the School of Economics, University of Coimbra, Portugal. Her research deals with the European Union’s Neighbourhood Policy towards the Southern Caucasus, with a focus on political and security issues. She is currently a junior researcher at NICPRI and was a visiting research fellow at the Centre for European Policy Studies, in Brussels, from January to October 2007. Publications include ‘The European Neighbourhood Policy Viewed from Belarus and Georgia’ with A. Vysotskaya V. G., CFSP Forum (2008); ‘The EU’s Neighborhood Policy and the South Caucasus: Unfolding New Patterns of Cooperation’, with M. R. Freire, Caucasian Review of International Affairs (2008); ‘Shaping EU–South Caucasus Relations through Strategic Patterns: Energy and Conflicts in Perspective’, in Barrinha, A. (ed.), Towards a Global Dimension: EU’s Conflict

Notes on Contributors xiii

Management in the Neighbourhood and Beyond (2008); ‘The Case for Opening the Turkish–Armenian Border’ with N. Tocci, B. Gültenkin, and N. Tavitian, study for the Foreign Affairs Committee of the European Parliament (2007); ‘The Armenian Road to Democracy – Dimensions of a Tortuous Process’, with M. R. Freire, CEPS Working Document (2007); ‘The EU’s Neighborhood Policy towards the Southern Caucasus: Searching for Commonalty in a Patchy Scenario’, with M. R. Freire, Comparative Constitutional Review Journal (2007, in Russian). She has presented papers at several international conferences, such as the UACES 38th annual conference, the Second WISC conference, and the 7th International CISS Millennium Conference, among others.

Preface The editors wish to express their sincere appreciation to the authors of the chapters in this volume for both the quality of the analyses they have provided and for the speed and efficiency with which they revised the original drafts of their papers and responded to various editorial suggestions for clarification and for the strengthening of the arguments presented. The original idea for a volume focusing on the growing complexity of political and economic interactions in Central Asia and the Greater Caspian Basin and the role of external actors in those interactions emerged from research carried out by Maria Raquel Freire. Since she had worked on several other projects with Roger Kanet, and knowing well his extensive past role as organiser and editor, she asked whether he would be willing to join with her in completing a team of scholars to investigate the various aspects of the issue and in editing the resulting volume. He enthusiastically agreed, as the proposed project was directly relevant to his own interests. Because of the wonders of the Internet they easily created a team of scholars from across seven countries in Europe and North America with whom they have maintained regular contact in modifying and extending the various parts of the analysis. On behalf of all of the authors the editors wish to thank the many others who have made important contributions to the final draft, in particular anonymous readers for the publisher and the publisher’s production staff. Their contributions have helped to ensure the clarity and readability of the final manuscript. Maria Raquel Freire Coimbra, Portugal Roger E. Kanet Miami, Florida

xiv

Introduction Russia in Eurasia: External Players and Regional Dynamics Maria Raquel Freire and Roger E. Kanet

In recent years Russia has re-emerged as a major political and economic actor, in particular in former Soviet space. However, as Moscow attempts to reassert its influence – even control – over these areas, it finds that in the years since the collapse of the former USSR other state and non-state actors have established contacts with the countries of the region and attempted to exercise influence in them. The result is a competitive relationship between Moscow and the external actors for presence and influence throughout these regions.1 This volume focuses on Russia’s policies towards the greater Caspian Basin – specifically relations with its near neighbours in Transcaucasia and Central Asia. It examines the Russian Federation’s policy(ies) towards neighbouring states in competition with other external actors – including major states; international organisations such as the North Atlantic Treaty Organisation (NATO), the European Union (EU), and the Commonwealth of Independent States/Collective Security Treaty Organisation (CIS/CSTO); multinational oil corporations; non-governmental organisations (NGOs); and so forth. The primary focus of the analysis is on Russia as the main state actor in the relationships and on the possibilities of and limits on its initiatives in the face of the dynamics of the multi-level and multi-actor cooperation/ competition in the region that encompasses the five Central Asian republics – Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, Turkmenistan, and Uzbekistan – and the three South Caucasus countries of Armenia, Azerbaijan and Georgia. Russian foreign policy has been increasingly refocused in Eurasia, following a multi-vectorial formula and pursuing a multipolar international order that corresponds to Russian national interests. The main documents adopted at the beginning of Vladimir Putin’s tenure as President of Russia state the potential destabilising role of a ‘unipolar structure of the world with the economic and power domination of the United States’, note the CIS as an area of strategic importance and point to the Eastern dimension (the Asia–Pacific region) as a relevant region in Moscow’s external policy (National Security Concept, 2000; Russian Military Doctrine, 2000; Foreign Policy Concept, 2000). 1

2

Russia in Eurasia

Thus, Russia seeks a balanced foreign policy, where the search for multiple poles aims at diversifying allies and allowing the shifting of privileged relations in a constant search for counter-balance and primacy. It is the Russian goal of power projection that will assure influence in an area it describes as of fundamental relevance to its interests and well-being – the post-Soviet space – and pursue and externalise its own national interests across the entire region, Eurasia. These major foreign policy documents also define Russia’s position in the ‘new great game’, where complex dynamic processes of interaction do not allow Russia a hegemonic role in this region, as the extended discussion in the following chapters will demonstrate. Resting on a pragmatic assessment of Russian possibilities and limits, Russian foreign policy has conferred on its external dealings a sense of continuity and stability by including the CIS as a priority area, along with its policy towards both the West and East Asia. This approach has provided Russia the potential to play off these different dimensions to its own best interest in the broader game of projecting power in an increasingly interdependent international order. The words of Foreign Minister Sergei Lavrov, in the spring of 2007, demonstrate well this Russian positioning. As Lavrov stated (2007), ‘Russian foreign policy today is such that for the first time in its history, Russia is beginning to protect its national interest by using its competitive advantages,’ referring mainly to energy geopolitics. The combination of internal and external factors has rendered possible this affirmative stance, with order and growth at home sustaining the search for recognition and legitimacy in regional and global political dealings. This is a policy alignment that Dmitry Medvedev, elected President of Russia in March 2008, has been pursuing, conferring continuity to the concept of ‘sovereign democracy’ as the basis of a pragmatic and multi-faceted foreign policy. However, the pursuit of such an approach has not been without its limits – limits that derive, in part at least, from the involvement of other major actors in regions viewed by Moscow as essential to Russia’s interests. Nowhere is this more visible than in Central Asia and the Greater Caspian Basin. Central Asia is an intra-continental corridor exposed to different influences that are likely to have an impact on development policies, security-building options and strategic alignments. The Soviet style of authoritarian rule is still very much present in these societies, and the current transition period of ‘imitative democracy’ is a part of a complex borrowing that is still trying to overcome the syndrome of suddenly acquiring independent status. This has allowed an excessive personification of the choices ‘from despotism to soft mimicking authoritarianism’. The triad individual/society/state does not exist in some Central Asian states, making it difficult to construct models of identification; moreover, the situation is further complicated by clashing modes of development in the region, particularly Russian (although also Chinese), as well as by political–religious affiliations and elite power politics (Imanaliev, 2008).

Maria Raquel Freire and Roger E. Kanet

3

‘Eurasian integration, initially advocated by Kazakhstan’s President Nazarbayev and subsequently endorsed by Russia’s President Putin, is a concept on paper only’ (Rywkin, 2006, p. 196), most noticeably because Central Asia did not emerge as a single united region after the fall of the Soviet Union. Muratbek Imanaliev sees the area as a place of complex nationalisms, with different systems of governance, distinct self-perceptions, and differentiated behaviour in both internal and international terms. For example, Turkmenistan regards itself as a Caspian state, with relations with Iran and Azerbaijan as a priority; Tajikistan directs its attention to South Asia, whereas Kazakhstan is a Eurasian country, the only true bridge towards the West (Imanaliev, 2008). And, the more recent moves by Kazakhstan to revive the idea of Central Asia as a single region were again confronted with Uzbek reticence. ‘Concerning the four-sided, or even five-sided consortium, we still are determined [to create it], but for now this will not happen because again we have different opinions’ (Uzbek President Islam Karimov, cited in Pannier, 2008). These inward-looking and power- and influence-centred processes regarding regional integration dynamics in the area have contributed to backwardness and instability. Central Asia is landlocked, and access to the sea is understood as fundamental for the development and growth of the region. The existing and planned network of infrastructures, including transport systems and pipeline routes, is high on the agendas of the various countries. It should also be noted that the countries in the region suffer from wide economic inequalities and widespread poverty that may constitute further elements of instability. Cooperation over these delicate and most pressing issues should develop unrestrained of suspicion and be built upon a shared understanding about growth and the regional potential resulting from closer collaboration and the development of joint projects. In fact, regional integration ‘would encourage geopolitical maturation and a platform designed to promote the mutual national interests of the states in the region. It would also serve as an institutional framework for the achievement of political stability, economic growth, and security in the region – the main criteria that the states of Central Asia should use to assess the performance of the great powers in Central Asia and in neighbouring countries’ (Shaikhutdinov, 2007, p. 57). The expanded presence of Russia has been increasingly noticeable in the area in a double effort at countering external influences and promoting Russian policies in the region. ‘Eurasianism’, or a contemporary version of the ‘Monroe Doctrine’ (Kubicek, 2004, p. 208), demonstrates well this shift in the intensity of Russian involvement in Central Asia, which had clearly gained visibility by the early 2000s, conferring substance to the definition of the area as one of primary interest for its foreign policy (Foreign Policy Concept of the Russian Federation 2008, Foreign Policy Concept 2000). With regard to the Southern Caucasus, the three states have been widely regarded as a regional grouping by external actors, but such a perception

4

Russia in Eurasia

seems clearly to have outlived its usefulness because it recognises neither long-standing nor recently renewed differences between these states. This regional labelling, clearly based on a geographical approach to the area, does not reflect the considerably distinct realities of each country in political, economic, and security terms. Nevertheless, and simultaneously, the Caucasian context reveals high levels of interdependence in matters related to regional conflicts, migration fluxes, ethnicity, and economic factors, particularly energy assets and routes, as well as a long-shared past of territorial occupation. In addition, the area has been until very recently framed within the CIS under the regional pre-eminence of the Russian Federation, where asymmetrical bargaining/concessional relations take place, with close collaboration with Armenia, a wait/see/act relationship with Azerbaijan, and very strained relations with Georgia. The long-standing conflict between Armenia and Azerbaijan over NagornoKarabakh is at the basis of the difficult relations between these two countries; similarly, the long-frozen status of the Abkhaz and South Ossetian conflicts and the August 2008 Russian intervention in Georgia demonstrate the unstable playing field that the South Caucasus is. The armed conflict in Georgia in the summer of 2008 has naturally led to the republic’s withdrawal from the CIS institutional framework. In this context differentiated levels of interaction have been taking place, not only among the three South Caucasian countries, but also regarding external players, which have effect on the region’s dynamics, and that clearly go well beyond the strong presence of Russia. However, and despite this scenario of conflicting dynamics, there is an urgent need to recognise that interdependence exists between Armenia, Azerbaijan and Georgia (despite all the difficulties entailed), but also that this interdependence extends in fluid and dynamic patterns to include other state and non-state actors, varying of course according to the issues at stake. Mapping this mutating interdependence is a first step for regional actors better to assess their interests and strategies. Furthermore, and since external actors also impact on local and regional dynamics, emerging institutional and ideational elements are important for an understanding of the extent to which local security rationales are changing and adjusting to, for instance, Western and Far Eastern views. The issues of regionalism – as a constructed reality in Eurasia – and great power rivalry are central concerns of the chapters that follow. Regionalism is characterised mainly by intensified political and economic interaction, where the density of relations and commonalities between states in a determined spatial context confer on regions a dynamic nature with transformational potential. Despite the existing potential for further cooperation and integration initiatives, however, the conflictual and polarised relationships in Eurasia do not match this theoretical possibility. The current reality of the area means that a combination of power and resources allows certain outside

Maria Raquel Freire and Roger E. Kanet

5

states to play a particularly active role in the international system with the goal of pursuing and projecting particular national interests. This power approach is strengthened by the fungibility of various of the means available to these external actors – that is, the capability of using certain resources for differentiated purposes (Guzzini, Lemke, and O’Callaghan, 2005). This has been evident in the strategies of different great powers, both regional and external, such as the Russian Federation, China or the US. The dynamics that underlie this dialectic relationship between regionalism and great power rivalry are the object of analysis. The Caspian Basin, as a point of encounter of differentiated actors with not always coincident objectives, has become the epicentre of Eurasia, where the confluence of interests, goals, and policies of the states strategically located in the area, and of external players, makes it a source of multi-dimensional (un)cooperative dynamics in need of analysis. These are precisely the issues that this volume seeks to address, focusing on Russia as the main actor in an area where multi-level and multi-actor cooperation/ competition embed Russian actions in a complex net of interdependence and interconnections, highlighting its possibilities and limitations in an increasingly competitive Eurasia. In the chapters that follow the reader will discover that not all of the contributors share identical views either of the explicit nature of Russian policy or of some of the implications of that policy for the future of the Eurasian and the global political systems. We believe that the differing interpretations of Russian policy provide a more nuanced – and probably more accurate – picture of Russia’s position in former Soviet space than would any attempt to impose on all the contributors to this volume a single perspective. We begin our assessment of Russia’s place in the Greater Caspian Basin with three broad chapters that examine, first, the changing nature of Russian Federation policy towards the CIS states generally and then the general nature of the political and economic rivalries that have emerged in Central Asia. In Chapter 1, ‘Russia and the CIS Region: The Russian Regional Security Complex’, Bertil Nygren provides the context, including the changes in Russian policy under former President Putin, within which Russia views its near neighbours, including the countries of the Greater Caspian Basin. He focuses on the more assertive aspects of Russian policy in recent years, as well as on the increased use of Russian economic leverage – especially its control of the production and flow of energy – in its efforts to re-establish a dominant position within the region. In Chapter 2, entitled ‘International Rivalries in Eurasia’, Stephen Blank provides the parameters for the competition for access and influence throughout Central Asia and the Caucasus that emerged after the collapse of the former Soviet Union. Included in this competition for influence with the Russian Federation are not only the US and China, but also smaller yet important regional state actors such as Turkey and Iran. Blank discusses

6

Russia in Eurasia

briefly the core objectives and the major means employed by each of the major state actors involved in efforts to establish themselves advantageously in their relations with the countries of the region. In the third and final of the overview chapters, titled ‘Eurasia at the Heart of Russian Politics: Dynamics of (In)Dependence in a Complex Setting’, Maria Raquel Freire focuses on the complexities of the policy of the Russian Federation towards its southern neighbours and the impact of that policy in the ways in which those countries view and interact with the rest of the world. In discussing the evolution of Russian policy she emphasises the shift away from ideology to pragmatism in Russian policy; she notes, as well, the diversity of interests that characterise the countries of the Caucasus and Central Asia. Finally, she categorises the policies of these countries according to the degree of autonomy or dependence on Moscow that they exhibit in their policies and explains the reasons for the differences in orientation. The five chapters that comprise the second part of the book provide detailed assessments of the policies of the major state actors, as well as the European Union, towards the region, the degree to which those policies challenge Russian interests, and the Russian responses to them. In Chapter 4, ‘Russia and the Greater Caspian Basin: Withstanding the US Challenge’, Roger E. Kanet examines the generally failed efforts of the US to contain the return of Moscow’s influence in Central Asia and the Caucasus, as well as its attempts, especially since 9/11, to establish a military and political presence throughout the region. He notes, however, that even though the US has not succeeded in restricting Russia’s role, the Russian Federation has discovered that the governments of the region are not willing to fall in line with Russian preferences. Rather, some of them are becoming adept at playing external powers off against one another. Sandra Fernandes and Licínia Simão outline recent developments in relations with the EU in the fifth chapter, ‘Competing for Eurasia: Russian and European Union Perspectives’. They begin by noting that for the EU Eurasia, the areas east of the current EU borders, represents the ‘last frontier’ of EU–Russian relations. They emphasise the importance for EU–Russian relations of the latter’s military intervention in Georgia, but also the importance of divisions between Russia and the countries of Europe concerning the nature of Eastern Europe and Eurasia in the future. In addition to different visions of a future Eurasia, however, are the factors related to Europe’s increasing dependence on Russia for energy and the implications that this is likely to have on relations between the two sides. In Chapter 6, ‘Russia and China in Eurasia: The Wary Partnership’, John Berryman tracks the historical roots of Russian and Chinese policies in Central Asia before examining is some detail their current ‘strategic partnership’, based on a competitive/cooperative relationship throughout the region. Berryman gives special consideration to the Shanghai Cooperation

Maria Raquel Freire and Roger E. Kanet

7

Organisation as the centrepiece of both Chinese and Russian efforts to stabilise and control the area. In Chapter 7, ‘India and Central Asia’, Amit Das Gupta deals with a topic virtually ignored in the existing literature on the region. He defines the region broadly to include Afghanistan and argues that for New Delhi the driving force of its entering into the modern version of the ‘great game’ is the ongoing conflict with Pakistan and the search for relevant allies to the west and north of Pakistan. In addition, however, he concludes that the Islamic challenge to Western interests throughout the region provides India with the opportunity to gain support for its policies in both Europe and the US. Chapter 8, ‘Eurasia between Russia, Turkey and Iran’, by Mohiaddin Mesbahi, tracks in some detail the policies of Turkey and Iran towards Russia, Central Asia and the Caucasus. He provides a careful assessment of the changes in policy orientation in both countries that provide the foundation for recent policy developments in relations with Russia and in policy towards the broad post-Soviet region of Central Asia and the Caucasus. He notes the importance of Iranian–US animosity in facilitating the ‘return’ of Russia to the region and the implications of the shifts in Turkish policy for the Turkish–Russian relationship and, more broadly, political and economic developments throughout the region. In the third part of the book the authors treat the place of intergovernmental organisations and non-state actors in influencing Russian policy. In Chapter 9, ‘Senseless Dreams and Small Steps: The CIS and CSTO between Integration and Cooperation’, Richard Sakwa examines the place of two regional organisations in which Russia is the dominant member in relations between the Russian Federation and the states of the Greater Caspian Basin. He begins with a discussion of Russia’s objectives and the various roles that Russia has hoped the two key regional organisations, as well as several secondary ones, would play in fulfilling those goals. He concludes with a discussion of the role of bandwagoning, even when involuntary, in the relations of Russia with its near neighbours. ‘The Atlantic Alliance in Eurasia: A Different Player?’ is the topic of Alberto Priego’s analysis in Chapter 10. He argues that the nature of the Russia–NATO relationship is directly related to the strength of the former – ‘the weaker Russia is, the more it agrees to cooperation’. The fact that NATO’s goals of promoting democracy and free markets are viewed by Moscow as a threat to its national interests makes the improvement of their relations problematic. P. Terrence Hopmann’s ‘Intergovernmental Organisations and Non-State Actors, Russia and Eurasia: The OSCE’, Chapter 11, has much in common with the chapters in the introductory section of this volume, for it returns to a broad assessment of the larger political context of Russia’s relations with its neighbours and with the outside world and of the place of the Caspian Basin in those relations. It places the discussion within the context of the declining role of the OSCE in Eurasian politics in the past

8

Russia in Eurasia

decade and of the deterioration of prospects for effective Russian–Western security cooperation. Russia no longer views the organisation as an institution likely to support its interests and has, thus, withdrawn its support for the organisation. In the twelfth and final chapter, entitled ‘Strategic Resources, Strategic Players: The Role of National versus International Oil Companies in PostSoviet Eurasia’, Heidi Kjærnet tackles the question of the role of international oil and gas companies in the development of the gas and oil industries of Azerbaijan, Kazakhstan, and Russia. She notes that only Azerbaijan, of the three, is pursuing a policy that encourages collaboration between both local national companies and the international corporations. In both Kazakhstan and Russia, to an even greater extent, national companies have been charged with counterbalancing any influence that international companies might exert on production and distribution. The re-emergence of Russia as a major political actor in the international system, in particular in former Soviet space, the presence of gas and petroleum throughout the Greater Caspian region, and the interest and involvement of external actors – both nation states and non-state actors – in the area for economic and strategic regions has resulted in a return of a contemporary variant of the ‘great game’ that engaged Tsarist Russia and the British Empire in Central Asia throughout much of the nineteenth century. The following chapters help to shed light on the renewed and expanded competition in the region that has followed the dissolution of the Soviet Union.

Note 1. The contributions to this study were completed prior to the overthrow of President Kurmanbek Bakiyev of Kyrgyzstan and the ethnic violence against the large Uzbek minority in that country in summer 2010.

References Foreign Policy Concept of the Russian Federation (2000). Approved by the President of the Russian Federation V. Putin, 28 June. Available at http://www.fas.org/nuke/ guide/russia/doctrine/econcept.htm. (accessed on 28 January 2010). Foreign Policy Concept (2008). The Foreign Policy Concept of the Russian Federation, Official Web Portal of the President of Russia, 12 July. Available at http://www. kremlin.ru/eng/text/docs/2008/07/204750.shtml. (accessed on 28 January 2010). Guzzini, Stefano, Lemke, Douglas, and O’Callaghan, Terry (2005). ‘Power’, ‘Great Powers’, and ‘Regionalism’, respectively, in Martin Griffiths (ed.) Encyclopedia of International Relations and Global Politics. London: Routledge. Imanaliev, Muratbek (2008). Keynote Speech: ‘Central Asia: Where Is It?’, 5 August, Central Eurasian Studies Society (CESS), First Regional Conference, 4–7 August, Royal Beach, Chocktal, Issyq Kol, Kyrgyzstan. Kubicek, Paul (2004). ‘Russian Energy Policy in the Caspian Basin’, World Affairs, vol. 166, no. 4, pp. 207–17.

Maria Raquel Freire and Roger E. Kanet

9

Lavrov, Sergei (2007). ‘Russia: Kremlin Sees its Foreign Policy Star on Rise’, RFE/RL, 21 March. National Security Concept (2000). Russian Federation. Available at http://www. russiaeurope.mid.ru/russiastrat2000.html. (accessed on 28 January 2010). Pannier, Bruce (2008). ‘Central Asia: Odd Couple Crashes NATO Summit’, RFE/RL, 1 April. Russian Military Doctrine (2000). Available at http://news.kremlin.ru/ref_notes/461. (accessed on 28 January 2010). Rywkin, Michael (2006). ‘Security and Stability in Central Asia: Differing Interests and Perspectives’, American Foreign Policy Interests, no. 28, pp. 193–217. Shaikhutdinov, Marat E. (2007). ‘Central Asia: Developing the Region in the Vortex of the Geopolitical and Geoeconomic Antagonisms of the World Powers’, American Foreign Policy Interests, no. 29, pp. 45–58.

This page intentionally left blank

Part I The Russian Federation and the Greater Caspian Basin

This page intentionally left blank

1 Russia and the CIS Region: The Russian Regional Security Complex Bertil Nygren

In 1991 one state and superpower, the USSR, crumbled. In its stead 15 states emerged, few of which had an evident capacity to become a strong state, let alone a great power. The Baltic states had already made their choice of returning to the ‘West’, the three Western republics of Ukraine, Belarus, and Moldova looked hesitantly to the West, the three Caucasian states returned to the statehood of the pre-Russian revolution period but now equipped with a true opportunity to achieve self-determination, and the Central Asian republics received a status that they had never seen before in this region, as territorially fixed states with several ethnicities. All these states adopted Western-like constitutions and hailed democracy and the free market economy as the standard model for their own development, despite the fact that surviving communist leaders continued to be at the helm after the condemnation of communist rule. It was as if everyone was surprised, almost flabbergasted, at what Yeltsin actually meant in fall 1991 about ‘grasping as much freedom as you can’. He even encouraged a Western orientation for the new states. Furthermore, an organisation for the breakup of the USSR, the Commonwealth of Independent States (CIS), was created to handle the divorce. These were happy years for the West, and expectations ran high with respect to the final victory of democracy and the free market. The need for finances and technological knowledge was enormous in Russia and the region, and the West did not wait to sniff out the enormous amounts of metals, minerals, and hydrocarbons – there seemed to be a natural solution to many of the problems of the Soviet era, as well as the new one – Western capital and know-how should enrich those countries with resources and replace the all too worn-down Soviet production and transportation equipment. Practical problems were soon to be detected. The very geographical structure of the USSR with its politically – rather than ethnically – based borders was one problem; another problem arose from the fact that the solutions to production and transportation lanes did not build on the republics as much as the totality of the former USSR. 13

14 Russia and the CIS Region

Economic reform was hard for all republics, and the turn to a free market meant that the nomenklatura people of the Soviet era were able to enrich themselves and compete with the new entrepreneurs. In addition, the search for an identity in many of the former Soviet republics turned out to be as painful as it was in many colonial states freed in the 1950s–1970s: ethnicities were now mixed, and the new nationalism that emerged in the CIS region often discriminated against existing minorities, including Russians living in most other Soviet republics. Worst of all, the Russian economy and society soon turned away from its pro-Western orientation and began to look into its own history to find its proper role and place in the world. The Primakov era, with its attempt to find guidance in the post-Crimea war, had taken root by the mid-1990s – Russia had a destiny of its own, separate from the West, and Russia was once again to recollect its strength and forces in order to lead the region.1 The strength of the argument was much stronger than the actual ability at the time to implement such ideas, and the economic collapse in August 1998 only showed how long a distance Russia would have to make. All through the 1990s Russia preferred to work with its former co-republics on a bilateral basis, and the role of the CIS was never even high enough for its summits to draw the attention of analysts and the general public. Nevertheless, several attempts were made in the 1990s to solve the most obvious security problems resulting from the dissolution of the USSR. The first and foremost security issue was how to deal with the nuclear arsenal of the USSR, spread out not only in Russia but also found in Ukraine, Belarus, and Kazakhstan. Another was how to handle border issues among the former republics, where borders had rather been a matter for cartographers than politicians, once drawn by history and later by Stalin personally – illegal migration and smuggling of contraband was an obvious problem in a region where no border controls existed. With respect to the nuclear weapons issue, only Ukraine insisted on some compensation but all generally agreed that the nuclear arsenal should be returned to Russia. With the help of US financial contributions the issue was solved by the late 1990s. Other issues of a military nature were also solved by the late 1990s, including the division of the Black Sea fleet and the naval base in the Crimea, and partially also the very issue of the Crimea itself (which had belonged to Russia up to 1954). The splitting up of civilian resources had other problems largely connected to the ‘borderless’ Soviet Union: production and energy facilities, including transportation, were divided up with no particular economic logic. It would take many years for business relations on such obvious cooperation opportunities to restart. As noted, border problems turned out to be as severe as any military and economic problems (Sakwa, 2002, p. 383). Since Stalin had carved out the borders of the Soviet republics in the 1920s and 1930s precisely to make the republics weak and vulnerable, to cut off local ethnic communities from

Bertil Nygren 15

each other, when perestroika evolved, these ethnic tensions soon turned out to be explosive, both in the Caucasus (Nagorno-Karabakh, Abkhazia, South Ossetia), in Central Asia (the Fergana valley) and in the European part of the Russian dominion, in Ukraine (Crimea) and in Moldova (Transdniester). Apart from these more sinister effects of Stalin’s reshuffling of borders and peoples, the very fact that borders often cut through cities and villages testifies to the financial problems of establishing borders and border controls where they had never existed before. In addition to high costs, there was no obvious desire for many of the new states even to establish such borders. One immediate solution was to grant visa-free border crossings. Among other common issues, the terrorism threat contributed to the problem, especially in Central Asia and the Caucasus ( Jonson, 2004, p. 67). Terrorism issues in the CIS were internationalised as well with the Taliban’s moving into Kabul in 1996, encouraging Islamic movements also in Central Asia to establish a caliphate. The Chechen wars in Russia itself encouraged terrorism in the neighbouring areas. The CIS as an organisation was an anomaly under Yeltsin:2 despite numerous agreements that were never implemented, the organisation endured many death certificates and the many threats of members to leave the organisation, and even the setting up of alternative and competing organisations (like GUAM and GUUAM, short for Georgia, Ukraine, Uzbekistan, Azerbaijan and Moldova). Most often, the CIS turned out to be a forum for discussions, but in the defence sector, the organisation has been a support for rather far-reaching defence cooperation. In 1992, a Collective Security Treaty was signed by Russia, Belarus, Georgia, Armenia, Azerbaijan, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Uzbekistan, and Tajikistan, but Uzbekistan, Georgia, and Azerbaijan later abrogated the treaty. The treaty focused on anti-terrorism activities and created an anti-terrorism force, which undertook frequent military exercises in the latter part of the 1990s. In the economic sphere, the CIS has made several attempts to create custom unions and free trade agreements, all of which have failed in the end. In the Putin period, attempts to establish a common economic market were also made (with Belarus, Ukraine, and Kazakhstan), but these lost credibility after the ‘Orange revolution’ in Ukraine in late 2004. In conclusion, the CIS under Yeltsin was a rather passive organisation and used only occasionally by Russia as an instrument for its own interest in the region – the larger picture is that of an uninterested Russia.3 Putin would change all of this drastically. His policies soon turned out to be fairly evident: to restore Russia’s hegemony in the CIS region, or what I have elsewhere referred to as the ‘rebuilding of Greater Russia’. There have nevertheless been differences in Russian foreign policy based on the particular problems of the three subregional security complexes out of which the greater Russian regional security complex (the entire CIS region) consists, depending on current political, economic, and cultural issues.

16 Russia and the CIS Region

The European regional sub-complex Of the three subregions, the European one is by far the most important to Russia, in terms of security, economics, and culture. That is also why the possible ‘loss’ of this region, and especially of Ukraine to the West, is intolerable to Putin and Medvedev. Ukraine and Belarus are not only culturally close to Russia, but Ukraine is even seen as the very cradle of the later Muscovy state. Russian relations with Ukraine under Putin are therefore of special interest in understanding the Russian worldview and its foreign policy objectives. Putin’s policies have clearly been to tie Ukraine to Russia and loosen its ties with the West, and above all to discourage the Ukrainian longing for a European identity under the North Atlantic Treaty Organisation (NATO) and the European Union (EU). To this end, all sorts of policies have been directed, including its energy and cultural policies, with sweet words as well as threats, with verbal as well as physical attacks. Belarus has constituted much less of a problem in this respect largely because of the unpopularity of its President Lukashenka and his isolation in the last decade. Belarus is important to Russia largely because of its frontier to NATO, and, in economic terms, the problems have largely been the different economic systems that have developed in Russia and Belarus and energy issues. Moldova is not really seen as part of old Russia but nevertheless, its balancing between Russia and the West/EU has been made more difficult by the Transdniester problem, largely directed by ethnic Russians who pay no attention to the Moldovan federal government and run the region as an independent state. In the end, the European sub-complex is subject to Russian interests both geopolitically, geo-economically, and culturally, and for Russia to lose control of the region is the worst of nightmares. Of the three states in this sub-complex, Ukraine is the real gem for Russia, and not only because of its territorial size (second after Russia in Europe) and large population (almost 50 million), but also because of its borders with several central European states and the Black Sea, and of course the common thousand-year history. The many attempts by Western powers to invade Russia via Ukraine have left an indelible imprint in the geopolitical attitudes of Russians and on Ukraine’s own division between its western, rural, Catholic parts and eastern, ‘Russian’, industrialised parts, which are effectively a prolongation of the medieval division of Ukraine between the Mongols and Poles. When Putin entered the Kremlin, solutions to the three basic problems in the relationship had already been solved – the Crimea, the Black Sea fleet, and nuclear weapons on Ukrainian soil. The Ukrainian urge for the West, and especially NATO, remained the basic Russian headache, and Russia has used pipelines and gas deliveries as policy instruments, as well as flagrant

Bertil Nygren 17

Russian involvement in the ‘Orange revolution’. Putin at first attempted to turn the negative trend in the relationship, helped by the immediate post-September 11 situation when Russia and Ukraine stood at the same side of the fence. Later, the relationship was also assisted by the very fact that Ukrainian President Leonid Kuchma had become a ‘black sheep’ in the West, which made Kuchma more interested in cooperation with Russia (Kuzio, 2004). There were, however, also some conflicts between the two, most spectacularly the Tuzla incidents, in which Ukraine even displayed military force to convince Russia of the seriousness of this minor border issue. Border negotiations had been going on for several years, and only in 2003 did Putin and Kuchma sign an agreement. Economic relations in the early Putin years were also fairly positive, with massive Russian investments in Ukraine. The ‘Orange revolution’ drastically changed the stakes in the game and Russia was the big loser. More than ever, Ukraine sought to achieve membership in NATO and possibly also in the EU to change its patronage relationship to Russia. This was also the time of the first ‘gas wars’ between Russia and Ukraine, with basically the same factors involved as those in the more recent confrontations. When Putin came to power in Russia he inherited large Ukrainian debts for gas deliveries in the 1990s, in addition to gas thefts. When in 2004 Russia began to raise the prices for gas to the CIS countries to approximate more closely to international prices, the economic situation for many of the gas-dependent CIS countries became critical. The one instrument that Ukraine could use against Russian demands was to threaten to close the ‘gas tap’ to Europe, that is, the major source of income for the Russian state with respect to Europe, to which 80 per cent of deliveries passed. The first ‘gas war’ was fought out over New Year 2006, when Putin and Ukrainian President Yushchenko got personally involved after price negotiations had broken down before the 1 January deadline (Nygren, 2008a, pp. 61–2). The compromise finally reached involved new intermediary actors and higher gas prices for Ukraine and resulted in a government dismissal. A more definite agreement was signed only in summer 2006, yielding still higher prices for gas. Price negotiations for 2008 were successful, but those for 2009 again resulted in some cold days and nights in Ukraine when Russia’s Gazprom closed the tap for Ukraine. By now the issue of Ukrainian gas transit had become a definite European problem, too, since Ukraine ‘confiscated’ gas intended for Europe to compensate for the Russian closing of its Ukrainian gas tap. Belarus has a geographic position between Russian and Europe that in itself makes it geo-politically important to Russia, even apart from the ethnic and language closeness. Historically, Belarus has been part of both the Kiev state and the Polish/Lithuanian kingdom and fell under Moscow rule only in the eighteenth century. The three invasions of Russia through Belarus in the last two centuries explain the way in which Russia today views Belarus. Belarus has not longed for Europe after the breakup in

18 Russia and the CIS Region

1991, and one of the reasons was its economic dependence on Russia, a dependence that in itself has been complicated by the fact that Russia and Belarus have different economic systems – the latter has largely kept the Soviet economic system. In addition, the enlargement of NATO and the EU has forced Belarus even closer to Russia, as has the unpopularity of Lukashenka in the West. In the Putin era there have been two serious confrontational issues in the relationship (Nygren, 2008a, pp. 66–81). The first concerns the different views on how to bring about the Russia–Belarus Union that was envisaged in the mid-1990s. While Yeltsin and Lukashenka led the two countries, there was little progress, but by the very end of the Yeltsin era the two leaders signed the necessary documents for the creation of the Union. It soon turned out that Putin had a very different view from that of Lukashenka. While Lukashenka saw in the Union a relationship between two equal signatories and two separate economies, Putin saw a relationship of a strong Russian federal state with an added republic, and the necessity of adapting the Belarusian economy to the Russian economy, which in turn would have meant conceding control of important industrial entities. By summer 2002 the Union issue literally froze and in its stead there were talks of a common currency and an enlarged common market (together with Ukraine and Kazakhstan). Today, the Union idea has few supporters. The second conflict issue in the relationship was related to Russian gas exports through Belarus to Europe (amounting to 20 per cent). Russia had tried to gain control of the gas transit network, which Lukashenka resisted since it was the most important counter-argument against Russian pricesetting of domestic Belarusian gas deliveries. Russia tied the two issues of gas deliveries and price levels to the issue of controlling the Belarusian gas network. The first direct ‘gas war’ took place in early 2004, when Gazprom closed the gas tap and Belarus had to buy gas from private exporters for several months (Nygren, 2008a, pp. 77–8). The conflict ended in stalemate – Russia received higher prices for gas deliveries to Belarus but was denied control of the transit pipeline to Europe. The issue remained and the next time there were negotiations on prices and transits, the positions were sharper: Russia demanded control in exchange for cheaper gas. In the very last minutes of 2006, Lukashenka gave in and accepted the Russian demands to avoid another ‘gas war’. Today, the agreement runs up to 2011, when Belarus will pay ‘European’ prices for Russian gas deliveries. The defence area is the one in which Russia–Belarus relations have developed positively, largely as a result of mutual dependence, with Belarus having military support from Russia and Russia using Belarus as a buffer towards NATO. This was underlined when the Baltic states became NATO members. There have been discussions about a common defence force in addition to the common air defence forces already in operation, and in 2006 a regional defence force was set up. The presidential elections in

Bertil Nygren 19

Belarus in 2006 brought the two countries closer to each other after Putin supported Lukashenka against Western accusations of election fraud. Moldova is a small, poor country surrounded by Ukraine and Romania. Its history is an ever-changing story of foreign occupations, including in modern times by the Ottomans and Russia, and in medieval times by Mongols and Hungarians. In the Soviet–German pact of 1939, Moldova became part of the USSR. In 1990 the Transdniester republic with its strong Russian civilian and military presence proclaimed its independence from Moldova and a short civil war followed, when Moldovan forces attempted to retake control of Transdniester in 1992 (Herd, 2007). Largely as a result, Moldova in the Yeltsin era had a Western orientation. From 2001 a new communist government oriented itself towards Russia, but a Western orientation was again obvious from late 2003. There were in these few years several attempts to negotiate a solution to the Transdniester issue, but to no avail. One of the reasons is to be found in the fact that the Russian and Transdniestrian leaderships were not always united. Another is the fact that Russia has not been altogether eager to find solutions – to Russia, a weak and disunited Moldova is an objective in itself. In recent years, Moldova has again oriented towards the West, and has been punished by Russia: the cost of gas deliveries has been close to European prices. Unlike Ukraine and Belarus, however, Moldova has no means to counter this development. In conclusion, the European sub-complex has been and remains the most important to Russia, largely because of the perceived threat from NATO, and the oil and especially gas transit problems from Russia to Europe via Ukraine and Belarus. Russia is sensitive to all changes in this subregion that could have a geopolitical aspect, which is evident from the Russian reaction to the US missile defence installations in Poland and the Czech Republic. In the next decade, the geopolitical problems caused by NATO enlargement will remain the most important security threat to Russia, with a possible NATO membership for Ukraine as the most tangible of these.

The Caucasus regional sub-complex The Caucasus has been a headache to the Russian state for at least two reasons. Firstly, it borders on several historic great powers, Turkey and Iran in the south and Russia in the north, hemmed in by the Black and Caspian Seas. Secondly, it consists of an extremely complicated mix of ethnicities, languages and even religions, all of which have moved around in the region for hundreds of years and where the political land borders of today bear no resemblance to the homogenous population base of the modern state (Smith et al., 1998, p. 65). In addition the topography does not point in the direction of cooperation and dependencies – rather the opposite. For several hundred years now, Russia has played a central role in the Caucasus, both as a conqueror and a security provider against the southern powers. After

20 Russia and the CIS Region

the Russian revolution, the three Caucasus states were incorporated as one republic in the newly created USSR. The three states that proclaimed their independence in 1991 have suffered greatly from the borders created by Stalin precisely in order to keep the three political entities weak. Reasons for conflict abound in the region, and even before the dissolution of the USSR, several regional entities proclaimed their independence, followed by civil or interstate wars. The fact that there were several other regional powers interested in the Caucasus did not alleviate the problems, but quite the contrary. In the conflict over Nagorno-Karabakh that began in 1990 Turkey immediately sided with Azerbaijan, while Russia largely supported Armenia. Azerbaijan also has a conflict with Iran caused by the fact that the majority of Azeris in the world live in northern Iran. The conflict was a result of Armenian demands that the enclave of Nagorno-Karabakh within Azerbaijan (where the majority were Armenians) should be reunited with Armenia.4 The war that followed resulted in heavy casualties, and about one million inhabitants were relocated as a result. Armenia opened a corridor to the enclave before Russia and Kazakhstan managed to negotiate an armistice. Since then, the enclave has proclaimed its independence. International mediators have managed to bring the two states to the negotiating table but so far there have been no tangible results. Russian support of the Armenian side has of course strained Russian relations with Azerbaijan. In his first years in the Kremlin, Putin tried to create better relations with Azerbaijan. Strange as it may sound, Azerbaijan supported the Russian anti-terrorist effort in Chechnya. One major explanation for this is the need of the two to come to an agreement over the Caspian Sea (see below). From 2004, with a new Azeri president, relations with the US, the EU and NATO have improved and Russia has only occasionally managed to improve the relationship (for example in the aftermath of Western criticism of Azeri elections in 2005). Armenia is Russia’s main ally in the Caucasus, and military relations have been intense and close. Since 1996, there has been a Russian military base in Armenia and since 2001 a joint army group. Russia has an agreement for the base until 2025. Armenia has been locked between the two hostile states of Azerbaijan and Turkey and found support only from Russia and Iran. Russian capital has bought virtually the entire Armenian energy sector and the Armenians have been heavily dependent on Russian gas transported through Georgia. Because of its isolated situation, Armenia has become almost entirely dependent on Russian deliveries through Georgia. Luckily for Armenia, Georgia has not taken advantage of the situation and made matters worse for the Armenians. In Georgia the separatist problem has been the most difficult issue. A short civil war in South Ossetia left the region under control of South Ossetian leaders, supported by North Ossetians (in Russia) and by Russia itself. A much

Bertil Nygren 21

more difficult civil war followed in Abkhazia, where many Georgian casualties and many more refugees to this day poison the environment.5 The situation in Abkhazia has never really stabilised and, when the Russian–Georgian war erupted over South Ossetia, it was somewhat of a surprise to many observers since Abkhazia was a much more difficult problem. The very fact that both South Ossetia and Abkhazia border Russia and that many of their citizens have acquired Russian passports in the mid-2000s suggests the gravity of the problem. When Saakashvili entered the scene in late 2003, he advocated the unification of all of Georgia, a call that functioned as a war warning among separatists. Russian support for the separatist governments and their demands increased, and when Georgian forces shelled Tskhinvali the Russian government answered with a full-scale attack on all Georgian forces throughout Georgia. The result of the short war was the proclamation of independence and the recognition of this independence for South Ossetia and Abkhazia from Russia. In the not so distant future, it is quite likely that both Georgian separatist governments will ask for inclusion in the Russian Federation. The separatist problem in Georgia and Azerbaijan was not the only problem Russia encountered in the region. Another of the issues that has haunted Putin has been Yeltsin’s promise in 1999 to evacuate the four military bases in Georgia. Russia has dragged its feet on the issue, and only in 2007 did Putin give in to the Georgian demands to close the bases. Instead, a new military base was set up in north Caucasus, on the Russian side, the base from which Russian forces invaded South Ossetia in August 2008. Another problem that persisted for several years was the fact that Chechen rebels operated across the Russian–Georgian border; Russia accused Georgia of assisting Chechen rebels and in the fall of 2002, there was a real warscare, when Russia threatened to invade Georgian territory (Nygren, 2008a, pp. 125–31). The Chechen connection was also evident in the conflicts in Abkhazia and South Ossetia. Today, the situation in Chechnya is fairly stabilised, but the future of the Georgian state is still an open question.

The Central Asian regional sub-complex The Central Asian subregional security complex is relatively new for Russia, and the sub-complex has existed only for the last century or so. Before that, in the Middle Ages, the region with its basically nomadic population was invaded by Mongols, Persians and Turks several times. There have also been many conflicts among the nomadic populations, the most northern of which have occasionally sought support from Russia. Russian economic interests brought the region into the Russian sphere of interest, including militarily, by the late nineteenth century. When the USSR was created in 1922, Central Asia still had a decade of insurgencies ahead, and only in the 1930s did the present five Central Asian states become Soviet republics. Central Asia has a total population of some 50 million, is very poor and with

22 Russia and the CIS Region

a dominant population of Turkish and Persian decent. The elite structures from the Communist era have largely survived in Central Asia, and all states are more or less dictatorial although in democratic attire. After the breakup of the USSR, Western interests in Central Asia were first and foremost directed towards the energy field, notably oil and gas in Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan, and Kazakhstan. Russia was unable or unwilling to do very much in Central Asia, and nation-building in Central Asia itself created some conflicts over the Russian minorities in these states. Other states, especially the US and China, did not hesitate to engage in the energy sector, as did Iran and Turkey, the traditional powers in the region. Russian relations with the five Central Asian states in the Yeltsin years differed: relations with Kazakhstan were basically positive and those with Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan were essentially driven by the security needs of the two, with Russia as the security provider. Relations with Uzbekistan were at times tense, and relations with Turkmenistan were close to non-existent. After the Taliban victory in Afghanistan Central Asia received somewhat more attention in Russia, which resulted in military support in Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan, and in the late 1990s support of Uzbekistan.6 Putin himself was also involved in Central Asia in order to counter the already established Western economic influence in the region. With the expanded US involvement after September 11, Russian military interest in the region increased, as well, based on its geo-political and geo-economic ideational heritage. The most evident security problem in the region is Islamic fundamentalism and porous borders, which add to the general insecurity created by the weak states themselves. Afghanistan has been the focus of these security problems for the last decade since Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan, and Tajikistan all border on Afghanistan. The greatest problems have been with Tajikistan through which Islamic fighters have made numerous incursions into Central Asia. Tajikistan was also haunted by a civil war between 1992 and 1997, where government forces fought with Islamic insurgents, supported by the remaining Russian forces. Basically, it was these forces that made the frequent incursions into Tajikistan in the decade to come after the civil war, and the fact that the Fergana valley was seen as the centre of a potential Islamic republic also drew the other states bordering the Fergana valley into the conflict. Russia established a military presence in Tajikistan to stop these incursions and since 2006 Russia has had a military base there. Of the other Central Asian states, Kyrgyzstan is in the greatest need of a security provider, and for much the same reasons as Tajikistan – Islamist forces and insecure borders. When the US established an airbase in Kyrgyzstan, Russia demanded one of her own. Uzbekistan was for several years in the second half of the 1990s competing with Russia for power and influence in Central Asia, and only in 1999 did it accept Russian support for its own anti-terrorism efforts. After September 11, when the US established an airbase in Uzbekistan, relations with Russia seemed again to deteriorate.

Bertil Nygren 23

Only after the Andijon events and heavy American criticism did Uzbekistan once again turn to Russia as its basic security provider and closed the US base. Kazakhstan is the one Central Asian state to have fairly good relations to Russia without being dependent on it (Nygren, 2008a, pp. 199–200). Defence cooperation is frequent and joint military exercises abound. Kazakhstan has at times competed with Uzbekistan as the leading power in Central Asia, and there have also been some nationalist conflicts with Russia over the Russian population in northern Kazakhstan. Another feature of the Putin regime is the very evident energy interest of Russia in the region, stemming from both the reserves available in three of the Central Asian states and the very fact that transit of oil and gas to the world market has been tied to Russia alone, a result of Soviet planning. The three Central Asian states around the Caspian Sea – Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, and Turkmenistan – interact with Azerbaijan and Iran.7 Negotiations over the borders of the sea have been going on for almost two decades with no obvious solution in sight. The reason is, of course, the difficulty of distributing the energy resources under the sea and the possibility of using the seabed for transit pipelines. For many years now agreements between Russia and Kazakhstan and Azerbaijan have existed, while Turkmenistan and Iran have yet to agree with the other states involved. There are also conflicts between Turkmenistan and Azerbaijan and between Iran and Azerbaijan. Putin’s Russia has tried over the years to find some solution to the cooperation problem, but in effect has done no more than to militarise the Caspian Sea; Russia has its own interests in the energy resources of the region and aims to keep foreign influence at a minimum. This has been difficult, since several of the Central Asian states have been looking for alternative export routes for oil and gas than via Russia, which until very recently has been paying low prices to Central Asian producers and selling Central Asian hydrocarbon resources to Europe at a considerably higher price. Russia has also increased its transit capacity from Central Asian fields, and at least since 2004 has tried to establish a cartel of the gas producers, all to be exported to and via Russia. The most well-known pipeline project has been the Caspian Pipeline Consortium to export oil from Kazakhstan to the Russian Black Sea coast, in operation since 2001. Russia has also built a gas pipeline on the Black Sea seabed (the Blue Stream) to Turkey. Uzbekistan and especially Turkmenistan have had the greatest problems with alternative export routes. Talks of an underwater gas pipeline from Turkmenistan to Azerbaijan have been going on for more than a decade, but have been stalled by the border conflict of the Caspian Sea itself. At present, there are some new hopes of a gas pipeline route via Iran to Turkey, but things have also changed recently to make such a pipeline less viable. Instead, Azerbaijan has been the object of interest for Western investors and, since the mid-2000s, there has been one gas pipeline from Azerbaijan via Georgia to Erzerum in northern Turkey and an oil pipeline also via Georgia to the Turkish

24 Russia and the CIS Region

Mediterranean coast. Attempts to connect Kazakhstan to these pipelines have been successfully stopped by Russia. In 2007 Russia and Turkmenistan instead decided to increase the transit capacity and connect Uzbekistan to a gas pipeline running to Kazakhstan and Russia. Together with the 2008 deal with Turkmenistan to pay ‘European’ prices for its gas deliveries to Russia, this agreement seems safe: gas from Central Asia will also in the future be piped via Russia to Europe.8 There is no effective ‘Western’ alternative at the moment, despite lingering dreams of a Nabucco pipeline to connect also Central Asian gas fields to the Turkish gas hub.

General Russian policies in the CIS regional security complex9 What are the more general traits of Russian foreign policy in the region, its objectives and means, and if they have changed in the last decade, what are the changes? Will Medvedev’s presidency mean another change, or is ‘Putinism’ here to stay in Eurasia? Although the three subregions may suggest different answers to these questions, there are nevertheless a few characteristic features common to all three subregions and, thus, general to the CIS area. The first and most important of those is the fact that Putin did restore Russia’s voice in the region – today all other eleven CIS states have to take into account Russia’s views, and there is no longer any slack on the Russian rope with respect to foreign or Western involvement in the region. Instead of reacting, as under Yeltsin, Russia has for the last decade been initiating action. The second characteristic feature in all three subregions is Russian economic dominance, not to say hegemony. The Russian recovery after 1998 has been remarkable, and much of the capital investment in the CIS region stems from these Russian surplus sources, especially in energy and raw material investments. Russia has not been shy to use economic resources for obviously political purposes and the present Russian economic policies in the region smell of raw capitalism. A third and perhaps less obvious common characteristic of Russian foreign policy in the entire CIS area is the attempt to draw upon its traditional leading role in the region, using political, military, economic as well as cultural arguments. A fourth characteristic is Russian bilateralism in the region, despite Russian involvement in multilateral fora. The CIS as an organisation remains a fig leaf under Putin and Medvedev, and the only multilateral effort is to be found in the Collective Security Treaty Organisation (CSTO) and the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation (SCO). The differences with respect to Russian policies in the three subregions are also obvious. First of all, the European subregion is by far the most important and sensitive for Russia in political, economic, and cultural terms, today as in the past. The challenges that Russia sees from foreign powers

Bertil Nygren 25

are much more serious in this region as compared to the other two. Within this subregion Ukraine is by far the most important actor or, as Russia sees it, part of Russia itself politically, economically, historically, and culturally. The present Western orientation of Ukraine is dangerous, in Russia’s perspective. Relations with Belarus are more stable largely because of the great Belarusian dependence on Russia in almost all aspects of life. As Ukraine, Belarus is ‘almost Russia’ but without the urge to go West, and in Russia’s view there is no risk that this situation will change in the decades to come. Moldova, finally, is far less interesting to Russia than the other two states in the subregion, and the Transdniester problem is not so much a real problem to Russia but rather an instrument to keep Moldova from establishing too close relations with the West and, especially, NATO. Because of the seriousness of the conflicts in the Caucasus, this subregion has not been considered in the West as important as the European subregion. Russia’s policy in the last decade has aimed at excluding Western powers from the region, especially military powers. Successes have been few, however, which is particularly evident in the present drift of all three Caucasus states towards the EU and for two of them, Georgia and possibly also Azerbaijan, to NATO. The most Russia-friendly state, Armenia, is totally dependent on Russia today for its defence and military security, for its energy and for much of its economic situation. Azerbaijan has off and on been much less oriented towards Russia, partly because of Russian support for Armenia in the conflict over Nagorno-Karabakh. Both of these states are extremely weak and far from good models of democracy. Georgia, finally, has been the greatest headache for Yeltsin as well as for Putin and Medvedev, in part but not only because of the separatist problems in South Ossetia and Abkhazia. The country itself is extremely weak and almost a model for a failed state. The Russian blitz war in August 2008 has created a new situation with the Russian recognition of the independence of the two separatist republics: Georgia has no option but to try to reclaim the two separatist regions, but has no real clout and no effective instrument to use against Russia. The most likely future is for the two separatist regions to beg for inclusion in the Russian Federation as the ninetieth and ninety-first federal subjects. There is not much Georgia and the West can do about that, and the present hesitation in the West to support Georgia leaves this poor state on the sidelines. Central Asia, as well as the Caucasus, is slightly affected by developments in the larger Middle East security complex – Afghanistan has been the major headache in the last decade or so. With Putin and now Medvedev in the Kremlin, security in Central Asia has been a prioritised issue, and increasingly so after the US entered the region militarily after September 11. Furthermore, the subregion has become much more interesting to Russia since the steep rise in oil and gas prices, and for the last half-decade Russia has gone to great lengths to secure its production and transit ability for

26 Russia and the CIS Region

Central Asia, precisely in order to keep these states in the Russian sphere of interest. The lead that the US and China had in the region because of Russia’s relative inactivity has today been eliminated, and developments in 2007 and 2008 suggest that Russia has largely won the fight for Central Asian hydrocarbon resources. The only exception is the eastern field in Turkmenistan and Uzbekistan where the Chinese have not only invested but are about to take full advantage of the desire of the Central Asian states not to become altogether dependent for their income on Russia. With China as an importer also of Russian oil and gas in the Far East, the game might become very interesting in the decades to come. The three arenas in which Russian foreign policy is being played out in the CIS region are geopolitical, geo-economic, and geo-cultural. The geopolitical arena is dominated by the perceived competition with the US, the EU and, especially, NATO for influence in the CIS space, particularly in its western parts. In addition, there is in the south and east an obvious terrorist problem, which no longer ties Russia and the West together, but rather keeps them apart. In addition, the ‘frozen conflicts’ in Transdniester and NagornoKarabakh will most likely remain even more frozen after the Georgian war, since Russia has no real reason to alleviate the problems as long as the NATO option is open to these small states. In fact, there are reasons to believe that Putin has never really wanted these conflicts to disappear. The geo-economic arena has been dominated by energy and hydrocarbon production and transit resources. Here, it is obvious that Russia has been using the energy instrument to create dependencies far above the normal level and that Russia also has used the energy instrument in its handling of these nations. On the one hand, the most general feature of raising prices to ‘European’ levels is for every CIS member to comply with the Russian demands. On the other hand, if a choice of differentiation of prices has been asked for by the Russia-friendly states, prices have been kept at a lower level. Another typical energy instrument has been to keep the Central Asian states dependent on Russian transit of oil and gas to Western markets. In these policies, Russia has been fairly successful, and the only negative repercussions so far have been the increasing European concern of becoming too dependent on Russian energy. The geo-cultural arena has become increasingly important in the last half-decade, and in many different ways. The more general Russian argument of protecting their own (that is, ethnic Russians) living in foreign countries has had an ominous touch for many of the CIS states. The racist ethnic argument in Russia has also been used occasionally; the treatment of Georgians in Russia in 2007 and 2008 are cases in point. The treatment of illegal migrants seeking work in Russia’s big cities is another similar point. The most common Russian instrument is, however, simply to keep the kinship built up during Soviet years alive – we know each other, we know how to deal with each other and with the outside world. This cultural aspect is

Bertil Nygren 27

often mixed with anti-Western feelings, especially obvious when it comes to the reaction of many CIS leaders to Western criticism of breaches of democratic values. Here Russia is the leader among a pack of authoritarian states that see no real value in true democracy. In almost all discussions of Russia’s foreign policy behaviour in the CIS region, the underlying question is whether or not Russia is trying to establish itself as a hegemon in the region. In my view, Russia has been doing exactly that at least since 2003. The means for re-establishing Russia’s former leading role in Eurasia have varied, and after the Georgian war we see not only the energy weapon and other comparatively soft foreign policy means, but also a relapse into traditional (Russian) great power behaviour towards small neighbours. This is ominous, and the CIS leaders have once again been aware that in any type of alliance with Russia they are forced into an alliance with the hegemonic power in order not to be hurt by the same hegemon. The Russian bear hug has become much more firm, and the only type of protests we can expect from the CIS countries is that seen after the Georgian war – not to say anything, but also not to follow the example of Russia in recognising the two separatist republics.

Notes This chapter draws upon several works that the author has published in recent years, especially Nygren (2008a), Nygren (2008b), and Nygren (2009). The present chapter is a summary of the findings discussed and documented in those publications. 1. On issues of Russian identity, see Lo (2002). 2. For an extensive discussion of the role of the CIS, see the chapter by Richard Sakwa in this volume. 3. Critics of the CIS dismissed it as a dead organisation. In November 2001, a group of experts reached a consensus that the CIS had failed in all but one respect – the relatively peaceful disintegration of the Soviet Union (RFE/RL Newsline, 30 November 2001). In October 2002 these negative aspects of the CIS were particularly evident among analysts; see Nezavisimaya Gazeta, 7 October 2002, pp. 10–11. Again, in late 2005, some influential Russian analysts believed it to be high time to declare the death of the CIS (RFE/RL Newsline, 27 December 2005). 4. For a general history of the region in the Yeltsin era, see Donaldson and Nogee (2002, pp. 175ff.). For a history of the Nagorno-Karabakh war, see Khachatrian (2004). 5. For a discussion of the background to the recent conflicts, see Nygren (2008a, pp. 119–53). 6. Overviews of the history of the region can be found in Steinberger (2003) and Malashenko (1998). 7. For discussions of oil and gas in the region and their relevance to Russian policy, see Nygren (2008a, pp. 168ff.), Nygren (2008b) and Blank (2001). 8. On gas pipelines from Central Asia and Russia to the West, see Nies (2008) and Mankoff (2009). 9. For an expanded discussion of these issues, see Nygren (2008a, pp. 217–50).

28 Russia and the CIS Region

References Blank, S. (2001). ‘The United States and Central Asia’, in R. Allison and L. Jonson(eds) Central Asian Security: The New International Context. Washington, DC: Brookings Institute Press, pp. 127–51. Donaldson, Robert and Joseph Nogee (2002). The Foreign Policy of Russia: Changing Systems, Enduring Interests. New York: M. E. Sharpe. Herd, Graeme (2007). ‘Russia’s Transdniestria Policy: Means, Ends and Great Power Trajectories’, in Roger E. Kanet (ed.) Russia: Re-Emerging Great Power. Houndmills, UK: Palgrave Macmillan, pp. 81–106. Jonson, Lena (2004). Vladimir Putin and Central Asia: The Shaping of Russian Foreign Policy. London, New York: I. B. Taurus. Khachatrian, Haroutiun (2004). ‘Nagorno-Karabakh: A Decade of Frustration in Search of a Negotiated Peace’, Eurasia Insight, 12 May. Kuzio, Taras (2004). ‘Russianization of Ukrainian Security Policy’, Eurasia Daily Monitor, 24 September. Lo, Bobo (2002). Russian Foreign Policy in the Post-Soviet Era: Reality, Illusion and Mythmaking. Houndmills, Basingstoke and New York: Palgrave Macmillan. Malashenko, Aleksei (1998). ‘Turning Away from Russia: New Directions for Central Asia’, in Bruno Coppieters, Aleksei Zverev, and Dmitri Trenin (eds) Commonwealth and Independence in Post-Soviet Eurasia. London, Portland: Frank Cass, pp. 156–70. Mankoff, Jeffrey (2009). Eurasian Energy Security. New York: Council on Foreign Relations. Available at www.cfr.org/content/publications/attachments/Eurasia_CSR43. pdf (accessed on 7 July 2010). Nies, Susanne (2008). Oil and Gas Delivery to Europe: An Overview o f Existing and Planned Infrastructures. Paris: IFRI. Available at http://www.europarl.europa.eu/ document/activities/cont/200904/20090406ATT53473/20090406ATT53473EN.pdf (accessed on 7 July 2010). Nygren, Bertil (2008a). The Re-Building of Greater Russia: Putin’s Foreign Policy towards the CIS Countries. London and New York: Routledge. Nygren, Bertil (2008b). ‘Putin’s Use of Natural Gas to Reintegrate the CIS Region’, Problems of Post-Communism, vol. 55, no. 4 ( July–August), pp. 3–15. Nygren, Bertil (2009). ‘Unilateral Endeavours Challenging Governance in the Energy Sector: Russia, China, and the U.S.’, in Charlotte Wagnsson, James Sperling, and Jan Hallenberg (eds), European Security Governance: The European Union in a Westphalian World. London and New York: Routledge. Sakwa, Richard (2002). Russian Politics and Society. London and New York: Routledge, 3rd edition. Smith, Graham, Andrew Wilson, Edward Allworth, Vivian Law, and Annette Bohr (1998).Nation-Building in the Post-Soviet Borderlands: The Politics of National Identities. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Steinberger, Petra (2003). ‘“Fundamentalism” in Central Asia’, in Tom EverettHeath (ed.) Central Asia. Aspects of Transition. London: Routledge, pp. 219–43.

2 International Rivalries in Eurasia Stephen Blank

Introduction Eurasia (the Caucasus and Central Asia) has become and will remain a prime battleground between East and West. The Russo-Georgia war of 2008, the eviction of the US from its base at Manas, Kyrgyzstan, and Russia’s establishment of land, sea, and air bases in Abkhazia in early 2009 confirms this. As a result of that war Russia unilaterally abridged Georgia’s borders and then tried to get assent from its partners in the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation (SCO). To Moscow’s surprise they rejected the creation of ‘independent’ states out of Abkhazia and South Ossetia, not least because such actions threatened their own security and integrity (Blank, 2008b). At the same time President Dmitry Medvedev also strongly reiterated Russia’s claim to ‘privileged relations’; that is, an exclusive sphere of influence in both regions (Medvedev, 2008). These developments underscore Russia’s tough-minded commitment to establishing and consolidating irrevocable neocolonialist relations with CIS members as the main priority of its foreign relations. Moscow has also launched recent economic initiatives to lock up Central Asian gas, lend money to stricken CIS states during the current economic crisis, invigorate its military alliance, the Collective Security Treaty Organisation (CSTO), and generally consolidate its exclusive dominance in Eurasia. In reply the US signed charters of cooperation with Georgia and Ukraine in 2008–9 and is developing a new logistical supply line to Afghanistan through Central Asia. These initiatives showed that although it has lost a battle, Washington will not retreat from resisting Russia’s efforts to exclude the CIS from Europe. Vice-President Joseph Biden’s speech at the 2009 Munich Wehrkunde conference, reiterating US refusal to recognise Abkhazia and South Ossetia as independent states, reconfirmed that posture (Biden, 2009). Instead, both charters and actions such as placing a mission in Crimea directly challenge Moscow’s pretensions to an exclusive sphere of influence in Eurasia, especially as Russian aggressiveness, most recently 29

30

International Rivalries in Eurasia

manifested in its machinations with Kyrgyzstan, the bases in Abkhazia, and energy policies towards Ukraine and Europe where it is attempting to gain control of Ukraine’s gas, demonstrate its readiness and capability to impose gas embargoes on European countries, and act in a high-handed manner to achieve its goals. Indeed, the charter with Ukraine, according to Deputy Assistant Secretary of State David Merkel, aims to ‘break Moscow’s narrative that it has laid out markers saying that the direction has to be reversed, the direction of US involvement has to be blunted’. Furthermore, as part of that charter Ukraine stated that it welcomes the US intention to open a new ‘diplomatic presence’ in the Crimea, a clear warning shot against Russia’s bow (Maher, 2008). And from Moscow’s if not Washington’s standpoint, the supply route through Central Asia also reflects the US challenge to Russian hegemony in Central Asia, hence the move to evict the US from Manas. As these developments indicate, the rivalry for influence in Eurasia – which in the Caucasus also includes Turkey and Iran, and in Central Asia, China, Iran, India, and Pakistan, as well as NATO and EU – is fundamentally an interactive, multilateral, and dynamic process. It involves not only the great powers, the US, Russia, China, India, and the EU, but also mid-level powers like Turkey, Pakistan, and Iran, and the local governments themselves. No longer are they merely passive objects of other states’ policies as in the heyday of the Great Game. Today in a wholly unprecedented but still great game they are active subjects who strive to influence the other players and preserve their own independence and freedom of manoeuvre. Similarly international organisations like the IMF and Asian Development Bank are active in these regions. Although Russia has clearly postulated its hegemonic goals for Eurasia, not only Washington but also these other states and organisations have long been asserting their own influence in these areas. Consequently every side in this multilateral ‘game’ constantly reacts to the moves of all the other players (Weitz, 2008). Furthermore, an apparent fundamental asymmetry of interests and values exists between Washington and Moscow, making it difficult (especially in the absence of large-scale economic ties between them) to adjust their relations satisfactorily. This asymmetry extends to their instruments of strategy and power. Whereas US and Russian strategy are principally geopolitical in orientation, Russia, until quite recently was obliged to use mainly economic levers to pursue its strategy, namely its control over pipelines (Nygren, 2008a, 2008b). America, however, could use all of its tools although it clearly has failed to use them effectively or to succeed in achieving lasting strategic gains (Blank, 2007, in press, a). Thus, this competition as well as its strategic rationales for all the key players preceded the attack on the US on September 11, 2001 as the US and Russia began to compete for military influence and over energy routes by the end of the 1990s (Blank, 2001). While this chapter focuses on the four most active foreign powers in Eurasia – the US, Russia, China, and Iran – in fact all these

Stephen Blank 31

other actors also contribute to Eurasian security developments. Secondly, and this is crucial, whereas for the US Eurasia is an increasingly important region, and not just because of Afghanistan, for Russia, China, and Iran, their policies here are essential to their vital national interests, particularly their regimes’ survival. Therefore they are investing more resources and have a clearer strategic concept for the region than the US has or has had.

The US approach The US view is geostrategic and regards access to energy not just as an economic benefit, but as a strategic issue for itself and its allies. High-ranking members of the Clinton Administration stated that, even if Caspian energy will not equate to Saudi holdings, it will be a significant factor in global energy. But Caspian energy is crucial to the security and stability of the new states, which is ‘a vital American interest’ (Sestanovich, 1998; Carter and Deutch, 1999). They are a vital US interest because of the Eurasian states’ proximity to Russia, Iran, Turkey, and China. Their independence constitutes a bulwark against Russian neo-imperialism and a check upon Iranian pretensions in the Muslim world. Therefore, they argued, Washington must support these states’ independence, develop bilateral security relationships with them and the entire region, forge relationships between the Partnership for Peace and these states, and create a win–win energy policy based upon multiple pipelines so that no single power dominates the region or excludes anyone else and all these states can share equally in the energy wealth. This means breaking Russia’s monopolistic policy, multiple pipelines and creation of stable conditions that would permit the enormous foreign investments needed to bring energy on line (Sestanovich, 1998; Carter and Deutch, 1999). NATO’s and Washington’s increasing presence began in 1994–5 and aimed to counter the already visible threat of a Russian-directed coercive economic–political–military reintegration of the CIS (SherwoodRandall, 1998). Since then Washington has launched comprehensive economic, political, and military programmes to integrate Eurasia with the West in all these domains, and to preserve multiple energy pipelines and the new states’ independence and freedom from any rival’s sphere of influence (Blank, 2000). US officials viewed Eurasia as an alternative or backup to the Middle East whose volatility constantly threatened energy prices, Western economies, and great power relationships (Kemp and Harkavy, 1997; Blackwill and Stuermer, 1997, p. 2). By 1995 crucial decisions to keep Russia from monopolising the region’s energy holdings had occurred. In February 1995 the US decided to support pipelines running through Turkey and bypass both Iran and Russia to break Russia’s grip on Central Asia’s oil export, help ensure the survival of independent states in the region, and protect US corporate interests. In addition the US military began to forge constructive military relationships with Central Asian governments

32

International Rivalries in Eurasia

in 1998–2001 that facilitated the subsequent invitations to Washington to deploy bases in Central Asia (Priest, 2003; Hajjar, 2002; Clancy with Zinni and Klotz, 2004; Ricks, 2001, p. 19; Ricks and Glasser, 2001; Burghart, 2004). These remained the fundamental strategic rationales that governed US policy, along with the rhetoric (though hardly the practice) of consistent democracy promotion during President Bush’s tenure in office.

Russia’s approach Russia’s view was and is no less strategic and fundamental in nature. Essentially, for Moscow its influence must fill Eurasia lest its domestic stability comes into question. This is because of the fact that Russian opposition to liberalising reform is tied to the whole neo-imperial project of asserting Russia as a great power, primarily in the former Soviet space. Countless Russian statements since 1992 insist that Eurasia is a sphere of exclusively Russian interests that must be acknowledged as such. Otherwise Russia will be marginalised and this area will revert to the influence of alien and hostile powers that threaten Russia’s very survival.1 This, it should be noted, is exactly the same geostrategic rationale advanced by Stalin for empire in 1920 (Stalin, 1942, p. 77). Moreover, and crucially as many have argued, if Russia’s great power interests are frustrated, then it will count for nothing in world politics and its domestic regime will fall apart. As Lilia Shevtsova, among many others, points out, an aggressive foreign policy has now become the major vehicle for legitimising the continuation in power of Russia’s government (Shevtsova, 2008, p. 3). Similarly Dmitry Furman wrote in 2006, Our system’s democratic camouflage demands partnership with the West. However, the authoritarian, managed content of our system dictates the exact opposite. A safety zone for our system means a zone of political systems of the same kind of managed democracies that we are actively supporting in the CIS and, insofar as our forces allow, everywhere – in Serbia, the Middle East, even Venezuela. The Soviet Union’s policy might seem quixotic. Why spend so much money in the name of ‘proletarian internationalism’? But if you do not expand, you contract. The same could be said about our policy toward Lukashenko’s regime [in Belarus – author]. The system of managed democracy in Russia will perish if Russia is besieged on all sides by unmanaged democracies. Ultimately it will once again be a matter of survival. The West cannot fail to support the establishment of systems of the same type as the West’s, which means expanding its safety zone. We cannot fail to oppose this. Therefore the struggle inside the CIS countries is beginning to resemble the Russian– Western conflict. (Furman, 2006)

Stephen Blank 33

Likewise, over a decade ago Russian analysts wrote that, were a US led system to develop in the Caucasus forces potentially hostile to Russia would gain opportunities to control the principal transport arteries used for Russia’s imports and exports, something that, in view of the dependence of entire economic branches and regions of Russia on exports of raw materials and imports of food and other goods, could prove to be a very effective level of pressure on Russia’s leadership.2 Russian economic and thus political domination over Central Asia is also essential for the continuation of the current regime. Andrei Grozin, Head of the Department on Central Asia and Kazakhstan at Russia’s Institute for CIS countries, told Rosbalt news agency in 2005 that, For successful economic cooperation with Russia ‘in the nearest future Uzbekistan will need to give up the system of state capitalism, in particular, by “shaking” servicing of expensive ore mining and energy industries off state shoulders’. [Grozin] believes that if Gazprom obtains control over Uzbekistan’s gas transporting system, Lukoil is granted free access to exploration and extraction of oil and Russia’s expansion into the nutrition and light industry sectors of the Uzbek market takes place, then one can say that the Russian state has received what it expected from the [Russo-Uzbek treaty of November 2005] alliance treaty. (Grozin, 2005) Elsewhere Grozin admits that Russia’s neo-imperial policies are in many respects against economic logic, although they make excellent geopolitical sense from an imperial perspective. Thus he writes, The changes on the world market might force the Russian Federation to start importing uranium instead of exporting it. This may happen in the relatively near future. For this reason, the uranium of Kazakhstan and its products are of special interest for Russia, while bilateral cooperation in the atomic, space research, and other high tech applied spheres might pull all the other branches along with them. Russia does not profit financially from its relations with Kazakhstan, which have nothing to do with altruism: financial input is accepted as payment for Russia’s geopolitical interests and national security. This is a longterm strategy that allows the Republic of Kazakhstan to adjust its nearly entire scientific and technical potential to Russia: Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan are two key Central Asian states. This strategy also applies to the military–technical sphere – Moscow sells its resources for ‘allied’ prices not only to strengthen military and foreign policy contacts with Kazakhstan, but also tie it, for many years to come, to Russia’s military–industrial complex and standards. (Grozin, 2006)

34

International Rivalries in Eurasia

As long ago as 2002 Mikhail Khodorkovsky observed that the state will not relinquish control of pipelines, thereby perpetuating the excessively high costs of Russian oil and depriving Russia of markets, even as Russia has to ‘push aide’ on other producers by expanding its pipeline network to take their oil through its pipelines. Khodorkovsky also conceded that Caspian oil does compete with Russian oil, so if it enters markets before Russian energy capabilities are developed, Russia cannot then compete. Therefore it is urgent for them to restrict Central Asian production and infrastructure to mainly or even exclusively Russian channels lest their oil and gas become less competitive owing to its own high cost and wasteful monopolistic structure and dilapidated infrastructure (Khodorkovsky, 2002). Central Asia’s abundant gas deposits, if marketed abroad, could successfully compete with Russia in world markets, in particular the surging Asian markets of India, Japan, China, and South Korea for fossil fuels. This is even truer now that Turkmenistan’s gas fields have been shown to be of worldclass nature, enhancing its role as a gas producer (Pannier, 2008). Given the centrality of oil and gas to Russia’s economy, that would be a catastrophe. Thus for Moscow it is essential that Putin’s proposals for an OPEC-like cartel over natural gas dominated by Moscow be realised and that Central Asia’s efforts to build infrastructure be limited to projects that are compatible only with Russia (Blank, 2006b). Putin advocated a Russian-dominated CIS gas cartel in 2002, and this goal has subsequently driven Russian gas policy in the CIS (Blagov, 2007). In 2006 Putin reiterated this initiative, calling for an energy club at the annual SCO summit where Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad seconded his remarks (NTV, 2006). Since then, despite occasional disclaimers, Russia has steadfastly pursued such a policy, recently announcing agreement with Qatar and Iran on such a cartel (Izundu, 2008). Russia’s policies in this sphere are fundamentally tied to its control of pipelines. As Bertil Nygren wrote, Russia here employs what he calls the transit weapon, demanding the price it wants to pay for shipping Central Asian energy abroad lest that energy find no buyers because of the dearth of pipelines not controlled by Russia. Moscow’s aims are simple: gaining or regaining control (not necessarily ownership) of Central Asian energy production and pipelines to control the region’s economic and security agenda (Nygren, 2008b, p. 5). As a result of mounting Russian concern about Western and more recently Asian efforts to build pipelines from Central Asia that bypass Russia, for the last decade Moscow has been making bilateral and even trilateral deals with local governments to quash projects like the EU’s Nabucco pipeline or the American plan for a trans-Caspian gas and oil pipeline network that would also relieve Europe from dependence on a Russian monopoly of its own and Caspian basin energy (Nygren, 2008b, pp. 7–10). In dealing with those Central Asian countries that are energydeficient, like Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan, Russia has benefited from those

Stephen Blank 35

states’ inability to shape energy policy and dependence on Russian support. So while making deals to provide them with energy Russia has been able to swap energy for other economic assets they have, further compromising their economic independence. Thus while Russia provides water and electricity to them it also gains control of their electric industries, aluminium, power plants and hydropower stations (Nygren, 2008b, p. 11). Sergei Naryshkin, Medvedev’s Chief of Staff, has told audiences that the CIS has evolved from a post-soviet ‘divorce court’ for a ‘civilised divorce’ into a fast-developing entity promoting economic integration among its members. Thus, business and governmental interaction among CIS members plus the mutually supplementary nature of their economies form the groundwork for CIS future development. Though Naryshkin admits that these states hardly approach the EU’s integration and admit of widely varying levels of development, energy and transport can become the real foundations of deeper integration. In other words, Russia will use its energy assets and control over pipelines and infrastructure to drive integration by subordinating these states to its designs, not a true EU-like integration. Since Eurasian governments have long understood Russian plans and resisted them as best they could, it remains an open question whether a genuine economic zone can develop here (Blank, 2008a). Thus, Russia must diminish Central Asian states’ sovereignty to preserve its own political and economic system intact. Russia has frequently publicly asserted its view that these states are not really sovereign because they cannot fully exercise sovereignty and, pace Stalin, must either belong to the West’s or the East’s sphere of influence. For instance, on 4 April 2008 at the Bucharest summit of the NATO–Russia Council President Putin told President Bush, ‘But George don’t you understand that Ukraine is not a state.’ Putin further claimed that most of its territory was a Russian gift in the 1950s. Moreover, while western Ukraine belonged to Eastern Europe, eastern Ukraine was ‘ours’. Furthermore, if Ukraine did enter NATO Russia would then detach eastern Ukraine (and the Crimea) and graft it on to Russia. Thus Ukraine would cease to exist as a state (Socor, 2008; Kommersant, 2008; Moscow Times, 2008; Unian, 2008). Putin also said that Russia regards NATO enlargement as a threat so, if Georgia received membership, Moscow would ‘take adequate measures’ and recognise Abkhazia and South Ossetia to create a buffer between NATO and Russia (Kommersant, 2008). Therefore Russia views all foreign penetration of the Transcaspian with alarm and reacts increasingly sharply to threats real or imagined. By 1999 Russian media were saturated with articles linking NATO enlargement, the formation of the GUUAM, and NATO’s campaign in the Balkans into one chain of linked threats. For the General Staff, the message was already clear in 1998. Russia had to reply to these threats by force (FBIS SOV, 1998). As Russia’s conception of the state remains an imperial one wedded to notions of a zero-sum game and the Tsarist-derived belief that empire and

36

International Rivalries in Eurasia

state are coterminous and if there is no empire, there is no state, the resort to force is not surprising. Thus the decision for war with Chechnya was also a signal to NATO and Washington of a resolve to fight local wars, if necessary, to defend Russia’s position in the Caucasus. The General Staff’s 1998 threat assessment tied the crisis in Kosovo to that of Chechnya even before NATO actually went to war in Kosovo. For the General Staff events in these two theatres were merely two sides of the same coin. The General Staff assessment lambasted NATO in November 1998 for desiring to act unilaterally out of area and impose a new world order by bypassing the UN and OSCE. It accused NATO and specifically the US of trying to go beyond the Washington Treaty and convert NATO into an offensive military bloc that was expanding its ‘zone of responsibility’ by punitive, military means (FBIS SOV, 1998). The authors went beyond hinting at renewed fighting in Chechnya to warn NATO openly about Russia’s likely reaction to an operation against Serbia. Rather than accept a NATO-dictated isolation from European security agendas and the negating of organisations like the UN and OSCE, Russia would act since this crisis offered NATO an opportunity to project military force not just against Serbia but against Russia itself. Since NATO enlargement’s main goal was to weaken Russia’s influence in Europe and globally the following scenario was likely. ‘Once our country has coped with its difficulties, there will be a firm NATO ring around it, which will enable the West to apply effective economic, political, and possibly even military pressure on Moscow’ (FBIS SOV, 1998). Therefore Balkan events were analogues for future plans against Russian positions in the Caucasus. Bosnia-Herzegovina was Nagorno-Karabakh and Kosovo Chechnya. This strategic rationale for Russia has remained the geopolitical foundation of its approach to excluding the US from Eurasia. American activities there, the invasion of Iraq, new developments in US nuclear policy, NATO enlargement, and democracy promotion since then have only cemented that negative perception of US objectives and policies in Moscow (Blank, in press, b). But Moscow’s own domestic trajectory to ever greater authoritarianism, a system that requires enemies to retain its hold on domestic opinion, has greatly contributed to that foreign policy trend (Shlapentokh, 2006; Pei, 2006). Indeed, as Russian philosopher Sergei Gavrov writes, The threats are utopian, the probability of their implementation is negligible, but their emergence is a sign. This sign – a message to ‘the city and the world’ – surely lends itself to decoding and interpretation: we will defend from Western claims our ancient right to use our imperial (authoritarian and totalitarian) domestic socio-cultural traditions within which power does not exist to serve people but people exist to serve power. (Gavrov, 2007)

Stephen Blank 37

However, that geopolitical rivalry has now become a geoeconomic one too, revolving mainly around energy access and pipelines, and an ideological one too. In that latter aspect issues of power in Eurasia have been deliberately as well as inadvertently linked to basic questions of both sides’ views of international relations and in Russia’s case to the question of its fundamental identity.

Geoeconomics and ideological rivalry: Iran Because of the new great game’s interactive multidimensional dynamism all the players utilise all available instruments of power in pursuit of multidimensional ends. Russia, China, and Iran, have relied mainly on economic instruments in their possession, although by no means exclusively, to secure both economic and more clearly political and strategic objectives. Iran clearly considers Eurasia as essential to its vital security interests. America is not Iran’s only potential security problem in and around the Caspian. Both Russia and the ethnic Azeri minority in the north that is related to its kinsmen who rule Azerbaijan also comprise longstanding potential threats to Iranian security (Shaffer, 2007; Bhadrakumar, 2007). In the Caspian Iran confronts Russia’s still superior power even as it depends upon Russian diplomatic and military support. Although it seeks to be a major regional power, it cannot challenge Russia with impunity without provoking a strong response. In 2001 Iran attacked Azeri oil exploration vessels in the Caspian. Since then Iran has witnessed a huge reinforcement of Russia’s Caspian flotilla in 2002 and then Russian efforts to declare the Caspian its mare nostrum (our sea), that is, one closed to non-littoral states and an overall ground and air buildup of Russian forces in the Caspian region. Since then Iran has refrained from challenging Russia and has pursued its own ostpoliltik aiming to co-opt Russia to its side in its confrontation with the US. That policy rules out any challenge to Russia in Eurasia. Rather Iran seeks broader cooperation with Russia on nuclear issues, on a gas cartel and on all security issues in the CIS, including membership in the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation (Kolesnikov, 2006; Novosti, 2009). Iran also faces ethnic unrest in Balochistan and with its own Azeri population has long coloured its relationship to Azerbaijan. Iran has been able to restrain Azerbaijan by the ever-present threats of its conventional arsenal and possible support for anti-regime elements within Azerbaijan, two key elements of its overall policies in Eurasia. Indeed, Azerbaijan recently reiterated its opposition to any ‘coloured revolution’ in Iran (FBIS SOV, 2009). Nonetheless the US remains Iran’s chief concern and, therefore, Iran is preoccupied with keeping US air bases out of Eurasia. Iran comprises three formidable potential threats to its Caspian neighbours to influence their decision-making: conventional (and potentially nuclear) military threats, support for insurgents and terrorists throughout the Caucasus

38

International Rivalries in Eurasia

and Central Asia, and the use of energy, both in terms of Iran’s ability or willingness to sell or buy energy from its Caspian neighbours. Iran has integrated these instruments of power in original combinations to wage an increasingly visible strategy towards CIS governments. Thus it has not been shy about threatening Azerbaijan about hosting bases (Ismailzadeh, 2007). Often these threats are not subtle, as in the case of Iran’s manoeuvres in 2003 on its northwest border opposite Azerbaijan, which massed large numbers of troops there and sought to dissuade Baku from support for Washington against it (Ismailzadeh, 2007, p. 96). Iran’s threats have often succeeded in their purpose. Indeed, in May 2005, right after Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld left Baku on a visit widely reported to be connected with placing US bases in Azerbaijan, Baku signed a non-aggression pact with Iran barring third countries from establishing bases in their countries to strike at the other side, making its opposition to a military strike from its country quite clear (IRNA Internet Version, 2005). Similarly, in October 2006 Baku announced that sanctions against Iran for its continuing nuclear programme could negatively affect the entire region, that it would oppose sanctions, and instead supported a purely negotiated approach to the problem (Ziyadov, 2006). This pronouncement, though expected, exemplifies and reflects the obstacles to any successful, international, concerted programme of sanctions and pressures against Iran. This statement also underscores the limits of Washington’s ability to persuade governments in the Caspian basin to follow its policy preferences regarding Iranian nuclearisation. Other neighbouring governments share Baku’s appreciation of the strategic situation connected with Iranian nuclearisation, so they emulate it and Kazakhstan, confining themselves to anodyne or neutral statements that confirm Iran’s rights to a nuclear energy programme under the NonProliferation Treaty (NPT) while clearly hoping that Iran does not go nuclear and threaten them (Ayna, 2005; RFE/RL Newsline, 2006). In fact, Kazakhstan, perhaps trying to display to Europe its regional leadership in Central Asia and gain support for its campaign to chair the OSCE in 2010, tried to mediate between Iran and the EU. The potential support for local insurgents also plays no small role in local security calculations. In 2002 the US Central Command (USCENTCOM) uncovered intelligence showing that elements of Iran’s clerical army, the Pasdaran, were secretly providing training and logistic support to the al-Qaeda-affiliated Islamic Movement of Uzbekistan (Berman, 2006). Iran is also tied to support for radical religious and separatist movements in Azerbaijan and in 2005 the London Sunday Telegraph reported that Pasdaran had begun ‘secretly training Chechen rebels in sophisticated terror techniques to enable them to carry out more effective attacks against Russian forces’ (Berman, 2005, 2006,). Meanwhile there are also persisting reports of Iran’s connections to underground elements in these states, particularly in

Stephen Blank 39

Tajikistan and Azerbaijan (Berman, 2006, pp. 76–7). But beyond that there is considerable evidence that Iran is building networks or relationships among Transcaucasian, Central Asian and Afghan insurgents and terrorists that could be activated in the future against those governments, American interests, or bases there (Cohen, 2005, pp. 89–90). But Iran’s ability to influence its northern neighbours does not depend exclusively on its ability to threaten their vital interests. While its conventional weapons and deployable terrorist and insurgent groups are always on the table, Iran rarely brandishes them publicly. It suffices for everyone to know that Iran possesses and could easily employ them if necessary. But in its day-to-day conduct of relations with its neighbours Iran is evidently following a strategy borne of its counterproductive efforts to coerce Azerbaijan in 2001. Russia’s and America’s forceful riposte and the profound changes in world politics since 2001 that have placed its nuclear programme at the forefront of the global agenda have compelled Iran to refrain from new forceful gestures in the Caspian. Instead, a ‘smile offensive’ now dominates Iranian strategy, which has concentrated on instituting a comprehensive programme of high-level exchanges with its Eurasian neighbours, including Afghanistan, and the invocation of major trade, transportation, and energy deals in order to create allies for Iran there (ITAR-TASS, 2004; Vekhoturov, 2005; Uzbek Television Second Channel, 2004). These deals encompass oil, gas, and electricity because not only do some of those states depend on imports, Iran too faces an energy crisis owing to its lack of refining capacity (Zarif, 2005; Sahimi, 2005; RFE/RL Newsline, 2006). Indeed, because of the growing European and American financial and economic pressure and owing to its own subsidised economy and wasteful energy practices, Iran must now import energy and increasingly feels the domestic pressure from those sanctions (Mouwad, 2007). The need for increased energy imports will continue to grow, since Iran is moving to provide the domestic infrastructure necessary for Kazakhstan and Turkmenistan to increase their exports to it (Open Source Center, 2006; Turkmen Television First Channel, 2006; Kazinform Online, 2009). Thus, while Iran subsidises its domestic consumption, it must also import energy products from its neighbours even as it exports to states like Georgia, Azerbaijan, Tajikistan, and Armenia, which all depend on foreign energy sources, to create dependencies upon it, for example, Tajikistan’s Rogun power station (Daly, 2009; Kucera, 2006; RIA Novosti, 2006a; FBIS SOV, 2005; BBC Reporting, 2006; Mehr News Agency, 2005; Valiyev and Fahimov, 2006). Iran does so to gain influence and access to those states, retain their friendship, and prevent their gravitation to Washington’s sphere of influence. Nonetheless, the resulting paradox of Iran’s having to import energy even as it exports it underscores its weakness and dependence upon this diplomacy of smiles. The point of this strategy is to create enduring political

40

International Rivalries in Eurasia

and economic ties, so that its northern neighbours, including Turkey, will not let America deploy any form of military power to the Caspian region lest they lose valuable political and economic ties with Iran. Indeed, Iran has shown that, where its trading partner is more dependent than it is upon trade, it is perfectly willing to use it as a weapon to punish failure to support it on the nuclear issue (Iran, 2005). Similarly, if Iran is sanctioned, they could also then be affected (Ziyadov, 2006; RIA Novosti, 2006b). Iranian governments have thus spared no effort to augment the political and economic ties binding it to Eurasia using all the economic levers at its disposal as well as the promise of support for political objectives, such as hinting to Azerbaijan that it might support its cause against Armenia in Nagorno-Karabakh and expand defence cooperation with it and saying similar things to Armenia (BBC Reporting, 2006; Abbasov, 2004; Regmun.ru, 2006). Tehran views Iran’s overall strategy in Eurasia as ensuring the promotion of its most vital interests. Unlike America, Iran does not have the luxury of leaving this field to other players.

Geoeconomics and ideological rivalry: China China’s Central Asian policies also connect to its vital interests. Central Asia’s proximity to China leads Beijing and Chinese analysts to view Central Asian policy and security essentially as an outward projection of the PRC’s internal security agenda (Blank, 2003; Niquet, 2006; Zhao, 2007). Here foreign policy aims to overcome internal security threats either to the regime’s stability or China’s integrity. Therefore, Chinese analysts tend to believe these problems and threats can be overcome by wise action on China’s and other great powers’ part. In this context wise action means providing opportunities for both China’s domestic economic growth and the constriction of Western military and political influence in Central Asia (Hawkins and Lowe, 2006). Such constriction is necessary because Chinese analysts believe that Muslim minority movements among the Uyghur population in Xinjiang cannot succeed without foreign assistance, hence any possibility of such assistance must be suppressed (Zhao, 2007). Thus China’s Central Asian policies reflect many of the considerations that drive its overall foreign policy and derive from its perception of domestic security. A central motive is to forestall the possibility of internal threats to China’s stability and integrity from arising in its borderlands.3 This is particularly important given Xinjiang’s history as the object of Russian and Soviet imperialism. Consequently China’s Central Asian policy possesses both external and internal functions. Since unrest in Xinjiang and Tibet are not far behind Taiwan as potential threats to either China’s stability or its integrity foreign policy must forestall those threats and create auspicious conditions for China’s continuing development, the basis of its power abroad.

Stephen Blank 41

Careful analysis shows that China’s ‘peripheral policy’ towards Central Asia links overall domestic and foreign policy strategy (Zhao, 1999, 2004). Analysts like Wu Xinbo confirm the linkage between domestic and foreign policy when they argue that ‘China is still a country whose real interests lie mainly within its boundaries, and to a lesser extent, the Asia–Pacific region, where developments may have a direct impact on the country’s national interests’ (Wu, 2004). Similarly Western analysts confirm that despite Chinese foreign policy’s new confidence vis-à-vis Asia and the world more broadly, its primary purpose remains the defence of the regime’s internal security (Blank, 2003; Niquet, 2006; Wu, 1998; Gill, 2007). Therefore what Chinese analysts call an ‘internationalization of domestic security and domestication of international security’ is discernible in China’s Central Asian policy (Xiangqing, 2005). Several analysts have also noted that China’s regional strategies for Asia are the core of its grand strategy. The ideas and practices found in Beijing’s Central Asian strategy and policy reflect the core imperatives of its overall grand strategy and combine together all the instruments of its policy, diplomatic, economic, and military. This fact reinforces the seamless quality of Chinese perceptions about domestic and foreign security so that beyond maintaining a working relationship with all the key Asian actors, China’s second major objective here is to prevent a ‘containment coalition led by any combination of the great powers from emerging’ (Zhong and Tang, 2005). Such a coalition inherently challenges both domestic and foreign security. Despite unprecedented confidence about the nature of the contemporary security environment and of China’s role within it, China’s foreign and defence policies still operate under a leadership consensus that perceives China or at least its system of rule to remain in some sense fundamentally insecure and at risk (Craig, 2007; Yuan, 1999; Wang, 1999). In particular, most analysts believe that Beijing perceives grave internal and foreign threats in Xinjiang (Starr, 2004; Blank, 2003; Fuller and Starr, 2003)4 and this sense of operating under risk is still officially traceable to American power and influence (Kahn, 2005). Indeed, some Chinese analysts argue that, wherever one looks, despite the indigenous quality of many of today’s intractable security challenges behind them one finds the US, even if the American factor is not completely negative and actually constrains some challenges from erupting (Fangxiao, 2003). Thus Central Asian policy flows from the imperatives of maintaining the stability of Xinjiang, forestalling insurrections or insurgency there, preserving the stability of the current regime, and no less importantly, insulating Xinjiang from foreign influence. Those influences are twofold: on the one hand ethnic or religious influences coming from over the border to Central or South Asia (Islamist agitation), and American or other foreign military–political or ideological influence about democratisation and self-determination.

42

International Rivalries in Eurasia

Joshua Cooper Ramo has demonstrated that China’s policies towards Central Asia, particularly the development of the SCO, exemplify the process by which China hopes to build a prosperous neighbourhood under its auspices and thus shelter its exploding economic development from both internal and foreign threats. Step one for the SCO was to build the group, the first multilateral group China had started on its own. Step two: expand it to discussions of trade, economics, and energy. Step three: begin discussions on more substantive security partnerships. The SCO has gone so far as to conduct its own joint military manoeuvres in China’s Xinjiang Autonomous Region. This approach of deepening regional multilevel ties will probably be repeated in other forums, such as ASEAN+3 grouping (ASEAN plus Japan, Korea, and China) (Ramo, 2004). Neither can China allow so-called colour revolutions to flourish in Central Asia. China, like Russia, believes that these revolutions are essentially fomented or instigated from abroad, that is, America, and represent a conscious policy aiming to reduce its and Russia’s regional influence if not to threaten them with encirclement by pro-American governments (Zhao, 2007, pp. 181–2). Indeed, China reportedly thought about using force to prevent the revolution in Kyrgyzstan in 2005, and has since then sought a base in Kyrgyzstan to forestall further such outbreaks (Radyuhin, 2005). It also sought the American base at Karshi Khanabad in Uzbekistan in 2005 once the Americans were expelled from there (Mukhin, 2005). China’s subsequent warm embrace of Uzbek President Islam Karimov immediately after he conducted the Andijon massacre of innocents as well as rebels in May 2005 underscores that continuing dread of any upheaval in Central Asia. To Chinese analysts the nexus between democratic elections, colour revolutions and almost certain violent instability in Central Asia almost goes without saying, particularly given their view of this region as being uniquely susceptible to many different kinds of threat. As Dong Xiaoyuan and Su Chang wrote, If the Color Revolution proceeds in other Central Asian countries, which is very likely at present, then more elections will be seen in Central Asia, supported by the opposing forces and other forces, and the revolution may well come about through violence or riots. At least from present perspectives, the violent mode is hard to avoid. (Xiaoyuan and Chang, 2006) Since such upheavals could lead to multiple security threats, China and Russia have supported the ejection of American and democratising influence wherever possible, whether it concerns the impulse to reform or US military bases. Thus, both those governments have brought and are still bringing much pressure to bear on Kyrgyzstan to eject America from its base at Manas, only 200 miles from China.5 Russia succeeded in this quest in early 2009.

Stephen Blank 43

Colour revolutions, or the possibility of one, present China with immense problems because it cannot manage such a crisis effectively without injuring other crucial foreign policy objectives. The following analysis by Huasheng Zhao is particularly revealing. If another coloured revolution were to occur in Central Asia, it would confront China and the SCO with a difficult dilemma. China as a great power has important strategic interests in Central Asia, yet could not effectively intervene in the event of social and political turmoil. The same would be true of the SCO. Although the SCO makes security a principal concern, it would not intervene in the internal affairs of states in the region. If any dangerous situation were to arise, the SCO would confront a difficult choice. If it did not intervene, Central Asia could be destabilised, with a negative impact on the SCO, its authority, and its prestige. After the Osh disorders in Kyrgyzstan (where the Tulip Revolution began), and the Andijon incident, some argued that, since the SCO could not guarantee security, it could not be regarded as an important regional organisation. If, however, the SCO were to intervene, it would violate its basic principles and become embroiled in the political crisis. This is the challenge that the coloured revolutions pose for China and the SCO; whatever their choice, it is fraught with negative consequences (Zhao, 2007, pp. 198–9). Therefore, it is easy to see why China simultaneously seeks to enhance its multilateral connections in Central Asia through the SCO and its bilateral ones in energy and in military relations to augment its repertoire of economic–political–military means of dealing with potential security challenges in Central Asia and why it is so eager to oust America and US influence from there. Economics China seeks to ensure Xinjiang’s stability against foreign contamination by classic imperial techniques. Faithful to their Leninist origins, Chinese leaders believe that economic causes are primary causes of ethnic or nationalist identification that imperils their domestic stability. Therefore for over a decade they have invested large sums in Xinjiang and other border provinces to upgrade them and integrate them more fully into China’s exploding economy and prevent ethnic unrest. While this policy has greatly improved local living standards, it has not succeeded in quelling continuing unrest. Indeed this policy is inherently paradoxical, as some Chinese scholars recognise, because economic growth only intensifies the sense of economic disparity between native peoples and the Han Chinese whom China has, in traditional colonialist fashion, moved into Xinjiang, and fosters the rise of nationalist consciousness and even violent episodes of social unrest. China may label these outbreaks as terrorism and persuade even Washington that terrorism lies behind unrest in Xinjiang, but it knows better. Its special development plan for China’s minorities, announced for the first time separately from its overall five-year plan in 2007, allocates large sums to

44

International Rivalries in Eurasia

investment in minority regions and will create a specific control system for minorities to ‘avoid separatist activities and maintain national stability’ (Asianews.it, 2007). But to ensure Xinjiang’s economic growth, China must encourage it to trade with Central Asia. For a long time it has remained a truism for Chinese analysts of Central Asia that Xinjiang’s, China’s, and Central Asia’s economic growth are inextricably tied together. Thus in 1998 Guancheng Xing wrote, For China, a Central Asia which is capable of overcoming its economic difficulties and getting out of its economic crises has a better chance of achieving economic prosperity and political stability. China can benefit greatly from its stable and prosperous neighbouring states. Only when Central Asian states are politically stable and economically prosperous can Sino-Central Asian economic cooperation be conducted effectively and smoothly. Such economic cooperation can and will speed up economic development in the Northwest of China. It can therefore be argued that to a large extent the stability and prosperity of Northwest China is closely bound up with the stability and prosperity of Central Asia. It is, rightly, because of this consideration that China advocates and promotes active trade and economic cooperation between China and Central Asian states for common economic prosperity. (Italics in the original) (Xing, 1998) Since then this consensus has held among analysts and policymakers alike (Hawkins and Lowe, 2006). Xinjinag’s importance has grown as Central Asia’s security has become more important to world politics and as China has become a major energy importer. Consequently the same logic of economic improvement and trade as mitigating factors of instability in Xinjiang also applies to Chinese foreign policy insofar as the economic component of its ties to Central Asia are concerned. Therefore an important but under-appreciated element of China’s policies in Central Asia have been its substantial assistance to local governments to build major rail, transportation, telecommunications and other forms of infrastructure throughout Central Asia and tie them to Chinese terminals. The same holds true for major ports in the Indian Ocean like Gwadar in Pakistan that can then connect with these land-based systems through equivalent investments in and by Pakistan (Garver, 2005). China’s economic policies in Central Asia foster bilateral and multilateral ties in trade, energy, and beyond, not only for the inherent benefits that such trade and investment provide, but also to gain leverage upon weaker Central Asian governments so that they will comply with China’s demands for curtailing support to Muslim and Uyghur movements in Xinjiang lest they incur Beijing’s visible displeasure. Central Asia fully grasps and often resents China’s motives and tactics (Akimbekov, 2002; Burnashev, 2002;

Stephen Blank 45

Syroezhkin, 2002). For example, China holds Central Asian businessmen in China as ‘collateral’, that is, hostages for their governments’ good behaviour on issues pertaining to Xinjiang (Najibullah, 2004). Indeed, China’s growing presence in Kazakhstan’s energy sector – and Kazakhstan is China’s most crucial partner in Central Asia because of its energy – is clearly generating charges and counter-charges concerning the extent of China’s influence and the potential threat posed by its economic power (Stapyev, 2006). Accordingly there is evidence of Kazakh moves to restrict Chinese influence and presence in that sector (Eurasia Group, 2006). And for the same reason the EU has also expressed concern about Chinese energy moves in Central Asia (Interfax-Kazakhstan, 2006). Nevertheless Chinese analysts continue to believe that only with Chinese help can Central Asia overcome impediments to economic development. According to S. Zhaungzhi, ‘SCO members share a common border. It is unimaginable for Central Asian countries to develop their economies and maintain domestic stability without support from their neighbours’ (Zhaungzhi, 2006). Obviously, this is a traditionally neocolonialist view of supposedly backward states and their relationship to the metropole. Energy issues Energy security has become a major preoccupation for China since 2001 and possibly the most important day-to-day driver of its Central Asian policy (Zhao, 2007, pp. 144–8; 165–9). China’s drive for reliable and timely energy supplies is not only connected with sustaining its economic growth and with emancipating itself from potential US threats to the security of Chinese energy shipments in the Indian Ocean and the Chinese efforts to obtain energy assets in Central Asia or to let Central Asian states freely trade with it in energy. Consequently China’s push for Central Asian energy has only intensified since 2003 because it can rely neither on American goodwill in the Indian Ocean nor upon Russian support (Blank, 2006c). Even if most of China’s indigenous energy holdings were not in Xinjiang, the connection between it and Central Asia’s abundant energy deposits would be clear. Xinjiang’s energy holdings and proximity to Central Asian energy deposits magnify its strategic importance, heightening the importance of Central Asia and of access to its energy to Beijing. Indeed, Xinjiang is expected to replace Daqing as China’s main oil production site as it sits on 30 per cent of China’s oil reserves and 34 per cent of its natural gas reserves, and produced 100 million tons of crude oil in 2005. Xinjiang ‘is becoming a primary source of energy for the Chinese economy – [and] Xinjiang’s oil resources are vital to China’s future energy security’ (Hu, 2005; People’s Daily Online, 2005a). And Xinjiang is equally vital a corridor for China’s rising overall trade with Central Asia. Some 73 per cent of Sino-Kazakhstani trade is between Xinjiang and Kazakhstan, the key country for China’s Central Asian relationships (People’s Daily Online, 2006b). In 2004 Xinjiang’s export

46

International Rivalries in Eurasia

volume to Kazakhstan comprised over half of its total export volume, and this exploding trade clearly includes energy products. China must therefore secure reliable energy access to maintain its high level of economic growth, which is the government’s major task and basic rationale for its continuing legitimacy. Energy access is linked to Central Asian policy in many ways. Thus access to Caspian-based energy has become ‘a subset of foreign economic policy in general’ (Xu, 2006). Once it becomes essential for China to gain reliable access to Central Asian energy, mainly Kazakhstan’s oil and gas and Turkmenistan’s gas, it becomes necessary to tighten security in Xinjiang lest pipelines that must traverse it to reach the interior and coast be sabotaged and energy supplies imperilled. As David Bachman observes, The logical consequence of increased dependence on oil originating in Kazakhstan is tightened security in Xinjiang, as well as the perception that China’s security interests extend well beyond the Chinese border into Kazakhstan. This, in turn, may encourage a buildup of PLA forces in Xinjiang, especially along the border, in areas with large ethnic-minority populations. (Bachman, 2004) China’s quest for Caspian energy has duly begun to take off. In December 2005 the Atasu–Alashankou oil pipeline from Kazakhstan to China was opened. Not only is this the first such pipeline, it also increased Kazakhstan’s and China’s leverage vis-à-vis Russia. The impending opening of this pipeline already led Rosneft to apply to start shipping 1.2 million tons of oil through this pipeline in 2006, a figure that may grow over time given Russian interests in dominating Kazakh energy economies, the availability of this pipeline, and China’s need for energy (Interfax, 2005). Since then China has engaged in serious discussions with other Central Asian states about new pipelines, suggesting that the existing one will be part of a network that might ultimately also connect Russian suppliers to China as well as Central Asian ones (RIA Novosti, 2006c). In 2006 China announced plans to construct a parallel gas pipeline from Kazakhstan to China. This pipeline would obviously bring Kazakh gas to China, but evidently a link could be built to allow Turkmen and Uzbek gas to meet up with it (China Daily, 2006). Thus China also began negotiations with both Uzbekistan and Turkmenistan for the exploration of gas and construction of pipelines from them that could conceivably connect to the forthcoming Kazakh–China gas pipeline (Alexander’s Gas & Oil, 2007). Also in 2006 China agreed to conduct explorations and feasibility studies for a gas pipeline that it would build to bring Turkmen gas to it starting in 2009. Then in November 2006 China and Turkey agreed to conduct explorations at the newly discovered gas field at Iolatan that Turkmen President Niyazov

Stephen Blank 47

estimated as holding 7 trillion CM of natural gas (Blank, 2006a; Alexander’s Gas & Oil, 2006; McDermott, 2005; Starr, 2007). At the same time, a pipeline or multiple pipelines to China would give Kazakhstan greater incentives (which China clearly wants) to desist from helping the Islamic radicals along the border in Xinjiang and makes it vulnerable to Chinese displeasure if it were to support this continuing unrest in any way. Paradoxically this trade also gives Astana greater freedom of manoeuvre vis-à-vis Russia and lets it manoeuvre between Beijing and Moscow, a common tactic among Central Asian regimes. China’s successes have also galvanised Russia to seek new leverage over Chinese energy policy in Central Asia through the mechanism of the SCO. While the September 2006 offer made by Russian Premier Mikhail Fradkov to China described below is undoubtedly potentially attractive to Beijing, it could also contain a trap tying China’s future policy to Russia. Fradkov proposed that Russia and China jointly develop a series of energy projects, including nuclear energy, in Central Asia under the framework of the Shanghai Cooperation Organization by focusing on construction of a major energy corridor in Central Asia including electric power transmission trunk lines and oil and natural gas pipelines from the Caspian Sea to China. (Sun, 2006) On the one hand, this proposal would conform to China’s previously stated preference that the SCO develop into a kind of coordinator of multilateral economic trade and regional development whose primary purposes is economic. However, on the other hand, multilateralising China’s energy policy contradicts the hitherto exclusively bilateral policy between China and various producers. Multilateralising it means giving Russia and other states a lever with which to interfere in that policy. Meanwhile this proposal and its background highlight the unresolved ambivalence of the SCO’s future direction as a security provider.

Conclusions These examples show the centrality of Eurasia to many of the major powers and their willingness to invest substantial resources in it to secure their interests. But in Central Asia in particular Washington has not understood the need for doing so or how to integrate its superior instruments of strategy in support of its goals. Therefore it has lost its two military bases and faces the danger of being closed out of Central Asia for failure to understand its importance or devise an appropriate strategy and back it up with requisite investments (Wishick, 2009). In the Caucasus the Russo-Georgian war of 2008 signifies Moscow’s intent to exclude America there. While the Obama

48

International Rivalries in Eurasia

Administration has initially focused on Afghanistan, it appears to have unduly neglected Central Asia, thereby repeating the mistakes of its predecessor. Yet even if America loses its footing there the rivalry among all the other actors listed above will continue and likely intensify. Few things are certain in world politics, but possibly – unfortunately, though certainly – this is one thing that is sure.

Notes 1. 2. 3. 4.

Lynch (2000) is replete with citations of such statements. Quoted in Gardner (1997), p. 117. This is the basic theme of a book by Bates Gill (2007). Yitzhak Shichor (2006) registered a dissent from this view, arguing that China actually exaggerates its presentation of the threats in Xinjiang, which it allegedly knows are nowhere near as severe as it charges. 5. Conversations with American officials, 2006.

References Abbasov, Shahin (2004). ‘Iran–Azerbaijan Relations; On a Better Footing After Khatami’s Baku Visit’, Eurasia Insight, 10 August. Akimbekov, Sultan (2002). ‘The Conflict in Afghanistan: Conditions, Problems, and Prospects’, in Boris Rumer (ed.), Central Asia: A Gathering Storm? Armonk, NY: M. E. Sharpe & Co., Inc., pp. 69–113. Alexander’s Gas & Oil (2006). ‘CNPC to Help Develop Turkmen Gas Field’, vol. XI, no. 23, 8 December. Available at www.gasandoil.com/goc/company/cnc64964.htm (accessed 6 July 2010). Alexander’s Gas & Oil (2007) ‘Turkmenistan and China Reroute Oil and Gas Export from Central Asia’, vol. XII, no. 1, 16 January. Available at www.gasandoil.com/goc/ news/ntc70342.htm (accessed 6 July 2010). Asianews.it (2007). ‘Beijing Aims to Increase its control of Ethnic Minorities’, 5 April. http://www.asianews.it/news-en/Beijing-aims-to-increase-its-control-of-ethnicminorities-8884.html (accessed 6 July 2010). Ayna (2005). ‘Baku’, in Azeri, 6 December, Foreign Broadcast Information Service Central Asia (FBIS SOV); ‘Almaty’, Interfax-Kazakhstan, in Russian, 1 October, Foreign Broadcast Information Service Central Asia (FBIS SOV). Bachman, David (2004). ‘Making Xinjiang Safe for the Han: Contradictions and Ironies of China’s Governance in the Northwest’, in Morris Rossabi (ed.), Governing China’s Multiethnic Frontiers. Seattle, WA: University of Washington Press, p. 161. BBC Reporting (2006). ‘Armenian MP Happy about Iran’s Position on Karabakh Conflict’, Yerevan, Ayots Ashkra, in Armenian, 19 July. Retrieved from BBC Reporting. Berman, Ilan (2005). Tehran Rising: Iran’s Challenge to the United States. Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield. Berman, Ilan (2006). ‘Tackling the Moscow–Tehran Connection’, Journal of International Security Affairs, no. 10, Spring, pp. 76–7. Bhadrakumar, M. K. (2007). ‘Foreign Devils in the Iranian Mountains’, Asia Times Online, 24 February. Available at http://www.atimes.com/atimes/Middle_East/ IB24Ak01.html (accessed 6 July 2010).

Stephen Blank 49 Biden, Joseph R., Vice President (2009). ‘Speech at the 45th Munich Security Conference’, 7 February. Available at http://www.whitehouse.gov/the_press_office/ RemarksbyVicePresidentBidenat45thMunichConferenceonSecurityPolicy/ (accessed 6 July 2010). Blackwill, Robert D. and Stuermer, Michael (1997). ‘Introduction’, in Robert D. Blackwill and Michael Stuermer (eds), Allies Divided: Transatlantic Policies for the Greater Middle East. Cambridge, MA: MIT University Press. Blagov, Sergei (2007). ‘Itera Suggests Reviving Zarit Consortium for Caspian Exploration’, Eurasia Daily Monitor, 14 March. Available at http://www.jamestown. org/single/?no_cache=1&tx_ttnews%5Btt_news%5D=32583 (accessed 6 July 2010). Blank, Stephen (2000). U.S. Military Engagement with Central Asia and the Transcaucasus. Carlisle Barracks, PA: Strategic Studies Institute, US Army War College. Blank, Stephen (2001). ‘A Sacred Place is Never Empty: The External Geopolitics of the TransCaspian’, in Jim Colbert (ed.), Natural Resources and National Security: Sources of Conflict & the U.S. Interest. Washington, DC: Jewish Institute of National Security Affairs, pp. 123–42. Blank, Stephen (2003). ‘Xinjiang and Chinese Security’, Global Economic Review, vol. XXXII, no. 4, pp. 121–48. Available at http://www.informaworld.com/smpp/ content~db=all~content=a787083613 (accessed 6 Jul 2010). Blank, Stephen (2006a). ‘Turkmenistan Completes China’s Triple Play in Energy’, Jamestown China Brief, vol. VI, no. 10, 10 May. Blank, Stephen (2006b). ‘Russia’s Energy Sector Hides Weaknesses Behind Powerful Façade’, Eurasia Insight, 16 May. Available at http://www.eurasianet.org/departments/ business/articles/eav051606.shtml (accessed 6 July 2010). Blank, Stephen (2006c). Russo-Chinese Energy Relations: Politics in Command. London: Global Markets Briefing. Blank, Stephen (2007). U.S. Interests in Central Asia and the Challenges to Them. Carlisle Barracks, PA: Strategic Studies Institute, US Army War College. Blank, Stephen (2008a). ‘Is Russia Forging a New CIS Strategy?’, Central Asia–Caucasus Institute Analyst, 23 July. Available at http://www.cacianalyst.org/?q=node/4916 (accessed 6 July 2010). Blank, Stephen (2008b). ‘The Shanghai Cooperation Organization and the Georgian Crisis’, China Brief, vol. VIII, no. 17, 3 September. Blank, Stephen (in press, a). ‘America and the Russo-Georgian War’, Journal of Small Wars and Insurgencies. Blank, Stephen (in press, b). ‘Cold Obstruction: The Legacy of Russo-US Relations under George W. Bush’, in Stephen J. Cimbala (ed.), The George W. Bush Defense Policy. London: Routledge. Burghart, Daniel L. (2004). ‘In the Tracks of Tammerlane: Central Asia’s Path to the 21st Century’, in Dan Burghart and Theresa Sabonis Helf (eds), In the Tracks of Tammerlane: Central Asia’s Path to the 21st Century. Washington, DC: Fort Lesley J. McNair, National Defense University, p. 16. Burnashev, Rustan (2002). ‘Regional Security in Central Asia: Military Aspects’, and Konstantin Syroezhkin, ‘Central Asia Between the Gravitational Poles of Russia and China’, both in Boris Rumer (ed.), Central Asia: A Gathering Storm? Armonk, NY: M. E. Sharpe & Co., Inc., pp. 114–68. Carter, Ashton and Deutch, John (1999). Statements in ‘Caspian Studies Program Experts Conference Report: Succession and Long-Term Stability in the Caspian Region’, Strengthening Democratic Institutions Project, John F. Kennedy School of Government. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University, pp. 10–12.

50

International Rivalries in Eurasia

China Daily (2006). 11 January. Clancy, Tom, with General Tony Zinni (Ret.) and Tony Klotz (2004). Battle Ready. New York: G. P. Putnam’s & Sons, pp. 316–23. Cohen, Ariel (2005). Eurasia in Balance: The US and the Regional Power Shift. Aldershot, UK: Ashgate Publishers. Craig, Susan L. (2007). Chinese Perceptions of Traditional and Nontraditional Security Threats. Carlisle Barracks, PA: Strategic Studies Institute, US Army War College, pp. 16–20. Daly, John C.K. (2009). ‘Iran Enters Tajik Energy Market as U.S. and Russia Idle’, UPI, 12 February. Available at http://www.upi.com/Science_News/ResourceWars/2009/02/12/Iran-enters-Tajik-energy-market-as-US-and-Russia-idle/UPI46311234467455/ (accessed 6 July 2010). Eurasia Group (2006). Central Asia Update: Economics: ‘Kazakhstan Vows to Block CITIC Deal’, Foreign Broadcast Information Service Central Asia (FBIS SOV), 17 November. Fangxiao, Dong (2003). ‘Knowing and Seeking Change’, Xiandai Guoji Guanxi (Contemporary International Relations), no. 4, 20 April, pp. 26–8. FBIS SOV (1998). Nezavisimoye Voyennoye Obozreniye, in Russian, Moscow, 6–12 November. Foreign Broadcast Information Service Central Asia (FBIS SOV), 9 November. FBIS SOV (2005). Tehran, IRNA Internet Version, in English. Foreign Broadcast Information Service Central Asia (FBIS SOV), 13 November. FBIS SOV (2006). ‘Georgia Interested in Energy Cooperation with Iran’, Alexander’s Gas & Oil Connections News & Trends: CIS/Russia, vol. XI, no. 13. Foreign Broadcast Information Service Central Asia (FBIS SOV), 7 July. FBIS SOV (2009). ‘Baku’, Yeni Mussavat, in Azeri. Foreign Broadcast Information Service Central Asia (FBIS SOV), 8 February. Foreign Broadcast Information Service China (FBIS CHI), cited in Susan L. Craig (2007). Chinese Perceptions of Traditional and Nontraditional Security Threats. Carlisle Barracks, PA: Strategic Studies Institute, US Army War College, p. 16. Fuller, Graham and Starr, Frederick (2003). The Xinjiang Problem. Washington, DC: Central Asia Caucasus Institute of Johns Hopkins University, Nitze School of Advanced International Studies. Furman, Dmitry (2006). ‘A Cold War without Words: Democratic Camouflage Keeps Russia from Properly Formulating its Real Policy in the CIS’, Moscow, Nezavisimaya Gazeta, in Russian, FBIS SOV, 27 March. Gardner, Hall (1997). Dangerous Crossroads: Europe, Russia, and the Future of NATO. Westport, CT: Praeger Publishers. Garver, John W. (2005) ‘China’s Influence in Central and South Asia: Is It Increasing?’, in David Shambaugh (ed.), Power Shift: China and Asia’s New Dynamics. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, pp. 206–9. Gavrov, Sergei (2007). ‘Is the Transition to Authoritarianism Irreversible?’, Russian Social Science Review, vol. XVIII, no. 3, May–June, pp. 22–3. Gill, Bates (2007). Rising Star: China’s New Security Diplomacy. Washington, DC: Brookings Institution Press. Grozin, Andrei (2005). Delovaya Nedelya internet Version, in Russian, FBIS SOV, Almaty, 25 November. Grozin, Andrei (2006). ‘Influence of World Centers of Power on Kazakhstan and New Geopolitical Trends in Central Asia’, Central Asia and the Caucasus, vol. 39, no. 3, p. 45. Hajjar, Sami G. (2002). U.S. Military Presence in the Gulf: Challenges and Prospects. Carlisle Barracks, PA: Strategic Studies Institute, US Army War College, pp. 19–29. Hawkins, Charles and Lowe, Robert (eds) (2006). The New Great Game: Chinese Views on Central Asia. Fort Leavenworth, KS: Foreign Military Studies Office.

Stephen Blank 51 Hu, Richard W. (2005). ‘China’s Central Asian Policy: Making Sense of the Shanghai Cooperation Organization’, in Boris Rumer (ed.), Central Asia at the End of the Transition. Armonk, NY: M. E. Sharpe & Co. Inc., p. 133. Interfax (2005). 12 October. Interfax-Kazakhstan (2006). Almaty, in Russian, FBIS SOV, 30 November. Iran (2005) ‘Iran; Tehran’s Nuclear Gamesmanship’, 2 October. Available at www.stratfor.biz (accessed 6 July 2010). IRNA Internet theVersion (2005). In English, Tehran, FBIS SOV, 16 May. Ismailzadeh, Fariz (2007). ‘Teheran Reminds Azerbaijan to Keep Distance from Washington’, Eurasia Daily Monitor, 2 March. Available at http://www.jamestown. org/single/?no_cache=1&tx_ttnews%5Btt_news%5D=32550 (accessed 6 July 2010). ITAR-TASS (2004). ‘Moscow’, in Russian, FBIS SOV, 11 June. Izundu, Uchenna (2008). ‘Russia, Iran, Qatar Move Closer to Gas Cartel with “Gas Troika”’, Oil and Gas Journal, 25 October. Available at http://www.ogj.com/index/ search.html?si=ogj+&collection=ogj&keywords=Izundu%2C+October+25%2C+200 8&x=16&y=11 (accessed 6 July 2010). Kahn, Joseph (2005) ‘China’s Leader, Ex-Rival at Side, Solidifies Power’, New York Times, 25 September, pp. A1, 10. Kazinform Online (2009). Astana, in Russian, Foreign Broadcast Information Service Central Asia (FBIS SOV), 14 February. Kemp, Geoffrey and Harkavy, Robert (1997). Strategic Geography and the Changing Middle East. Washington, DC: Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, p. xiii. Khodorkovsky, Mikhail (2002). ‘Stabilizing World Oil Markets: Russia’s Role in Global Recovery’, Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, 28 February. Available at www.ceip.org/files/events/events.asp?EventID=454 (accessed 8 July 2010). Kolesnikov, Andrei (2006). ‘Vladimir Putin Includes Iran in Sextet’, Kommersant, in Russian, Foreign Broadcast Information Service Central Asia (FBIS SOV), 16 June. Kommersant (2008). ‘Ugroza Kremlya’, 7 April; translated at Radio Free Europe Radio Liberty Newsline, 8 April. Available at http://www.kommersant.ru/daily/?date=20080407 (accessed 8 July 2010). Kucera, Joshua (2006). ‘Iran Expanding Ties with Central Asian States to Counterbalance US Geopolitical Pressure’, Eurasia Insight, 13 April. Lynch, Dov (2000). Russian Peacekeeping Strategies in the CIS: The Cases of Moldova, Georgia, and Tajikistan. New York and London: St Martin’s Press. Maher, Heather (2008). ‘U.S. and Ukraine Strengthen Ties with New Security Agreement’, Radio Free Europe Radio Liberty, 20 December. McDermott, Roger (2005). ‘Turkmenistan Explores Export Alternatives for its Natural Gas’, Eurasia Daily Monitor, 4 August. Medvedev, Dmitry (2008). ‘Interview Given by President Dmitry Medvedev to Television Channel One’, Moscow, 31 August. Available at www.un.int/russia/new/ MainRoot/.../statement310808en.htm (accessed 8 July 2010). Mehr News Agency (2005). Mehr News Agency Internet Version, Tehran, in English, FBIS SOV, 14 November. Moscow Times (2008). ‘Putin Hints at Splitting up Ukraine’, 8 April. Mouwad, Jad (2007) ‘West Adds Strains on Iran’s Lifeline’, New York Times, 13 February. Available at http://www.nytimes.com/2007/02/13/business/13energy. html (accessed 8 July 2010). Mukhin, Vladimir (2005). ‘Poslednyi brosok na Iug’, Nezavisimaya Gazeta, 8 August. Available at http://www.ng.ru/politics/2005-08-08/1_karimov.html (accessed 8 July 2010).

52

International Rivalries in Eurasia

Najibullah, Farangis (2004). ‘Kyrgyzstan: China Keeps Nationals and Business’ Collateral’, Radio Free Europe Radio Liberty, 21 July. Niquet, Valerie (2006). ‘China and Central Asia’, China Perspectives, Perspectives Chinoises, no. 67, September–October, pp. 2–10. Novosti (2009) ‘Iran Pins Hopes on Russia in its SCO Bid – Mottaki’, Novosti, 16 February. Available at http://en.rian.ru/world/20090216/120167261.html (accessed 8 July 2010). NTV (2006). In Russian, Moscow, Foreign Broadcast Information Service Central Asia (FBIS SOV), 15 June. Nygren, Bertil (2008a). The Rebuilding of Greater Russia: Putin’s Foreign Policy Towards the CIS Countries. London: Routledge. Nygren, Bertil (2008b). ‘Putin’s Use of Natural Gas to Reintegrate the CIS Region’, Problems of Post-Communism, vol. LV, no. 4, July–August, pp. 3–17. Open Source Center (2006). Eurasia Group Central Asia Update-ECONOMICS: Caspian Oil Exports to Iran to Increase’, FBIS SOV, 19 September. Pannier, Bruce (2008). ‘Independent Audit Shows Turkmen Gas Field as “WorldClass”’, Eurasia Insight, 19 October. Pei, Minxin (2006). Assertive Pragmatism: China’s Economic Rise and Its Impact on Chinese Foreign Policy, IFRI Proliferation Papers, no. 15. Paris: Institut Français des Relations Internationales, p. 17. Available at www.ifri.org (accessed 8 July 2010). People’s Daily Online (2005a). ‘Northwest China Region Becomes Bridgehead for Trade Ties with Central Asia’, People’s Daily Online, 23 September. Available at http://english.people.com.cn/200509/23/eng20050923_210367.html (accessed 8 July 2010). People’s Daily Online (2005b). ‘Xinjiang Steps up Trade with Central Asian Countries’, People’s Daily Online, 18 October. Available at http://english.people’scom. cn/200510/18/eng200051018_215052.html (accessed 8 July 2010). Priest, Dana (2003). The Mission: Waging War and Keeping Peace with America’s Military. New York: W. W. Norton Inc., pp. 99–118. Radyuhin, Vladimir (2005). ‘A Central Asian Setback’, Frontline (New Delhi), vol. XXII, no. 17, 13–26 August. Ramo, Joshua Cooper (2004). The Beijing Consensus. London: The Foreign Policy Centre, pp. 52–3. Regnum.ru (2006). ‘Iranian Ambassador in Azerbaijan: Iran Can Help in Restoring Azerbaijan’s Territorial Unity’, Regnum.ru, 23 February. RFE/RL Features (2006). ‘Tajikistan, Iran Afghanistan Sign Deal on Electric Power Line’, 21 February. RFE/RL Newsline (2006). 19 June. RIA Novosti (2006a). ‘Iran Offers Georgia Assistance in Handling Energy Crisis’, 25 January. Available at www.en.rian.ru/world/200060125/43/177307.html (accessed April 2008). RIA Novosti (2006b). ‘UN Sanctions Against Iran Could Affect S. Caucasus’, 10 March. RIA Novosti (2006c). May 31. Ricks, Thomas E. (2001). ‘An Unprecedented Coalition’, Washington Post Weekly, 1–7 October. Ricks, Thomas E. and Susan B. Glasser (2001). ‘U.S. Operated Covert Alliance with Uzbekistan’, Washington Post, 24 October, pp. A1, 24. Sahimi, Muhammad (2005). ‘Forced to Fuel’, Harvard International Review, vol. XXVI, no. 4. Available at http://hir.harvard.edu/index.php?page=article&id=1294&p= (accessed 8 July 2010).

Stephen Blank 53 Sestanovich, Stephen (1998). ‘Statement of Stephen Sestanovich, Ambassador-at-Large, Special Adviser to the Secretary of State for the New Independent States, Before the House International Relations Committee, April 30’, Turkistan Newsletter, vol. 98, no. 2, 6 May, p. 89. Shaffer, Brenda (2006). ‘The Islamic Republic of Iran; Is It Really?’, Brenda Shaffer (ed.) The Limits of Culture: Islam and Foreign Policy. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, pp. 219–40. Sherwood-Randall, Elizabeth (1998). ‘US Policy and the Caucasus’, Contemporary Caucasus Newsletter, Berkeley Program in Soviet and Post-Soviet Studies. Berkeley, CA: University of California, Berkeley, Issue 5, Spring, pp. 3–4. Shevtsova, Lilia (2008). After the Battle: What the August Conflict will Mean for Russia’s Domestic Politics. Chatham House Paper REP BN 08/02. Available at http://www. chathamhouse.org.uk/files/12224_0908rep_shevtsova.pdf (accessed 8 July 2010). Shichor, Yitzhak (2006). ‘Fact and Fiction: A Chinese Documentary on Eastern Turkestan Terrorism’, The China and Eurasia Forum Quarterly, vol. IV, no. 2, pp. 89–108. Shlapentokh, Vladimir (2006). ‘Are Today’s Authoritarian Leaders Doomed to Be Indicted When They Leave Office? The Russian and Other Post-Soviet Cases’, Communist and Post-Communist Studies, vol. XXXIX, no. 2, pp. 462–3. Socor, Vladimir (2008). ‘Moscow Makes Furious But Empty Threats to Georgia and Ukraine’, Eurasia Daily Monitor, 14 April. http://embassy.mfa.gov.ge/index. php?lang_id=ENG&sec_id=224&info_id=781 (accessed 8 July 2010). Stalin, I. V. (1942). ‘The Policy of the Soviet Government on the National Question in Russia’, Pravda, 10 October 1920, in Joseph Stalin, Marxism and the National Question: Selected Writings and Speeches. New York: International Publishers. Stapyev, Dosym (2006). ‘Chinese Syndrome’, Almaty, Liter Internet Version, in Russian, FBIS SOV, 9 November. Starr, S. Frederick (ed.) (2004). Xinjiang: China’s Muslim Borderland. Armonk, NY: M. E. Sharpe. Starr, S. Frederick (2007). Remarks, ‘Turkmenistan Signs Gas and Oil Deal with Turkish Calik Energy’, Alexander’s Gas & Oil Connection, vol. XII, no. 1, 16 January. Available at www.gasandoil.com/goc/company/cnc70307.htm (accessed 8 July 2010). Sun, Yongxiang (2006). ‘New Energy Situation in Central Asia and Consideration to Come up With Countermeasures for China’, Beijing, Guoji Maoyi, no. 10, 15 October, FBIS SOV, 21 November. Syroezhkin, Konstantin (2002). ‘Central Asia Between the Gravitational Poles of Russia and China’, all in Boris Rumer (ed.) Central Asia: A Gathering Storm? Armonk, NY: M.E. Sharpe & Co., Inc., pp. 169–207. Turkmen Television First Channel (2006). Ashgabat, in Turkmen, FBIS SOV, 9 August. Uzbek Television Second Channel (2004). In Uzbek, FBIS SOV, 18 May. Unian (2008). ‘Putin Threatens Unity of Ukraine, Georgia’, 7 April. Available at http:// cevapnedir.com/pg/blog/fraction/read/750382/putin-threatens-unity-of-ukrainegeorgia (accessed 8 July 2010). Valiyev, Alasgar and Emin Fahimov (2006). ‘Iran Might Join Major Azeri Oil PipelineEnvoy’, Azerbaijani Public TV, 16 August. Retrieved from BBC monitoring. Vekhoturov, Dmitry (2005). ‘Iran Recognizes Tajikistan as Equal Partner’, Dushanbe Avesta Website, in Russian, Foreign Broadcast Information Service Central Asia (FBIS SOV), 31 October. Wang, Fei-Ling (1999). ‘China’s Strategic Intentions and Demands: What Is New?’, in Wang Gungwu and Zheng Yongnian (eds) Reform, Legitimacy and Dilemmas: China’s Politics and Society. Singapore: Singapore University Press and World Scientific, pp. 345–66.

54

International Rivalries in Eurasia

Weitz, Richard (2008). Kazakhstan and the New International Politics of Central Asia. Washington, DC: Central Asia Caucasus Institute and the Institute for Security and Development Policy, Silk Road Paper. Wishnick, Elizabeth (2009). Russia, China, and the United States in Central Asia: Prospects for Great Power Competition and Cooperation in the Shadow of the Georgian Crisis. Carlisle Barracks, PA: Strategic Studies Institute, US Army War College, pp. 5–18. Wu, Xinbo (1998). ‘China’ in Muthiah Alagappa (ed.), Asian Security Practice: Material and Ideational Influences. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, pp. 123, 133–7. Wu, Xinbo (2004). ‘Four Contradictions Constraining China’s Foreign Policy Behavior’, in Suisheng Zhao (ed.) Chinese Foreign Policy: Pragmatism and Strategic Behavior. Armonk, NY: M. E. Sharpe & Co., p. 58. Xiangqing, Meng (2005). ‘Domestic Security and International Security will Become more Interwoven and Interdependent in the Future as China faces Growing Traditional, Nontraditional Security Threats’, Beijing, Shije Zhishi, Foreign Broadcast Information Service China (FBIS CHI), 1 June, quoted in Susan L. Craig (2007) Chinese Perceptions of Traditional and Nontraditional Security Threats. Carlisle Barracks, PA: Strategic Studies Institute, US Army War College, p. 18. Xiaoyuan, Dong and Chang, Su (2006). ‘Strategic Adjustments and Countermeasures Against Extremist Forces of Central Asian countries After 9/11’, in Charles Hawkins and Robert R. Lowe (eds) The New Great Game: Chinese Views on Central Asia. Fort Leavenworth, KS: Foreign Military Studies Office. Xing, Guancheng (1998). ‘China and Central Asia: Towards a New Relationship’, Yongjin Zhang and Rouben Azizian (eds), Ethnic Challenges Beyond Borders: Chinese and Russian Perspectives of the Central Asian Conundrum. New York: St Martin’s Press, p. 35. Xu, Yi-chong (2006). ‘China’s Energy Security’, Australian Journal of International Affairs, vol. LX, no. 2, June, p. 271. Yuan, Jing-Dong (1999). ‘Studying Chinese Security Policy: Toward an Analytic Framework’, Journal of East Asian Affairs, vol. XIII, no. 1, Spring, p. 144. Zarif, Ambassador Javad (2005). Speech of Ambassador Javad Zarif, in Wolfgang Danspeckgruber (ed.) Iran’s Security Challenges and the Region. Liechtenstein Colloquium Report I, Princeton, NJ: Liechtenstein Institute on Self-Determination, Woodrow Wilson School of Public and International Affairs, p. 30. Zhao, Huasheng (2007). ‘Central Asia in China’s Diplomacy’, in Eugene Rumer, Dmitri Trenin, and Huasheng Zhao, Central Asia: Views from Washington, Moscow, and Beijing. Armonk, NY: M. E. Sharpe Inc., pp. 137–213. Zhao, Suisheng (1999). ‘China’s Periphery Policy and Its Asian Neighbors’, Security Dialogue, vol. XXX, no. 3, pp. 335–46. Zhao, Suisheng (2004). ‘The Making of China’s Periphery Policy’, in Suisheng Zhao (ed.), Chinese Foreign Policy: Pragmatism and Strategic Behavior. Armonk, NY: M. E. Sharpe & Co. Inc., pp. 256–75. Zhaungzhi, S. (2006). Quoted in Ramakat Dwivedi, ‘China’s Central Asian Policy in Recent Times’, The China and Eurasia Forum Quarterly, vol. IV, no. 4, p. 155. Zhong, Yunling and Tang Shiping (2005). ‘China’s Regional Strategy’, in David Shambaugh (ed.) Power Shift: China and Asia’s New Dynamics. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, p. 51. Ziyadov, Taleh (2006). ‘Azerbaijan is Worried over Potential Sanctions or Military Action against Iran’, Eurasia Daily Monitor, 27 October.

3 Eurasia at the Heart of Russian Politics: Dynamics of (In)Dependence in a Complex Setting Maria Raquel Freire

Introduction This chapter looks at how Russia’s policies towards the greater Caspian Basin – specifically relations with its near neighbours in Transcaucasia and Central Asia – affect these countries’ foreign policies. This analysis focuses on the ways in which these states’ foreign policies are projected or constrained by Russia. Assuming the former Soviet space as an area of influence, Russia has been seeking to advance its interests in Eurasia, be they political, economic, sociocultural or military. However, this has not been pursued by Russia without constraints: Moscow has to deal with the policies of these countries (and other players in the area, including nongovernmental actors), with regard to their relative (in)dependence and their (mis)alignments with Moscow’s goals. It is on the basis of policies of greater proximity or distance to Russia that this chapter departs to analyse the multi-level and multi-actor cooperation/competition dynamics in the region, and the place and role of Russia in these dynamics. The chapter starts by contextualising the area in terms of actors and dynamics, deconstructing predefined regional labels that point to regional dynamics that in fact are not present, such as, for example, assumptions regarding the three very different south Caucasian states – Armenia, Azerbaijan, and Georgia – but also pertaining to the Central Asian republics – Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, Turkmenistan, and Uzbekistan. It analyses the foreign policies of Eurasian states through a particular focus on their levels of political, economic, and/or military allegiance towards Moscow. This analysis is pursued through the identification of priority goals, neighbourly and trans-regional relations, and cross-membership in regional organisations besides the malfunctioning Commonwealth of Independent States (CIS) and how these factors might signal distinct foreign policy goals. In addition, building on these regional logics of cooperation and competition, the chapter analyses the different conceptions of the national interest 55

56 Eurasia at the Heart of Russian Politics

and the place these states occupy in the international system. It does so by framing the analysis within the broader context where these interrelations take place, focusing on how these states preserve (or not) their autonomy, by not only looking at whether it is in their interest that Russia be present, but also by examining how this presence or lack thereof relates to other external players in the area – for example, China, playing a softer role; the US, in a counter-influence mode; the European Union (EU), as a normative player; and Iran, involved in power politics games. It also draws on the domestic dimensions of these countries’ policies, questioning whether their foreign policy options are an expression of clear external policy guidelines or, rather, actions mostly directed at a domestic audience, following the logic of perpetuating the power of ruling elites. Therefore, having these issues in mind and looking at the foreign policies of these states and how they refer to Russia, in a more implicit or explicit manner, the chapter aims at clarifying the concepts of dependence and independence, in a context of interdependence in these states’ relationships with the Russian Federation.

Russian foreign policy: From ideology to pragmatism Russian foreign policy in a post-Cold War context has evolved from introspection to projection, from ideology to pragmatism. Under the presidency of Boris Yeltsin Russian politics went through differentiated phases, at first more introspective regarding foreign relations and a policy of rapprochement with the West. From 1993, and after much criticism from left-wing parties, Moscow changed its alignment clearly in an attempt at reasserting Russia’s influence in its ‘near abroad’. It stated the former Soviet space as being of vital importance, along with constructive relations both to the East and West, in a multi-vectorial formula. These latter trends, initiated after Yevgeny Primakov – the Eurasianist – became Minister for Foreign Affairs in 1995 with Yeltsin’s support, were later consolidated by President Putin in the course of his two mandates (2000–8). In fact, this multi-vectorial formula gained a new dimension under the presidency of Vladimir Putin. It was accompanied by a pragmatic reading of foreign policy in Russia and by the need to match rhetoric with action, whenever necessary. The ideological weight of Soviet times was now past, and Russia had to deal with its own identity, defining itself in an increasingly interdependent international context, and affirming its power and influence in a changing international order. Along with new challenges, new opportunities came. The economic development of Russia, sustained essentially by high oil and gas prices, allowed for a self-determining stance in Moscow’s foreign policy, as well as the consolidation of its course of assertion as a great power in the international system. The main documents adopted at the beginning of Putin’s first mandate state these changes, not only in the geostrategic landscape, but also within Russia, along with the recognition

Maria Raquel Freire 57

of their implications for Russia and the redefinition of the international order – where a new Russia, a strong Russia, was under construction. Along these lines, the foreign policy concept (FPC, 2000), the military doctrine (RMD, 1993, amended in 2000), and the national security document (NSD, 2000) define the international order as multipolar, referring to the need to counter US primacy; anti-NATO rhetoric is maintained, and it becomes clear that Russia seeks recognition as a fundamental player in the international system. In fact, the foreign policy concept clearly states the potentially destabilising role of a ‘unipolar structure of the world with the economic and power domination of the United States’, identifying US involvement in areas such as the CIS as ‘undesirable’ (FPC, 2000). In addition, these documents identify new transnational threats, such as terrorism and illegal trafficking activities, and the need for a toughened response by Russia to these. And, in fact, with regard to Eurasia the fight against Islamic extremism, terrorism and energy issues are a priority (Kazantsev, 2008, p. 1073). The foreign policy of the Russian Federation follows the understanding that stability and growth at home constitute a platform for the reassertion of Russian power in the international order. ‘Pragmatic nationalism’ (Light, 2003, p. 48) thus became the guiding expression for Russian foreign policy. The authoritarian, centralised course at home matched Moscow’s actions abroad, with an intensification of discourse regarding spheres of influence, common interests, and long-term differences, such as that regarding the North Atlantic Treaty Organisation (NATO). So-called ‘managed democracy’ gave way to ‘sovereign democracy’, reflecting the new style of leadership, sustained on the minimalist understanding of democracy as equal to the holding of electoral processes, along with the introduction of the term ‘sovereign’, reinforcing the fact that there should be no outside interference in Russian affairs, both internally and in what is defined as the Russian area of influence, that is, the CIS. This is particularly so in a context where the CIS has become increasingly fragmented and the locus of differentiated power relationships, particularly the Eastern CIS, that is, Eurasia. In the words of Foreign Minister Sergei Lavrov, ‘Russian foreign policy today is such that for the first time in its history, Russia is beginning to protect its national interest by using its competitive advantages’ [mainly energy geopolitics] (RFE/RL, 21 March 2007). In a nutshell, ‘economisation’, ‘new realism’, ‘multi-vector’ policy – these were the concepts driving Russian politics (Shevtsova, 2005, p. 385). The election of Dmitry Medvedev as president of Russia on 2 March 2008 means continuity in these policy alignments (see FPC, 2008; Medvedev, 2008a, p. 8). However, the international financial crisis that peaked in the autumn of 2008 has not left Russia unscathed, and the drop in oil prices, in particular, has unveiled the fragilities of the Russian economy. This may have severe impact on the leverage Russia has been attaching to energy as a bargaining tool in Eurasia. President Medvedev, at the time of the presidential

58 Eurasia at the Heart of Russian Politics

campaign, argued for continuity in ‘Putinism’, but added a new approach towards economic issues. It was a much-needed change, expressed in a policy of diversification in investments, and on the development of other sectoral areas in order to overcome an unbalanced economic strategy. The over-dependency on energy resources left the Russian economy highly vulnerable to unexpected variations in oil and gas prices. This political move with liberal traces aims at strengthening the foundations of the Russian economy, conferring on it a solid basis, understood in the Kremlin as an essential part of an affirmative and effective foreign policy. And as the examples demonstrate, ‘the tap weapon’ and the ‘transit weapon’ might be jeopardised in such an unfavourable setting, if Russia were to lose control of prices to heavily dependent neighbours, as well as of the main supply routes to stronger competitors, as further analysed (on the tap and transit weapons, see Nygren, 2008, p. 13). The current difficult situation led President Medvedev to criticise Putin’s cabinet for its slowness in approving adequate measures to counter the current negative cycle. According to reports, the international financial crisis greatly affected Russia, ‘with the stock market falling by almost 70 percent last year, the ruble 17 percent off against the dollar and euro basket, prices for major exports down sharply and many large companies laying off staff’ (Reuters, 11 January 2009). How and when the economic upturn will happen it is still too soon to guess, but the discourse of strength and capability to overcome the current difficulties has prevailed. As President Medvedev put it, ‘I am sure that we will manage to resolve all of these difficulties and will soon put in place a modern and independent financial system able to withstand any external challenges and ensure stable solutions’ (Medvedev, 2008b). Despite criticisms, the relationship between the presidency and the government is one of collaboration, particularly in a difficult economic and financial context, where social discontent has been rising. Thus, a united political elite, maintaining the support of the military, is fundamental to assure domestic stability and, above all, order. Medvedev’s announcement in March 2009 of Russian rearmament should also be understood in this complex setting (BBC News, 2009a; see also Felgenhauer, 2008). A plan of modernisation has been under study for a number of years, and there has been pressure to adopt a revised version of the military doctrine, complying with the current state of affairs. But, when the revision of the doctrine was unofficially initiated in 1997, the prospects for accomplishing a demanding reform both in terms of financial commitments and technological requirements were meagre; in the current context this becomes even more problematic (see Angelis, 2008, pp. 589–91). However, the timing for such an announcement was appropriate for keeping the military establishment under close scrutiny by the Kremlin and preventing any chance of unrest in the face of measures they might read as insufficient both regarding concerns and expectations. In the words of Dmitry Medvedev,

Maria Raquel Freire 59

[a]nalysis of the military-political situation in the world shows that a serious conflict potential remains in some regions . . . Attempts to expand the military infrastructure of NATO close to the borders of our country are continuing. The primary task is to increase the combat readiness of our forces, first of all of our strategic nuclear forces. They must be able to carry out all the tasks necessary to ensure Russia’s security. Medvedev, 2009 As Slezneva noted: Foreign policy has to ‘serve’ domestic policy, which includes primarily the establishment of efficient security, the raising of living standards and the development of civil society. . . . Concern about internal economic and social problems is a more effective way of protecting national interests and hence of making Russia a really great country without relying on the old concept of a ‘Great Russia’. Slezneva, 2003, pp. 26–7 This is an understanding that is clear in the current formulations of Russian policies, as exemplified above. In fact, the role of political elites and their loyalty to the central governing power has always been a fundamental element in Russian history, as it still is today. Controlling dissident voices, punishing opposition movements, and closely monitoring propagandistic moves were common practice in Tsarist times and under the Soviet regime, and they are still visible in today’s Russia. In addition, the loyalty of the military is a pillar of the Russian governing structure. In fact, ‘Russia is still best understood as a network of interlocking patron–client relationships. This is one reason why post-Soviet Russia has had such difficulty in generating its own sense of civic community’ (Hosking, 2003, p. 6). The institutionalisation of the ruling vertical (centralised authority), with support from the political elite close to the president, constitutes a guarantee of political and social control. This strong government, which in exchanging freedom for security garnered ample public support, has nevertheless been facing challenges posed by civic movements and opposition groups, although they have limited means of expression and limited support (LeVine, 2008; HRW, 2009) – evidence that the elements of democratisation experienced in post-Cold War Russia have been kept under close scrutiny by the central authorities. The very much criticised presidential election of March 2008 that led Dmitry Medvedev to the country’s presidency, with reports of ‘patently unfair elections’, is such an example (Harding, 2008; RFE/RL, 3 March 2008).1 These alignments of Russian policies, highlighting centralised ruling and economic growth as drivers for stability at home and projection abroad,

60 Eurasia at the Heart of Russian Politics

have defined Russian foreign policy as multi-vectorial, while simultaneously searching for a multipolar order where the Russian Federation plays a major role. This rationale underpins Russia’s policy towards the CIS and in particular Eurasia, which is defined as a strategic area for Moscow. Therefore, and after the introspective period of the early Yeltsin years, the pragmatic Russian look at the CIS was translated into its active engagement in military operations, security cooperation, political and economic agreements and cultural accords. By the mid-1990s Russia began to consolidate its presence in the former Soviet space, a trend that gained extensive relevance throughout the presidency of Putin and that is currently pursued by Medvedev (FPC, 2008). ‘Eurasianism’ or the ‘Monroeski Doctrine’ (Kubicek, 2004, p. 208) is a demonstration of this intensity of Russian involvement in Central Asia and the South Caucasus. The pragmatic and assertive positioning of Russia in Georgia in summer 2008 and the subsequent control of Abkhazia and South Ossetia give clear indications concerning the direction Russian foreign policy is taking, matching rhetoric with action when its interests are at stake. However, this matching has not been that simple in the face of the Eurasian mosaic regarding political options, security goals, and economic orientations, rendering the area a plethora of differentiated interests very often in competition with one another. The foreign policies of these states attest to this argument, while testing the level of dependence or independence that is sought regarding Moscow.

Eurasia as an area of intersecting interests: Heterogeneity and lack of ‘regionness’ The labels ‘South Caucasus’ and ‘Central Asia’ point to an idea of regional cohesion that in practical terms has been absent. Such a regional perception, widely disseminated within the context of international organisations such as the EU and NATO, instead of allowing for the fostering of regional synergies, has rather had the perverse effect of raising tension within the South Caucasus, for example, where the EU regional approach was the object of fierce criticism at the time of the signing of the Neighbourhood Action Plans. By the time Georgia had finalised negotiations, Armenia and Azerbaijan were still struggling over the wording of the final documents, particularly with regard to the framing of the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict within each state’s document. Differences in understanding that remain at the basis of distrust and the protracted character of the conflict were extended to the final formulation of the Action Plans, delaying the process of negotiations. Nevertheless, and amid fierce criticism from Tbilisi, the EU applied the regional formula, simultaneously signing the accords with the three states, following the principle of non-differentiation (Simão and Freire, 2008, pp. 232–5).

Maria Raquel Freire 61

This regional labelling, clearly based on a geographical approach to the area, does not reflect the considerably distinct realities of each country in political, economic, and security terms, nor does it recognise long-standing or recently renewed differences between these states. It also does not reflect acquaintance with high levels of interdependence in matters related to regional conflicts, migration fluxes, ethnicity, and economic aspects, particularly energy assets and routes, as well as a long-shared past of territorial break-up and occupation. It should, however, be acknowledged that this approach has direct implications for the interplay and policy formulations of external actors towards the area, as well as in these countries’ political options (Simão and Freire, 2008, pp. 225–6). As for ‘Central Asia’, it is a heterogeneous area with rich and poor countries, large and small states, and a mixed record in political, social, economic, and security governing and development options. The triad individual/society/ state does not exist in some Central Asian states, rendering difficult the construction of models of identification, further obstructed by clashing modes of development in the region, particularly Russian and Chinese, as well as political–religious affiliations and elite power politics (Imanaliev, 2008). This chapter, thus, looks at Eurasia as a dynamic area referring to Central Asia and the South Caucasus beyond commonly narrow geographic readings, very often associated with international involvement in the area. This conceptual approach becomes clear in these states’ disparate memberships in regional organisations, different political relations with Russia, the US, and China, and distinct views regarding development policies. Despite a shared past, and the sharing of current concerns and challenges, particularly with regard to transnational terrorism and energy, it is necessary to go beyond the amorphous formula that aggregates differences without attending to them, and that as a consequence does not clarify lines of continuity and discontinuity in their interrelations as well as towards the outside. In this context, the example of the CIS is revealing. It has not managed to fulfil the aggregating role initially envisaged, with deep differences and bilateralism clearly undermining the collective spirit of the organisation. As Richard Sakwa argues elsewhere in this volume, The CIS has at most become a very loose confederation, in which centrifugal trends predominate, while the federal element became increasingly vestigial. [. . .] The region remains in the sovereignty accumulation phase of state building, and resistance to the pooling of sovereignty for any but the most basic functionalist tasks, based in part on fear of falling under the sway of the regional hegemon, has generated a dynamic tending towards disintegration and undermined even the limited impetus towards integration. This results in differentiated forms of accommodation towards Russia, in a process of selective engagement. The creation of the Collective Security

62 Eurasia at the Heart of Russian Politics

Treaty Organisation (CSTO),2 promoted by Moscow as an alternative to the dysfunctional CIS, is an example of the earlier mentioned heterogeneity. Focusing on politico-military affairs, Russia largely contributes in military and financial terms (Allison, 2004, p. 286), which is much appreciated by the member states, all of which have close relations with Moscow. However, since Uzbekistan (a central player in the area) and Turkmenistan (following its neutrality policy) are not CSTO members, prospects for its affirmation as a bonding institution fostering regional cooperation are rather limited. In addition, Russia has been promoting closer cooperation between the CSTO and the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation (SCO), which has increasingly been taking on a security role in Eurasia. Called by some the ‘NATO of the East’ (Bhadrakumar, 2007), the rationale underpinning the SCO has, however, been negative, that is, that of counterbalancing US primacy by advocating a multipolar international order. This same labelling has also, nevertheless, been applied to the CSTO, after the February 2009 agreement on the setting up of a collective rapid reaction force to combat terrorism, military aggression, and drug trafficking. President Medvedev stated that the ‘new units will not be less powerful than those of NATO’, and added that ‘the reason behind the creation of the collective forces of operative functioning is a considerable conflict potential which is accumulating in the CSTO zone’ (Medvedev, cited in Russia Today, 2009; see also RFE/RL, 4 February 2009). Russia has been promoting further rapprochement between CSTO and SCO, of which the joint military exercises are an example. Regional competition for influence, be it against an unwelcome US presence, China’s gigantic potential, or Iran’s strategic location, render Eurasia a complex web of interrelations and interdependency where Russia’s leverage is mixed. This is translated into its power of influence and finds expression in relations of more dependence or independence of these states towards Moscow. The fragmentation of the post-Soviet space has already produced a group of authoritarian states seeking Russia’s support for regime stability, countries with a firm European or Euro-Atlantic orientation, new regional powers such as Kazakhstan, and weak and divided countries unable to sustain effective sovereignty. Averre, 2008, p. 36 The next section addresses the foreign policies of the Eurasian states by identifying their main political allegiances and aggregating them according to their external positioning regarding the Russian Federation. This differentiation between the states will be pursued through the analysis of their comparative dependence on Moscow and how this dependence is reflected in the relative autonomy of these states. Based on these criteria Armenia and Tajikistan are closer to Russia, which has substantial political leverage

Maria Raquel Freire 63

over their foreign policy options. As for Azerbaijan, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Turkmenistan, and Uzbekistan, to different degrees they follow an autonomous path regarding Russia, in some cases clearly balancing Moscow’s influence and involvement. And, finally, the pro-Western Georgian state clearly rejects any Russian interference in its domestic affairs, while confronting Moscow’s discontent towards its Western-oriented foreign policy. In addition, the role of other external players cannot be neglected, in particular that of the US and China, in an area where the confluence of competing interests renders interdependence a key element for Eurasia’s stability, possibly constituting a regional cooperation driver. However, so far what in theory could prove to be a potential for cooperation has in practice revealed many limits. These dynamics are analysed in the following sections.

A relationship of dependency: Russian leverage in Eurasia Armenia and Tajikistan Armenia became independent in 1991, but remained dependent on Russia both economically and militarily. Strategic and military cooperation with Russia is understood in Yerevan as fundamental for economic development and as an assurance of security in a difficult context (MFA Armenia, 2003, p. 3). Armenia has no diplomatic relations with Azerbaijan (with the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict remaining at the top of their discord), and relations with Turkey have been difficult. Despite the signs of rapprochement starting in 2008 and talks about the normalisation of relations in the spring of 2009, the establishment of formal diplomatic relations is still a long-term process, which will be closely tied to finding a political solution to the Karabakh conflict. The two countries have agreed a framework for normalisation of relations, defining tangible progress and mutual understanding as standing at the basis of this rapprochement (BBC News, 23 April 2009). The impact this may have on finding a political solution to the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict is still to be seen, but this undoubtedly constitutes an essential step for further progress in the negotiations, with the position of Azerbaijan being weakened. In fact, Baku has expressed serious concern about this trend, understanding it as an inversion of leverage, a change in its relations with Turkey, and as diminishing its ability to pressure Armenia on the Karabakh issue. According to Azerbaijan’s Foreign Minister, Elmar Mamedyarov, ‘if the [Turkish-Armenian] border is opened before the withdrawal of Armenian troops from the occupied territories of Azerbaijan, it would run counter to Azerbaijan’s national interests’ (Reuters, 11 May 2009). Nagorno-Karabakh is an ethnically Armenian enclave within Azerbaijan, and the stage of armed confrontations between 1988 and 1994. The parties’ irreconcilable positions regarding the definition of a political status have delayed negotiations and the finding of shared understanding. Armenia has been supporting Stepanakert with economic and military assets, rendering

64 Eurasia at the Heart of Russian Politics

the secessionists’ position more inflexible, and aiming at the country’s participation in any relevant oil transportation systems that may be defined for the area. The region’s natural resources, particularly the discovery of large hydrocarbon fuel reserves and the construction of pipelines in the proximity of the area in conflict, are fundamental elements in the protracted character of the negotiations, where both parties demand economic, strategic, and political advantages from a negotiated solution, opposing interests that have been hard to reconcile (see Freire and Gomes, 2005, pp. 59–86). So, Armenia has relied essentially on Russia and Iran for support, whereas Azerbaijan has looked to Turkey as an essential ally. However, the current inversion in trends may lead to changes in the status quo, with Russia also pursuing friendly relations with Ankara. The process should be followed closely: it may end up in nothing more than a softening of strained relations; but it may also prompt deeper changes in the geopolitical configuration of the area, with implications for political realignments, but never to the point of damaging Armenian relations with its main ally, Russia. The Tajik civil war prompted Russian involvement in 1992 and has defined the relationship between Russia and Tajikistan as one of leverage on the part of the former and dependence on the part of the latter. The civil war and the discourse on terrorism were soon linked, enhancing the ‘cooperative’ relationship. This has allowed for an upgrading of Russia’s 201st motorised division (border protector and peacekeeper) to the establishment of a permanent military base in 2004 (Wilhelmsen and Flikke, 2005, p. 55). Cooperation with Russia is a priority in Tajik’s foreign policy, addressing ‘international and regional issues of current importance, [and the] evolution of integration processes in the Commonwealth space’ (MFA Tajikistan, 2007). Following this close relationship with Russia, the CIS follows naturally as a priority in the country’s foreign policy. Dushanbe pursues multifaceted engagements within this framework, both at the bilateral and multilateral levels, aiming at developing intra-institutional cooperation. Tajikistan is not endowed with rich fossil energy resources, although it is rich in water, which has been an issue of dispute in the area. It has friendly relations with China, particularly in commercial terms, grounded on support for Chinese territorial integrity. Beijing has been investing in the development of Tajikistan’s hydroelectric infrastructure, building on the water potential and the country’s capacity to export electricity. Examples include the reconstruction of the road linking Dushanbe, Khodjent and Chanak, the building of the Shar-Shar tunnel, and setting up lines of electricity transmission, such as ‘500 south–north’ and ‘Lolazor–Khatlon’ (MFA Tajikistan, 2007). This economic cooperation with China is not, however, pursued in a balancing or challenging manner regarding Russia. Moscow retains political, economic, and military leverage over Tajik’s foreign policy. At the regional level, relations with Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, and Turkmenistan are grounded on good-neighbourliness and friendship treaties

Maria Raquel Freire 65

and within the multilateral framework of the CIS and other international organisations. The Tajiks pursue economic cooperation as their main goal, although links are not much developed, particularly with Turkmenistan. In addition, Tajikistan does not consider the Uzbek authorities’ assurances on transit routes reliable enough: this adds friction to these two countries’ bilateral contacts. As for Kyrgyzstan, relations are more developed and stronger, and the two countries try to coordinate positions within international fora as a means to gaining an enhanced presence in the international system. Both countries’ hydroelectric potential resulting from abundant water resources could be further exploited, as a way of countering shortages and cuts in electricity supplies that very often affect both countries (Najibullah, 2009). In the case of Kyrgyzstan, only 10 per cent of its hydroelectric potential is currently exploited. According to traditional dealings, the ‘principle of compensation’ envisaging a mutually beneficial scheme interlinking countries with unevenly distributed energy potential – Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan are water-rich, whereas Kazakhstan, Turkmenistan, and Uzbekistan hold significant fossil energy resources of oil and gas – should apply. Following on the agreement of 1996 the five Central Asian countries agreed to ‘work out principles and order of equity participation on financing of costs for the exploitation and repair of interrepublican hydroeconomic objects’ (Chudinov, 2009). This interdependence could be exploited to the advantage of all. However, and despite the potential for cooperation and the fostering of intraregional links, non-compliance has led to tensions and to disruption in supplies, particularly acutely felt in hot dry summers and freezing winters. In a context of much uncertainty the Kyrgyz authorities decided to convert the Toktogul hydroenergetic juncture from its irrigation function to energy production. This move is causing anxiety among downstream countries, which fear that their access to water may be additionally reduced. At the meeting of the presidents of the five Central Asian states in October 2008, these issues were discussed, although without clear follow-up (see Chudinov, 2009). These are intraregional problems that Russia has been seeking to play to its advantage by enhancing cooperation, deepening involvement and prompting its physical presence. This is more so in a context of increased competition and where independent courses pursued by many of the Eurasian republics, as analysed next, render fragile Moscow’s goal of retaining leverage over an area described as of vital importance for Russian policies.

Balancing Russia: Autonomy and independence Azerbaijan, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Turkmenistan, and Uzbekistan Azerbaijan has maintained a balanced foreign policy between the West and Russia, avoiding direct dependence on either of them, drawing heavily on its energy resources and steady economic growth. It plays a central role in energy matters in the Caucasian geostrategic game, both as producer and

66 Eurasia at the Heart of Russian Politics

transit country. The Baku–Tbilisi–Ceyhan (BTC) pipeline is an example of this centrality, as well as of the independent course the country plots in its relations with Russia. Bypassing Russia, the BTC has been a focus of Russian discontent in the face of the logic of diversification that diminishes dependency on supplies from the Russian Federation, where most energy routes are concentrated. Acting as a regional leader, Azerbaijan expects not only to gain in energy terms, defining itself as a natural partner of the US and the EU, because of its geostrategic location and energy potential, but also to enhance its territorial claims regarding the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict with Armenia, despite the current effort at normalisation of relations of the latter with Turkey, as analysed above. Kazakhstan is a central player for Russia in the area, being the main oil producer and sharing a long border with Russia (7,500 kilometres). However, Kazakhstan’s number one trading partner is not Russia, but China, demonstrating a multi-vectorial foreign policy, according to Kazakh national interests. In parallel, Kazakhstan fears the growing power of China in the area, valuing cooperation with Russia in a logical way of balancing the two giants. It also enjoys good relations with Iran and cooperates on counterterrorism, nonproliferation and energy matters with the US. Washington’s investment in the non-extracting sector and support for the Kazakh OSCE Chairmanship in 2010 demonstrate the different aspects of Kazakhstan’s diversified foreign policy. According to ministerial sources the agenda of bilateral cooperation with Russia includes such key goals as cooperation in the field of transport, investments, oil and gas industry, energy, military-to-military, and social–economic cooperation (MFA Kazakhstan, 2008). Regarding the CIS framework, Kazakhstan refers to integration as proceeding at ‘different speed[s]’ (ibid.). ‘The problem is the imbalance between productivity capacity and pipeline capacity and the need for unlocking export routes for oil coming from landlocked Central Asia, mostly Kazakhstan. Accordingly, the strategy of Kazakhstan is to have a multivector pipeline system that avoids dependency on one neighbouring country’ (Rywkin, 2006, p. 200). Nevertheless, Russia plays an important role in the transit of Kazakh hydrocarbons to international markets. Energy has also allowed for rapprochement with other producer and transit countries, such as Azerbaijan (despite remaining problems over the definition of the Caspian Sea status), Georgia (as a transit country), and Turkmenistan. Kazakh participation in the BTC project, by linking Aktau to Baku, is such an example of how enlarged Caspian synergies might be enhanced. With Turkmenistan there is a shared transit interest in routes to the north and south (Turkmenistan gas up north to Russia, Ukraine, the EU, and China; and Kazakh oil down to the Persian Gulf, including Iran). With Uzbekistan the tone is more formal and relations more difficult, although the parties have agreed to a free trade arrangement in key economic sectors. However, according to ministerial sources, ‘distinctions in conceptual approaches

Maria Raquel Freire 67

concerning economic development of the countries continue to leave traces on trade and economic relations’, with restrictions to economic flows from Uzbekistan undermining better commercial ties. The rational use of water resources is often the subject of discord. The Kazakh diaspora in Uzbekistan reaches about one million and has also been a focus of friction. Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan are not on the list of Kazakhstan’s preferential partners, with the ‘energy for water’ problems at the top of the agendas. Cooperation with Tajikistan is mostly carried out within the framework of organisations such as the CIS, the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation, the Eurasian Economic Cooperation, and the CSTO. In an area where bilateral relations have primacy over collective multilateral dealings, this is a reflex of the diminished relevance of Tajikistan for Kazakh foreign policy apart from the rhetoric on regional stability. As for Kyrgyzstan, cooperation is closer, particularly in neighbouring border areas, such as the Jambyl region with Talas on the Kazakh side of the border; and Chuy and Issykul in Kyrgyzstan with the region of Almaty on Kazakh territory. Dialogue has focused mainly on the rational use of water-energy resources, with the two countries reaching a bilateral agreement on water from the Naryn-Syrdarian reservoir in exchange for oil (MFA Kazakhstan, 2008). Despite the ‘colour revolution’ of March 2005 in Kyrgyzstan, known as the ‘Tulip Revolution’, resulting in a change in power (Askar Akaev stepped down in favour of the leader of the revolution, Kurmanbek Bakiev, later elected president), this ended up being just a formal change. At the time it elicited reactions of concern in neighbouring countries regarding an eventual domino effect expanding instability, and charges of Western involvement were immediately voiced. For example, at that time Kazakhstan deepened its participation in the SCO, so as to send a counter-signal (Freire, 2009, p. 142). However, the revolution did not prompt an ideological shift; rather it meant a change in power among Kyrgyz elites with no deeper implications. Kyrgyzstan is a poor country that has been pursuing an increasingly independent foreign policy built on the acknowledgement of the benefits that diversification of relations might bring. This has been clear regarding negotiations on foreign military use of its bases. In February 2009, after a Russian interesting proposal amounting to $2.15 billion in Russian aid, Bishkek announced the shutting down of the US military base, allowing for an enhanced Russian presence. This was to a great extent the result of cooperation in the fight against terrorism, particularly following attacks by the Islamic Movement of Uzbekistan (IMU) in Kyrgyzstan in 1999 and 2000,3 eliciting cooperation at the bilateral level, as well as within multilateral frameworks, such as the CSTO and the SCO. However, following a counter-proposal from Washington that tripled the rent value for the base, the Kyrgyz authorities denounced the previous agreement and have allowed for the maintenance of US troops in the country (Barry, 2009; RFE/RL, 7 July 2009). Despite Moscow underlining this decision followed previous

68 Eurasia at the Heart of Russian Politics

concerted agreement, a senior official from the foreign ministry was quoted as stating that ‘the news that the base would be preserved was, for us, a very unpleasant surprise’ (Blomfield, 2009). In effect, this decision by the Kyrgyz authorities represents a serious blow to Russia’s effort at regaining control over the former republics, also showing how rivalry and competition remain the dominant dynamics, played hard in the post-Soviet space. Turkmenistan maintains the tradition of autocratic and centralised government and focuses on its natural resources as a means to avoid external exposure and therefore more dependency on global processes. The state subsidises fuel, water, and electricity, which are available free of charge, and keeps down the prices of bread and other staples. Therefore, as President Berdymukhammedov stated, it is not really a market economy, but more a socialist style of governing that prioritises social protection of the population, and requires the state’s control of the main strategic sectors of the national economy, including the extraction of hydrocarbons, power engineering, and transport routes (Berdymukhammedov, 2008). President Gurbanguly Berdymukhammedov has been trying to invert Saparmurat Niyazov’s inward-looking policy (Niyazov ruled the country from the end of the Soviet Union till his death in December 2006), by opening the country to regional cooperation (for example, with Azerbaijan) and to international initiatives (involving the EU and the US), along with its neighbours in the region, including tourist-related activities (for example, the Avaza tourist area). As for Russia, a friendly relationship is understood as matching Turkmenistan’s national interests. This was already recognised by the late president Niyazov, who invited Russia to invest in the country, although not in a submissive manner, as exemplified by the suspension of gas exports to Russia back in 2004 (Blagov, 2005). The project of the gas pipeline linking Turkmenistan, Kazakhstan and Russia along the eastern coast of the Caspian Sea and investment in a north–south infrastructure transport corridor are projects that are under way. Further to the east the government is developing jointly with Russia a gas pipeline from Turkmenistan to China, as well as investing in the hydrocarbon deposits of the Amudarya River. These cross-linked projects are, in the words of the president, the objective revival of the ancient ‘Silk Route’, a transit route linking East and West (Tatar-Inform News Agency, 2008). Energy policies are central to Turkmenistan’s foreign policy, and Ashgabat aims at positioning itself as the leading regional country in the promotion of ties and cooperative relations at this level. To this end, and within the UN framework, Turkmenistan advanced with the proposal to host a 2009 international conference on ‘Reliable and Stable Transit of Energy and its Role in Maintaining Sustainable Development and International Cooperation’. According to President Berdymukhammedov (2009), ‘diversification of routes is the most important component of ensuring the reliability and stability of the international energy supply system’.

Maria Raquel Freire 69

However, the most distinguishing feature of Turkmenistan is its status of neutrality (UN resolution of 12 December 1995), usually associated with a friendly posture towards its neighbours, and its affirmation as a reliable and trustworthy partner. ‘Lack of external suspicions in the political commitments enable[s] Turkmenistan [to] feel itself a reliable partner for Turkey, as a NATO member; Russia, as a member of the Collective Security Treaty Organization (CSTO); and Iran, as a member of the Non-Aligned Movement’ (Berdymukhammedov, 2008). Thus, Turkmenistan is positioning itself as a leading conflict averter in the region, a position that is often sustained at the UN and other international fora (see, for example, Tarasov, 2007). This status pleases Moscow: Turkmenistan is not part of any military blocs or alliances and it does not make its territory available for foreign military bases (Blatov, 2007). Besides their cooperation on energy issues, Russia and Turkmenistan have a strategic partnership in place, which seeks broader cooperation in differentiated sectors, underlining the cooperative atmosphere both Ashgabat and Moscow imprint on this bilateral relationship. ‘Turkmenistan’s neutral status, its foreign policy doctrine of non-affiliation with any blocs, non-acceptance of force as a means of resolving international disputes predetermine our stand with regard to the issues of peace and security’ (Berdymukhammedov, 2007). This neutrality status has also led to the decision to downgrade participation within the CIS, justified by the fact that the CIS has not come true as an effective interstate union. . . . In these circumstances the decision of Ashgabat to radically downgrade its level and status in the CIS looks logical, well-thought over and justified. Neutral Turkmenistan cannot and is not going to ‘taxi out’ further in the palings of various military–political blocs, unions and groupings in the post Soviet territory. As for the ‘formal’ participation in the organization which is deprived of the joint conceptual base, it is senseless. Dubrovin, 2005 Uzbekistan has maintained an ambivalent posture towards Russia, one of cooperation and distancing according to its own interests and their external projection. The terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001 in the US led to cooperation between the two countries on the fight against terrorism, just as happened regarding Russia and other states in the area. The terrorist activities of IMU in the country and in neighbouring Kyrgyzstan have prompted collaboration with Russia, but not to the extent of Uzbekistan’s granting security surveillance power to Russia. However, the violent repression by the Uzbek authorities of demonstrators in Andijon in 2005, which raised fierce criticism from Washington, coincided with a cooling in relations between the two. At the end of July that year, the government of Uzbekistan announced that US troops had six months to leave the country – a gesture much appreciated in Moscow. This allowed Russia to promote closer

70 Eurasia at the Heart of Russian Politics

contacts, signing accords with the Uzbek authorities on the defence industry and military-related activities, which Russia expects will enhance its leverage over the country’s policies. It seems that ‘Uzbekistan is returning to a military partnership with Russia’ (Rywkin, 2006, p. 198). However, this rapprochement has not prevented Uzbek authorities from keeping dialogue open with the US, as evidenced in the agreement reached in the spring of 2008, according to which the US were allowed a return to the Termez base, using it essentially for refuelling in the counter-terrorism efforts in Afghanistan (Reuters, 5 March 2008; BBC News, 6 March 2008). The election of Barack Obama to the presidency has allowed the imprint of a new dynamism in bilateral relations. The call for a ‘new beginning’ by President Obama was welcomed in Tashkent and soon led to an agreement regarding a new supply route through the country for the transportation of non-lethal cargo to support NATO efforts in Afghanistan, as an alternative to Pakistan’s hazardous routes (see RFE/RL, 9 June 2009). It was a demonstration that good relations with Russia do not need to jeopardise national interests, and that Uzbekistan pursues a balanced foreign policy, avoiding a return to Russia’s sphere of influence while also building on the profits arising from cooperative relations with Moscow, as well as Western states. As for its regional approach, it follows the same pragmatic line of projecting the countries’ interests. Uzbekistan is ranked as one of the largest world producers of natural gas, and following current trends in price increases to match world prices, it decided in early 2009 to increase the prices of natural gas to almost $100 per 1,000 cubic metres. This is a measure that had a heavy impact on the poor economies of Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan, countries that lack the economic conditions to assure gas deliveries to their populations at lower rates, and meaning severe cuts for household purposes (Najibullah, 2009). This may again reduce efforts at intraregional cooperation because of the ‘principle of compensation’, as discussed earlier.4

The Georgian way: Anti-Russian rhetoric sustained on Westernisation The November 2003 ‘Rose Revolution’ in Georgia was hailed as a new beginning for the country. President Eduard Shevardnadze stepped down from office, and Mikhail Saakashvili came to power with promises of a reformist course following democratic lines. Georgian foreign policy became pro-Western, seeking integration into Western institutions and implementing a reformist course in line with EU standards. However, banners in the streets of Tbilisi in 2007 stating ‘Our first primary goal is NATO’ were demonstrative of the counter-Russian drive implicit in Georgia’s path towards the West. From the early days of his presidency, Saakashvili also stated the goal of reintegrating and regaining control of the secessionist territories of

Maria Raquel Freire 71

Abkhazia and South Ossetia. In July 2006, addressing NATO in Brussels, Prime Minister Zurab Noghaideli stated that ‘one thing I can tell you for certain is that Georgia is on an irreversible path – one chosen and demanded by our people – for which I and my entire government feel a profound sense of responsibility. I would like all of you to know that our commitment to bringing this transformation to fruition is both genuine and permanent’ (Government of Georgia, 2007, p. 60). Taking stock of the outcomes of the Rose Revolution, the government understands there has been a revitalisation of the country’s commitment to democracy, with concrete steps in different areas to transform this vision into reality, including judicial reform, media and freedom of speech, elections, minority rights and decentralisation (ibid.). The transformations the country has been through have been visible, although Georgia still has a long way ahead to reach true democratic standards. Saakashvili has developed a dynamic style of government where his impatience has often proved contrary to long-term transition and democratic consolidation. Relations with Russia have since been very difficult, with Georgia becoming to Russian eyes an insubordinate state in the former Soviet space. The events of the summer of 2008 prompted a full-scale Russian intervention leading to full control of both Abkhazia and South Ossetia by Moscow in just a few days. Russia understood this as an opportunity to demonstrate its primacy in the context of intensified confrontational rhetoric, demarcating lines with regard to spheres of influence and intervention, seeking both to weaken Georgia and reinforce the policy of containing US and NATO influence in Eurasia. However, the end-result of Russia’s war did not match the Kremlin’s expectations. In fact, ‘[r]ather than being cowed into obedience, as most Western observers feared, the former republics seem to have grown even more protective of their sovereignty’ (Barry, 2009). The events in Georgia demonstrated the simultaneously assertive and defensive course of Russian foreign policy, in a reaction to an assortment of developments beyond its control and wishes. However, Russia is aware of the changing dynamics in the area, often to its dissatisfaction, and has sought support for its move within the SCO, as a way of enhancing and legitimising its demonstration of force in Georgia. Just after its military moves and before the SCO August Summit in Dushanbe, Moscow sought support from the Central Asian capitals, as well as China. However, nonconsultation of the organisation’s members prior to its actions was understood within the forum as an exclusionary move, not welcomed among its members, as well as demonstrating the concern of Russian partners within the SCO about possible Russian interference in their internal affairs. The final declaration of the Summit referred to the need for ‘the relevant parties to resolve existing problems in a peaceful way through dialogue, to make efforts for reconciliation and facilitation of negotiations’. It also stated satisfaction with the ‘six principles’ for the settlement of the conflict

72 Eurasia at the Heart of Russian Politics

in South Ossetia, approved on 12 August 2008, and ‘the role of Russia in promoting peace and cooperation in the region’ (SCO, 2008). Russian President Medvedev immediately declared that this demonstrated a ‘united position’ of the member states, and added that he expected it to ‘serve as a serious signal to those who try to turn black into white and justify this aggression [against Russia]’ (Medvedev, cited in Chan, 2008; Agence France Presse, 2008; RIA Novosti, 2008). But Medvedev’s reading seems to be over-optimistic in the face of the SCO positioning. Caution regarding issues of separatism was voiced regarding the potentially destabilising effect that the recognition of these two Caucasian republics could have on the region. This is noticeable in the fact that the final declaration of the 2008 SCO Summit (Dushanbe Declaration) did not formally include any mention of the issue, and that all SCO members reiterated their concerns, in particular China, for obvious reasons (Freire and Mendes, 2009, p. 42). In fact, ‘the SCO’s refusal to support dismemberment of a sovereign Georgia and the ensuing independence of South Ossetia and Abkhazia contradicted Russian expectations. Perhaps more importantly, this refusal also showed the limits to Russo-Chinese partnership, which, though robust, is not by any means an alliance’ (Blank, 2008, p. 8; Huang, 2008, p. 8).

Conclusion The foreign policies of the Eurasian states vary to a great degree, not only because of internal conditions, but also through external conditionalities. This chapter has analysed the interplay between these two dimensions and Russia’s role in them, whether of containment or projection. These republics’ heterogeneity reflects the need to look at the South Caucasus and Central Asia not as two amorphous, inclusive categorisations, but instead as rich in diversity, both in domestic options (the definition of national interest and how this plays out with their foreign options), regional interlinkages (including cross-membership in regional organisations), and international positioning, involving Russia, but extending to the US, Russia, and China, in particular. This analysis therefore allowed an ample reading of cooperation and competing dynamics in a complex setting. The chapter has argued that the way these states relate to Russia differs according to their more autonomous domestic and foreign policies, as well as to a cost-benefit equation regarding a deeper engagement with Russia. It should, nevertheless, be underlined that internal dynamics of preservation of authority and power centralisation are also relevant in the policy formulations of these countries, which in general have followed a trend similar to that of Russia, with the exception of Georgia. In seeking to clarify the concepts of dependence and independence, in a context of interdependence in these states’ relationships with the Russian Federation, this chapter has

Maria Raquel Freire 73

argued that the scale and scope of Moscow’s leverage in the area is an object of selective political engagement in intraregional dynamics and, towards the outside, asymmetric capability distribution and external influences that diminish Russia’s power and influence, as in the cases of Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Turkmenistan or Uzbekistan, or project its relevance, where Armenia and Tajikistan are concerned. These interlinkages are visible at the different levels of analysis: Where regional projects offer practical, identifiable security benefits – for example, cheap arms through the CSTO or confidence-building measures on joint borders with China through the SCO – they can attract the interest of Central Asian leaders. But, otherwise local leaders have given priority in their security and defence policies to building bridges bilaterally with strong states: Russia, the United States, Turkey and China. Allison, 2004, p. 482 These differences are a demonstration of the Eurasian mosaic and of the difficulty Russia has been facing in the pursuit of its interests in the area. In the words of Oleg Chernov, Deputy Secretary of the Security Council of Russia, [w]hether Central Asia develops into the ‘heart’ of Eurasia or will remain its geographical centre depends on political and economic achievements of the region’s countries and on their ability to cooperate in an efficient and mutually advantageous way in all spheres, national and regional security included. Chernov, 2004, p. 152 And certainly Russia does not want to be left aside in the process. This becomes evident in Moscow’s strengthening of relations with Kazakhstan and Turkmenistan and in its efforts at countering US and NATO influence in this enlarged region. It is also reflected in the power politics played out within the SCO, both contributing to the latter goal and to balancing a rising China. In fact, this regional involvement seems to reflect a sense of threat containment regarding Western involvement in areas defined by Russia as falling within its sphere of influence. It points to the concept of multifactor equilibrium as the pragmatic tool of promoting Russian national interests in Greater Eastern Asia (see Voskressenski, 2007, pp. 14–15). Moscow has to reformulate and readapt to changing circumstances, in order to keep leverage in an area where the intersection of competing interests has been increasing. It seems clear that Russia still holds great leverage in this area, defined in its official documents as of primary importance for its foreign policy. However, this has not been without constraints, as discussed in this chapter, with several of these republics, particularly those endowed with energy assets and pursuing a more diversified

74 Eurasia at the Heart of Russian Politics

foreign policy, seeking greater autonomy from Russia and following policy courses in instances contrary to Russian interests. This adds a new dimension to Eurasianism in Russian foreign policy, requiring innovative ways of dealing with these new balancers. This is a new reality demanding new responses from Russia.

Notes 1. Note that the Russian media avoided the issue of unfair and not free elections. 2. CSTO members include Armenia, Belarus, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, and Russia. 3. ‘The Islamist offensives in August 1999 in southern Kyrgyzstan and Dagestan, followed by the war in Chechnya, contributed to the “Islamic threat” being redefined as a threat of “international terrorism” in the National Security Concept published in February 2000 and moved to the forefront of the Russian political agenda. The events in Kyrgyzstan initiated a wave of Russian activity to promote military and security cooperation with Central Asian states’, in Jonson, 2001, p. 100. 4. For an excellent overview of energy cooperation/competition dynamics, see Nygren, 2008.

References Agence France Presse (2008). ‘Support for Russia at SCO Summit’, 29 August. Allison, Roy (2004a). ‘Strategic Reassertion in Russia’s Central Asia Policy’, International Affairs, vol. 80, no. 2, pp. 277–93. Allison, Roy (2004b). ‘Regionalism, Regional Structures and Security Management in Central Asia’, International Affairs, vol. 80, no. 3, pp. 463–83. Angelis, Francesco de (2008). ‘The Russian Military Spending: Modernization not Rearmament’, Transition Studies Review, vol. 15, no. 3, pp. 588–600. Averre, Derek (2008). ‘Russian Foreign Policy and the Global Political Environment’, Problems of Post-Communism, vol. 55, no. 5, September–October, pp. 28–39. Barry, Ellen (2009). ‘Russia’s Neighbors Resist Wooing and Bullying’, The New York Times, 2 July. Available at http://www.nytimes.com/2009/07/03/world/europe/ 03russia.html (accessed 1 February 2010). BBC News (2008). ‘US Troops Returning to Uzbek Base’, 6 March. Available at http:// news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/asia-pacific/7280538.stm (accessed 1 February 2010). BBC News (2009). ‘Turkey and Armenia Set “Roadmap”’, 23 April. Available at http:// news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/europe/8014008.stm (accessed 1 February 2010). BBC News (2009a). ‘Russia Announces Rearmament Plan’, 17 March. Available at http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/europe/7947824.stm (accessed 1 February 2010). Berdymukhammedov, Gurbanguly (2007). ‘Turkmenistan is Open to the World Today’, Statement by the President of Turkmenistan H. E. Gurbanguly Berdimuhamedov at the 62nd session of the UN General Assembly, New York, 26 September. Available at http://www.turkmenistan.ru/?page_id=4&lang_id=en&elem_id=11128&type= event&sort=date_desc (accessed 2 February 2010). Berdymukhammedov, Gurbanguly (2008). ‘Gurbanguly Berdimuhamedov: Law Should Serve People’, Interview to the President by Mikhail Pereplesnin, Turkmenistan Magazine, Ashgabat, 16 September. Available at http://www.

Maria Raquel Freire 75 turkmenistan.ru/?page_id=4&lang_id=en&elem_id=13810&type=event&sort=date_ desc (accessed 2 February 2010). Berdymukhammedov, Gurbanguly (2009). ‘The Importance of Joint Efforts’, President of Turkmenistan Gurbanguly Berdimuhamedov’s statement at the International High-Level Conference titled ‘Reliable and Stable Transit of Energy and its Role in Maintaining Sustainable Development and International Cooperation’, Ashgabat, 24 April. Available at http://www.turkmenistan.ru/?page_id=12&lang_id=en&elem_ id=14804&type=event&sort=date_desc (accessed 2 February 2010). Bhadrakumar, M. K. (2007). ‘The New “NATO of the East” Takes Shape’, Asia Times, 25 August. Available at http://www.atimes.com/atimes/Central_Asia/IH25Ag01.html (accessed 28 January 2010). Blagov, Sergei (2005) ‘Russia’s Gas Dreams’, Asia Times Online, 13 January. Available at http://www.atimes.com/atimes/Central_Asia/GA13Ag01.html (accessed 28 January 2010). Blank, Stephen (2008). ‘The Strategic Importance of Central Asia: An American View’, Parameters, vol. 38, no. 1, pp. 73–87. Blatov, Igor (2007). ‘Russian–Turkmen Relations Reached a Qualitatively New Level’, Neutral Turkmenistan, 12 June. Available at http://www.turkmenistan. ru/?page_id=4&lang_id=en&elem_id=10283&type=event&sort=date_desc (accessed 2 February 2010). Blomfield, Adrian (2009). ‘Russia Accuses Kyrgyzstan of Treachery over US Military Base’, Telegraph, 24 June. Available at http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/asia/kyrgyzstan/5624355/Russia-accuses-Kyrgystan-of-treachery-over-USmilitary-base.html (accessed 1 February 2010). Chan, John (2008). ‘Shanghai Cooperation Organisation Cautiously Endorses Russia over Georgia’, RFE/RL, 3 September. Chernov, Oleg (2004). ‘At the Heart of New Eurasian Expanse’, International Affairs: A Russian Journal of World Politics, Diplomacy and International Relations, special issue on Russia and Central Asia after an International Conference held in Moscow on 23 October 2003. Chudinov, Igor (2009). Speech by Prime Minister of the Kyrgyz Republic at the Fifth World Water Forum Summit, Istanbul, 16 March. Dubrovin, Sergey (2005). Reflections of the Political Scientist on Turkmenistan’s Ddecision to Bbecome an Associated Member of the CIS, 31 August. Available at http://www.turkmenistan.ru/?page_id=4&lang_id=en&elem_id=7051&type= event&sort=date_desc. (accessed 2 February 2010). Felgenhauer, Pavel (2008). ‘Russia is Stronger and More Aggressive’, Eurasia Daily Monitor, The Jamestown Foundation, vol. 5, no. 136, July. Available at http://www. jamestown.org/single/?no_cache=1&tx_ttnews%5Btt_news%5D=33808 (accessed 1 February 2010). FPC (2000). The Foreign Policy Concept of the Russian Federation, Approved by the President of the Russian Federation V. Putin, 28 June. Available at http://www.fas. org/nuke/guide/russia/doctrine/econcept.htm (accessed 22 January 2010). FPC (2008). The Foreign Policy Concept of the Russian Federation, Official Web Portal of the President of Russia, 12 July. Available at http://www.kremlin.ru/eng/text/ docs/2008/07/204750.shtml (accessed 22 January 2010). Freire, Maria Raquel (2008). ‘The Russian Federation and CIS States’, in Edward Kolodziej and Roger E. Kanet (eds) From Superpower to Besieged Global Power: Restoring World Order after the Failure of the Bush Doctrine. Athens, GA: University of Georgia Press, pp. 155–75.

76 Eurasia at the Heart of Russian Politics Freire, Maria Raquel (2009). ‘Russian Policy in Central Asia: Supporting, Balancing, Coercing, or Imposing?’, Asian Perspective, vol. 33, no. 2, pp. 125–49. Freire, Maria Raquel and Gomes, Teresa Cierco (2005). ‘Regional Security and the Nagorno-Karabakh Conflict’, Nação e Defesa, no. 110, pp. 59–86. Freire, Maria Raquel and Mendes, Carmen Amado (2009). ‘Realpolitik Dynamics and Image Construction in the Russia–China Relationship: Forging a Strategic Partnership?’, Journal of Current Chinese Affairs, no. 2, pp. 27–52. Government of Georgia (2007). Georgia’s Democratic Transformation: An Update since the Rose Revolution, January, p. 60. Available at http://www.president.gov.ge/files/ baners/dem_transform_3.pdf (accessed 5 July 2010). Harding, Luke (2008). ‘Russia Election Not Free or Fair, Say Observers’, The Guardian, 3 March. Hosking, Geoffrey (2003). Russia and the Russians: A History. Cambridge, MA: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press. HRW (2009). World Report 2009: Events of 2008. New York: Human Rights Watch. Huang, Jing (2008). ‘Beijing’s Approach on the Russo-Georgian Conflict: Dilemma and Choices’, China Brief, 3 September. Available at http://www.jamestown. org/programs/chinabrief/single/?tx_ttnews%5Btt_news%5D=5133&tx_ttnews% 5BbackPid%5D=168&no_cache=1 (accessed 1 February 2010). Imanaliev, Muratbek (2008). ‘Keynote Speech: Central Asia: Where Is It?’, Central Eurasian Studies Society (CESS) First Regional Conference, 5 August, Issyq Kol, Kyrgyzstan. Jonson, Lena (2001). ‘Russia and Central Asia’, in Roy Allison and Lena Jonson (eds) Central Asian Security: The New International Context. Washington, DC: Brookings Institution, pp. 95–126. Kazantsev, Andrei (2008). ‘Russian Policy in Central Asia and the Caspian Sea Region’, Europe–Asia Studies, vol. 60, no. 6, pp. 1073–88. Kubicek, Paul (2004). ‘Russian Energy Policy in the Caspian Basin’, World Affairs, vol. 166, no. 4, pp. 207–17. LeVine, Steve (2008). Putin’s Labyrinth: Spies, Murder, and the Dark Heart of the New Russia. New York: Random House. Light, Margot (2003). ‘In Search of an Identity: Russian Foreign Policy and the End of Ideology’, Communist Studies and Transition Politics, vol. 19, no. 4, pp. 42–59. Medvedev, Dmitry (2008a). ‘Five Principles of Russian Foreign Policy’, http://current. com/news/89258352_new-russian-world-order-the-five-principles.htm (accessed 5 July 2010). Medvedev, Dmitry (2008b). Address to the Federal Assembly of the Russian Federation, Grand Kremlin Palace, Moscow, 5 November. Available at http:// www.realliberalchristianchurch.org/wordpress/2008/11/17/full-text-of-russianpresident-dmitry-medvedevs-november-5-2008-address-to-the-federal-assemblyof-the-russian-federation-and-november-15-2008-speech-at-the-g-20-summit.html (accessed 5 July 2010). Medvedev, Dmitry (2009). ‘Medvedev Orders Large-scale Rearmament to Counter NATO’, Agence France Press, 17 March. MFA Armenia (2003). ‘Armenia’s Foreign Relations in 2003: A Summary’, Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Republic of Armenia. Available at http://www.armeniaforeignministry.com/htms/PR/040114vo_summary.html (accessed 5 July 2010). MFA Kazakhstan (2008). Kazakhstan’s Foreign Policy. Available at http://portal.mfa. kz/portal/page/portal/mfa/en/content/news/nws2009 (accessed 2 February 2010). MFA Tajikistan (2007). ‘Tajikistan in the System of International Relations: Tajikistan – Bilateral and Multilateral Cooperation’, Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Republic of

Maria Raquel Freire 77 Tajikistan. Available at http://www.mid.tj/index.php?node=article&id=184 (accessed 2 February 2010). MFA Turkmenistan (2002). Central Middle Asia, 30 August. Available at http://www. turkmenistan.ru/?page_id=4&lang_id=en&elem_id=5776&type=event&sort=date_ desc (accessed 2 February 2010). Najibullah, Farangis (2009). ‘Central Asia’s Era of Cheap Gas Comes to a Close’, RFE/RL, 6 January. NSD (2000). National Security Document of the Russian Federation, 18 January. Available at http://www.fas.org/nuke/guide/russia/doctrine/gazeta012400.htm (accessed 22 January 2010). Nygren, Bertil (2008). ‘Putin’s Use of Natural Gas to Reintegrate the CIS Region’, Problems of Post-Communism, vol. 55, no. 4, pp. 3–15. Reuters (2008). ‘US May be Allowed to Use Uzbek Military Base – NATO’, 5 March. Available at http://www.alertnet.org/thenews/newsdesk/L0593284.htm (accessed 5 July 2010). Reuters (2009a). ‘Medvedev Criticizes Putin’s Cabinet on Economy’, 11 January. Available at http://www.rferl.org/content/Medvedev_Criticizes_Putinled_Cabinet_ On_Economy/1368742.html (accessed 5 July 2010). Reuters (2009b). ‘Azerbaijani Foreign Minister Expresses Concern on Turkey–Armenia Relations Thaw’, 11 May. RFE/RL (2007). ‘Russia: Kremlin Sees its Foreign Policy Star on Rise’, 21 March. RFE/RL (2008). ‘Russia: Medvedev Election Greeted Coolly Abroad’, 3 March. RFE/RL (2009). ‘Russian-led CSTO Grouping Adds Military Dimension’, 4 February. RFE/RL (2009). ‘Uzbekistan Accepts Obama’s Call for “New Beginning” ’, 9 June. RFE/RL (2009). ‘New Deal on U.S. Air Base in Kyrgyzstan Signed into Law’, 7 July. RIA Novosti (2008). ‘China, Central Asian States Back Russian Role in Georgia Conflict’, 28 August. Available at http://en.rian.ru/russia/20080828/116345088. html (accessed 28 January 2010). RMD (1993, amended 2000). Draft Russian Military Doctrine. Available at http:// www.fas.org/nuke/guide/russia/doctrine/991009-draft-doctrine.htm (accessed 28 January 2010). Russia Today (2009). ‘CSTO – A NATO for the East?’, 5 February. Available at http:// www.russiatoday.ru/Top_News/2009-0205/CSTO___a_NATO_for_the_East.html (accessed 1 February 2010). Rywkin, Michael (2006). ‘Security and Stability in Central Asia: Differing Interests and Perspectives’, American Foreign Policy Interests, vol. 28, no. 3, pp. 193–217. Shanghai Cooperation Organisation (SCO) (2008). Dushanbe Declaration of Heads of SCO Member States (August 2008). Available at http://en.sco2009.ru/docs/ documents/index.html (accessed 28 January 2010). Shevtsova, Lilia (2005). Putin’s Russia. Washington, DC: Carnegie Endowment for International Peace. Simão, Licínia and Maria Raquel Freire (2008). ‘The EU’s Neighbourhood Policy and the South Caucasus: Unfolding New Patterns of Cooperation’, Caucasian Review of International Affairs, vol. 2, no. 4, pp. 225–39. Slezneva, Ludmilla (2003). ‘Post-Soviet Russian Foreign Policy: Between Doctrine and Pragmatism’, in Rick Fawn (ed.) Realignments in Russian Foreign Policy. London: Frank Cass, pp. 10–28. Tarasov, Anton (2007). ‘Turkmenistan and the United Nations Assess the Results of Cooperation in last 15 years’, 6 March. Available at http://www.turkmenistan. ru/?page_id=4&lang_id=en&elem_id=9553&type=event&sort=date_desc (accessed 2 February 2010).

78 Eurasia at the Heart of Russian Politics Tatar-Inform News Agency (2008). ‘New page is Opened in History of Turkmen–Russia Relations’, News Agency of the Republic of Tatarstan. Available at http://www. turkmenistan.ru/?page_id=4&lang_id=en&elem_id=13142&type=event&sort=date_desc (accessed 2 February 2010). Voskressenski, Alexei (2007). ‘The Rise of China and Russo-Chinese Relations in the New Global Politics of Eastern Asia’, in I. Akihiro (ed.) Eager Eyes Fixed on Eurasia: Russia and its Eastern Edge, Vol. 2. Sapporo: Slavic Research Center, pp. 3–46. Wilhelmsen, Julie and Geir Flikke (2005). ‘Copy That ...’: A Russian ‘Bush Doctrine’ in the CIS?, Norwegian Institute of International Affairs (NUPI). Available at http:// se2.isn.ch/serviceengine/FileContent?serviceID=10&fileid=1E0524C8-4D1C-61D214A1-EEBA379AD478&lng=en (accessed 28 January 2010).

Part II External Powers, Russia and Eurasia

This page intentionally left blank

4 Russia and the Greater Caspian Basin: Withstanding the US Challenge Roger E. Kanet

In the first decade after the collapse of the Soviet Union the US, while officially supporting the emergence of a democratic political system in the Russian Federation, also attempted to contain the potential reassertion by Moscow of dominant influence throughout the broad region of Central Asia and the Caspian Basin – a region rich in energy resources.1 To some extent, through NATO’s Partnership for Peace Programme, expanded bilateral relationships with the new governments of the region, and access to military bases in the aftermath of the terrorist attacks against the US in September 2001, the US was able to establish a presence throughout the region and to challenge Russia’s role. The fact that the political elites of the new states of Eurasia were attempting to establish their sovereignty and to create some distance and autonomy from Moscow facilitated the pursuit of Washington’s policy objectives. However, more recently, as the incompatibility of some US interests with those of local political elites became evident – for example, issues related to democratisation and human rights concerns – and as Russia, flush with new-found oil and gas wealth, began to assert its role as the dominant actor within its immediate neighbourhood, the weakness of the US position and of its challenge to the re-establishment of a dominant Russian role in the region became quite evident. By the time of the drafting of this chapter in spring 2009, the role of the US as a serious challenger to Russia throughout Central Asia and the greater Caspian region had already waned. The realities of geographic proximity versus distance, as well as the basic incompatibility of many US policy objectives with the interests of the political elites of the countries of the region, had become evident. The Russian Federation had survived the challenge from the US for influence and was well on its way to re-establishing its role as the dominant external actor throughout the region. Yet, as we will see, this shift was by no means permanent, or even stable, as local political elites played the Russian Federation and the US against one another in the attempt to expand economic, security or political gains. What has also become quite evident is the fact that in the new ‘Great Game’ for influence in Central Asia the local states are not mere 81

82 Russia and the Greater Caspian Basin

pawns in the hands of the ‘Great Powers’. In fact, local leaders have been able to use their command of energy resources, their location and other factors to play off the outside states to their own advantage. In the present chapter we will track the development of US efforts to establish a presence and influence in the Central Asian and Caucasian regions in the post-Cold War era,2 as well as the Russian responses to those efforts – responses that, by spring 2009, appeared to have successfully warded off the challenge, but only a few months later seemed marginally less effective.3 The argument will be developed in five stages. We will first survey briefly the impact of the demise of the Soviet Union on Moscow’s foreign policy, including its ability to establish and determine what it viewed as its key interests. We will then examine the efforts of the leaders of the post-Soviet states of the greater Caspian region to balance their dependence on Moscow with expanded economic, political, and security links with states from outside the region. This discussion will lead to a third issue, namely early US efforts to establish contacts with and influence in the greater Caspian region as part of a broader policy of taking advantage of what many at the time viewed as the permanent demise of Russia as a major power. The fourth segment of the argument will outline the return of Russia as a major actor during the presidency of Vladimir Putin and the overall deterioration of Russian–US relations. The final section of the narrative will track the recent tensions in US relations with key Central Asian states and the apparent success – at least partial and possibly for the foreseeable future – of the Russians’ efforts to re-establish themselves as the dominant external influence throughout the region. Included in this assessment, of course, will be a discussion of the interests of local political elites and the various ways in which those interests impact the new ‘Great Game’ for major power influence in the great swath of land and peoples bounded by China in the east, Russia in the north, and South Asia and the Middle East to the south.

Russia and the Greater Caspian Basin under Yeltsin Initially, as the new Russian government focused on strengthening its ties with the West and on being accepted as a full member of what Yeltsin termed ‘the civilized community’ (Yeltsin, 1992), it paid relatively little attention to its relations with other former Soviet republics that had also just acquired independence. In part, this was a factor in the virtual revolt among political elites in Russia against the foreign policy of President Yeltsin that resulted in the policy shift in the mid-1990s, which included emphasising the importance of Russia’s relations with its near neighbours and with countries in Asia, as well as with Europe. President Yeltsin issued a decree that called for a reversal of the growing separatist trends already present throughout the entire post-Soviet region (Blank, 2002, p. 150; Roeder, 1997, p. 223).

Roger E. Kanet 83

By the year 2000, almost a decade after its creation, the CIS had failed in any meaningful sense of the word to integrate the Soviet successor states. On paper the Commonwealth was a forum for ambitious projects of cooperation; in reality it witnessed a diminishing base of collaborative activities (Sakwa and Webber, 1999; Olcott, Åslund and Garnett, 1999). Stephen Blank has noted the place that a revitalised CIS played early in President Putin’s intensified efforts to achieve one of the central objectives of Russian foreign policy established by the mid-1990s: that is, preserving Russia’s integrity and restoring Russian primacy in an exclusive sphere of influence across the CIS (Blank, 2002, p. 148). Yet even he soon discovered that bilateral relationships were likely to be far more effective in rebuilding Russia’s role throughout the region. But the central issue concerns the fact that for much of the first decade of existence of the Russian Federation Moscow devoted relatively little attention to relations with its near neighbours to the south. Not until President Putin committed his government to re-establishing its central, even dominant, position in former Soviet space towards the end of his first administration did the region re-emerge as a priority in Russian policy. By then, as we shall see, Russia faced potential competitors for influence – from the US, from China, as well as from both Turkey and Iran. Added to this, local political leaders had become more adept of balancing their relations with those outside powers interested in the region.

The search for identity separate from Moscow The leadership of the new Central Asian states that emerged after the implosion of the former Soviet Union had played no role whatsoever in the breakup of the USSR. The meeting in Belovezha, near Brest, on 8 December 1991 that resulted in the decision to disband the Union was attended only by the heads of the three Slavic republics. Only after the leaders of the other republics learned of the decision and demanded that they be included in planning the political and economic future of what would soon be former Soviet space were they included in discussions about the establishment of the CIS. The very first task that faced the leaders and political elites of the new sovereign states that emerged in Central Asia and the Caucasus was to create viable new political systems, a sense of political identity among the population, and the foundations for a national economy (Anderson, 1997, pp. 79–165). Added to this was the need to establish the institutions of national security, if these states were to emerge as truly sovereign political actors. Moscow’s initial inference that Russia’s interests lay predominantly in the West was, in part, a call for these new leaders to look beyond Russia in its initial search for political and economic partners. The presence of oil and natural gas reserves in much of the region, as well as ethnic and religious factors, meant that Turkey, Iran, the EU, China, and even the US all demonstrated an interest in establishing ties with these new countries and, thus,

84 Russia and the Greater Caspian Basin

provided their leaders with the opportunity to reduce their dependence on the Russian Federation.4 Moreover, Moscow’s initial focus on relations with Europe and the US and its seeming indifference to developments in the region, along with the numerous multilateral agreements within the context of the CIS, meant that locally dominant states used the emerging multilateral institutions in the attempt to achieve their own goals, while the smaller states attempted to use them to constrain the larger ones (MacFarlane, 1997, p. 59; Kay, 2003, p. 125). Throughout the 1990s the security collaboration between Russia and the Central Asian and Caucasian states was just as ineffectual as collaboration within the CIS more generally. Of the many agreements signed within the context of the 1992 Collective Security Treaty few were ever implemented and by 1999 the treaty was effectively moribund (Berryman, 2007). As Martha Brill Olcott (2005, pp. 20–51) has noted, the region suffers from serious divisions on issues ranging from the distribution of natural resources, including water, to differing views on policy choices. The fact that all countries shared common political and economic experiences under both the Tsarist and Soviet regimes does not mean that their current issues and problems or their approaches to dealing with them are identical.

Expanding US involvement in Central Asia and the Caucasus During the 1990s and especially after the terrorist attacks of September 2001 the US became an active participant in the politics of Central Asia and the Caucasus. Stated objectives of US policy in the region were the removal of nuclear weapons from Kazakhstan and more broadly across the region democracy-building, free market economies, regional cooperation, and integration into the international system (Weinthal, 2000). With the decision to establish NATO’s Partnership for Peace (PfP) programme in 1994 in partial response to demands for full NATO membership by countries in Central Europe and as a means to begin the process of extending US and Western influence across post-communist space from Central Europe to Central Asia, the US established its first major contacts with the countries of the region (Dannreuther, 2000, pp. 151–2).5 The withdrawal of Russian forces from Central Asia throughout the first decade of post-Soviet Russian existence mentioned above occurred at a time of the active expansion of NATO’s PfP programmes throughout the region. First, NATO invited all the former communist states to participate in a newly established organisation, the North Atlantic Cooperation Council (NACC), which was meant to provide a forum for consultation with former Cold War enemies. The Central European countries responded almost immediately and joined in December 1991; the post-Soviet CIS members joined in spring 1992 (Rivera, 2003, p. 82). However, by early 1994 the NACC evolved into the PfP programme, which for the Central European and Baltic countries became a fast track

Roger E. Kanet 85

to full NATO membership. For the Caucasian and Central Asian states and other former Soviet republics it has remained a means of collaborating with Western militaries in upgrading training and equipment, modernising militaries, engaging in joint military manoeuvres, and related activities.6 By the end of the first decade after the disintegration of the USSR, therefore, the US had established, via NATO, a very modest military presence and involvement in a region that until then had been for more than a century an integral part of the Russian and Soviet states. In addition to initial US political and security involvement in Central Asia and the Caucasus, of course, must also come the US concern for petroleum and natural gas, in particular as related to the objective of limiting the reestablishment of a dominant position throughout the region by the Russian Federation. In fact, after the removal of nuclear weapons from Kazakhstan in 1995 and until the US military intervention in Afghanistan in late 2001, they were probably the dominant US goals in the region. It was not merely the fact that the countries of the Greater Caspian Basin represented additional energy resources for the major European allies of the US, but also the fact that the existing delivery system of both petroleum and natural gas from the region to Europe crossed Russian territory.7 Expanded deliveries of oil and gas to Europe meant the potential increase of European dependence on Russia for crucial energy supplies and, thus, an enhancement of the Russian Federation’s ability to reassert influence in European affairs. Thus, the US, and US oil companies, became actively involved in the attempt to negotiate access especially to the gas fields of Central Asia and to the construction of pipelines to deliver that gas to the West that would skirt Russian territory. This attempt to contain Russia’s future economic and political role in Central Asian and European gas markets was, in fact, part of the US commitment to maintain its global position in relationship with the Russian Federation. Although US officials have denied that this was a goal of US policy, their Russian counterparts, especially Mr Putin, have complained bitterly about what they have perceived as a continuation of the US containment policy. This aspect of American policy in the region can be found in efforts since the mid-1990s to provide CIS member states with alternatives to continued dependence on Russia and strengthen their ability to resist Russian domination. In the case of the countries of the Caspian Basin this included the attempt to reduce Russia’s ability to exert influence over the expanding oil and gas production of the region by locating pipelines so that they skirt Russian territory (see Ebel and Menon, 2000; Ziegler, 2005). Despite the various US initiatives throughout the Greater Caspian region during the 1990s, it was not really until after the terrorist attacks in New York and Washington of September 2001 that the US expanded its policy interest in the area. These attacks represented the turning point in US involvement in the Central Asian and Caucasus states. The US acquired temporary basing facilities in response to a changing security environment, as Uzbekistan,

86 Russia and the Greater Caspian Basin

Kyrgyzstan, and Tajikistan became frontline states in operation ‘Enduring Freedom’ (Wishnick, 2009, p. 1). Although other goals, such as democratisation and transformation of the economy, still retained their importance, anti-terrorism became the central element of US policy both in the region and globally.8 Although Russia extended its support to the US in their joint fight against terror and, in fact, played an active role in facilitating the initial expansion of US military involvement in Central Asia, the Russians soon became concerned about long-term US involvement in its ‘backyard’.9 Despite the brief improvement in Russian–US relations immediately after 9/11, it was not long until President Putin’s Russia reoriented its policy towards one of Russian resurgence as a great power, Russian unilateralism in pursuing its interests, and a form of revisionism aimed at reversing what Russian leaders view as geopolitical disasters of the 1990s.

A resurgent Russia and renewed Russian–US divisions10 At the very outset of his presidency Vladimir Putin made clear his commitment to re-establishing Russia’s position as the pre-eminent regional power and as major international actor. Essential preconditions for the fulfilment of these objectives were the internal political stability and economic viability of Russia (Foreign Policy Concept of the Russian Federation, 2000). Putin moved forcefully and, in most cases, effectively to reassert central governmental control in Russia. The economy rebounded from the depths of the financial crash of 1998 (Central Bank, 2001) and high growth rates continued – not merely in the oil and gas sector, but across broad sectors of the economy (The World Bank in Russia, 2008). These political and economic gains, however, occurred along with growing disregard for the civil liberties and democratic processes to which Putin’s government was nominally committed. In the foreign policy realm Putin continued to seek allies who shared Russia’s commitment to preventing the global dominance of the US, which represents, in the words of the ‘Foreign Policy Concept’, a threat to international security and to Russia’s goal of serving as a major centre of influence in a multipolar world. Most of the issues on which Russia and the US disagreed already in the mid-1990s continued to plague that relationship. In other words, until the terrorist attacks on the US in September 2001 there was little evidence that the disagreements dividing Russia and the US during the 1990s would disappear soon – in particular since they derived from core elements of their respective foreign policy commitments. In fact, after a very brief hiatus immediately after 9/11, those issues re-emerged and continue to undermine Russian–US relations in 2009. However, President Putin’s success in dealing with the major domestic problems challenging the Russian state meant that Russia increasingly faced Europe and the US from a position of stability and strength. Putin’s

Roger E. Kanet 87

reassertion of central control over the territory of the Russian Federation – by eliminating the election of provincial governors, by suppressing domestic opponents and critics (especially the independent media) and by playing on the fears of Russian citizens of domestic terrorism, crime, and general chaos – played an important role in strengthening the Russian state, which under his predecessor at times seemed on the verge of collapsing. Besides rebuilding the foundations of the Russian state at great cost to political liberty and democracy as a precondition for Russia’s ability to reassert itself as a major power, Putin and his associates benefited greatly from the exponential rise in global demand for gas and oil – at least until the global economic collapse of late 2008 – and the ensuing revitalisation of the Russian economy. This, in turn, has contributed to Russia’s ability to pursue a much more active and assertive foreign policy. It is yet to be seen what the longer-term impact of the collapse of the global economy since late 2008 will have and how the dramatic drop in energy prices will affect the Russian economy and Russia’s ability to pursue an assertive foreign policy. Thus, Putin was quite successful, and fortunate, during the eight years of his presidency in establishing the economic and political foundations for a strong centralised state as the prerequisite for Russia’s reasserting itself as a major player in international political and security affairs, in part to reverse the results of what former President Putin himself termed ‘the greatest geopolitical catastrophe of the century’, namely the collapse of the USSR (Putin, 2005). This comment was followed early in 2007 by Putin’s broad attack on virtually all aspects of US policy delivered at an international security conference in Munich, which made clear Russia’s new assertive and nationalistic approach to foreign policy, beginning with its relations with the US (Putin, 2007). The rhetoric emanating from Moscow after the military incursion into Georgia, in particular that of President Medvedev, confirmed the image of Russia as a revisionist state intent upon re-establishing its dominant role, at least along its periphery, and one that simply will no longer deal with the rest of the world on any other terms except those that it sets (Levy, 2008).11 It is important to note that from Moscow’s perspective its policy goals are not revisionist, but rather are intended to re-establish Russia’s legitimate position in the aftermath of the West’s having taken advantage of Russian decline in the immediate post-Cold War period. By May 2008, when Putin turned the presidency over to his successor Dmitry Medvedev, Russia had re-emerged as a major player in European economic and political affairs and the dominant actor in most of post-Soviet space. The foundation of this new role has been Russia’s semi-monopoly over the extraction and distribution of natural gas and oil across much of Eurasia, and the growing direct influence that this semi-monopoly provides over the economies of neighbouring states. The gas war between Russia and Ukraine in January 2009 and its implications for European consumers of Russian gas make clear both the importance to Moscow of its control of oil

88 Russia and the Greater Caspian Basin

and gas exports in the pursuit of foreign policy objectives and its willingness to use that leverage.12 Before turning to a more detailed discussion of specific developments in Russian relations with the US in the recent past as they concern Central Asia, it is important to note, at least briefly, the relationship between the growing assertiveness in Russian foreign policy and domestic political developments. As Russia’s leaders abandoned the halting efforts at democratisation that characterised the first decade of the Russian Federation and increasingly re-established the institutions and policies of a traditional authoritarian state, they have also seized upon economic growth and Russian nationalism as the foundations on which to build support from broad segments of the population. The economic boom of the past decade that resulted in more than doubling the gross domestic product per capita of the Russian population has been an important element in the popularity of former President Putin and in the support for his policies. However, the question arises about the Russian people’s willingness to continue to support an essentially authoritarian regime in a period of serious economic downturn, such as the one that engulfed Russia at the end of 2008. Public opinion polls, as well as anecdotal information, indicate widespread public support for the return of Russia to great power status; more specifically Russians overwhelmingly supported the Kremlin’s decision to invade Georgia in August 2008 (Barnard, 2008; ‘Half of Russians’, 2008). Related to this broad sense of nationalism, the Putin–Medvedev leadership has increasingly focused on the dangers to Russia presented by foreign enemies, of which the US is virtually always listed first. The most recent version of the Foreign Policy Concept (FPC) issued by President Medvedev in late July 2008, immediately prior to the intervention in Georgia, represents a break with earlier versions of the Concept, even though it in effect merely codified changes that had already occurred over recent years. First, unlike the Concept issued at the beginning of the Putin presidency, it focuses on external, rather than internal, challenges to Russian security – with US global dominance at the very top of the list. In line with the extensive discussion of ‘sovereign democracy’ in Russia, the Concept stipulates that global competition is acquiring a civilisational dimension, which suggests competition between different value systems and development models within the framework of universal democratic and market economy principles. The new FPC maintains that the reaction to the prospect of loss by the historic West of its monopoly in global processes finds its expression, in particular, in the continued political and psychological policy of ‘containing Russia’ (Foreign Policy Concept, 2008). The document emphasises throughout Russia’s independence and sovereignty as the foundation on which all of Moscow’s relations with the outside world must be built. A resurgent nationalism, integrated with an almost paranoid concern for security,13 underlies Moscow’s current approach to the outside world. As both Vladimir Putin and Dmitry Medvedev have repeated on numerous

Roger E. Kanet 89

occasions, Russia is a major power whose interests have simply been ignored by the West, especially a would-be hegemonic Washington. With the return of Russia’s power base – especially in economic terms – Russia simply will not stand by and permit those interests to be pushed aside. It will not permit itself either to become a dependent supporter of US policy initiatives or to be shunted aside into the ‘dustbin of history’.

The return of Moscow to the Greater Caspian Basin This assertive approach to relations with neighbouring countries, and the world more broadly, has characterised recent Russian policy in the Greater Caspian Basin, as well. The clearest example has been Russian policy towards Georgia, which, long before the August 2008 invasion, was characterised by economic coercion and threats of military action (Nygren, 2007a, 2008).14 An integral part of Russia’s commitment to regain great power status during the past decade has been the focus on bilateral relations with other CIS member countries, including those of Central Asia and the Caucasus, incorporating the strengthening of the latters’ economic dependence on Russia.15 These have largely replaced the CIS as a functional approach for Moscow to manage its relations with these countries. In addition, however, two new regional organisations have evolved in the past decade that supplement the bilateral relationships, namely, the Collective Security Treaty Organisation (CSTO) and the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation (SCO). The former was created in spring 1992, soon after the collapse of the former USSR and has included most of the former Soviet republics (with the exception of the Baltic states) as members. Although Russia is clearly the dominant member, it is not able to impose its will on the others, as was seen after the Georgian war when Moscow was unable to secure a statement of support for its actions. In fact, in the aftermath of the military intervention in Georgia Moscow has found it increasingly difficult to get its views on the development of a collective security force implemented in the organisation (McDermott, 2009). In many respects the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation has been more active and more successful than the other multinational institutions that include both the Russian Federation and the states of the Greater Caspian Basin as members. The SCO has its roots in the late 1990s when both Russia and China were looking for ways to consolidate their opposition to and to challenge what both view as US global dominance. It was officially formed in 2001 and includes besides China and Russia all the Central Asian states except Turkmenistan, but none of the Caucasian countries. Despite its political role of challenging US global domination, its major security operations focus on anti-terrorist activities, including the improvement of border controls and mutual assistance in fighting drug trafficking and international crime. Yet, the SCO has not become

90 Russia and the Greater Caspian Basin

an effective instrument for Russia to impose its policy preferences on the smaller members of the organisation. It is primarily through bilateral relations with the countries of the region that Moscow has attempted to accomplish its overall objectives. As noted earlier, in the immediate aftermath of the terrorist attacks of September 2001 and at a time when Putin had not yet embarked upon a unilateralist approach to achieving Russia’s foreign and security objectives, Russia in effect facilitated the expansion of the US and NATO’s military presence in Central Asia. As the Russian leadership responded to the Bush Doctrine, including the US decision to invade Iraq, and to Russia’s changing political and economic fortunes, they concluded that a semi-permanent US military presence in Central Asia, in addition to the continued expansion of NATO and EU into what President Medvedev (2008a) was to refer to as areas of ‘privileged interest’ and US-led efforts to ‘divert’ Central Asian gas away from Russian pipelines, would undermine Russian national interests. The result, since about 2003 has been a concerted effort by Russia along several lines. First, Russia has expanded its efforts to integrate the future exploitation and delivery of Central Asian gas into the Russian production and delivery system in competition with US plans to reduce the dependence of these countries on Russia by expanding alternative delivery routes that do not cross Russian territory and, thus, would reduce Russia’s ability at some future date to use energy as an instrument to influence, even coerce, European support for Russian policy preferences, as they have tried to do on numerous occasions in recent years with some of their near neighbours in the West (Nygren, 2007b, 2008). The second aspect of the Russian policy response has been to support the Central Asian leaderships when the latter have been criticised by the US, to encourage them to terminate the agreements with the US for basing rights, and to push forward bilateral and multilateral efforts for expanded cooperation in the security realm. A central instrument of foreign policy almost from the inception of the new Russian Federation, but especially during the past decade, has been control over energy. Belarus, Estonia, Georgia, and Ukraine have all suffered the cut-off of gas and/or oil flows – usually in mid-winter and usually as a result of political disagreements. For example, the source of the Russian– Ukrainian confrontation over gas deliveries in January 2009 was the issue of Ukraine’s defiance of Moscow’s preferences across a broad range of issues and not simply disagreement over the price of gas exported to Ukraine. Ever since the ‘Orange Revolution’ relations had soured. Most recently Ukraine had insisted on the Russian removal of their Black Sea Fleet from its bases in Sevastopol, currently scheduled for 2017. The Ukrainian government had also made clear its interest in joining NATO, and the US under George W. Bush had pushed for Ukrainian and Georgian membership.16 Until the Russian military incursion in Georgia economic pressures, especially related to energy, were among Russia’s major tools for influencing Tbilisi’s

Roger E. Kanet 91

policies – along with threats of military intervention to support separatists in Abkhazia and South Ossetia.17 The major security concern that the US, as well as a number of the new Central European members of the EU and NATO, have raised relates to the growing European dependence on Russian energy and the possibility that Russia might deal with EU member states as it has dealt with its immediate neighbours – including EU and NATO member Estonia in 2007 at the time of the so-called cyber-war over the moving of the grave of the unknown Russian soldier.18 As noted earlier, the US has been actively involved since the mid-1990s in the development of alternate gas and oil distribution routes to Europe from Central Asia and Azerbaijan, to reduce Russia’s ability to gain a semimonopoly over the distribution of Eurasian energy resources by calling for the construction of oil and gas pipelines that would avoid Russian territory.19 Yet Russia has effectively outmanoeuvred the US in its relations with the oiland gas-producing countries of Central Asia. Although several pipelines have been completed that avoid Russian territory, Moscow has been successful in recent years in re-establishing solid political and economic relations with the authoritarian regimes of Central Asia. They have signed new agreements with Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan and other major energy producers that will result in expanded supplies of gas and oil destined for European consumers through the existing and planned pipeline network that crosses Russian territory (Hahn, 2007; Kramer, 2007; see Map 4.1). In the period surrounding the Russian intervention in Georgia, Moscow signed new agreements with Central Asian producers for the expansion of their gas exports through Russia, rather than via southern pipelines favoured by the US (Bhadrakumar, 2008; People’s Daily Online, 2008).20 Russia has also signed agreements with major European countries, operating outside any common EU policy, to construct new pipelines that will avoid the territory of Ukraine, Belarus, and Poland and, thus, any ability of those countries to use Russia’s dependence on them for delivery to Europe of petroleum and gas for political purposes.21 These new pipelines are meant to expand Russia’s domination over the gas markets of Europe, while reducing the possibility of countries such as Ukraine, Belarus or Poland disrupting those flows (The Economist, 2008). Overall, with its new contracts for gas deliveries from Central Asia and the agreements to build new pipelines to Europe, Russia has seemingly positioned itself effectively to control the production and distribution of energy across almost the entirety of former Soviet space and, thus, to Europe as well, as part of former President Putin’s commitment to establish Greater Russia as a major global actor and, thus, undercut an important element of US policy concerning Eurasian energy (see Table 4.1). The second important aspect of Russia’s response to the perceived challenge to Russian interests represented by expanded US involvement in

92

Map 4.1

Gas pipelines in Europe

Source: Nies (2008), p. 5. Reprinted with the permission of Institut français des relations internationales.

Table 4.1 Major recipients of Russian natural gas exports, 2006–7 Rank

Country

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Germany Turkey Italy France Czech Republic Poland Hungary Slovakia Austria Finland Romania Bulgaria Greece Serbia & Montenegro Croatia Slovenia Switzerland Macedonia

15 16 17 18

2006 Exports (bcf/y)

2007 Exports (bcf/y)

2006 % of domestic NG consumption

1,300 703 756 353 261 272 272 240 233 173 180 113 95 74

1,378 827 742 346 247 247 226 223 191 166 138 120 113 74

36% 84% 25% 20% 79% 47% 54% 100% 74% 100% 28% 96% 82% 87%

35 25 14 4

35 18 11 4

37% 64% 12% 100% (Continued)

Roger E. Kanet 93 Table 4.1 Continued Rank

Country

2006 Exports (bcf/y)

2007 Exports (bcf/y)

Sales to

Baltic and

CIS States

1 2 3 4 5

Ukraine Belarus Baltic States Azerbaijan Georgia

2,085 724 173 141 67

2,240 763 243 0 36

2006 % of domestic NG consumption

66% 98% 78% 35% 100%

Source: ‘Domestic Consumption’, EIA International Energy Annual, 2007; ‘Exports 2006 and 2007’, Gazexport, as cited by Energy Intelligence, March 2008; ‘Sales to Baltic and CIS States 2007’, CIS and E. European Databook, 2006 from Gazprom Annual Report. Available online at http://www.eia. doe.gov/emeu/cabs/Russia/NaturalGas.html.

Central Asia and the Caucasus was the focus on strengthening military– security ties with the countries of the region, as well as influencing their leaderships to terminate the arrangements for US access to military bases across the region. The strengthening of bilateral security relationships, as well as the expansion of efforts to expand multilateral security operations, under Russian leadership, within the context of the CSTO were an important aspect of Russian policy towards the region by 2005 and later (Berryman, 2007; Ziegler, 2009). Most important was the announcement in November 2008 of the creation of a joint rapid reaction force by the CSTO,22 which, in the words of its secretary-general, would be able to repel any military intervention from outside the area (Zhussip, 2008; Najibullah, 2008). However, despite these agreements the Russians are finding that dealing with their Central Asian neighbours is no easier than it has been over the course of the past two decades. By spring and summer 2009 it had become clear that not all of those who had signed on to the rapid reaction force interpreted the agreements in the same way as Moscow. Serious differences have become evident, for example, Uzbekistan’s apparent reluctance at deploying 8,000–15,000 troops across the southern portion of Central Asia (Felgenhauer, 2009; Stratfor, 2009). Overall, despite the problems that the US has had in maintaining its relations with several of the Central Asian countries, Russia has discovered, as well, that despite – perhaps, because of – the long and strong historical Russian ties to the region and its overwhelming geopolitical and geo-economic role in the region, it often cannot achieve its objectives. The key issue is the fact that local political elites are simply unwilling to commit to dependency relationships with any major state and are willing, and able, to use their position, their command over resources, and other factors to play major powers off against one another.

94 Russia and the Greater Caspian Basin

An interim assessment The purpose of this chapter, as noted at the beginning, is to track the efforts of the US to establish itself as a major actor in Central Asia and the Caucasus and the response of a reinvigorated Russian Republic to those efforts. Perhaps the major finding to emerge from this discussion, however, concerns the leaders and governments of the region themselves and their commitment to pursuing, insofar as that is possible for them, policies that meet their interests and strengthen the stability of their countries and their rule. The US government has seemingly learned that not all of its objectives can be met simultaneously – for example, when the government of Uzbekistan expelled the US from its air base in 2005 because of the latter’s criticisms of its crackdown on political dissidents at the same time that both Russia and China expressed their support for the government of President Karimov in the struggle against the forces of separatism, terrorism, and extremism (Blank, 2005).23 However, despite the growing evidence as recently as spring and summer 2008 that Russia was generally successful in re-establishing its position in the region, such as the new gas and oil agreements and the expulsion of the US from military facilities in Uzbekistan and potentially in Kyrgyzstan, the situation is much more complex than this. Local elites are not simply pawns moved on some geopolitical chessboard by the major powers. The US has seemingly learned that, if it is going to play an important role in developments in the Greater Caspian region, it is going to play, in part at least, by rules established by local political elites. But, the Russians are learning this lesson, as well. Despite all their efforts aimed at tying the Central Asian states, their security and their economies, to Russia, the latter continue to resist Russian initiatives and to pursue their interests in relations with outside actors such as the US and China. Recent examples of this include the refusal to provide the Russians with the type of backing that they wanted after the latter’s military intervention in Georgia; the reversal of the Kyrgyz government’s decision, initially made with Russian encouragement, to expel US troops from the military base at Manas;24 the signing of new gas exploration deals with European states; and the problems that the Russians currently have in getting its neighbours to implement agreements for a combined security force agreed to within the context of the Collective Security Treaty Organisation of the CIS.25

Notes 1. The focus of this chapter will be on the five countries of Central Asia, plus Azerbaijan – with only occasional reference to the two western Caucasian countries of Armenia and Georgia. These are the countries of central concern to the US because of the command of energy resources as well as their geographic location vis-à-vis

Roger E. Kanet 95

2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

7.

8.

Afghanistan and their role in the ‘war on terror’. The author wishes to express his appreciation to Maria Raquel Freire for her critical comments on an earlier version of this chapter. The text was completed before the Ukrainian elections of early 2010 and the dramatic shift in Ukrainian–Russian relations, as well as before the revolutionary upheavals in Kyrgyzstan. The author has made an explicit decision not to examine the role and the political and economic activities of China in Central Asia and the Caucasus, although he is well aware of the importance of those relations in strengthening the ability of local elites to balance their relations between major external actors. The author is referring to the complex negotiations, discussed in some detail below, over the announced expulsion of US troops by Kyrgyzstan, with Russian encouragement, from the base at Manas, followed several months later by the announcement of an extension of the base agreement. It is important to note, as Stephen Blank, Bertil Nygren, Maria Raquel Freire, and others have emphasised in other chapters in this volume, that the US–Russian competition for influence in the region is part of a complex set of political, economic, and security relationships that include the countries of the Greater Caspian region themselves; other major national and international political actors, such as the EU, the OSCE, and China; important regional actors such as Iran and Turkey; as well as multinational corporations and other non-governmental organisations. The ‘Great Game’ for influence of the early twenty-first century makes that of late nineteenth century between Tsarist Russia and the British Empire look simple, by comparison. Among the numerous studies that examine the early years of independence of the countries of the region with a focus on their foreign and security policy, see, in particular, those by Allison and Jonson (2001); Anderson (1997); Aras (2002); Dawisha and Parrott, eds (1997); Menon, Fedorov, and Nodia, eds (1999); and Olcott, Åslund, and Garnett (1999). For an excellent assessment of the restructuring of the NATO alliance system, see Aybet (2000). Christopher Layne (2006, ch. 5) argues that this decision to maintain and expand NATO in post-Cold War Europe was part of a longterm US commitment to maintain its dominant position in European and world affairs. For a current overview of NATO’s involvement in Central Asia, see Ziegler (2009). According to the official NATO website, ‘Cooperation focuses in particular on defence-related work, defence reform and managing the consequences of defence reform, but touches on virtually every field of NATO activity, including defence policy and planning, civil-military relations, education and training, air defence, communications and information systems, crisis management, and civil emergency planning’. http://www.nato.int/issues/pfp/index.html. By 2005, or so, both Ukraine and Georgia had become, with the support of the Bush Administration, active applicants for full NATO membership. This effort was an important element in the drastic deterioration in their relations with Russia that led, in the case of Georgia, to military confrontation in August 2008. For excellent discussions, including maps, of the various pipeline systems that supply Western Europe, see Nies (2008), Barysch (2008), and Mankoff (2009). See also Nies (2009). In testimony to a newly created Senate Foreign Relations Sub-Committee on Central Asia and the Caucasus in December 2001, Assistant Secretary of State Elizabeth Jones (2001) emphasised three sets of long-term interests that the US would continue to pursue in the region: (1) preventing the spread of terrorism; (2) assisting the Central Asian states with economic and political reform and the

96 Russia and the Greater Caspian Basin

9. 10. 11. 12.

13.

14.

15.

16. 17.

18.

19.

establishment of the rule of law, and (3) ensuring the security and transparent development of Caspian energy resources. On Russia’s initial support for US military presence in Central Asia after 9/11, see Jonson (2005). The following discussion draws from Kanet (in press). See, also, President Medvedev’s (2008b) State of the Nation address in November 2008. One should be careful to note that in the Ukrainian–Russian confrontation over gas supplies, as in the Georgian–Russian military conflict in summer 2008 over South Ossetia, Russia alone was not at fault. The leaders of both Ukraine and Georgia contributed significantly to the confrontations. On European reactions to the policies of these countries, see Taylor (2009). For a perceptive analysis of the Ukrainian–Russian gas war, see Petrovicˇ (2009). It is important to recognise that the US decision to pursue a policy of de facto containment of Russia beginning already by the mid-1990s, as noted elsewhere in this chapter, has reinforced Moscow’s concerns for security and for its future role in areas adjacent to Russian territory and viewed as crucial to Russia’s long-term interests. Andrei Tsygankov and Matthew Tarver-Wahlquist (2009) provide a careful and nuanced assessment of the confrontation between Georgia and Russia that focuses on the importance of honour and prestige on both sides and attributes Russian policy, in large part, to the sense of betrayal at the hands of the US and NATO in the post-Soviet period. Bertil Nygren (2007b) argues most persuasively that, since the revival of Russia early in the decade, economic tools have been especially important in Moscow’s relations with neighbouring states. For an excellent discussion of the current role of the CIS in Russian policy, see the chapter by Richard Sakwa in this volume. For an analysis that questions both the neo-imperialist nature of Russian policy under Putin and the effective use of ‘soft power’, see Tsygankov (2006). For more detail on the areas of disagreement between Russia and Ukraine, see Berryman (2009). In Georgia Russia acquired substantial ownership of energy production and distribution facilities to cover the costs of outstanding debts and as a precondition for continued discounted prices on Russian gas. In 2003 the Russian firm UES obtained 75 per cent ownership in a Georgian electricity distribution company and management control over several power plans, as well as 50 per cent ownership of a nuclear power plant. Gazprom acquired control of Georgia’s main gas pipeline in 2005 in return for a restructuring of the latter’s debt. In other words, Russia now directly controls much of Georgia’s energy production and distribution and still serves as the primary source of gas, even after the opening of the new pipeline from Azerbaijan in late 2006. See Khachatrian (2003) and Torbakov (2003). In 2007, after the Estonian government decided to move a Soviet war memorial from the centre of Tallinn to its international military cemetery, Russians, in both Estonia and in the Russian Federation, mounted attacks on the Estonian government in Tallinn and its embassy in Moscow. This was followed by the cutting off of Russian oil and coal deliveries, and a massive cyber attack that virtually closed down the information technology sector of this former Soviet colony. See Dempsey (2007), ‘A Cyber-Riot’ (2007), and The Economist (2007). The first of these, the Baku–Ceyhan oil pipeline, from Azerbaijan on the Caspian via Georgia to the Mediterranean coast of Turkey, opened in May 2005. At the

Roger E. Kanet 97

20.

21.

22. 23.

24.

25.

same time, however, a gas pipeline from Russia to Turkey under the Black Sea also began operating. Sultanova (2005); Arvedlund (2005); and Lantier (2008). The dramatic drop of gas and oil prices in 2008 associated with the global financial collapse has meant that under the terms of long-term contracts Russia is now paying more to Central Asian producers than it can charge to the ultimate consumers in Europe. This development will undercut both short-term profits and longer-term investment possibilities (Kramer, 2009). The planned Nord Stream pipeline under the Baltic Sea directly from Russia to the coast of Germany and the South Stream pipeline that will run under the Black Sea from Russia directly to Bulgaria, will expand Russia’s domination over the gas markets of Europe, while reducing the possibility of countries such as Ukraine, Belarus or Poland disrupting those flows (Intelligence Brief, 2006; Isachenkov, 2008). In an open letter to President Barack Obama twenty-two former presidents, prime ministers, and other officials from Eastern Europe voiced their concern that they might be sold out as the US improves its relations with Russia (Kulish, 2009; Bosacki, 2009). Currently the CSTO membership includes, besides Russia, Armenia, Belarus, Kazakhstan, Tajikistan, and Uzbekistan. In an interesting thesis on the role of the US military in Central Asia, Leon Dockery concludes that, if the US is truly interested in bases in the region, it cannot expect to impose its view of governance on the host state: ‘It is ideological haughtiness (or foolishness) to expect a regime to change just because the United States is present. The desire for security, or stability, in the region has to be stronger than the push for democracy. Security is cemented in control’ (Dockery, 2006, pp. 72, 78). The announcement in early 2009 by the government of Kyrgyzstan that it would not renew the lease to the US for the continued use of the airbase at Manas and that Russia had provided a large new loan, reportedly to encourage the Kyrgyz decision, was the most recent evidence of both Russia’s concern about the continued US presence in Central Asia and its apparent growing influence (Barry and Schwirtz, 2009; Abdrisaev, 2009). However, negotiations continued over the following months and in June – with Russian approval – a new agreement was signed that more than triples the rent paid by the US and will provide substantial additional monetary assistance to the Kyrgyz government (Pannier, 2009). In other words, the Kyrgyz have played the Russians against the Americans and the Americans against the Russians and, in the end managed to get much greater financial commitments from both of them. In an especially interesting article Ellen Barry (2009) concludes that ‘Russia’s strategy for consolidating support in neighboring capitals can hardly be called a strategy’.

References Abdrisaev, Batybek (2009). ‘The Russification of Kyrgyzstan’, Foreign Policy, April. Available at http://www.foreignpolicy.com/story/cms.php?story_id=4810&print=1 (accessed 5 July 2010). Allison, Roy and Jonson, Lena (2001). Central Asian Security: The New International Context. Washington, DC: Brookings Institution Press; London: Royal Institute of International Affairs. Anderson, John (1997). The International Politics of Central Asia. Manchester, New York: Manchester University Press.

98 Russia and the Greater Caspian Basin Aras, Bülent (2002). The New Geopolitics of Eurasia and Turkey’s Position. London, Portland, OR: Frank Cass. Arvedlund, Erin E. (2005). ‘Pipeline Done, Oil from Azerbaijan Begins Flowing to Turkey’, The New York Times, 26 May, p. C6. Aybet, Gülnur (2000). European Security Architecture after the Cold War: Questions of Legitimacy. Houndmills: Palgrave Macmillan. Barnard, Anne (2008). ‘Russians Confident That Nation is Back’, The New York Times, 15 August. Available at http://www.nytimes.com/2008/08/15/world/europe/ 15russia.html (accessed 5 July 2010). Barry, Ellen (2009). ‘Russia’s Neighbors Resist Wooing and Bullying’, The New York Times, 3 July. Available at http://www.nytimes.com/2009/07/03/world/europe/ 03russia.html (accessed 5 July 2010). Barry, Ellen and Schwirtz, Michael (2009). ‘Kyrgyzstan Says it will Close US Base’, New York Times, 3 February. Available at http://www.nytimes.com/2009/02/04/world/ europe/04kyrgyz.html?partner=rss&emc=rss (accessed 5 July 2010). Barysch, Katinka (ed.) (2008). Pipelines, Politics and Power: The Future of EU–Russia Energy Relations. London: Centre for European Reform. Available at http://www.cer. org.uk/pdf/rp_851.pdf (accessed 5 July 2010). Berryman, John (2007). ‘Russia and China in the New Central Asia: The Security Environment’, in Roger E. Kanet (ed.) Russia: Re-Emerging Great Power. Houndmills: Palgrave Macmillan. Berryman, John (2009). ‘Russia, NATO Enlargement and the new “Lands in Between”, in Roger E. Kanet (ed.)A Resurgent Russia and the West: The European Union, NATO and Beyond. Dordrecht, The Netherlands: The Republic of Letters Press. Bhadrakumar, M. K. (2008). ‘Russia Takes Control of Turkmen (World?) Gas’, Asia Times, 30 July. Available at http://www.atimes.com/atimes/Central_Asia/JG30Ag01. html (accessed 5 July 2010). Blank, Stephen J. (2002). ‘Putin’s Twelve-Step Program’, The Washington Quarterly, vol. 25, no. 1, pp. 147–60. Blank, Stephen J. (2005). ‘New Turns in Chinese Policy towards Central Asia’, Central Asia–Caucasus Analyst, 15 June. Available at www.cacianalyst.org/view_article (accessed 5 July 2010). Bosacki, Marcin (2009). ‘Czy to koniec romansu USA z Europa˛ S´rodkowa˛?’, Gazeta wyborcza.pl, 17 July. Available at http://wyborcza.pl/1,75248,6830491,Czy_to_ koniec_romansu_USA_z_Europa_Srodkowa_.html (accessed 5 July 2010). Central Bank (2001). ‘Main Macroeconomic Indicators’, Central Bank of the Russian Federation. Available at http://www.cbr.ru/eng/statistics/credit_statistics/ (accessed 10 January 2010). ‘A Cyber-Riot’ (2007). The Economist, 12 May, p. 55. Dannreuther, Roland (2000). ‘Escaping the Enlargement Trap in NATO–Russian Relations’, Survival, vol. 41, no. 4 (Winter 1999–2000). Dawisha, Karen, and Parrott, Bruce (eds) (1997). Conflict, Cleavage, and Change in Central Asia and the Caucasus. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Dempsey, Judy (2007). ‘EU and NATO Seek to Quell Russia–Estonia Spat’, International Herald Tribune, 3 May. Available at http://www.iht.com/articles/2007/05/03/news/ union.php (accessed 5 July 2010). Dockery, Jr, Leon W. (2006). ‘United States Military Presence in Central Asia: Implications of United States Basing for Central Asian Stability’, thesis, Naval Postgraduate School, Monterey, CA. Available at http://www.dtic.mil/cgi-bin/ GetTRDoc?AD=ADA451764&Location=U2&doc=GetTRDoc.pdf (accessed 5 July 2010).

Roger E. Kanet 99 Ebel, Robert and Menon, Rajan (eds) (2000). Energy and Conflict in Central Asia and the Caucasus. Lanham, MD/New York: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers. The Economist (2007). ‘Bronze Meddling: Russian Hypocrisy and Heavy-Handedness towards a Former Colony’, The Economist, 5 May, p. 65. The Economist (2008). ‘Eastern Europe, America and Russia: Pipedreams’, The Economist, 26 January, p. 50. Felgenhauer, Pavel (2009). ‘Moscow Struggling to Transform CSTO into a “Russian NATO”’, Asia Daily Monitor, vol. 6, no. 107, 4 June. Available at http://virtualcollector.blogspot.com/2009/06/moscow-struggling-to-transform-csto.html (accessed 5 July 2010). Foreign Policy Concept of the Russian Federation (2000). Approved by the President of the Russian Federation V. Putin, 28 June. Available at http:// www.fas.org/nuke/guide/russia/doctrine/econcept.htm (accessed 5 July 2010). Foreign Policy Concept (2008). ‘The Foreign Policy Concept of the Russian Federation: 31.07.2008’, MaximsNews, News Network for the United Nations and the International Community. Available at http://www.maximsnews.com/news20080731 russiaforeignpolicyconcept10807311601.htm (accessed 4 July 2010). Hahn, Melissa (2007). ‘Moscow Achieves Success with Kazakh Oil Deal’, Power and Interest News Report, 29 May. ‘Half of Russians Yearn for Super-Power Status’ (2008). Angus Reid Global Monitor, 4 February; Available at http://www.angus-reid.com/polls/view/half_of_russians_ yearn_for_super_power_status/ (accessed 5 July 2010). Intelligence Brief (2006). ‘Intelligence Brief: Poland Fumes over Russian-German Projects: Meeting in Lithuania to Counter Russian Influence in F.S.U.’, Power and Interest News Report, 2 May. Isachenkov, Vladimir (2008). ‘Russia Strengthens Gas Grip’, MiamiHerald.com, 19 January. Jones, Elizabeth (2001). ‘U.S.–Central Asian Cooperation’, Testimony to the Subcommittee on Central Asia and the Caucasus, Foreign Relations Committee, Senate, 13 December, p. 9. Jonson, Lena (2005). ‘Understanding Russia’s Foreign Policy Change: The Cases of Central Asia and Iraq’, in Jakob Hedenskog et al. (eds), Russia as a Great Power: Dimensions of Security Under Putin. London and New York: Routledge, pp. 182–200. Kanet, Roger E. (2010). ‘From Cooperation to Confrontation: Russia and the United States since 9/11’, in Bertil Nygren, Bo Huldt, Patrik Ahlgren, Pekka Sivonen, and Susanna Huldt (eds), Russia on our Minds. Russian Security Policy and Northern Europe. Stockholm: National Defence College, pp. 61–87. Kay, Sean (2003). ‘Geopolitical Constraints and Institutional Innovation: The Dynamics of Multilateralism in Eurasia’, in James Sperling, Sean Kay, and Victor S. Papacosma (eds) Limiting Institutions: The Challenge of Eurasian Security Governance. Manchester: Manchester University Press. Khachatrian, Haroutiun (2003). ‘Russian Moves in Caucasus Energy and Power Sectors Could Have Geopolitical Impact’, Eurasia Insight, 25 September. Available at http:// www.eurasianet.org/departments/business/articles/eav092503.shtml (accessed 5 July 2010). Kramer, Andrew E. (2007). ‘Central Asia on Front Line in Energy Battle’, The New York Times, 20 December, pp. C1, C6. Kramer, Andrew E. (2009). ‘Falling Gas Prices Deny Russia a Lever of Power’, The New York Times, 16 May. Available at http://www.nytimes.com/2009/05/16/world/ europe/16gazprom.html?_r=1&hp (accessed 5 July 2010).

100 Russia and the Greater Caspian Basin Kulish, Nicholas (2009). ‘Eastern Europe is Uneasy over U.S. Ties with Russia’, The New York Times, 17 July, p. A7. Lantier, Alex (2008). ‘US Oil Pipeline Politics and the Russia–Georgia Conflict’, World Socialist Web Site, 21 August. Available at http://www.wsws.org/articles/2008/ aug2008/pipe-a21.shtml (accessed 5 July 2010). Layne, Christopher (2006). The Peace of Illusions: American Grand Strategy from 1940 to the Present. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press. Levy, Clifford J. (2008). ‘Russia Adopts Blustery Tone Set by Envoy’, The New York Times, 28 August. Available at http://www.nytimes.com/2008/08/28/world/ europe/28moscow.html (accessed 5 July2010) McDermott, Roger (2009). ‘Russia’s Vision in Crisis for CSTO Military Forces’, Eurasia Daily Monitor, vol. 6, no. 125. The Jamestown Foundation, 30 June. Available at http://www.jamestown.org/ single/ ?no_cache=1&tx_ttnews%5Btt_news%5D=35196&tx_ttnews%5BbackPid%5 D=13&cHash=6a44d74897 (accessed 5 July 2010). MacFarlane, S. Neil (1997). ‘On the Frontlines in the Near Abroad: The CIS and the OSCE in Georgia’s Civil Wars’, Third World Quarterly, vol. 18, pp. 509–25. Mankoff, Jeffrey (2009). Eurasian Energy Security. Council Special Report, no. 43. New York: Council on Foreign Relations. Available at http://www.cfr.org/ publication/18418/eurasian_energy_security.html (accessed 5 July 2010). Medvedev, Dmitry (2008a). ‘Medvedev Sets Out Five Foreign Policy Principles in TV Interview’, Vesti TV, 31 August; BBC Monitoring, translated in Johnson’s Russia List, JRL 2008-163, 2 September. Available at http://www.cdi.org/russia/johnson (accessed 5 July 2010). Medvedev, Dmitry (2008b). ‘Russian President Medvedev’s First Annual Address to Parliament’, Rossiya TV, 5 November, translated in Johnson’s Russia List, JRL 2008-#292, 6 November. Available at http://www.cdi.org/russia/johnson (accessed 5 July 2010). Menon, Rajan, Fedorov, Yuri E. and Nodia, Ghia (eds) (1999) Russia, the Caucasus, and Central Asia: The 21st Century Security Environment. Armonk, NY: M.E. Sharpe (with EastWest Institute, New York). Najibullah, Farangis (2008). ‘Russia: Moscow Looks to Expand Military Presence in Central Asia’, Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty, 16 June. Available at http:// www.rferl.org/articleprintview/1144631.html (accessed 6 July 2010). Nies, Susanne (2008). Oil and Gas Delivery to Europe: An Overview of Existing and Planned Infrastructures. Paris: IFRI. Available at http://www.ifri.org/files/Energie/OilandGas_ Nies.pdf (accessed 6 July 2010). Nies, Susanne (2009). ‘EU, Russia, Energy: Cooperation or Confrontation?’, unpublished paper presented at the CISS/ISA Millennium Conference, Potsdam, Germany, 13–15 June. Nygren, Bertil (2007a). ‘Putin’s Attempts to Subjugate Georgia: From Sabre-Rattling to the Power of the Purse’, in Roger E. Kanet (ed.) Russia: Re-Emerging Great Power. Houndmills: Palgrave Macmillan, pp. 107–23. Nygren, Bertil (2007b). The Rebuilding of Greater Russia: Putin’s Foreign Policy toward the CIS Countries. Abingdon: Routledge. Nygren, Bertil (2008). ‘Putin’s Use of Natural Gas to Reintegrate the CIS Region’, Problems of Post-Communism, vol. 55, no. 4, July–August, pp. 3–15. Olcott, Martha Brill (2005). Central Asia’s Second Chance. Washington, DC: Carnegie Endowment for International Peace. Olcott, Martha Brill, Åsland, Anders and Garnett, Sherman W. (1999). Getting it Wrong: Regional Cooperation and the Commonwealth of Independent States. Washington, DC: Carnegie Endowment for International Peace.

Roger E. Kanet 101 Pannier, Bruce (2009). ‘U.S., Kyrgyzstan Reportedly Draft New Deal on Manas’, Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty, 23 June. Available at http://www.rferl.org/content/ US_Kyrgyzstan_Reportedly_Draft_New_Deal_On_Manas/1760682.html (accessed 6 July 2010). People’s Daily Online (2008). ‘Russia Busy with Intense Central Asia Diplomacy’, People’s Daily Online, 4 September. Available at http://english.peopledaily.com. cn/90001/90780/91343/6493220.html (accessed 6 July 2010). Petrovicˇ, Heronim (2009). ‘Farce ums Gas: Russland, die Ukraine und die EU-Energiepolitik’, Osteuropa, vol. 59, no. 1, pp. 19–35. Putin, Vladimir (2005). President’s speech to the Federal Assembly, April 2005. BBC Monitoring. ‘Putin Focuses on Domestic Policy in State-of-Nation Address to Russian Parliament’. Source: RTR Russia TV, Moscow, in Russian, translated in Johnson’s Russia JRL 2005-#9130, 25 April. Available at www.cdi.org/russia/johnson/ (accessed 6 July 2010). Putin, Vladimir (2007). ‘Putin Slams US for Making World More Dangerous’, DWWorld.DE Deutsche Welle, February 10. Available at http://www.dw-world.de/dw/ article/0,2144,2343749,00.html (accessed 6 July 2010). Rivera, David W. (2003). ‘Engagement, Containment and International Politics of Eurasia’, Political Science Quarterly, vol. 118, no. 1. Roeder, Philip G. (1997). ‘From Hierarchy to Hegemony: The Post-Soviet Security Complex’, in David A. Lake and Patrick M. Morgan (eds) Regional Orders: Building Security in a New World. University Park, PA: The Pennsylvania State University Press. Sakwa, Richard and Webber, Mark (1999). ‘The Commonwealth of Independent States, 1991–1998: Stagnation and Survival’, Europe–Asia Studies, vol. 51, no. 3, pp. 379–415. Stratfor (2009). ‘CSTO: Political Bickering and Security Issues’, Stratfor Global Intelligence, 15 June. Available at http://www.stratfor.com/analysis/20090615_csto_ political_bickering_and_security_issues (accessed 6 July 2010). Sultanova, Aida (2005). ‘Pipelines to Speed Flow of Caspian Oil to West’, AP Report, The Miami Herald, 25 May, p. 18A. Taylor, Paul (2009). ‘Europeans Souring on Ukraine, Georgia’, Reuters, 14 January; reprinted in Johnson’s Russia List, JRL 2009-#11, 16 January. Available at http:// www.cdi.org/russia/johnson (accessed 6 July 2010). Torbakov, Igor (2003). ‘Russia Seeks to Use Energy Abundance to Increase Political Leverage’, Eurasia Insight, 19 November. Available at http://www.eurasianet.org/ departments/insight/articles/eav111903.shtml (accessed 6 July 2010). Tsygankov, Andrei P. (2006). ‘If not by Tank, then by Banks? The Role of Soft Power in Putin’s Foreign Policy’, Europe–Asia Studies, vol. 58, no, 7, pp. 1079–99. Tsygankov, Andrei P. and Tarver-Wahlquist, Matthew (2009). ‘Duelling Honors: Power, Identity and the Russia–Georgia Divide’, Foreign Policy Analysis, vol. 5, no. 4, pp. 307–26. Weinthal, Erika (2000). ‘Central Asia: Aral Sea Problem’, Foreign Policy in Focus, vol. 5, no. 6. Available at http://www.fpif.org/reports/central_asia_aral_sea_problem (accessed 6 July 2010). Wishnick, Elizabeth (2009). U.S. Security Interests in Central Asia. Strategic Studies Institute of the US Army War College. Available at https://www.strategicstudiesinstitute.army.mil/pubs/display.cfm?pubID=110 (accessed 6 July 2010). The World Bank in Russia (2008). Russian Economic Report, no. 16, June. Available at http://siteresources.worldbank.org/INTRUSSIANFEDERATION/Resources/rer16_ eng.pdf (accessed 6 July 2010).

102 Russia and the Greater Caspian Basin Yeltsin, Boris (1992). Boris Yeltsin on Russian Television, 1 February, cited in Suzanne Crow, ‘Russian Federation Faces Foreign Policy Dilemmas’, RFE/RL Research Report, vol. 1, no. 10. Available at http://www.rferl.org/newsline/search/ (accessed 6 July 2010). Zhussip, Sultan-Khan (2008). ‘Russia Expands its Military Presence in Central Asia’, Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty, 12 November. Available at http://www.rferl. org/content/Russia_Expands_Its_Military_Presence_In_Central_Asia/1348368.html (accessed 6 July 2010). Ziegler, Charles, E. (2005). ‘Energy in the Caspian Basin and Central Asia’, in Roger E. Kanet (ed.) The New Security Environment: The Impact on Russia, Central and Eastern Europe. Aldershot: Ashgate Publishing, pp. 210–18. Ziegler, Charles E. (2009). ‘NATO, the United States and Central Asia: Challenging Sovereign Governance’, in Roger E. Kanet (ed.) A Resurgent Russia and the West: The European Union, NATO and Beyond. Dordrecht, The Netherlands: Republic of Letters Publishing.

5 Competing for Eurasia: Russian and European Union Perspectives Sandra Fernandes and Licínia Simão

Introduction: Eurasia as the last ‘frontier’ of EU–Russia relations Eurasia has been a permanent concern in geopolitics, informing core theories such as the heartland concept (Parker, 1985). Furthermore, it is linked to the specificity of Russia as a continental power, its encirclement complex, and the fear of hegemonic invasions coming from the Eurasian mainland. Although global politics have evolved a great deal since these conceptions were first developed, Eurasia is regaining a core place in several actors’ interests, especially following 9/11. In the aftermath of the Cold War, bipolarity of the international system has begun to evolve into a more multipolar equilibrium. At the European level, the European Union (EU) and the North Atlantic Treaty Organisation (NATO) have become the main defining elements in the evolution of the post-Soviet space, while Russia has maintained an exceptional and differentiated status. This dual reality also underscores a normative differentiation between the models that Brussels and Moscow embody for social, economic, and political development. Since the re-election of President Putin, rapid changes have introduced new realities, not only in Europe but also in the South Caucasus and in Central Asia. Taking trade and energy as the main areas of cooperation and competition, both Brussels and Moscow are redefining their approaches towards Eurasia. Furthermore, security threats – including ‘unfrozen’ conflicts and terrorism – call for special attention. Besides engaging in cooperative relations, Moscow is a challenging neighbour today, since it aims at engaging regionally in a more consistent, but also confrontational manner. From this situation emerges the question ‘what is Eurasia’? In response, we note that Russian foreign policy is informed by a recurring debate about Russian identity. We highlight here two competing trends: the European and the Eurasian (or Slavophile) perspectives. Moscow is torn between a regular European identity that underlies its policies and a specific course of action that is based on its peculiar Eurasian position and history. Moreover, the 103

104

Competing for Eurasia

debate about the boundaries of the EU and the very nature of Europe is still a vital one, especially when further enlargements are under consideration. In this analysis we will define Eurasia in accordance with the recent policies conducted by the EU and Russia. We note that both Russia and the European Union have redirected their interest towards the South Caucasus and Central Asia. While acknowledging that it is nonetheless possible to define Eurasia more broadly, we will focus our analysis on these two regions.1 The Eurasian landmass is characterised by great diversity in geography, culture, language, and ethnicity. The years of Soviet domination bestowed a common social, political, and economic inheritance in the region, but since independence increasing differences have surfaced, demanding complex and multifaceted policies towards and within the region. Additionally, with the retreat of Russian influence regional and global actors of both a state and non-state nature have identified interests in Eurasia and sought to influence developments at the domestic and regional level. Major issues of contention, from 2006 onwards, included Russia’s assertive use of energy in the ‘near abroad’;2 NATO’s plans to expand to the former-Soviet space and the US presence in Central Asia; and the political and military instability in the former-Soviet space that have resulted from the previous dynamics. We intend to analyse how Russia and the EU compete for influence in Eurasia and how regional dynamics inform this competition. We will focus on external policies, security issues, and energy. In the first section, we treat EU–Russian relations, and their specific approaches towards Eurasia, in order to highlight the differences that have resulted in a reduction of cooperation. In the second section, we will analyse specific disputes concerning energy, since these have gained a high ranking on the political agenda, over the last three years. Moreover, energy competition is an interesting case of a mix of geopolitical, economic, and technical rationales, illustrating the complexities of the current international system. We conclude that competition is the main feature of the EU–Russian relationship in Eurasia and that regional actors have ambiguous positions in this context, thus making the overall outcome a delicate balancing of national interests and the fragile sustaining of transition processes that have rendered the region increasingly unstable.

Understanding the views and defining frameworks EU–Russia relations Since the end of the Cold War the EU and the Russian Federation have developed a unique institutional framework of cooperation. Since 1997 their relationship has been organised under the Partnership and Cooperation Agreement (PCA), and over time developments have both broadened and deepened their relations in a wide array of domains. In response to the evolution of the relationship and to the need to improve its strategic dimension, a new methodology of cooperation has emerged. In 2003 their

Sandra Fernandes and Licínia Simão 105

interaction was reorganised around four ‘common spaces’. These spaces are: (1) a Common Economic Space; (2) a Common Space of Freedom, Security, and Justice; (3) a Common Space of Cooperation in the Field of External Security; and (4) a Common Space on Research, Education, and Culture. Nonetheless, despite the positive developments in the relationship between these two large neighbours, their relations today are under serious pressure. As the broad strategic partnership between the EU and Russia deteriorated, a new pattern of competition emerged (Light, 2008, p. 15). Since the re-election of President Vladimir Putin in 2004, the relationship has been characterised by two paradoxical features. On the one hand, the method and the domains of cooperation are quite advanced, whereas, on the other hand, the quality of the political relationship has deteriorated and the partners have not been able to create a real strategic partnership. Against this paradoxical background of increasing interdependency and tensions, it seems pertinent to assess not only the main characteristics and achievements but also the obstacles in the EU–Russia relationship. Considering that this duality is a fundamental task, in the context of the ongoing reshaping of Europe, because it impacts on core concerns about stability (issue of both ‘soft’ and ‘hard’ security). In the process of restructuring power and roles, the main challenge has been the coming together of former enemies. Enlargement of international organisations with a role in European security represented a geopolitical choice in order to stabilise the continent by spreading guarantees of security, defence, and prosperity in general. Nonetheless, the enlargements of the EU and NATO have not been a solution per se to the problem of relating constructively with Russia. As mentioned, institutional frameworks have been created in order to cooperate with the Russian Federation, which is not, nor is it willing to be, a candidate country. At the same time the EU and Russia have both adapted and transformed internally quite rapidly. They are also asymmetric actors in terms of their nature, their interests, and their power. At the core of establishing security is the need to create a real partnership between relevant actors. This need underlies EU–Russian relations, US–Russia, and NATO–Russian relations (Fernandes, 2009). Prospective NATO enlargement into the former-Soviet space (namely to Ukraine and Georgia) has proved to be one of the most conflicting legacies of the Bush Administration, now inherited by President Obama. Relations between Russia and the EU reflected this poor state of Russia’s relations with both the US and NATO and, in turn, it became impossible to find common ground to manage the security threats and the challenges of the common neighbourhood in a constructive way. The war between Russia and Georgia over South Ossetia in the summer of 2008 is the utmost expression of this failure and of the vulnerability of the region to external interference. Despite a comprehensive cooperative dialogue that has produced concrete results mainly in the areas of economics and trade, today the political

106

Competing for Eurasia

results are not satisfactory for either partner. This is particularly noticeable in the third ‘Common Space of External Security’ or, more broadly, in the political difficulty of achieving a renewed partnership (a new agreement to replace the expired PCA, which is now being extended for periods of one year).3 The political context, then, is key to understanding the current difficulties in EU–Russian relations. Concretely, this translates into the necessity to advance further political confidence and more maturity. Even if Western countries have divergent views on the Russian evolution, ‘Russia will matter in the foreseeable future, and that is why it is important to read it right’ (Trenin, 2007, p. 7). On the other hand, Russia has to find a constructive role and place despite the unavoidable fact that Europe is increasingly defined by the EU enlargement process and the European Neighbourhood Policy (ENP), that NATO is still a key player in Europe, and that the EU is embedded in a transatlantic dimension. This is especially important at a moment when the EU is directing its attention to the Black Sea region and to Central Asia and is trying to foster an Eastern Partnership with six former-Soviet republics (Hamilton and Mangott, 2008; Melvin, 2008; ‘Polish–Swedish Proposal’, 2008).4 The aftermath of the Russian intervention in Georgia in August 2008 introduced a significant change in EU–Russian relations. We are still experiencing a very recent ‘history of the present’, to use Timothy Ash’s (2002) term, but the Russian–Georgian war has proven to have a dual impact on these relations. First, the Union reacted energetically in defence of Georgia’s territorial integrity.5 Secondly, the global financial crisis, in conjunction with core interests, reprioritised mutual relations on economic and trade cooperation, with a special emphasis on energy. EU–Russian relations need a balanced assessment. Paradoxically, despite the development of closer relations experienced since the end of the Cold War, the Russian Federation is a more difficult, and perhaps a less cooperative partner, than the uncertain Russia of the 1990s. On the one hand, it is necessary to acknowledge that the status quo is changing and that a more mature relationship should develop – one in which strategic interests are defined in a way to create potential commonly beneficial approaches. This is the case, for instance, for the energy agenda. It appears, then, that the EU has the responsibility to create alternatives that are acceptable to Russia. On its side, Russia also has the responsibility to interact positively and in a less confrontational way with the EU and with its near neighbours. EU policies towards the South Caucasus and Central Asia Official relations between Brussels and the newly independent states of Eurasia began in the early 1990s as part of the stabilisation approach pursued by the European Community (EC). Based on humanitarian aid and technical assistance programmes, the goal was to maintain stability in the context of a power vacuum after the demise of Soviet political structures,

Sandra Fernandes and Licínia Simão 107

and to address the instability generated by the conflicts in the region. Reflecting the good relations developed from the mid-1980s with Gorbachev and the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, the EC responded positively to the reform potential displayed by some Central and Eastern European states, adopting a ‘carrot and stick’ strategy (Allen, 1997, pp. 221–2). However, while this strategy reinforced a sense of autonomy and eventually of independence vis-à-vis Moscow in the former European clients of the USSR, the lack of a strategy towards the Eurasian landmass contributed to Moscow’s leadership in managing security and political developments in its ‘near abroad’. Western European perceptions of the region were divided between assisting the newly independent states of Eurasia to manage their political and economic transitions, including in conflict management issues, and the lack of ability and will to assume responsibility in guaranteeing that the second largest nuclear weapons’ state would not be destabilised by neighbouring instability in the South Caucasus and Central Asia (Wyllie, 1997, p. 73). Overall, relations developed more closely with Russia, thereby shaping Western European perceptions of the former Soviet space. EC assistance to the Soviet Union and its successor states became the main tool for bilateral relations, through the PHARE and TACIS aid programmes.6 The distinction between Central and Eastern European countries, which had prospects of Euro-Atlantic integration, and the post-Soviet space, which lacked this prospect, symbolised the creation of a new mental border of great importance for Europe’s political reorganisation (Allen, 1997, p. 222). Both in the Caucasus and in Central Asia disturbing events took place in the immediate aftermath of the collapse of the Soviet Union. As early as the spring of 1991 Armenia and Azerbaijan had engaged in all-out war over the territory of Nagorno-Karabakh, and in 1992 Georgia was being ravaged by civil war, with two secessionist conflicts in the separatist regions of Abkhazia and South Ossetia. The response of the EU (and the US) was a paradox of inability to get engaged (the Western agenda was already crowded with the Central and Eastern European countries’ demands for accession to the EU and NATO and the crisis in the former Yugoslavia) and fear of leaving Moscow’s presence in Eurasia unchallenged, inadvertently signalling tacit support for that same approach in Eastern Europe and the Baltic states. The compromise was the support for Russian-led peacekeeping forces in the conflicts in Moldova and the South Caucasus, while the EU and the US would focus on the Balkans, and keep a limited presence through the Organisation for Security and Cooperation in Europe (OSCE) in the region. Central Asia represented a more complex scenario for the West. This remote and isolated region was important in creating an arch of stability between Russia and the radical Islamic movements gaining strength in Afghanistan and some parts of the Middle East. This was a shared concern of Russia and their European and North American partners. However, the independence of these states made their concerns and political choices a

108

Competing for Eurasia

central element in the region. From the apparent unity bestowed by the Soviet presence in Central Asia a new diversity of interests and challenges emerged. For instance, Kazakhstan became the first Muslim nation with nuclear weapons, and its strategic position in the Caspian area made it a rising star in cooperation with the West and a centre of dispute for influence with Russia (Rashid, 1994, pp. 234–5). Nevertheless, illustrating the low level of relations between the EU and the region, the bilateral EU–Turkmenistan and EU–Tajikistan PCAs are still pending ratification, even after the EU developed a new strategy for Central Asia (Council of the European Union, 2007). The negotiation of bilateral agreements (PCAs) between the EU and the South Caucasus and Central Asia in 1999 aimed at creating a platform for dialogue on political and economic issues, and eventually contributing to the fostering of regional cooperation. Early EU initiatives also include the TRACECA and INOGATE programmes,7 aimed at developing transport and energy corridors linking Europe to the Caspian and Central Asian reserves and to promote regional integration of the pipeline systems, working both as a catalyst for regional cooperation and as a confidence-building measure, much needed in a setting of instability (Simão and Freire, 2008). As part of a strategy of Europeanisation of the South Caucasus the three states became part of the OSCE in 1992 and of the Council of Europe in 1999 (Georgia) and 2001 (Armenia and Azerbaijan). Since 2001, a series of actions led to the revision of the EU’s approach to the South Caucasus (Lynch, 2003b; Vieira and Simão, 2008). Recognising that there had been little or no advances in conflict resolution and regional cooperation, the EU decided to include the three South Caucasian states in the European Neighbourhood Policy in 2004 (European Commission, 2004), and set in motion a long-term and comprehensive strategy that could assure regional stability through sustained reforms and increased integration into the EU. This policy was designed by the European Commission, although member states’ engagement in crucial areas such as visa facilitation and trade concessions would prove to be a necessary stimulus to engage the neighbours of the Caucasus in the ENP process (European Commission, 2006b). The development within the EU of new strategic outlooks and new capabilities8 also placed the Union in a favourable position to assume a greater role in the South Caucasus and in Central Asia. Responding to pressures on energy resources, migration flows, and organised criminal networks, as well as a wider interest in the non-proliferation of nuclear weapons and the containment of terrorist networks (Council of the European Union, 2003), the EU developed new instruments and policies reaching out to new geostrategic areas and new policy realms. Overall, however, the management of regional relations rests on a dilemma for the EU: should the EU follow a stabilisation approach, as it had done in the Balkans, or should it make the ENP a pre-accession mechanism? The divisions within the EU on how

Sandra Fernandes and Licínia Simão 109

to relate with the states of Eurasia and on how to take account of Russia’s interests in the region illustrate the difficulties in finding a proper role for the EU in a somewhat overcrowded area (Lynch, 2003a, p. 15). For the fragile states of Eurasia, foreign policy choices represent a difficult balance between competing powers, coupled with unstable domestic situations. This interconnection between domestic and foreign policy becomes all the more important for regional security, as these regions are fraught with hard and soft security threats in a context of frail sovereignty. Security challenges in this shared neighbourhood should thus be at the heart of EU–Russia relations, namely in the context of the third ‘Common Space of External Security’. Moreover, the EU’s Neighbourhood Policy could also have been a powerful tool for EU–Russia cooperation on the political and economic stabilisation of the states of the South Caucasus. Alternatively, Moscow considered the framework as inappropriate in its relations with the EU, and today there is little cooperation to address challenges in a concerted way. The main legacy disturbing cooperation on political issues in the common neighbourhood are the democratic revolutions that took place in Georgia (2003), Ukraine (2004), and Kyrgyzstan (2005). While Russia did not oppose change in principle, it sought to assure that pro-Russian forces remained in power in these strategic neighbours. This served Russia’s foreign policy interests, as well as a domestic need to legitimise concepts of limited (or sovereign) democracy. EU support for the new Georgian and Ukrainian leaders, although increasing after 2004, remained short of expectations. In both countries full integration into NATO and the EU was, and is, regarded as the only assurance of security and national sovereignty. This led to increasing inconsistencies in the EU’s normative foreign policy. Moreover, armed conflict in the neighbourhood presented the EU as a weak player unable to address the short-term needs of these actors.9 Russian policies towards the South Caucasus and Central Asia Russian foreign policy has been impacted by the domestic evolution of the country in the aftermath of the end of the Cold War, ranging from the declarations of independence of former Soviet republics to the constitutional arrangements leading to a presidential system of government. It has, then, also been shaped distinctively by the presidency of Yeltsin (1993–9), followed by those of Putin (2000–8) and Medvedev (2008–present). Some recurring features have emerged: the ‘near abroad’,10 which includes Eurasia, has a peculiar status in the Russian perspective, NATO is perceived as a threat, and many of the geopolitical outcomes of the 1990s are viewed as largely negative developments that must be reversed (Fernandes, 2006, pp. 65–83). In addition, it is possible to distinguish further between two periods in the Russian perception of its influence on global affairs and its special

110

Competing for Eurasia

positioning towards the ‘near abroad’. Until 2006, Russia perceived itself as a weak actor only able to react to the initiatives of others. Even if one can locate the resurgence of Russia back to the second mandate of former President Putin, this was based on discourses and improved economic performances. Actions and capacity to influence desired outcomes has been materialised later, from 2006 onwards (first ‘gas war’).11 Moscow has experienced a significant improvement of its capacity to oppose some crucial decisions in the last three years. Since then, a noticeable ‘return’ has been orchestrated by the Kremlin. It is interesting to highlight that the event that marked the culmination of a new paradigm for the relations of Moscow with the West occurred in Georgia, in August 2008, as mentioned above. The other visible issue that is causing a reassessment of relations with Russia is energy disputes (discussed below). During the 1990s Russian foreign policy was largely European-oriented, based on the existence of a European ideal that included a core presumption that Washington could lately be put aside from European affairs. This trend lasted until the beginning of the first term of former President Putin. Moscow considered that there was a trade-off between the EU and NATO, at least from a long-term perspective: ‘more EU’, namely the deepening of integration in the realm of CFSP/ESDP, would result in ‘less NATO’ and, as a result, in more autonomy towards the US (Baranovsky, 2002; Fernandes, 2006, pp. 74–83). Lindley-French (2003, p. 181) underlined that, after the Cold War, NATO tried to become more political, while the EU tried to become more military. Nevertheless, EU’s role and evolution was perceived as a possible alternative to NATO (and the US) in Europe, a stand rooted in Gorbachev’s idea of a ‘common European house’. Vladimir Putin made a similar appeal in September 2001 in his address to the Bundestag (Putin, 2001). NATO still represents a challenge to Russian interests, despite the seeming modus vivendi negotiated in establishing the NATO–Russia Council, for instance. Moscow has experienced a significant improvement of its capacity to oppose some crucial decisions in the last three years. Furthermore, in 2008, President Medvedev launched a debate about the need to reshape the European security architecture (Medvedev, 2008a). The Medvedev proposal has to be put in the perspective of a new Russian policy formulated in an ad hoc discursive manner. This policy was presented by Putin, in Munich (Putin, 2007), and then formalised into a doctrine in July 2008. In 2000 the Russian Federation approved an official security doctrine (Russia’s National Security Concept, 2000), which is challenged by these recent developments. In practice, this official doctrine has been replaced informally by Putin’s comments in Munich, followed by Medvedev’s proposal in 2008. The current president continues his predecessor’s assertive approach to relations with other states and his rejection of NATO’s key role in Europe. Nonetheless, his attitude has been more balanced. In May 2008, his speech in Berlin appealed for

Sandra Fernandes and Licínia Simão 111

the creation of a new European security pact but without specifying how it might be structured. Since then he has been repeating his invectives against the alleged American unilateralism and the US responsibility for the global financial crisis. He also underlined the Russian ‘overture’ to design a new legal framework suited for a multipolar world. In Evian on 8 October 2008 he stressed that ‘the Euro-Atlantic vision today needs a positive agenda. The events in the Caucasus have only confirmed how absolutely right the concept of a new European security treaty is today. It would give us every possibility of building an integrated and solid system of comprehensive security’ (Medvedev, 2008c). On 31 July, a Presidential decree was formally endorsed clarifying the signs of change previously visible (The Foreign Policy Concept of the Russian Federation 2008), as underlined above. More recently, Russia approved another document that officially complements the previous one. On 13 May 2009, President Medvedev signed an executive order on the security strategy of the Federation (‘National Security Strategy of the Russian Federation through to 2020’, 2009). In concrete terms, several interrelated security issues have been opposed by Russia, with some success, namely the US plans to install a missile defence shield in Europe, NATO enlargement to Ukraine and Georgia, and further Western involvement in the ‘near abroad’. The European responses so far highlight the fact that, contrary to what happened in the 1990s, Europe is now taking into account Russia’s renewed capacity to influence its decisions. Since the 1990s, Russia has recurrently challenged transatlantic relations and their impact on European security. The case of the disintegration of former Yugoslavia and particularly NATO’s bombing of Serbia in 1999 are still vivid in Russian memories of past frustrations deriving from the imposition of undesired policies. The EU has not been factoring in these perceptions and has not provided a serious dialogue with Moscow on core thinking about transatlantic relations and European security. Brussels has invested much more effort in ensuring economic cooperation with Russia, even though there has been no agreement on the terms of reciprocity for key markets, such as energy. In this context Russia has played on its relations with Central Asia in order to emphasise its role in issues such as the war in Afghanistan, to balance the US missile shield goals by proposing an alternative radar in Gabbala (Azerbaijan), and to secure energy supplies (by the renegotiation of gas prices with the Central Asian Republics). As far as the South Caucasus is concerned, the existence of protracted conflicts in the region and the border concerns related to Chechnya12 have complicated matters since 1991. Arif Yunusov (2007, pp. 34–5) comments about the weak Russian role in South Caucasus in 1992: They [the CIS countries, in particular the republics of the South Caucasus] were perceived as an economic and social burden for Russia and in mid

112

Competing for Eurasia

1992 Andrei Kozyrev even suggested that Russia leave the region. . . . The role of the Russian militaries noticeably increased in the region, and they often played the roles of politicians. As a result, there emerged a paradoxical situation, although quite natural for Russia in that period, where matters of Russian foreign policy in the South Caucasus were dealt with not so much by Foreign Minister Andrei Kozyrev, as by Defence Minister Pavel Grachev! Today, after its intervention in Georgia and its recognition of the independence of Abkhazia and South Ossetia on 26 August 2008, Russia has managed to strengthen its military presence. In the area of energy distribution Russia has altered the regional balance of power without having damaged energy infrastructures.13 Because of railways damaged during the fighting BP took the decision to stop its production for a day and a half in order to protect its employees threatened by an eventual move of Russian troops.14 Likewise, Azerbaijan also requested Moscow to preserve its infrastructures in Georgia. In this way, the Kremlin demonstrated that it could affect energy flows without prejudicing pipelines. Moreover, Russia reaffirmed itself as an option for the producing countries of the region, including Azerbaijan. Following the EU’s hesitation to back the Nabucco pipeline with relevant financial means, President Aliyev decided to enter negotiations with Moscow on a contract to buy all Azerbaijani gas production, still under discussion (Ria Novosti, 2009). The Georgian crisis has provoked a reassessment of the various countries’ positioning. Azerbaijan is doing a dance between the West and Russia. . . . Until now, there was an unspoken consensus. Georgia was with the West, Armenia was an outpost of Russia, and Azerbaijan was in the middle. But with the war in Georgia, Russia burst back into the region. . . . It was a sobering sight for former Soviet states, and one that is likely to cause countries like Azerbaijan to recalibrate their policies. Tavernise, 2008 The Kremlin also improved its relations with Kyrgyzstan in early 2009 in several domains, including the offer of a $2 billion economic assistance package (Kramer, 2009). President Bakiyev reciprocated with the announced closure of the US military base in Manas, a decision that was later reversed. Furthermore, the authoritarian regime is backed by Kremlin support on how to construct a ‘sovereign democracy’ (Ryzhkov, 2009). The creation of the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation (SCO) in 2001 further illustrates the Russian interest in developing privileged regional relations with China, Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan, and Tajikistan. The SCO has been willing to balance the West, as during the March 2009 summit in Moscow

Sandra Fernandes and Licínia Simão 113

(Pertusot, 2009). The agenda of the meeting mirrored the NATO summit of April 2009, putting an emphasis on solutions for the Afghan theatre. It was also the first official encounter between NATO and the SCO. A possible synthetic approach? EU policies for Eurasia, in the context of the ENP, have been described as representing a centre–periphery approach (Coppieters, 2003), which supports a conceptualisation of European integration as a model of concentric circles (Wæver, 1997). This perception is illustrated by the EU’s stabilisation approaches in the Balkans and the development of policies of proximity, such as the Neighbourhood Policy and a policy directed at the ‘neighbours of the neighbours’,15 in Central Asia. However, EU approaches to Eurasia suffer from two interrelated problems. First, the EU is not a traditional foreign policy actor, with the result that any EU external policy must be designed from divergent perceptions among the European institutional and national actors. This has led to ‘wars for influence’ between the European Commission and the Council and to increasing divisions between member states on how best to achieve EU interests in the Eastern neighbourhood (Grabbe, 2004), particularly on how to manage relations with Russia. Second, the EU has refrained from defining a purely geostrategic policy for the neighbourhood, looking instead to find its value added in the promotion of a normative approach based on the values of democracy, rule of law, and respect for human rights and individual freedoms. Such positioning has safeguarded the EU from entering the competitive politics of Eurasia, portraying it as a reliable and dependent partner, but simultaneously it has led to highly unfulfilled expectations among neighbours and partners (Vieira and Simão, 2008). Elites and governments in the Caucasus and Central Asia rely on strategic calculations of interest and balance of power politics and resist socialisation processes into EU political values. Moreover, the lack of a clear strategy towards the region that takes account of the EU’s interests has damaged the Union’s external image, portraying it as a weak player. Furthermore, EU–Russian relations impact on how each actor positions itself towards Eurasia. There are difficulties in cooperating in this area, which corresponds roughly to the ‘common neighbourhood’, ‘near abroad’, or ‘post-Soviet space’. The varying terminology reflects diverging understandings. Even if the pragmatists in the EU institutions (namely, in the European Commission) accurately stress the need for going forward with existing cooperation and intensive business activities, this should not prevent the recognition that EU–Russian relations are facing an ideological moment. Russia views the overall ENP as interference in its ‘near abroad’. This is less problematic than the engagement of NATO or the US (for example, the missile defence project) in Central and Eastern

114

Competing for Eurasia

Europe, but it nevertheless provokes a will to reassert Russian power and sovereignty. Globally, EU post-enlargement ambitions in the common neighbourhood are those of a postmodern actor,16 in contrast to the traditional Russian sovereign prerogatives. Instead of becoming an idealised European partner, Russia is becoming, in the EU perspective, a challenging foreign policy actor. If we consider the 2004 crisis surrounding the presidential election in Ukraine, we can also identify a pattern in the divergence of views between the EU and Russia on post-Soviet space. Despite disagreement over the Ukrainian crisis, no diplomatic rupture occurred at the Hague Summit that year. The real obstacle at the time was the notion of ‘common neighbourhood’. Brussels wanted to introduce this concept into the Road Maps to concretise the Third Common Space (see above). It was pointed out at the time that ‘Russia is suspicious of the EU’s push to regard countries such as Ukraine as a “common neighbourhood” for which the two sides share a measure of responsibility’ (Dombey and Ostrovsky, 2004). The interests of the two sides were in fact different. For the EU the challenge was to stabilise its external border in the context of the Wider Europe, through the democratisation of Ukraine, Moldova, and to a certain extent Belarus. For Russia, in addition to historical reasons, it was about the affirmation of its post-imperial characteristics and mostly about the need to avoid reinforcing the notion of a ‘club’ to which it does not belong and which is growing and rebalancing the European equilibrium. Moscow faces the uncomfortable situation of the loss of former allies and seeks to maintain a relevant position in a Europe that is more and more defined by the EU. A compromise that deals with these differences was found in 2005 in the wording of the Road Map for the Third ‘Common Space of External Security’. The adopted formulation concerning crisis management was ‘regions adjacent to’: ‘they will give particular attention to securing international stability, including in the regions adjacent to the EU and Russia borders’ (Council of the European Union, 2005, p. 35). We can synthesise the differences about these ‘adjacent regions’ by comparing two concepts that reveal two different world visions: ‘zone of influence’ for the Kremlin versus ‘neighbourhood policy’ for the EU. Moscow reacts with reticence to the latter and to the fear of a domino effect caused by the ‘colour revolutions’ (the democratisation and Europeanisation of Ukraine and Georgia, and the European aspirations of Moldova) because of its sovereign sensibility and its assumed prerogatives towards its ‘near abroad’. As mentioned previously, the process of European integration carried out by the EU embodies postmodern values of relative sovereignty. This is not in line with traditional principles of international politics, more visible in the Russian concept of sovereignty. The renewed interest of the Union towards Eurasia is encouraging Moscow to re-evaluate the added value of its European choices, which brings new pressure on the relationship and on separate policies towards these countries.

Sandra Fernandes and Licínia Simão 115

At the core of competition: The energy issue Since Putin took power Moscow began a process of self-reassertion in the international scene. One of the main factors that has permitted this has been its economic performance and the income from energy production and exports. This shift reveals a stronger Russia and is fundamental for its image and perception as a world power, especially after the frustrations of the Yeltsin period. It can be taken for granted that Russia is an unavoidable partner to deal with security issues in Europe and that there is a strong interdependence between the EU and Russia. Yet, this relationship is asymmetric and, even if Russia is geopolitically important for the EU and the US, it is also itself very dependent on the EU, at least in the economic field. The use of energy leverage as a central instrument of foreign policy reveals a Russian strategic orientation, contrary to what has been perceived as a lack of coherence and consistency in the Kremlin’s foreign policy choices. The method used to advance positions towards transit countries such as Ukraine or Belarus is criticised by the EU (gas supplies cuts). Nonetheless, even if it is arguable that Moscow uses its energy resources as a means to advance political objectives, it is not accurate to see Europe simply as a dependent party since Russia also needs European markets. The January 2009 crisis revealed further this state of affairs. The management of this interdependency is nonetheless political. Until now EU member states have preferred to pursue bilateral solutions, undermining EU policy consistency. Energy has been highlighted since 2006 because Russia seeks to recoup the income from energy production and distribution, which was partly managed by foreign companies. For instance, in the oil and gas fields of Sakhalin-2 and Stockman, Moscow has been willing to prevent foreign companies from controlling the extraction and the profits by renegotiating the exploration contracts on terms more favourable to themselves. This recent move consists in preventing these firms from becoming the main investors in the fields, although expressing a nationalist will against the previous imposition of frustrating economic policies. Even if the process is criticised for being an instrumentalist use of the state by the oligarchs, it is nonetheless a common aspiration for all domestic actors. The acknowledgment of this basic fact seems today easier because energy is high on the agenda for desired cooperation and because the EU has made progress in creating a common energy policy. As early as the year 2000, the European Commission took the lead in this field, namely through its Green Paper on a European strategy for security of energy supply (European Commission, 2000), the establishment of the Energy Community Treaty in 2006, and the INOGATE programme. Recently the backing of Électricité de France by the French state in order to purchase an important Belgian gas company shows that, without strong enforcement by the European Commission of the rules concerning competition, member states would totally control big deals in

116

Competing for Eurasia

this area. This is precisely the charge brought against the Kremlin – the fact that Moscow protects national interests when strategic sectors of the economy are involved. If multilateralism does not work for the moment concerning energy policy, it is, then, difficult to argue against Russia’s and member states’ preference for bilateral negotiations. Political will is then crucial to define common interests in a highly competitive domain of sovereignty, even if cooperation is needed for long-term stability in energy security. The fact that NATO is willing to discuss energy security problems – even if for the time being the Alliance is not advancing a specific role on the issue – is also politically sensitive between member states and in relations with the EU and Russia (Monaghan, 2008). The lack of an integrated EU energy policy impedes the organisation’s ability to speak with one voice on the subject. Since the pipeline routes cross various countries, the EU as well as Russia wants more to exercise greater influence over the policies of the transit countries, preferring, then, to explore alternatives in friendly countries.17 Thus, Germany, along with Russia, will probably construct a $5,000 million pipeline under the Baltic Sea and avoiding Poland (Northstream). As mentioned above, these bilateral agreements undermine the prospects for a coherent and integrated energy policy at the EU level. Italy also opened its distribution market to Gazprom in exchange for guaranteed supplies. The biggest pipeline project today is Russian and it seeks to link the south of Russia to Italy through the Black Sea (3,200 km). Austria, Greece, Serbia, Hungary, and Bulgaria have already signed agreements to support this project. The Southstream project competes with the Nabucco project supported by Washington and Brussels, which would bring gas from Central Asia and the Middle East to Europe via Turkey. These moves are consistent with Gazprom’s long-term strategy: it assures itself monopolies in national economies.18 As Delcour and Verluise (2009) emphasise, Brussels and Moscow have taken divergent approaches since 2006. The Union pursues the goal of a market-ruled and transparent energy sector, with the Barroso Commission set on developing an energy partnership with Russia as a fundamental pillar of an EU common energy policy (European Commission, 2006a); whereas Russia seeks to protect a strategic sector for the development of the Federation. Individually, some member states have preferred to secure their levels of consumption and downgrade relations between Russia and the European Commission to technical issues, thus supporting Russia’s goals. To face this situation, the EU needs both to find alternative suppliers but also alternative pipeline routes that bypass Russian territory, besides the need to agree on a common policy. This is where EU–Russian competition occurs because Moscow is able to offer privileged policies to Central Asia (or to alter the equilibrium in the South Caucasus after the August 2008 war, as mentioned above), thus

Sandra Fernandes and Licínia Simão 117

undermining Brussels’ intention to diversify. Concretely, in March 2008, Russia renegotiated the price of gas bought from Central Asia in order to raise it to European prices (from about $150 to $250 per cubic metre). It represents an increase for European consumers in gas prices coming from Russia. Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan, and Turkmenistan are dependent on Russia to sell their production, since they do not have direct access to the world market ( Jégo, 2008). The Nabucco project aims at changing this situation in which Russian pipelines are essential to bring Central Asian gas to Europe. The recent price offer from Russia is making the Nabucco alternative less attractive for these countries. Furthermore, the Nabucco and Northstream projects and the Southstream route are direct competitors. This competition starts in Central Asia, where extraction is needed to fill the pipes with natural gas. For the time being, Moscow is in a better position and Nabucco is still in limbo because ‘as determined as Europe is to end its reliance on Russian gas, Mr. Putin is equally adamant about extend[ing] it’ (Kramer, 2009). Energy has also been central to redefining relations between Moscow, the West and the states of Eurasia, especially in the context of increased competition for resources developing around the Caspian basin. The Baku–Tbilisi–Ceyhan (BTC) oil pipeline and the Baku–Tbilisi–Erzurum gas pipeline were completed in 2006, conferring on the EU real interests and stakes in the Caucasus and Central Asia. The BTC was presented as the backbone of EU relations with the South Caucasus, making stability in Azerbaijan and Georgia a central concern in Brussels and Washington. Furthermore, negotiations for the development of a Trans-Caspian pipeline that would feed into the Nabucco pipeline have increased competition for access to resources around the Caspian. As mentioned, China has been actively entering the ‘great game’ developing in Eurasia. Three main issues are at the heart of China’s engagement: security concerns mainly justified by the 3,300 kilometres common border with Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, and Tajikistan; energy supply; and commercial and transportation interests (Liao, 2006). Chinese relations with Azerbaijan have a great potential to enter a strategic phase, boosted by energy cooperation in the Caspian. The Azerbaijani State Oil Company (SOCAR) has authorised Chinese companies to operate in the country’s onshore oil fields (Ismailzade, 2007, p. 31), raising Chinese stakes in the region. China is also taking the lead in Kazakhstan, where it is building a pipeline and controlling a quarter of oil production ( Jégo, 2008) and is in active negotiations with Turkmenistan as well. Iran is also a central player around the Caspian. In spite of the current obstacles to Tehran’s inclusion in regional energy development programmes, Iran has sponsored initiatives aimed at the economic development of the Caspian region (in 1992, during the Economic Cooperation Organisation summit in Tehran, Iran proposed the creation of a multilateral intergovernmental initiative that would lead to the creation of a Caspian Sea Cooperation Organisation) (Herzig, 2001, p. 182). Nevertheless, the standing issue of the delimitation of the Caspian seabed remains a source of tension.

118

Competing for Eurasia

The impact of the ongoing financial and economic crisis on Gazprom (largest world gas producer and third largest company in the world) is useful to understand the importance of Eurasia in the competition for energy. The huge ambitions of this gas giant are proportional to its income. Nonetheless, its needs for investment create significant debts (Financial Times, 2008), which the responsibility to honour contracts to buy gas from Central Asia at high prices potentially increases. The current economic crisis has revealed this restriction, since the company had to resort to credit to finance projects. The firm faces huge investment demand because it has to honour the volumes guaranteed to consumers, besides the need to explore new fields. Technically, these projects are difficult because they are located in Siberia or in the polar area. Even if Gazprom has governmental support and income from exports, its access to credit has been limited by the crisis. It becomes, then, clearer that Russia has a strong interest in Azerbaijani gas and that the South Caucasus and Central Asia are strategically important for Moscow. The ‘arm-wrestling’ between Kiev and Moscow on gas prices and delivery to Europe reveals another aspect of the issue: from extraction locales to transit countries, the Kremlin does look for a position in the Eurasian space and uses the energy asset politically in its frustrated relationship with Europe and the post-Soviet space.

The way forward: Growing competition and the need for cooperation This chapter has sought to illustrate the complex relations between the EU and Russia and the impact of these dynamic processes in the Eurasian region, as well as on the bilateral relations between Moscow and Brussels. We have emphasised the competitive character of the relationship and the mismatches of perception and approaches that negatively impact on this relationship, but have also pointed to the importance of addressing the need for cooperation. As Freire (2007, p. 79) has put it, ‘a rapprochement should be sought through inclusion, not in the sense of formal integration, but more of non-exclusion from existing processes and organisational dynamics’. Owing to lack of will or ability to create solutions where Russia’s peculiarities would not stand in the way of institutional cooperation, the EU has been perceived as inward-looking and too reliant on the US to manage relations with its biggest neighbour. The failures of the Bush Administration to develop a strategic dialogue with Moscow and its advances (through NATO and bilaterally) into Russia’s ‘backyard’ had profound repercussions on the Europeans, which have been mainly reactive and ill-prepared to address classic strategic issues. This does not mean that the EU cannot be a strategic actor. The most visible strategic impact of the EU has been the enlargement processes, consolidating a ‘security community’ throughout the European continent

Sandra Fernandes and Licínia Simão 119

(Deutsch, 1957). This has been done through the diffusion of norms and values, as well as by means of financial and economic incentives (including accession and stabilisation policies as well as the Neighbourhood Policy). Today the EU is an actor to reckon with at the global level, and a structuring actor when it comes to European issues. For Russia this is not so much the problem. The main issue standing in the way of sound relations between these two actors is their different nature and the necessarily different approaches and visions they support. For the EU, economic cooperation is a central element of its perceptions of international relations, and of the role of states. These should be providers of public goods to their citizens, including peace, prosperity, and personal development. The process of European integration seeks to achieve these objectives in a highly interdependent world where states’ sovereignty would be limited by supranational institutions. Today the EU embodies these principles in certain external policy areas such as trade and development and cooperation, where decision-making has gradually moved towards qualified majorities. As far as security, defence, and energy are concerned, member states have been reluctant to increase the European Commission’s powers or to abdicate unanimity in decisionmaking procedures. Russia stands at the opposite end of the spectrum. A federal state emerging from the collapse of a centralised system of government is looking to preserve its sovereignty and its national identity and sees balances of power at the heart of global stability. Moreover, although Russia is a European state, it is not just that. It looks at other competing models of development as references to overcome the catastrophes and hardships of the 1990s. China is today a leading example for Moscow of how autocracy and economic growth can go together and provide respect at the international level (Kagan, 2008, p. 90). This lack of common ground makes foreign policy in Eurasia a difficult balance, shaped and shaping domestic policies to a profound level. Political leaders in the former-Soviet space are in a situation in which they have to make choices on the model of social, political, and economic development they endorse and, thus, chose between two models that appear to be incompatible. This logic has brought a great deal of instability to these regions, including ‘gas wars’, military intervention, and political revolutions. Such instability might, however, engender a new approach. Positive signs have come from the new US Administration that a ‘reset’ in bilateral relations with Moscow would be possible and necessary, in order to address crucial issues such as preventing nuclear proliferation, reaching a new strategic arms agreement, and combating terrorism (Commission on U.S. Policy toward Russia, 2009). President Medvedev has also been prolific in discourses that suggest the development of a new security treaty in Europe, where the Russian-led organisations such as the CSTO and the CIS could take part. His proposal has been received with caution in western capitals,

120

Competing for Eurasia

as it is not clear what would happen to NATO or the OSCE in the context of a new treaty. As for the EU, while it deals with the failure of the Lisbon Treaty to be ratified by all member states, it is seeking to develop its policies towards neighbouring states in response to fears in the Eastern neighbourhood that the EU would disengage from the region, after Russia’s display of power in South Ossetia in 2008. The Eastern Partnership is the newest policy of the EU for the Eastern neighbours and brings together six former-Soviet states. The goal is to deepen bilateral political and economic relations (association agreements and free trade), as well as to further regional cooperation through a series of multilateral approaches (European Commission, 2008). As the financial crisis that hit the global markets in late 2008 demands attention and resources from governments to address domestic issues, the EU will be less available to commit substantial funds, comparable to previous enlargement processes. Moreover, the political mood in many European capitals is not supportive of that idea. So we can expect the EU to work its bureaucratic way into Eurasia, as well as assuming increasing security functions such as border monitoring and peace-building missions. Russia would most probably prefer a European presence that it knows it can cope with to a US-led or NATO presence. This could also prove to be fertile ground for cooperation or disagreement, if the basis for EU–Russia relations is not mended. As Václav Havel (2008, p. 81) has put it, ‘the absolutely fundamental difference between the European tradition and other cultures lies in the different notions of time and that is the most fundamental source of the European idea of development and progress. Other cultures, on the contrary, honor the status quo.’ This might be a new time for Eurasia, as the obstacles to peace and prosperity are slowly being overcome; a critical opportunity for Moscow and Brussels to engage in a common project with its neighbours.

Notes 1. It is particularly relevant for any analysis of EU–Russia relations and especially energy issues to include Ukraine, Moldova, and Belarus in a wide conception of Eurasia (matching, to a large extent, the former-Soviet space). 2. The ‘near abroad’ corresponds to the 14 Newly Independent States, which, along with the Russian Federation, had comprised the USSR. This zone of vital interest, or at least sphere of influence, is fundamental in the Russian perception of threats. This perception has been reinforced by President Medvedev (2008b) in August 2008, when he advocated that Russia has ‘special interest regions’, implicitly referring to Georgia as a neighbouring country. 3. Since the enlargement of the EU in 2004, the relationship with Moscow has been more difficult because of divergences among member states on how to deal with Russia. The new EU member states have been particularly active in using the renegotiation of the PCA to exert leverage over Moscow. For an insightful overview of these dynamics, see DeBardeleben (2009). 4. The Eastern Partnership was officially established by the EU, during a summit of heads of state from the 27 EU members states and the participant countries

Sandra Fernandes and Licínia Simão 121

5.

6.

7.

8.

9. 10. 11.

12. 13.

(Armenia, Azerbaijan, Belarus, Georgia, Moldova, and Ukraine), on 7 May 2009, in Prague. It now remains to be seen how the initiative will develop, namely, in its attempts to deepen bilateral cooperation between the EU and the participant countries and to foster regional cooperation, in which Russia and other regional actors could participate. The final declaration of the Prague summit can be found at http://www.eu2009.cz/scripts/file.php?id=46526&down=yes. The EU managed to launch in Georgia an ESDP mission in about one month, which is a unique case of rapid and efficient answer as compared to other missions. It was launched in early October, following the decisions taken during the extraordinary Council of 1 September 2008. Furthermore, the context of summer holidays added additional difficulties to preparing the concept of the civilian mission, which in fact was contributed by the ‘Directorate 8 – Defense issues’ of the Council at an early stage (source in the Council, interviewed in November 2008). Nonetheless, this reaction can be balanced with other evidence. Despite the fact that the new agreement negotiations with Russia were frozen since 1 September, the Council and the Commission continued to cooperate with Moscow in other institutional frameworks. For instance, in October 2008, three Permanent Partnership Councils gathered: at the level of foreign ministers in St Petersburg (on the 28th), on energy in Paris (on the 8th) and on justice and home affairs (on the 15th). PHARE – Poland and Hungary: Assistance for Restructuring their Economies – was created in 1989 to assist Poland and Hungary in their preparations for joining the European Union, and has been extended to ten other candidate countries from Central and Eastern Europe. TACIS – the Technical Assistance to the Commonwealth of Independent States programme – was created by the European Commission in 1991 to provide assistance to the CIS (including also Mongolia). It has now been replaced by the European Neighbourhood and Partnership Instrument, covering all the CIS countries, except the five Central Asian countries, now covered by the EU’s Development Co-operation Instrument. TRACECA – Transport Corridor Europe, Caucasus, Asia – was established in Brussels in 1993 and has currently a permanent office in Baku. INOGATE – Interstate Oil and Gas Transport to Europe – is an EU programme put in place through the INOGATE Umbrella Agreement, signed in 1999. The year 2003 inaugurated a period of increased external activity of the EU with the launching of its first ESDP field missions, followed by several others. For more information, see http://www.consilium.eu. See note 5. See note 2 for details on this concept. The ‘gas wars’ refer to the attempts by Russia to increase gas prices to market levels in countries of the former-USSR, which are central energy-transit countries between Russia and the EU. However, and as argued by Nygren (2008) and Larsson (2007), this carried also a political dimension set on rewarding friend and punishing foe, which eventually led to several energy cuts owing to lack of payment. Although the Commission and the rotating EU presidencies have managed to mediate successful outcomes for these crises, no sustainable and long-term solution has been found; and the latest crisis in January 2009 left EU countries freezing in the winter. For more details on the security links between the North and South Caucasus, see Derluguian (2005) and Cornell and Starr (2006). The Turkish section of the Baku–Tbilisi–Ceyhan pipeline was, nevertheless, damaged during the August war, reportedly owing to attacks from the Kurdistan Workers Party (PKK). See Özcan (2008).

122

Competing for Eurasia

14. Interview with an official of StatoilHydro, based in Baku, Azerbaijan (29 September 2008, Brussels). 15. This concept was put forward by the Commission and concerned primarily Central Asia, which became a priority in the German Presidency of the EU in 2007. See European Commission (2006b, p. 11). For a detailed analysis of this strategy, see Melvin (2008). 16. We use here some elements of Krastev’s definition of European postmodernity: a system of mutual interference in domestic affairs, security based on openness and transparency, and the rejection of the use of force to solve conflicts (Krastev, 2007). 17. Maps of pipelines routes can be accessed at the Oxford Institute for Energy Studies, http://www.oxfordenergy.org. 18. We would like to stress that south-western Europe is less dependent on Russian resources, since it relies mostly on Algerian gas. In 2009, for instance, and consistent with its strategy, Gazprom prepared to buy shares in the Portuguese company Galp Energia through Grupo Amorim. At the time of writing, no public statement had been delivered to inform on the status of ongoing negotiations.

References Allen, David (1997). ‘EPC/CFSP, the Soviet Union, and the Former Soviet Republics: Do the Twelve Have a Coherent Policy?’, in Elfriede Regelsberger, Philippe de Schoutheete de Tervarent and Wolfgang Wessels (eds) Foreign Policy of the European Union: From EPC to CFSP and Beyond. Boulder, CO and London: Lynne Rienner, pp. 219–35. Ash, Timothy Garton (2002). História do Presente. Lisbon: Presença. Baranovsky, Vladimir (2002). Russia’s Attitudes Towards the EU: Political Aspects. Programme on the Northern Dimension of the CFSP. Commission on U.S. Policy toward Russia (2009). The Right Direction for U.S. Policy toward Russia. Washington, DC, March. Coppieters, Bruno (2003). ‘An EU Special Representative to a New Periphery’ in Dov Lynch (ed.) The South Caucasus: A Challenge for the EU. Chaillot Papers, no. 65, December, pp. 159–70. Cornell, Svante E. and Frederick S. Starr (2006). ‘The South Caucasus: A Challenge for Europe’, Silk Road Paper, June. Council of the European Union (2003). European Security Strategy: A Secure Europe in a Better World.Brussels, 12 December. Council of the European Union (2005). 15th EU–Russia Summit. Moscow, 10 May 20058799/05 (Presse 110), p. 35. Council of the European Union (2007). European Union and Central Asia: Strategy for a New Partnership.Brussels, October. DeBardeleben, Joan, (2009). ‘The Impact of EU Enlargement on the EU–Russian Relationship’, in Roger E. Kanet (ed.) A Resurgent Russia and the West: The European Union, NATO and Beyond. Dordrecht, The Netherlands: Republic of Letters Publishing. Delcour, Laure and Pierre Verluise (2009). ‘Regards croisés sur les relations Union européenne–Russie: la dépendance énergétique’, Actualités de la Russie et de la CEI, 12, January. Available at http://www.iris-france.org/docs/pdf/actu_cei/2009-01-19.pdf (accessed 5 July 2010). Derluguian, Giorgi M. (2005). Bordieu’s Secret Admirer in the Caucasus: A World-System Biography. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press.

Sandra Fernandes and Licínia Simão 123 Deutsch, Karl (1957). Political Community and the North Atlantic Area. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Dombey, Daniel and Arkady Ostrovsky (2004). ‘Ukraine Poll Divides EU and Russia’. Financial Times, 26 November. European Commission (2000). Green Paper Towards a European Strategy for the Security of Energy Supply, COM(2000) 769 final. Brussels, 29 November. Available at http:// ec.europa.eu/energy/green-paper-energy-supply/doc/green_paper_energy_supply_ en.pdf (accessed 5 July 2010), European Commission (2004). Communication from the Commission on the European Neighbourhood Policy Strategy Paper, COM(2004) 373 final. Brussels, 12 May. Available at http://ec.europa.eu/world/enp/pdf/strategy/strategy_paper_en.pdf (accessed 5 July 2010). European Commission (2006a). Green Paper A European Strategy for Sustainable, Competitive and Secure Energy, COM(2006) 105 final. Brussels, 8 March. Available at http://ec.europa.eu/energy/strategies/2006/2006_03_green_paper_energy_en.htm (accessed 5 July 2010). European Commission (2006b). Communication from the Commission to the Council and the European Parliament on Strengthening the European Neighbourhood Policy, COM(2006) 726 final. Brussels, 4 December. Available at http://ec.europa.eu/world/ enp/pdf/com06_726_en.pdf (accessed 5 July 2010). European Commission (2008). Communication from the Commission to the Council and the European Parliament, Eastern Partnership, COM(2008) 823 final. Brussels, 3 December. Available at http://eeas.europa.eu/eastern/docs/com08_823_en.pdf (accessed 5 July 2010). Fernandes, Sandra Dias (2006). Europa (In)Segura. União Europeia, Rússia, Aliança Atlântica: A Institucionalização de uma Relação Estratégica. Lisboa: Principia. Fernandes, Sandra Dias (2009). ‘Time to Reassess the European Security Architecture? The NATO–EU–Russia Security Triangle’, EPIN Working Paper, 22 March. Available at http://www.ceps.eu/book/time-reassess-european-security-architecture-nato-eurussia-security-triangle (accessed 5 July 2010). Financial Times (2008). ‘Crisis May Hit Gazprom Refinancing Plans’, Financial Times, 22 October. Freire, Maria R. (2007). ‘Triangulating Power: Russia, Europe and the United States Security Policies and Interests Projection in a Globalizing World’, in Yannis A. Stivachtis (ed.) International Order in a Globalizing World. Aldershot: Ashgate, pp. 65–84. Grabbe, Heather (2004). The Constellations of Europe. How Enlargement will Transform the EU. London: Centre for European Reform. Hamilton, Daniel and Gerhard Mangott (2008). The Wider Black Sea Region in the 21st Century. Washington, DC: Center for Transatlantic Relations. Havel, Václav (2008). To the Castle and Back. London: Portobello Books. Herzig, Edmund (2001). ‘Iran and Central Asia’, in Roy Allison and Lena Jonson (eds) Central Asian Security: The New International Context. London: Royal Institute of International Affairs, pp. 171–98. Ismailzade, Fariz (2007). ‘China’s Relations with Azerbaijan’, China and Eurasia Forum Quarterly, vol. 5, no. 1, pp. 29–34. Jégo, Marie (2008). ‘Menacé par la Chine, Gazprom veut rester maître du gaz en Asie centrale’, Le Monde, 20 March. Kagan, Robert (2008). O Regresso da História e o Fim dos Sonhos. Alfragide: Casa das Letras. Kramer, Andrew E. (2009). ‘Putin’s Grasp of Energy Drives Russian Agenda’, The New York Times, 29 January.

124

Competing for Eurasia

Krastev, Ivan (2007). ‘Russia vs Europe: The Sovereignty Wars’, openDemocracy, 5 September. Larsson, Robert. L. (2007). Russia’s Energy Policy: Security Dimensions and Russia’s Reliability as an Energy Supplier. Stockholm: Swedish Defense Research Agency. Liao, Xuanli (2006). ‘Central Asia and China’s Energy Security’, China and Eurasia Forum Quarterly, vol. 4, no. 4, pp. 61–9. Light, Margot (2008). ‘Keynote Article: Russia and the EU: Strategic Partners or Strategic Rivals?’, Journal of Common Market Studies, vol. 46, Annual Review, pp. 7–27. Lindley-French, Julian (2003). ‘Dilemmas of NATO Enlargement’, in Jolyon Howorth and John T. S. Keeler (eds) Defending Europe: The EU, NATO and the Quest for European Autonomy. New York: Palgrave Macmillan. Lynch, Dov (ed.) (2003a). The South Caucasus: A Challenge for the EU. Chaillot Papers, no. 65, December. Lynch, Dov (2003b). ‘The EU: Towards a Strategy’, in Dov Lynch (ed.), The South Caucasus: A Challenge for the EU, Chaillot Papers, no. 65, December, pp. 171–96. Medvedev, Dmitry (2008a). Speech at Meeting with German Political, Parliamentary and Civic Leaders, Berlin, 5 June. Available at http://www.kremlin.ru/eng/ speeches/2008/06/05/2203_type82912type82914type84779_202153.shtml (accessed 8 June 2009). Medvedev, Dmitry (2008b). ‘Medvedev Sets Out Five Foreign Policy Principles in TV Interview,’ Vesti TV, 31 August; BBC Monitoring, translated in Johnson’s Russia List, JRL 2008-163, 2 September. Medvedev, Dmitry (2008c). Dmitry Medvedev’s Speech at World Policy Conference, Evian, France, October 8, 2008. Available at http://www.natomission.ru/en/society/ article/society/artnews/21/ (accessed 8 June 2009). Melvin, Neil J. (ed.) (2008). Engaging Central Asia: The European Union’s New Strategy in the Heart of Eurasia. Brussels: CEPS. Monaghan, Andrew (2008). Energy Security: NATO’s Limited, Complementary Role, Research Paper, NATO Defence College, Rome, May. ‘National Security Strategy of the Russian Federation through to 2020’ (2009). Available at http://www.scrf.gov.ru/documents/99.html (accessed 8 June 2009). Nygren, Bertil (2008). ‘Putin’s Use of Natural Gas to Reintegrate the CIS Region’, Problems of Post-Communism, vol. 55, no. 4, July–August, pp. 3–15. Özcan, Nihat Ali. (2008). ‘Energy Security and the PKK Threat to the Baku–Tbilisi– Ceyhan Pipeline’, Terrorism Monitor Volume, vol. 6, no. 18, 22 September. Parker, Geoffrey (1985). Western Geopolitical Thought in the Twentieth Century. New York: St Martin’s Press. Pertusot, Vivien (2009). ‘L’OTAN et l’OCS vont-elles établir une vraie cooperation après le sommet de Moscou?’, Analyse du jour, IFRI, 10 April. ‘Polish–Swedish Proposal’ (2008). ‘Polish-–wedish Proposal: “Eastern Partnership”’, 23 May3. CEPS Neighbourhood Watch. Available at http://www.ceps.eu (accessed 8 June 2009). Putin, Vladimir (2001). ‘Die Rede des Prasidenten der russischen Foderation, Herrn Wladimir Putin, im Deutschen Bundestag. Berlin, des 25. September’. Available at http://www.paris-berlinmoscou.org/rede_putin_sept_2001.htm (accessed 8 June 2009). Putin, Vladimir (2007). ‘Speech of the President of the Russian Federation Vladimir V. Putin at the Munich Conference on Security Policy, Germany, February 10’. Available at http://www.ln.mid.ru/brp_4.nsf/0/284B878CA1370C27C32572800033694A (accessed 8 June 2009).

Sandra Fernandes and Licínia Simão 125 Rashid, Ahmed (1994). The Resurgence of Central Asia: Islam or Nationalism? London/ New Jersey: Zed Books. Ria Novosti (2009). ‘Russia–Azerbaijan Gas Deal Would Boost Energy Security – Medvedev’, April 17. Available at http://en.rian.ru/russia/20090417/121182922. html(accessed 8 June 2009). Russia’s National Security Concept (2000). Available at http://www.russiaeurope.mid.ru/ russiastrat2000.html (accessed 8 June 2009). Ryzhkov, Vladimir (2009). ‘The Russia of Central Asia’. The Moscow Times, 17 March. Simão, Licínia and Freire, Maria R. (2008). ‘The EU’s Neighborhood Policy and the South Caucasus: Unfolding New Patterns of Cooperation’, Caucasian Review of International Affairs, vol. 2, no. 4, Autumn, pp. 47–61. Tavernise, Sabrina (2008). ‘A Northern Neighbour Growls, and Azerbaijan Reassesses Its Options’, The New York Times, 23 October. The Foreign Policy Concept of the Russian Federation (2008). Available at http://www. kremlin.ru/eng/text/docs/2008/07/204750.shtml (accessed 8 June 2009). Trenin, Dmitri V. (2007). Getting Russian Right. New York: Carnegie Endowment for International Peace. Vieira, Alena V. G. and Simão, Licínia (2008). ‘The ENP Viewed from Belarus and Georgia’, CFSP Forum, vol. 6, no. 6, pp. 1–6. Available at http://www.fornet.info/ documents/CFSP%20Forum%20vol%206%20no%206.pdf (accessed 5 July 2010). Yunusov, Arif (2007). Azerbaijan in the early of XXI Century: Conflicts and Potential Threats. Baku: Institute for Peace and Democracy. Wæver, Ole (1997). ‘Imperial Metaphors: Emerging European Analogies to Pre-Nation-State Imperial Systems’, in Ola Tunander; Pavel Baev, and Victoria I. Einagel (eds) Geopolitics in Post-Wall Europe. Security, Territory and Identity. Oslo: PRIO, pp. 59–93. Wyllie, James H. (1997). European Security in the New Political Environment. New York: Longman.

6 Russia and China in Eurasia: The Wary Partnership John Berryman

After a brief survey of Russian/Soviet–Chinese relations in historical perspective, the chapter examines the relations of the Russian Federation (RF) and China across the vast Eurasian landmass stretching along the southern flank of Russia from Moldova to Korea. The focus of the analysis is on the perceptions, calculations and interests that have shaped Russia’s interactions with China in Eurasia, but of necessity there will be some treatment of China’s policies.

Russia and China in historical perspective The Russian and Chinese empires Over the centuries relations between the Russian and Chinese empires, two colossal neighbours in the Eurasian heartland, have been difficult. Once freed from the ‘Mongol-Tatar yoke’ in the late fifteenth century, Tsarist Russia advanced swiftly eastward into the huge and relatively empty territories of Siberia and the Far East, bringing it into contact with a severely weakened Chinese empire. Thanks to China’s weakness, deploying relatively modest forces the Russian empire was quickly able to establish its position as a great power in East Asia. By the ‘unequal treaties’ of Aigun (1858), Peking (1860), and Tarbagatai (1864), the Russian empire secured over 1.5 million square kilometres (about 665,000 square miles) of territory from the Manchu empire. The territories were located in Chinese Turkestan and to the north of the Amur River (Priamuriye), and to the east of the Ussuri River (Primoriye), stretching down to Vladivostok, Russia’s new Pacific port, and a 19-kilometre (11 mile) riverine border with Korea (Paine, 1996; Dittmer, 2004a). With the signing of the Russo-Chinese alliance of 1896, Russia was able to construct the famous Chinese Eastern Railway (CER) across China’s northeast region of Manchuria, linking the Trans-Baikal sector of the TransSiberian Railway (TSR) with Vladivostok. Following Japan’s victory in the Russo-Japanese War of 1904–5 and subsequent annexation of Korea in 1910, Russian influence was excluded from the Korean Peninsula. However, in 1912 Russia ousted Beijing’s influence from what had been the Chinese 126

John Berryman 127

province of Outer Mongolia. Although it remained formally part of China until 1945, from 1924 the Mongolian People’s Republic was a Soviet protectorate. Up to the Japanese occupation of Manchuria in 1931, Russia additionally still retained control of the CER and a sphere of influence in Manchuria (Stephan, 1994). Soviet–Chinese relations In February 1950 a Treaty of Friendship, Cooperation, and Mutual Assistance between the Soviet Union and the newly established People’s Republic of China (PRC) was signed, laying the basis for ‘friendship in perpetuity’. Apart from providing critical assistance in the modernisation of its ‘junior brother’, Soviet advice in the development of China’s nuclear technology saved Beijing between 10 and 15 years (while the Soviet Union received virtually nothing in return) (Umbach, 2000, pp. 310, 304). The rupture of Sino-Soviet relations in 1960 transformed China from a triumph in Soviet eyes into a challenge and opened the door to several costly decades of a ‘parallel Cold War’ between Moscow and Beijing (Legvold, 1994, p. 23). Initially 25 Soviet divisions were deployed along the 7,520-kilometre (4,673 miles) Sino-Soviet frontier, and following the signing of a new Soviet– Mongolian defence treaty in 1966, two Soviet divisions plus some air assets were deployed in Mongolia. This ‘fist in the back’ of China was as much to defend Outer Mongolia from China as to position Soviet forces within striking distance of Beijing (Yahuda, 2004, p. 150). Following armed clashes between Soviet and Chinese troops on the Damansky/Zhenbao Island in the Ussuri River in March 1969, 45 Soviet divisions were deployed along the Sino-Soviet border, confronting 70 less well-equipped Chinese divisions, while Soviet frontline aviation was increased from 200 to 1,200 aircraft. By the 1980s 52 divisions, one quarter of Soviet ground forces, were stationed in the Soviet Far East and Mongolia, backed up by tactical and strategic nuclear forces and a powerful Soviet Pacific Fleet (Segal, 1985, pp. 15–21). Soviet military and political links were also established with states around China’s periphery, such as North Korea and Vietnam, together with a Soviet naval presence in the Indian Ocean. In sum, only at considerable cost was the Soviet Union able to maintain its position as a great power in East Asia (Gelman, 1997, pp. 213–14). To reduce this burden, Gorbachev sought the normalisation of Sino-Soviet relations. Progress made in removing the ‘three obstacles’ identified by Beijing – the evacuation of Soviet forces from Afghanistan and Mongolia, the withdrawal of Vietnamese forces from Cambodia, and a reduction in Soviet forces deployed on the Chinese border – cleared the way for Gorbachev’s state visit to Beijing in May 1989. The Sino-Soviet rapprochement, an enormous step forward, was overtaken by the implosion of the Soviet Union in 1991, leaving the RF as a great Eurasian regional power with the nuclear forces of a superpower.

128 Russia and China in Eurasia

Russia and China in the post-Cold War world Power shift For Moscow the collapse of the Soviet Union, and the subsequent muchreduced standing of the RF, only accelerated an adverse shift in the balance of power in East Asia already underway. In 1980 the gross domestic product (GDP) of the Soviet Union had been five times that of the PRC, while the per capita GDP of the Soviet population had been around seven times that of the Chinese population. In the chaos of the Yeltsin decade, the output of Russia’s economy fell by a half. Meanwhile, since Deng Xiaoping’s initiation of economic reforms in 1978, China’s GDP had increased tenfold. Based on the export of manufactured goods, China’s $8 trillion GDP is today the third largest in the world and almost five times the size of Russia’s $1.7 trillion GDP, which depends upon a third world pattern of export of fossil fuels and other natural resources. The per capita GDP of China’s population of 1.3 billion is therefore now around 60 per cent of the per capita GDP of the declining Russian population of 142 million (Trenin, 2000, p. 42; CIA World Factbook, 2009). Given this colossal shift in the Russo-Chinese balance of power in Eurasia, and the near certainty that China will emerge as the greatest military power in Asia, Russian security policy analysts have offered gloomy long-term prognoses. China is seen as ‘the most formidable geopolitical rival . . . [Russia] . . . has ever had on the Eurasian continent since the Tatar-Mongol invasion’, is adjudged ‘the only power in the world that can pose a long-term direct military threat to Russia’s security’, and is seen to be likely ‘to occupy a place somewhat similar to that previously occupied by the Soviet Union – that of a perceived massive threat to all its neighbours’ (Karaganov, 1992, p. 23; Miasnikov, 1994, pp. 232–33; Trenin, 2002, pp. 204, 223). In a confidential briefing in December 1996, the Russian Defence Minister, Igor Rodionov, indicated that in the view of the Russian General Staff, China was one of the few countries that could pose a military threat to Russia. The leaked statement was quickly dismissed by the Russian Ministry of Foreign Affairs (MFA), and the current public estimate of the Russian military authorities is that it will take China till 2050 to become a world-class power (Lo, 2008, p. 79). However, Mikhail Margelov, Chairman of the RF Federation Council Committee for International Affairs, has admitted that China aims to ‘draw level with the US and attain superiority over Russia’, and some Russian observers have suggested that a tri-polar (NATO–Russia–China) nuclear relationship has already succeeded the previous bipolar (NATO–Russia) relationship (Margelov, 2003, p. 80; Trenin, 2005, p. 20). Some have gone further. Pointing to the lack of any reference to China in Russia’s 2009 National Security Strategy, Anatoli Tsyganok, Head of the Centre for Military Forecasts at the Moscow-based Institute of Political and Military Analysis, and a retired military officer, has criticised the ‘stubborn

John Berryman 129

denial by the military–political leadership of the existence of the Chinese threat’ and has warned of the need to prepare for a Chinese invasion (Open Source Centre, 2009; Abdullaev, 2009). His colleague, analyst Alexander Khramchikhin, suggests that in the medium term the planned reductions in US and Russian deterrent forces, together with the enforced retirement of Russia’s ageing multiple-warhead ICBMs, will bring Russia’s strategic forces to a level far below that of US forces and dangerously close to that of Chinese nuclear forces, which are being steadily modernised and enlarged (The New York Times, 2007). While the balance of Russian and Chinese nuclear forces may eventually become a critical issue, for the moment both Moscow and Beijing view the Russo-Chinese strategic partnership as an important advance (Dittmer, 2004a, pp. 216–17; Li, 2009, pp. 162, 180–2). The Russo-Chinese strategic partnership Pragmatic realpolitik imperatives have largely shaped the construction of this new security relationship. First, in the 1990s Russian arms and advanced technology sales to China accounted for almost 60 per cent of Russia’s foreign arms sales (Menon, 2009b, pp. 9ff.). Although sales to China have declined substantially since 2005 (for reasons that are not entirely clear), to date Russian military equipment totalling around $26 billion has been supplied to the PRC (Gritskova, Lantratov, and Sysoev, 2007). In view of the ban on US and European Union (EU) arms sales to China after the 1989 Tiananmen Square crackdown, China was happy to purchase reasonably sophisticated Soviet-era weaponry, compatible with existing Chinese military equipment, as a ‘stop-gap’ measure until more advanced Chinese systems could be developed. The advisability of engaging in arms transfers to a potential adversary was queried by prominent Russian analysts such as Aleksei Arbatov and Vladimir Miasnikov, but the sales proved vital in maintaining the viability of many Russian military–industrial enterprises in the difficult post-Cold War years. Russia has sold China SU-27SK (Flanker) air superiority fighters and SU-30MKK (Flanker) multirole fighter/ground attack aircraft, Kilo-class dieselpowered submarines, Sovremenny-class guided missile destroyers, and S-300 surface-to-air (SAM) missile systems. Perhaps nervous of Chinese intentions, or in response to confidential US warnings, Russia blocked the transfer to China of advanced weapons systems such as ICBMs, nuclear submarines, and the TU-22M3 (Backfire) strategic bomber (Gelman, 1997, pp. 233–4; Bluth, 1998, pp. 20–1; Umbach, 2000, pp. 288–9). By contrast, superior military equipment has been sold to India, and in November 2007 Russia and India agreed to develop a new fifth-generation fighter aircraft (Trenin, 2008, p. 34). It is possible Russia may supply China with high-tech military equipment in the future (Blank, 2009). Despite these large transfers of arms, in something of an understatement, Margelov has conceded that, ‘[t]he high level of political relations between

130 Russia and China in Eurasia

Russia and China has yet to be matched by their relations in the economic sphere’ (Margelov, 2003, p. 86). Although bilateral trade has risen tenfold in the past decade to around $50 billion per annum, Russia accounts for only 2.2 per cent of China’s overall foreign trade, while China accounts for only 7.6 per cent of Russia’s foreign trade. By comparison, 52 per cent of Russia’s trade is with the EU. China supplies Russia with manufactured goods, while Russia has supplied China with military equipment, fossil fuels, and raw materials. Russian investment in China is negligible and China’s investment in Russia is less than $1 billion (Lo, 2008, pp. 38, 50; Reuters, 2009a). Prior to the financial crisis of 2008–9, Russia’s foreign currency reserves of $596 billion were dwarfed by China’s reserves of $2 trillion, the world’s largest. While Russia’s reserves have dropped by $300 billion, China’s reserves have remained steady. China has therefore emerged even further strengthened by the economic crisis (Lukin, 2009). Second, the strategic partnership has reflected the common opposition of Russia and China to US unilateralist policies and aspirations for global dominance. To some degree, NATO’s intervention in Kosovo in 1999 ‘pushed’ Russia to look eastward to a partnership with China, a move substantiated for Beijing by NATO’s bombing of the Chinese embassy in Belgrade. However, while calling for a multipolar world, both Russia and China have been concerned to ensure that their participation in the US-dominated international economic system should not be jeopardised. Recognising that, for the moment, there is little prospect that a Moscow– Beijing counterweight would be able to balance the global dominance of the US, neither Russia nor China are prepared to bear the costs of adhering to a grand strategy of counterpoise (Ross, 2004, pp. 286–7; Brooks and Wohlforth, 2007, pp. 39–40, 44, 72–3). Similarly, in view of Sino-Indian differences, calls for a more ambitious Moscow–Beijing–New Delhi troika have generated little response, other than a meeting of the three foreign ministers in Vladivostok in June 2005. Nonetheless, the strategic and normative ‘authoritarian alignment’ of Russia and China in the UN Security Council in support of state sovereignty and in opposition to liberal interventionism, separatism, and what are seen to be Western-inspired ‘colour’ revolutions, has become a conspicuous feature of the international scene. Both Russia and China have also opposed America’s development of its Missile Defence (MD) system and have sought to outlaw the use of weapon systems in space. Russia has also supported China’s opposition to separatism in Xinjiang, Taiwan, and Tibet, while China has supported Moscow’s opposition to separatism in the north Caucasus and recognition of the independence of Kosovo (Kuchins, 2007; Ferdinand, 2007). As a consequence, while voicing no direct public criticism of Russia’s hasty recognition of the independence of South Ossetia and Abhazia after the August 2008 Russian–Georgian War, Beijing led the resistance within the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation (SCO) summit in Dushanbe,

John Berryman 131

Tajikistan, to Russia’s efforts to secure international recognition of these breakaway territories (Cooley, 2009, p. 327). The third intersection of interests that has underpinned the Moscow– Beijing rapprochement has been their mutual desire to delimit and demilitarise their common borders. With 14 land neighbours apiece, Russia and China enjoy respectively the longest and second longest frontiers in the world. Despite the marked improvement in Sino-Soviet relations effected by Gorbachev, there were still fears in Moscow that, given the possibility of Chinese irredentism regarding the territories lost under the ‘unequal treaties’, there might be only a limited ‘window of opportunity’ for the demarcation of the Russian–Chinese border (Miasnikov, 1994, p. 230). For its part, Beijing was looking to establish a stable environment on China’s periphery, which would facilitate China’s ‘peaceful development’. It was calculated that selective bilateral huobai (partnerships) would help reduce region-wide efforts to contain China by means of alliances that excluded the PRC. To secure the first such partnership with Moscow, a delimitation of the Sino-Soviet border was vital (Jingjie, 1994, p. 253; Lanteigne, 2009, ch. 6). In May 1991 the delimitation of most of the 4,300-kilometre (2,640 miles) eastern sector of the Sino-Soviet border was concluded and in September 1994 the delimitation of the short 55-kilometre (35 mile) western sector of the Sino-Russian border between Kazakhstan and Mongolia was agreed. All remaining disagreements over the Sino-Russian border were resolved and a final agreement was signed in July 2008 (The Economist, 2008; Menon, 2009a, pp. 105, 120–1). For both Moscow and Beijing, stabilisation of their borders with their greatest neighbour has enabled both states to pursue foreign policies free from any concern that border issues might be used to aggravate their mutual relations (Li, 2009, p. 160). Thanks to the rapid modernization of China forces and the post-Cold War reduction in Russia’s ground forces from 200 divisions to around 24, China’s ground forces are today clearly superior to Russian forces in the Far East. As compared to the 72,500 ground and airborne forces and 2,500 naval infantry troops deployed in the RF Far Eastern Military District, and the 52,000 ground and airborne forces deployed in the RF Siberian Military District, 550,000 Chinese troops are stationed in the PRC North-East Shenyang and North-Beijing Military Regions, and a further 220,000 troops are stationed in the West-Lanzhou Military Region (Austin and Muraviev, 2000, ch. 9; IISS, 2009, pp. 225, 382). However, in the event of a Sino-Russian clash, it is suggested Russia would use its tactical nuclear forces in the border regions to check China’s superior conventional forces, while Russia’s strategic nuclear forces would deter China’s employment of its strategic nuclear forces (Umbach, 2000, pp. 282–4; Trenin, 2000, p. 56; Trenin, 2001, p. 109; Medeiros, 2006, p. 70). Apart from these disquieting strategic calculations, there are deep worries in Moscow that the economically deprived and sparsely populated Russian

132 Russia and China in Eurasia

Far East (RFE) might eventually become part of Greater China. The viability of the RFE is therefore seen to rest upon not only the maintenance of Russia’s territorial integrity and security, but upon the economic development of the RFE and its integration with Russia’s economy and the economies of the Pacific region. To rival proposed ‘Silk Routes’ from Japan–China–Kazakhstan to Europe, which would bypass Russia, the development of energy distribution networks and transport plans to link the TSR with a projected Trans-Korean rail system are seen to be vital to sustain the RFE and develop Russia’s international position as a Eurasian transport hub. Central Asia, a vast space previously structured by the Soviet Union, is therefore seen as a vital Russian sphere of influence and buffer zone between Russia’s exposed southern flank and the north-western borders of China (Bogaturov, 1993a, p. 42; Bogaturov, 1993b, p. 301; Margelov, 2003, pp. 88–9; Blank, 2004). Cut off from South Asia, the Balkans, and Europe, and overshadowed in East Asia by China, Japan, and the US, as Robert Legvold has underlined, ‘For Moscow Asia is overwhelmingly Central Asia’ (Legvold, 1995, p. 44).

Russia, China, and Central Asia Since 1992, the newly independent Central Asian states have pursued ‘multivector’ foreign policies, forging new international partnerships with other regional players such as Turkey, Iran, India, and Japan, and with external players such as the US and the EU (see Blank chapter in this volume). Amid this jostling for influence in Central Asia, it is the interplay between Russia and China and the strategically located states of Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, and Tajikistan that looks likely to remain an enduring feature of this new multi-level ‘Great Game’. An early initiative was the establishment of confidence and security-building measures (CSBMs) along the 6,450-kilometre (almost 4,000 miles) border between China and the four post-Soviet states of Russia, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, and Tajikistan. The agreements were signed in Shanghai in 1996 (the ‘Shanghai Five’) and in 1997 (Anderson, 1997, pp. 38–42; Dittmer, 2004b, pp. 337–8). The Shanghai Cooperation Organisation As multi-ethnic polities, each with Muslim communities approaching or exceeding 20 million, Russia and China have a powerful common interest in maintaining stability in the newly independent Central Asian states and in the neighbouring territory of Western China. Much of Chinese Turkestan, populated largely by the Turkic-speaking Muslim Uighur peoples, was conquered by the armies of the Emperor Qianlong only in 1755. After the last Uighur rebellion was crushed in 1878, this Chinese sphere of influence was incorporated into the Chinese empire in 1884 as the province of Xinjiang. However, it remained a contested territory and in 1933 and 1944 two shortlived Soviet-sponsored ‘East Turkestan Republics’ were established in parts

John Berryman 133

of Xinjiang. Since the reassertion of control by the PRC, the huge Xinjiang Uighur Autonomous Region (XUAR), one-sixth of China and four times the size of Japan, has witnessed repeated separatist risings (Olcott, 2000, pp. 377–85; Swanstrom, 2005; Zhao, 2007, p. 142). The eruption in Urumqi in July 2009 left approximately 156 dead and 1,000 injured – the worst outbreak of civil disorder in China since the suppression of the Tiananmen Square demonstration in 1989 (The Economist, 2009a). Fearful that separatist unrest in Xinjiang might stimulate a ‘domino effect’ in Tibet and Inner Mongolia, which could threaten the territorial integrity of China, Beijing’s overriding concern is to combat what it sees to be the three ‘evil forces’ of international terrorism, Islamic extremism, and the separatist activity of the East Turkestan Islamic Movement within the Uighur populations of the XUAR, Kazakhstan, and Kyrgyzstan. To address this problem, at the instigation of Beijing, in June 2001 the ‘Shanghai Five’, plus Uzbekistan, established the SCO. Excluding the US, since its inception the SCO has provided a framework for rivalry and cooperation between Russia and China in Central Asia. For Moscow, it was plain that the establishment of a number of weak Central Asian states in place of the previously powerful presence of the Russian Empire and the Soviet Union had enhanced China’s relative weight in Central Asia. In a pragmatic gamble, Putin therefore supported China’s initiative to establish the SCO. It was calculated that within the framework of a weak new Eurasian security complex, Moscow would be able to establish a measure of shared responsibility with Beijing for the maintenance of the stability and security of the region, and would thereby be able to constrain the development of China’s influence in Central Asia (Berryman, 2007, pp. 156–9). For Beijing, the SCO was seen to provide a re-entry point through which, after more than a century of Russian and Soviet occupation, China could re-establish its relations with its Central Asian neighbours. While demonstrating China’s more self-confident international stance, Beijing was nonetheless aware that international security concerns to the east and the south – Taiwan, the South China Sea, and relations with the Association of South-East Asian Nations (ASEAN) – demanded that China’s ‘strategic rear’ in the north-west remain stable. Beijing has therefore been careful not to challenge the primacy of Russia as the security manager within Central Asia and has resisted the development of the SCO as a military bloc. Instead, Beijing is funding infrastructural projects in energy, communications, and mining within the Central Asian states, cautiously using the multilateral framework of the SCO to advance China’s ‘soft power’ in the region (Swanstrom, 2005; Blank, 2005; Zhao, 2007). The impact of 9/11 Putin moved swiftly to seize the opportunity offered by the terrorist attacks on New York and Washington on 11 September 2001 to bandwagon with

134 Russia and China in Eurasia

the US. Seemingly without prior consultation with Beijing, he endorsed the temporary basing of US and coalition forces in Central Asia to sustain anti-terrorism operations in Afghanistan, and acquiesced in Washington’s abrupt withdrawal from the Anti-Ballistic Missile (ABM) Treaty, thereby clearing the way for America’s deployment of the first stage of its MD system. Supplanted by Russia in the role of America’s strategic partner in Asia, concerned by the establishment of new US bases in Central Asia within striking distance of its ‘strategic rear’, and worried by the challenge which even a ‘thin’ MD screen might pose to its minimal nuclear deterrence forces, China reacted sharply to Putin’s initiative. As a consequence, in February 2002 Russian Defence Minister Sergei Ivanov undertook a special visit to Beijing to reassure the Chinese leadership (Berryman, 2007, pp. 160–1; Li, 2009, pp. 159–60). Notwithstanding these initial Russo-Chinese differences, counter-terrorism cooperation has developed rapidly within the SCO. In 2002 China participated in a SCO cross-border counter-terrorism exercise with Kyrgyzstan, the first occasion the People’s Liberation Army (PLA) had engaged in a joint military exercise. The following year the SCO military exercise was conducted in Xinjiang, involving mainly Chinese and Kyrgyz troops, and in Kazakhstan, involving mainly Kazakh, Kyrgyz, and Russian troops (McDermott and O’Malley, 2003). In addition to the SCO secretariat in Beijing, in 2004 the Regional Anti-Terrorist Structure (RATS) in Tashkent was opened, and in 2004–5 India, Pakistan, Iran, and Mongolia were admitted to the SCO as observers, while Turkmenistan and Afghanistan were invited to participate in SCO activities. With respect to Mongolia, both Moscow and Beijing are concerned to limit any pro-Mongol irredentism in the Tuva and Buryat Republics of the RFE or in the Inner Mongolian Autonomous Region of the PRC (Bogaturov, 1993b, pp. 314–15; Bogaturov, 2004, pp. 5, 9). In 2005 a first-ever Russian–Chinese joint military exercise was mounted under the aegis of the SCO at Vladivostok and on the Shandong Peninsula. China provided 8,000 of the 10,000 troops involved, together with 60 ships and submarines, while Russia showcased its air power assets (Verbitz, 2006). The 2007 SCO counter-terrorism exercise, mounted in Russia’s Chelyabinsk oblast, involved only 6,500 Russian, Chinese, Kazakh, Kyrgyz, and Tajik forces, but marked the first occasion since the 1969 Sino-Soviet clash that Chinese troops had operated on Russian territory (Zhao, 2007, p. 170). The joint Russian–Chinese military exercise held in China’s north-eastern Jilin Province in July 2009 involved only 3,000 troops (Bin, 2009). Russia’s strategic reassertion in Central Asia In contrast to the loss of influence sustained in the Yeltsin years, thanks to Putin’s efforts Russia’s dominant position within Central Asia has been restored (Wohlforth, 2004, pp. 225–38). Bilateral agreements with selected Central Asian states have provided Russian military training

John Berryman 135

and equipment at favourable rates, and the reinvigoration of the 1992 Collective Security Treaty (CST) has helped bolster Russia’s strategic position within the post-Soviet space (see Nygren and Sakwa chapters in this volume). At a CST summit in May 2001, an initial token force of four battalions of Collective Rapid Deployment Forces (CRDF) (one each from Russia, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, and Tajikistan) was established to deal with security challenges in Central Asia. In 2002, seeking to establish its position as the ‘Eastern NATO’, the CST was renamed the Collective Security Treaty Organisation (CSTO), and the following year a CRDF base was opened at Kant, Kyrgyzstan, 20 kilometres from the US and coalition facility at Manas. In October 2004 agreement was reached for the establishment under a CSTO mandate of a permanent base for the 5,500 troops of Russia’s 201st Motor Rifle Division in Tajikistan, and in 2004 and 2006 Russian-directed CSTO military exercises were mounted. In 2006 Uzbekistan rejoined the CSTO (Berryman, 2007, pp. 155, 160–5; Trenin, 2007a, pp. 98–101). With the failure to stage a joint CSTO–SCO exercise in 2007, separate CSTO and SCO exercises were mounted, pointing up the barely concealed rivalry between the Russian-directed CSTO and the Chinese-led SCO (Marat, 2007). Only in February 2009 were enlarged CSTO Collective Operational Reaction Forces (CORF) established, comparable to the rapid-reaction forces deployed by NATO and the EU. In October, 7,000 Russian, Armenian, Kazakh, Kyrgyz, and Tajik troops took part in the first CORF exercise at the Matybulak firing range in southern Kazakhstan (McDermott, 2009; Reuters, 2009). Fearful that the more dynamic Chinese economy may eventually displace Russia’s economic presence in Central Asia, Putin has also fostered the development of Russian transport and energy infrastructure links with the Central Asian states and has sought to slow the pace of economic integration within the SCO. Additional Russian-directed Eurasian economic integration structures have been developed to supplement the ineffectual operations of the Commonwealth of Independent States (CIS) (Lukin, 2007; Lampton, 2008, p. 201). In 2000 the Eurasian Economic Community (EurAsEC) was established, comprising Russia, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, and Belarus (and after 2006 Uzbekistan), followed by the establishment in 2003 of the Single Economic Space (SES), comprising Russia, Kazakhstan, Ukraine, and Belarus. After the admission of Russia to the Central Asian Cooperation Organisation (CACO) in 2004, the following year CACO was merged with EurAsEC. In November 2009 it was agreed that a customs union between Russia, Belarus, and Kazakhstan would be established in 2010. Although the level of economic integration secured has, to date, been disappointing, the new regional institutions have nonetheless contributed a measure of protective integration to sustain regime security and stability within the post-Soviet space and have helped curb the influence of China in Central Asia (Allison, 2008; Kazantsev, 2008). After a

136 Russia and China in Eurasia

century of Russian rule, the current largely Soviet-era authoritarian leaders of the ‘imitation democracies’ in Central Asia still feel more comfortable dealing with familiar officials in Moscow than with Chinese officials whose intentions are less well understood (Furman, 2008). China’s efforts to secure access to the energy resources of Central Asia have also been constrained by the competitive activities of Russian energy companies. Nonetheless, in early 2009 the third and final leg of the Chinese oil export pipeline from western Kazakhstan to Xinjiang was opened, and in December 2009 the 1,833-kilometre pipeline connecting the gas-fields in Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan, and Kazakhstan with Xinjiang was opened (Reuters, 2009b). After 15 years of stop–start negotiations agreement has finally been reached on the construction of a spur of Russia’s Eastern Siberia–Pacific Ocean (ESPO) oil pipeline to north-eastern China. While 90 per cent of Russia’s energy exports still go to Europe, Russia currently supplies only 11 per cent of China’s oil imports (largely by rail) and very little gas. However, China is already the second largest importer of petroleum after the US and by 2025 will be 73 per cent dependent on oil imports. Secure overland access to the energy resources of the Caspian Sea region will therefore become even more of a priority for China’s energy security policy (Menon, 2009, pp. 119–25; The Economist, 2009b). Thanks to these measures and the strong growth of Russia’s economy since 2000, Moscow has so far been able to hold off the Chinese challenge within Central Asia. Around half of the total trade of the Central Asian republics is still with Russia, amounting to more than $20 billion, compared to $14 billion with China and $7 billion with Germany, and prior to the 2008 financial crisis Russia attracted two million seasonal workers from Central Asia, including more than 350,000 from Kyrgyzstan, 500,000–800,000 from Tajikistan, and 500,000 from Uzbekistan. Their remittances make up over one-third of the GDP of Kyrgyzstan and roughly half of the GDP of Tajikistan (Trenin, 2007a, pp. 114–15, 134; Cooley, 2009, p. 326). In the view of Fyodor Lukyanov, editor of Russia in Global Affairs, the 2008–9 financial crisis has shown that Russia remains the ‘natural centre of power among the former Soviet republics’, most of which received financial aid from Russia – in the case of Kyrgyzstan amounting to some $2.15 billion in financial credit and a further $150 million in grants (Lukyanov, 2009a; Levy, 2009). For the moment Moscow is following a course of strategic hedging against China in Central Asia, the Central Asian states continue to bandwagon with Russia, while Beijing is maintaining a low profile in the SCO, quietly strengthening its economic position in the region (Medeiros, 2005). In the wake of the financial crisis Beijing has offered $10 billion in loans to the Central Asian states, and in the longer term China looks likely to displace Russia as the dominant economic force in the region (Cooley, 2009).

John Berryman 137

Russia, China, and East Asia Recognising that the Pacific Rim has overtaken the Atlantic Basin as the main location of world production, and hoping to constrain China’s increasingly assertive position in East Asia as well as Central Asia, Russia is seeking to establish a less one-dimensional presence in the Korean Peninsula and a stronger role in the Asia–Pacific Region (APR). To date, lacking the economic resources to back up its geopolitical ambitions, Russia’s efforts have done little to shift China’s strategic dominance of mainland East Asia. Whereas for the US the Pacific coast is the gateway to Asia, for Russia the Pacific coast is the end of the line. Korea and the Cold War Following the post-war division of the Korean Peninsula along the 38th parallel, North Korea was supplied with Soviet military equipment and limited military assistance in the Korean War. Confronted by the northward advance of UN forces, to protect China’s 1,416-kilometre (880 mile) border with the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (DPRK), Mao Zedong committed almost three million armed Chinese ‘volunteers’ to the war. Notwithstanding their joint support for North Korea, the Sino-Soviet dispute generated competition for influence in Pyongyang. On 6 July 1961 a Treaty of Mutual Assistance, Friendship and Cooperation was signed, which committed the Soviet Union to the defence of the DPRK. Five days later, North Korea and China signed a similar pact (Segal, 1983). Following two decades of delivery of Soviet military equipment to the DPRK, the establishment of Soviet diplomatic and trade relations with South Korea in 1989 signalled Gorbachev’s ‘tilt’ away from Russia’s economically unprofitable support for North Korea (Rubinstein, 1997, pp. 156–9). Korea since the Cold War Since an $8 billion Cold War debt to Moscow remained unpaid, ignoring warnings from within the MFA and from informed observers such as Aleksei Bogaturov, Yeltsin authorised a cut in Russia’s material and military support for North Korea and Russia’s 1961 defensive alliance was terminated (Bogaturov, 1993b, pp. 309–11; Bogaturov, 1993c, pp. 6–7). As a consequence, China quickly became the main provider of North Korea’s food and energy supplies (Rubinstein, 1997, pp. 163–9, 172–6; Joo and Kwak, 2001, pp. 301–5). With the normalisation of its diplomatic relations with South Korea, China also became South Korea’s largest trading partner, and South Korea became China’s third largest trade partner. Enjoying balanced relations with North and South Korea, Beijing could once more view the entire Korean Peninsula as a Chinese buffer zone and sphere of influence (Shambaugh, 2003, pp. 48–50). Lacking any leverage in the Korean Peninsula, Russia was marginalised in the first Korean nuclear crisis, triggered by Pyongyang’s announcement in

138 Russia and China in Eurasia

1993 of its intention to withdraw from the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty (NPT). Moscow’s proposal for an eight-party conference was ignored, Russia was excluded by Washington from the 1994 Agreed Framework settlement, and in 1997 Russia was excluded from the Four-Party Talks between China, the two Koreas, and the US (Anderson, 1997, pp. 63–6; Wilson, 2004, pp. 174–5). Scrambling to rebalance its one-sided position within the peninsula, and reduce its undue dependence on China as its partner in the region, Russia signed a new friendship treaty with North Korea in February 2000 (albeit one that provided no security guarantees). In July 2000 Putin visited Pyongyang and then hosted two return visits by the North Korean leader, Kim Jong-Il, in August 2001 and in August 2002 (Joo and Kwak, 2001, pp. 305–11; Kerr, 2005, pp. 428–9). In October 2002 North Korea recommenced its uranium-enrichment programme and in December withdrew from the NPT. Despite the efforts of Russia’s Deputy Foreign Minister, Alexander Losyukov, shuttling between Moscow, Pyongyang, and Beijing, Russia was excluded from the tripartite PRC–DPRK–US talks convened in Beijing in the spring of 2003 (Shambaugh, 2003, pp. 53–4). However, in August 2003 Russia was invited by Beijing to participate in the new Six-Party Talks (SPT). Notwithstanding its participation in successive rounds of the SPT, in October 2006 North Korea detonated a small nuclear device and in May 2009 a second nuclear device. Despite its exasperation with Pyongyang’s brinkmanship, Russia has called for a return to the SPT (Oliver and Dombey, 2009). Lacking any real leverage, Moscow hopes that the SPT may provide the basis for a multilateral security structure in the region in which Russia could play an enhanced role (Ross, 2004, pp. 278–9; Mikheev, 2006). The Asia–Pacific Region After 1992, aware that it was likely to be excluded from membership of the European Union and NATO on its western flank, Russia sought access to the new multilateral institutions in the Asia–Pacific Region (APR). In 1994 Russia was admitted to the ASEAN Regional Forum (RF), and in 1998 secured entry to the Asia–Pacific Economic Cooperation forum (APEC), an organisation of 21 member states, representing one-third of the world’s population and nearly 60 per cent of global GDP. In December 2005 Putin was granted observer status at the first East Asian Summit (EAS), which, like the SCO and the SPT, is a multilateral forum largely initiated by China (Lanteigne, 2009, ch. 3). Nonetheless, although Russia is preparing to host (at considerable cost) the APEC summit in Vladivostok in the summer of 2012, as The Economist observes, ‘there is no hiding that Russia is a bit player in regional trade and that APEC is A Perfect Excuse to Chat’ (The Economist, 2009b). As part of its ‘multi-vector’ foreign policy, Russia has also sought to develop its bilateral relations with the states of the APR. Unfortunately, by comparison with China’s extensive economic and cultural links with the states of the region, Russia’s share of the trade and investments of these states

John Berryman 139

remains negligible (Umbach, 2000, pp. 295–7, 303). Apart from securing a strategic partnership with Vietnam, in pursuit of strategic diversity Russia has also sought to develop its relations with Japan, its great power neighbour in North-East Asia. Although relations have improved, thanks to the intractability of the territorial dispute over the Southern Kuril Islands/Northern Territories, no full normalisation of Russo-Japanese relations has yet been secured (Rozman, 2004).

Conclusion Contrary to the focus of most Russian security policy analysts on the potential for conflict, Russia’s East Asian specialists have in the main focused on the commonality of interests shared by Russia and China (Voskressenski, 2003; Lukin, 2006, p. 162). Going further, some Sinophile and Eurasianist circles within the MFA, the Defence Ministry, the military–industrial complex, and the wider nationalist political community, have advocated a Warsaw Pact-style political and military union between Russia, China, India and other non-Western nations (Tsygankov, 2009). However, given the shared memories of the failed Sino-Soviet alliance and the deeper-rooted cultural differences that separate Russia and China, the dominant view in Moscow is that the 2001 Russo-Chinese Treaty of Good Neighbourly Friendship and Cooperation is unlikely to develop into a full anti-Western Russo-Chinese alliance. As Dmitri Trenin comments, ‘a Sino-Russian alliance against the United States could only occur as a result of exceptionally shortsighted and foolish policies on Washington’s part’ (Trenin, 2006, p. 95). In the event of a deterioration in Sino-American relations, Russia might find itself sandwiched between the two powers. In a reworking of the Washington–Moscow–Beijing strategic triangle of the 1970s, Moscow would then be in a position to exercise enhanced leverage between China and the US (Trenin, 2007b, p. 47). If a Sino-Russian alliance is not in the making, what are the prospects for Russo-Chinese relations in the medium term? For the moment, both Russia and China seem committed to the development of their strategic and normative partnership. Neither enjoy close relations with any other great powers, preferring to pursue ‘multi-vector’ foreign policies in an emerging multipolar world (Bovt, 2008). Currently, Russia is hedging its bets against China, utilising both cooperative (SCO and SPT) and competitive (CSTO) levers, while China is pursuing a strategy of selective ‘hub and spokes multilateralism’ in Eurasia (Dittmer, 2004a, pp. 228–9; Liebman, 2007). However, Russia is looking to secure a new Euro-Atlantic security architecture, and has also raised the possibility of utilising the CSTO and the SCO as regional components of a wider Eurasian security system based on tripartite interaction between Russia, China, and the US, as suggested by some Chinese analysts (Lukyanov, 2009b; Karaganov, 2009). Nonetheless,

140 Russia and China in Eurasia

Russia and China are still some considerable way from establishing any EU-style Eurasian security community (Brzezinski, 1997, pp. 208–9; Sutter, 2005, p. 122). In the longer term, it is recognised in Moscow that as the gravitational weight of China increases, Russia may eventually run the risk of becoming a junior Eurasian partner or dependent raw-material appendage of a Greater China (Lo, 2008, ch. 10). Squeezed between an enlarged EU of more than half a billion and 1.3 billion Chinese in a multipolar and globalising world order, Russia may find it difficult to sustain its position as an independent ‘pole’ (Brzezinski, 1997, ch. 4). In such a circumstance, Moscow may then be tempted to look to the ‘neocontainment’ of China by a balancing coalition. Such a course would demand a complex reworking of Russia’s relations with a variety of partners, which might include the US, Japan, Germany, Iran, and India. Space precludes any detailed exploration of the prospects for such a fundamental reworking of the international order (For preliminary discussion of some of the possible options, see Miasnikov, 1994, pp. 232–33; Brzezinski, 1997; Gelman, 1997, pp. 231–5; Mearsheimer, 2000, pp. 396–402; Dugin, 2000; Buzan, 2004; Sutter, 2005). However, as a researcher at the Institute of Strategic Analysis and Forecasting at the Kyrgyz–Russian Slavic University has warned: ‘it is extremely necessary for Russia to work out a foreign policy strategy in case of a deterioration of relations with China’ (Open Source Centre, 2009).

References Abdullaev, Nabi (2009). ‘Russia Reshapes Army Structure to US-Style Brigades’, Defense News, 5 October. Available at http://www.defensenews.com/story.php?i=4313051 (accessed on 7 July 2010). Allison, Roy (2008). ‘Virtual Regionalization, Regional Structures and Regime Security’, Central Asian Survey, vol. 27, no. 2, June, pp. 185–202. Anderson, Jennifer (1997). The Limits of Sino-Russian Partnership. Adelphi Paper 315. Oxford: Oxford University Press for the International Institute for Strategic Studies. Austin, Greg and Alexey D. Muraviev (2000). The Armed Forces of Russia in Asia. London and New York: I. B. Tauris. Berryman, John (2007). ‘Russia and China in the New Central Asia: The Security Agenda’, in Roger E. Kanet (ed.) Russia: Re-Emerging Great Power. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, pp. 152–72. Bin, Yu (2009). ‘Market Malaise and Mirnaya Missiya’, Comparative Connections: A Quarterly E-Journal on East–West Bilateral Relations, vol. 11, no. 3, October. Available at http://csis.org/files/publication/0903qchina_russia.pdf (accessed on 7 July 2010). Blank, Stephen J. (2004). ‘Infrastructural Policy and National Strategies in Central Asia: The Russian Example’, Central Asian Survey, vol. 23, nos 3–4, December, pp. 225–48. Blank, Stephen J. (2005). ‘China in Central Asia: The Hegemon in Waiting?’, in Ariel Cohen (ed.) Eurasia in Balance: The US and the Regional Power Shift. Aldershot: Ashgate, pp. 149–82.

John Berryman 141 Blank, Stephen J. (2009). ‘Recent Trends in Russo-Chinese Military Relations’, China Brief, vol. 9, issue 2, 22 January. Available at http://www.jamestown.org/programs/ chinabrief/single/?tx_ttnews%5Btt_news%5D=34389&tx_ttnews%5BbackPid% 5D=25&cHash=7458900c65 (accessed on 7 July 2010). Bluth, Christoph (1998). ‘Russia and China Consolidate their New Strategic Partnership’, Jane’s Intelligence Review, vol. 10, no. 8, August, pp. 18–22. Bogaturov, Aleksei (1993a). ‘The Eurasian Support of World Stability’, International Affairs (Moscow), no. 2, February, pp. 32–44. Bogaturov, Aleksei (1993b). ‘Russia in Northeast Asia: Setting a New Agenda’, Korea and World Affairs, vol. 17, no. 2, Summer, pp. 298–315. Bogaturov, Aleksei (1993c). ‘The Yeltsin Administration’s Policy in the Far East: In Search of a Concept’, The Harriman Institute Forum, vol. 6, no. 12, August, pp. 1–9. Bogaturov, Aleksei (2004). International Relations in Central–Eastern Asia: Geopolitical Challenges and Prospects for Political Cooperation. Centre for Northeast Asian Policy Studies (CNAPS), Washington, DC: The Brookings Institution. Available at http:// www.brookings.edu/papers/2004/06russia_bogaturov.aspx (accessed on 7 July 2010). Bovt, Georgy (2008). ‘Why Moscow Doesn’t Have a Lot of Friends’, The Moscow Times, 10 April. Brooks, Stephen G. and William C. Wohlforth (2008). World Out of Balance: International Relations and the Challenge of American Primacy. Princeton, NJ and Oxford: Princeton University Press. Brzezinski, Zbigniew (1997). The Grand Chessboard: American Primacy and its Geostrategic Imperatives. New York: Basic Books. Buzan, Barry (2004). The United States and the Great Powers: World Politics in the Twenty-First Century. Cambridge: Polity. CIA (2009). The World Factbook. Washington, DC: US Government. Available at https:// www.cia.gov/library/publications/the-world-factbook/ (accessed on 7 July 2010). Cooley, Alexander (2009). ‘Behind the Central Asian Curtain: The Limits of Russia’s Resurgence’, Current History, vol. 108, no. 720, October, pp. 325–32. Dittmer, Lowell (2004a). ‘The Sino-Russian Strategic Partnership: Ghost of the “Strategic Triangle”?’, in Guoli Li (ed.) Chinese Foreign Policy in Transition. New York: Aldine De Gruyter, pp. 211–32. Dittmer, Lowell (2004b). ‘The Emerging Northeast Asian Regional Order’, in Samuel S. Kim (ed.) The International Relations of Northeast Asia. Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield, pp. 331–62. Dugin, Aleksandr (2000). Osnovy geopolitiki: Geopoliticheskoe budushchee Rossii [The Foundations of Geopolitics: Russia’s Geopolitical Future], 2nd edn. Moscow: Arktogeia. The Economist (2008). ‘The Cockerel’s Cropped Crest’, 26 July, pp. 64–5. The Economist (2009a). ‘Is China Fraying?’, 11 July, pp. 24–6. The Economist (2009b). ‘Blind-sided in Asia’, 11 July, p. 57. Ferdinand, Peter (2007). ‘Russia and China: Converging Responses to Globalization’, International Affairs, vol. 83, no. 4, pp. 655–80. Furman, Dmitri (2008) ‘Imitation Democracies’, New Left Review, no. 54, November/ December, pp. 29–48. Gelman, Harry (1997). ‘Implications for the United States of Russia’s Far Eastern Policy’, in Stephen J. Blank and Alvin Z. Rubinstein (eds) Imperial Decline: Russia’s Changing Role in Asia. Durham, NC and London: Duke University Press, pp. 213–43. Gritskova, Alexandra, Konstantin Lantratov and Gennady Sysoev (2007). ‘Kitay slozhil rossiyskoe oruzhie’ [China sets aside Russian arms], Kommersant, 7 May. Available at http://www.kommersant.ru/doc.aspx?DocsID=763776 (accessed on 7 July 2010).

142 Russia and China in Eurasia International Institute for Strategic Studies (IISS) (2009). The Military Balance 2009. London: Routledge for the International Institute for Strategic Studies. Jingjie, Li (1994). ‘China and Russia’, in Robert D. Blackwill and Sergei A. Karaganov (eds) Damage Limitation or Crisis? Russia and the Outside World. CSIA Studies in International Security, no. 5. Washington, DC and London: Brassey’s, pp. 241–58. Joo, Seung-Hu and Tae-Hwan Kwak (2001). ‘Military Relations between Russia and North Korea’, The Journal of East Asian Affairs, vol. XV, no. 2, Fall/Winter, pp. 297–323. Karaganov, Sergei (1992). ‘Russia and Other Independent Republics’, in Conference Papers: Asia’s International Role in the Post-Cold War Era, Part II. Adelphi Paper 276. London: International Institute for Strategic Studies, pp. 21–30. Karaganov, Sergei (2009). ‘The Magic Numbers of 2009’, Russia in Global Affairs, no. 2, April–June. Available at http://eng.globalaffairs.ru/numbers/27/1279.html (accessed on 7 July 2010). Kazantsev, Andrei (2008). ‘Russian Policy in Central Asia and the Caspian Sea Region’, Europe–Asia Studies, vol. 60, no. 6, August, pp. 1073–88. Kerr, David (2005). ‘The Sino-Russian Partnership and U.S. Policy Toward North Korea: From Hegemony to Concert in Northeast Asia’, International Studies Quarterly, no. 49, pp. 411–37. Kuchins, Andrew (2007). ‘Russia and China: The Ambivalent Embrace’, Current History, vol. 106, no. 702, October, pp. 321–27. Lampton, David M. (2008). The Three Faces of Chinese Power: Might, Money, and Minds. Berkeley: University of California Press. Lanteigne, Marc (2009). Chinese Foreign Policy: An Introduction. London: Routledge. Legvold, Robert (1995). ‘Russia and the Strategic Quadrangle’, in Michael Mandelbaum (ed.) The Strategic Quadrangle: Russia, China, Japan and the United States in East Asia. New York: Council on Foreign Relations, pp. 16–62. Levy, Clifford J. (2009). ‘Kyrgyzstan: At the Crossroads of Empires, a Mouse Struts’, New York Times, 26 July. Li, Rex (2009). A Rising China and Security in East Asia: Identity Construction and Security Discourse. London: Routledge. Liebman, Alex (2007). ‘China’s Asia Policy: Strategy and Tactics’, in Michael D. Swaine, Andrew N.D. Young, and Evan S. Medeiros with Oriana Skybar Mastro (eds) The Chinese Military and Taiwan’s Security. Washington, DC: Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, pp. 25–54. Lo, Bobo (2008). Axis of Convenience: Moscow, Beijing, and the New Geopolitics. London: Royal Institute of International Affairs. Lukin, Alexander (2006). ‘The Russian Approach to China under Gorbachev, Yeltsin, and Putin’, in Gilbert Rozman, Kazuhiko Togo, and Joseph P. Ferguson (eds) Russian Strategic Thought toward Asia. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, pp. 139–65. Lukin, Vladimir (2007). ‘The Shanghai Cooperation Organisation: What Next?’, Russia in Global Affairs, no. 2, July–September. Available at http://eng.globalaffairs. ru/numbers/20/1135.html (accessed on 7 July 2010). Lukin, Vladimir (2009). ‘China Sees Diminishing Returns with Russia’, The Moscow Times, 15 October. Lukyanov, Fyodor (2009a). ‘Learning the Skills of Being a Regional Power’, The Moscow Times, 18 March. Lukyanov, Fyodor (2009b). ‘Rethinking Security in “Greater Europe”’, Russia in Global Affairs, no. 3, July–September. Available at http://eng.globalaffairs.ru/ numbers/28/1298.html (accessed on 7 July 2010).

John Berryman 143 Marat, Erica (2007). ‘Fissure in the Force: Multilateral Security Integration Can Only Go So Far’, Jane’s Intelligence Review, vol. 19, no. 6, June, pp. 24–9. Margelov, Mikhail (2003). ‘Russian–Chinese Relations: At Their Peak?’, International Affairs (Moscow), vol. 49, no. 6, June, pp. 78–92. McDermott, Roger N. (2009). ‘CSTO Rapid Reaction Exercises get off to Discouraging Start’, RFE/RL, 27 August. Available at http://www.rferl.org/articleprintview/1808735. html (accessed on 7 July 2010). McDermott, Roger N. and William D. O’Malley (2003). ‘Countering Terrorism in Central Asia’, Jane’s Intelligence Review, vol. 15, no. 10, October, pp. 16–19. Mearsheimer, John (2001). The Tragedy of Great Power Politics. New York and London: W. W. Norton & Co. Medeiros, Evan S. (2005). ‘Strategic Hedging and the Future of Asia–Pacific Stability’, The Washington Quarterly, vol. 29, no. 1, Winter, pp. 145–67. Medeiros, Evan S. (2006). ‘Evolving Nuclear Doctrine’, in Paul J. Bolt and Albert S. Willner (eds) China’s Nuclear Future. Boulder, CO: Lynne Rienner, pp. 39–78. Menon, Rajan (2009a). ‘The Limits of Chinese–Russian Partnership’, Survival, vol. 51, no. 3, June–July, pp. 99–130. Menon, Rajan (2009b). The China–Russia Relationship: What It Involves, Where It is Headed, and How It Matters for the United States. A Century Foundation Report. New York: The Century Foundation. Miasnikov, Vladimir S. (1994). ‘Russia and China’, in Robert D. Blackwill and Sergei A. Karaganov (eds) Damage Limitation or Crisis? Russia and the Outside World. CSIA Studies in International Security, no 5. Washington, DC and London: Brassey’s, pp. 227–40. Mikheev, Vasily (2006). ‘Russian Strategic Thinking toward North and South Korea’, in Gilbert Rozman, Kazuhiko Togo, and Joseph P. Ferguson (eds) Russian Strategic Thought toward Asia. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, pp. 187–204. The New York Times (2007). ‘Experts See Decline in Russia’s Military’, The New York Times, 13 November. Olcott, Martha Brill (2000). ‘Russian–Chinese Relations and Central Asia’, in Sherman W. Garnett (ed.) Rapprochement or Rivalry? Russia–China Relations in a Changing Asia. Washington, DC: Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, pp. 371–402. Oliver, Christopher and Daniel Dombey (2009). ‘North Korea Threatens Attack amid Escalating Nuclear Dispute’, Financial Times, 28 May. Open Source Centre (2009). ‘Russian Officials Laud Partnership with China: Observers Question Lack of Strategy’, Johnson’s Russia List, #136, 20 July. Available at http:// www.cdi.org/russia/johnson/ (accessed 7 July 2010). Paine, S.C.M. (1996). Imperial Rivals: China, Russia and Their Disputed Frontier. Armonk, NY and London: M.E. Sharpe. Reuters (2009a). FACTBOX – Trade Relations between China and Russia, 15 June. Available at http://www.reuters.com/assets/print?aid=USLC527138 (accessed 8 July 2010). Reuters (2009b). ‘China to Open Pipeline to Turkmenistan’, The Moscow Times, 14 December. Ross, Robert S. (2004). ‘Bipolarity and Balancing in East Asia’, in T. V. Paul, James J. Wirtz, and Michel Fortmann (eds) Balance of Power: Theory and Practice in the 21st Century. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, pp. 267–304. Rozman, Gilbert (2004). ‘Russian Foreign Policy in Northeast Asia’, in Samuel S. Kim (ed.) The International Relations of Northeast Asia. Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield, pp. 319–48.

144 Russia and China in Eurasia Rubinstein, Alvin Z. (1997). ‘Russia’s Relations with North Korea’, in Stephen J. Blank and Alvin Z. Rubinstein (eds) Imperial Decline: Russia’s Changing Role in Asia. Durham, NC and London: Duke University Press, pp. 155–84. Segal, Gerald (1983). ‘The Soviet Union and Korea’, in Gerald Segal (ed.) The Soviet Union in East Asia: Predicaments of Power. London: Heinemann, pp. 70–87. Segal, Gerald (1985). Sino-Soviet Relations after Mao. Adelphi Paper 202. London: International Institute for Strategic Studies. Shambaugh, David (2003). ‘China and the Korean Peninsula: Playing for the Long Term’, The Washington Quarterly, vol. 26, no. 2, Spring, pp. 43–56. Stephan, John J. (1994). The Russian Far East: A History. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press. Sutter, Robert G. (2005). China’s Rise in Asia: Promises and Perils. Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield. Swanstrom, Niklas (2005). ‘China and Central Asia: A New Great Game or Traditional Vassal Relations?, Journal of Contemporary China, vol. 14, no. 45, November, pp. 569–84. Trenin, Dmitri (2000). ‘The China Factor: Challenge and Chance for Russia’, in Sherman W. Garnett (ed.) Rapprochement or Rivalry? Russo-China Relations in a Changing Asia. Washington, DC: Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, pp. 39–70. Trenin, Dmitri (2001). ‘Russia and the Future of Nuclear Policy’, in Burkard Schmitt (ed.) Nuclear Weapons: A New Great Debate. Chaillot Paper 48, July. Paris: Institute for Security Studies, Western European Union, pp. 103–26. Trenin, Dmitri (2002). The End of Eurasia: Russia on the Border between Geopolitics and Globalization. Washington, DC and Moscow: Carnegie Endowment for International Peace. Trenin, Dmitri (2005). Russia’s Nuclear Policy in the 21st Century Environment. Autumn. Moscow: The Carnegie Moscow Centre. Available at http://www.ifri.org/files/ Securite_defense/prolif_12_Trenin.pdf (accessed 8 July 2010). Trenin, Dmitri (2006). ‘Russia Leaves the West’, Foreign Affairs, vol. 85, no. 4, July/ August, pp. 87–96. Trenin, Dmitri (2007a). ‘Russia and Central Asia’, in Eugene Rumer, Dmitri Trenin, and Huasheng Zhao, Central Asia: Views from Washington, Moscow, and Beijing. Armonk, NY and London: M. E. Sharpe, pp. 75–136. Trenin, Dmitri (2007b). ‘Russia’s Threat Perceptions and Strategic Posture’, in Russian Security Strategy under Putin: U.S. and Russian Perspectives, November. Carlisle, PA: Strategic Studies Institute, US Army War College. Available at http://www.strate gicstudiesinstitute.army.mil/pdffiles/PUB829.pdf (accessed on 7 July 2010). Trenin, Dmitri (2008). ‘Pragmatic Power: Russia’s Assertive Foreign Policy’, Jane’s Intelligence Review, vol. 20, no. 1, January, pp. 32–5. Tsygankov, Andrei P. (2009). What Is China to Us? Westernizers and Sinophiles in Russian Foreign Policy. Russie Nei Visions, no. 45, December. Available at www.ifri.org/downloads/ifritsygankovengrussiachinanov2009.pdf (accessed on 7 July 2010). Umbach, Frank (2000). Russia’s Strategic and Military Interests in North and South East Asia. Berlin: Deutsche Gesellschaft für Auswartige Politik. Available at http://www.csl.army. mil/usacsl/publications/RW.pdf (accessed * July 2010). Verbitz, Max [pseudonym of a former Russian intelligence officer] (2006). ‘Russian– Chinese Military Cooperation: Can a Bear Trust a Dragon?’, Perspective, vol. XVI, no. 3, May. Available at http://www.bu.edu/iscip/vol16/verbitz.html (accessed on 7 July 2010).

John Berryman 145 Voskressenski, Aleksei D. (2003). Russia and China: A Theory of Inter-State Relations. London and New York: Routledge Curzon. Wilson, Jeanne L. (2004). Strategic Partners: Russia–Chinese Relations in the Post-Soviet Era. Armonk, NY and London: M. E. Sharpe. Wohlforth, William C. (2004). ‘Revisiting Balance of Power Theory in Central Eurasia’, in T. V. Paul, James J. Wirtz, and Michel Fortmann (eds) Balance of Power: Theory and Practice in the 21st Century. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, pp. 214–38. Yahuda, Michael (2004). The International Politics of the Asia–Pacific, 2nd rev. edn. London and New York: Routledge. Zhao, Huasheng (2007). ‘China and Central Asia’, in Eugene Rumer, Dmitri Trenin, and Huasheng Zhao, Central Asia: Views from Washington, Moscow, and Beijing. Armonk, NY and London: M. E. Sharpe, pp. 137–213.

7 India and Central Asia Amit Das Gupta

One might be misled to believe that Central Asia and India are linked most by history and cultural exchange – in the academic sphere interest in India’s Central Asia policy is rather limited, and media coverage is not much better. Nevertheless, the rulers in New Delhi, whether British or Indian, have always recognised the importance of developments in Central Asia for India’s security and economy. Whereas the British directly intervened in a number of cases in the nineteenth century, their successors have been keen to remain low key with their activities. This has been especially true for the years from 1990 onwards, when traditionally enigmatic power structures in Afghanistan became even more enigmatic. On other major fields of intense activity abroad – for example, its ambitions for a permanent seat in the UN Security Council or its Look East Policy – Indian diplomacy is largely public in nature, as that serves Indian interests and garners popularity at home at the same time. Openness in Indian policy in Central Asia, however, would hurt Indian interests abroad and would not pay off in Indian domestic affairs. Nevertheless, it seems that New Delhi gives the region top priority. Nowhere else is Indian policy so assertive and self-confident, risking more than irritations with major powers like the US and Russia and opposing external pressures. Still, for Central Asia there is no clear-cut Indian strategy: there is a vision of a stable, secular, and India-friendly Central Asia, which in the mid-term would make Pakistan a stable, secular, peaceful, and cooperative neighbour. India, however, not only lacks the means, but even an idea of how to achieve such goals. Notwithstanding parallel interests of Central Asian states and most external actors, India cannot have the illusion that other states have better concepts for solving the problems, thereby doing a favour. They simply lack the proper strategies and means to accomplish the job. There are three major aspects of New Delhi’s interest in the region: energy, security, and the regional balance of power. For most parts of the world Central Asia stands for vast energy resources, offering an alternative to those of the Gulf region, Africa, or Latin America. India, however, is geographically barred from direct access to gas and oil by a hostile Pakistan 146

Amit Das Gupta 147

and rival China, which are equally energy-hungry. Every overland pipeline would have to run through territory controlled by these two adversaries, with the Indo-Chinese border still unsettled and the Indo-Pakistani border delimited only in part. Secondly, India’s Central Asia policy is linked with security questions. Owing to the immediacy of the neighbourhood, this aspect is more relevant for India than for some other external players. From an Indian perspective the chaos in Afghanistan and Central Asia is just another metastasis of the Pakistani cancer, originating in the partition of 1947, which first infected Jammu and Kashmir. Therefore, New Delhi’s Central Asia policy in large part is an extension of its Kashmir and Pakistan policy. The Indian heartland itself has become a target for Islamist assaults. Since the 1980s neighbouring Pakistan, which lacks any chance of succeeding in a direct military confrontation with the South Asian giant, has pursued a jihadist policy. It has turned into a breeding ground, plus an easy transit route, for Islamist militants of all sorts. On 11 July 2006, a number of bomb explosions in local trains in Mumbai killed 181 people. On 26 November 2008, terrorists infiltrating from Karachi murdered another estimated 200 people in the same city. In both cases India determined that the Laskhar-e-Toiba were responsible; this is an Islamist group originally active only in Kashmir and based in Pakistan with links to the Taliban and al-Qaeda. The bomb attack against the Indian Embassy in Kabul on 7 July 2008 proved that the Taliban themselves see India as an enemy. Therefore, India has a strong interest in secular and stable governments all over Central Asia, although it is in no position to play the role of a protector. Finally, India’s Central Asia policy focuses on establishing a favourable regional balance of power, a concept, in which India’s Pakistan policy plays a dominant, though not the leading, role. Containing the Islamist threat together with the ambitions of Pakistan and Saudi Arabia is also in the interest of otherwise strongly competing actors like the US, Russia, Iran, and China – a fact that opens formerly unexpected opportunities for India’s diplomacy. New Delhi since 9/11 has been in the pleasant situation of receiving offer after offer of closer cooperation. As long as the regional power balance is in flux, this situation is likely to continue. It is that open scenario that has allowed India to take formerly unexpected steps, such as opening a military base in Tajikistan and forming coalitions including a close partnership with a pariah-like Iran, that have raised eyebrows in Moscow and Washington. Nevertheless, India has no simple answers concerning which policy to pursue towards Central Asia in the name of its own national interests and is fully aware that the job will have to be done mostly by others. Nevertheless, or maybe because of, the lack of a clear formula and aims, India is popular all over Central Asia. Whereas more powerful states – China, Russia, and the US – much as weaker ones – Pakistan and Iran – are suspected of manipulating the region for their own purposes, India with its

148 India and Central Asia

limited means is seen as a friendly neighbour and partner. Cooperation with New Delhi opens alternatives and room to manoeuvre, at least, and its ongoing economic boom is based on local conditions more comparable to those of Central Asian states than to those in the West. A certain familiarity of attitudes and mentalities, real or perceived, adds to that factor. India presents no danger, but is attractive because of its soft power (Hymans, 2009).

History Over millennia there has been a permanent exchange between Central and South Asia, starting with the migration of Aryans from Central Asia towards the Gangetic plain dating back to around 1700 BC. Whereas invaders always took the path from poor Central to rich South Asia, the exchange of traders, missionaries, and philosophers was mutual. Notwithstanding the geographical barrier of the Hindu Kush, people on both sides felt and feel that they have much in common. Typically in Indian novels people from Afghanistan are as much part of the local population as Bengalis, Tamils or Punjabis. The horse trader Mahbub Ali is one of the key figures in Rudyard Kipling’s world-famous Kim (Kipling, 1901), a novel concerning the British–Russian Great Game across Central Asia in the nineteenth century. Nobel Prize winner Rabindranath Tagore tells the story of the life of Rahmun, an Afghan hawker in Calcutta (Tagore, 1892). In the context of the present chapter, Afghanistan, which has no access to the sea, is treated as part of Central Asia, while most Indians see it as a South Asian country. When British colonial rule in South Asia ended with partition into the states of India and Pakistan in 1947, causing a never-ending fraternal feud, the Nehru government in New Delhi had even more reason to develop a keen interest in political friendship with Afghanistan. In 1950 a treaty of friendship was signed. Both countries were involved in border disputes with Pakistan – concerning Kashmir and Pashtoonistan respectively. Neither tensions at the Afghan–Pakistani border in 1961 nor the Indo-Pakistani wars of 1947, 1965, and 1971 caused any entanglement, but the neutral, in fact friendly, stand of the other country was well received. With India as the main market for Afghan exports Nehru was right to state that there was no particular point of difference in Indo-Afghan relations (Heimsath, 1971, pp. 193–4). The Soviet Republics of Central Asia were kept isolated throughout the Cold War period. After it had taken Moscow almost two decades to regain control over this part of the former Tsarist Empire following the Bolshevik Revolution (Schulze, 1994, pp. 100–8), the Soviets were keen to insulate ‘their’ Muslims from developments in the Islamic world, such as emancipation and decolonisation. Even for average citizens of countries of the Warsaw Pact travelling to Central Asia was highly restricted, if not off limits. With the Indo-Soviet relationship getting closer after 1955, however, Indians were granted greater access (Singh, 1986; Naik, 1995; Duncan, 1989). Whereas

Amit Das Gupta 149

Stalin had defamed Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru as a lackey of imperialism, Khrushchev discovered the non-aligned countries as potential partners, with India in a key role. The Soviet Union turned into a valuable partner over the years, offering political support against a hostile Pakistan and China, a veto in the UN Security Council when Kashmir was on the agenda, and sophisticated armaments. Moscow emphasised the Central Asia–South Asia link, presenting itself as an Asian power with a much better understanding of Asian affairs than the US. Typically Prime Minister Aleksey Nikolayevich Kosygin, in January 1966, highly symbolically mediated the Indo-Pakistani negotiations after the 1965 Kashmir War. Later on Moscow invited Indian musicians and artists to visit the Central Asian republics and brought young Indian academics to study at the universities there. It was the Soviet Union, however, that caused a decade-long interruption of Indo-Central Asian links. The intervention in Afghanistan in December 1979 created a situation most unwelcome for India. As a close partner of the USSR and at the same time traditionally claiming a leading role in the nonaligned movement, New Delhi had massive difficulties in finding a credible stand that neither condemned Moscow nor accepted the occupation of a non-aligned country (Roy, 1987, pp. 58–93). Even worse, Islamabad, as the hub of anti-Soviet resistance, received both Western arms and money in large amounts. In addition, Pakistan’s military nuclear programme, which formerly had been strongly criticised, was now ignored by the US (Kux, 2001, pp. 245–61). Right after the first bombs had become functional, South Asia in 1987 experienced its first nuclear crisis (Perkovich, 1999, pp. 277–82). With the retreat and later the collapse of the Soviet Union, the Pakistani concept of strategic depth took shape, with a friendly Afghanistan providing Pakistan a safe hinterland for any future military conflict with India (Kux, 2001, p. 282). With the establishment of the Taliban regime Islamabad seemed to be the winner of the Afghanistan war, whereas India’s stand had worsened significantly. Faced with the end of the Cold War, the dissolution of the Soviet Union and massive budgetary problems, New Delhi in the early 1990s opted for a comprehensive reorientation of its external affairs. Globalisation was no longer seen as a danger, but as a chance of which India made such effective use that today it ranks among the economic great powers in the new millennium. Lesser noticed than the economic reforms were major changes in the country’s foreign policy approach. Traditionally India had demonstrated a tendency to neglect its immediate neighbourhood, its great global visions accompanied by poor performance in Kashmir and Pakistan, Tibet, the border conflict with China and conflicted relations with Nepal, Bangladesh, or Myanmar. A new generation of politicians understood that an ambitious India could not afford to live in a hostile environment forever. The Look-East Policy was part of the foreign policy reorientation, bringing South-East Asia into focus after half a century of neglect. Although this policy has not led

150 India and Central Asia

far yet (Das Gupta, 2007), it has opened a field for interaction with friendly countries and trade partners. The Indian Central Asia policy had even more promising beginnings, with heads of states showing keen interest in winning partners in New Delhi. This, however, was overshadowed by the Taliban victory in Afghanistan. Nevertheless the Gujral doctrine from 1997 reformulated India’s neighbourhood policy, declaring that India in its relations with its minor neighbours would no longer demand reciprocity but give and accommodate what it could in good faith and trust. With 9/11 there came new chances to probe a new approach to a nearby region. Central Asia might be another way out of the South Asian deadlock in which India had been mired for more than half a century.

Energy India’s booming economy is energy-hungry, and domestic resources are not sufficient. For decades Indian coal fuelled its power plants. With a growing awareness of the environmental problems caused partly by low-quality coal and also by transport problems, the search for alternative energy sources is under way. The country’s ambitious civilian nuclear programme has not been able to cover more than a marginal percentage of its energy needs. Most nuclear fuels have to be imported, often linked with political problems. Major hydroelectric projects nowadays face massive public protests, the best-known example being the Narmada dam. Thus, India has been and is highly dependent on oil imports from the Middle East. As a developing country it has suffered more from oil-led price hikes since the 1970s than industrialised Western countries. Therefore, before the turn of the millennium the decision was taken to focus on natural gas as the major energy resource for India’s future. Theoretically, there are five exporters in the neighbourhood, namely, Bangladesh, Iran, Kazakhstan, Myanmar, and Turkmenistan in alphabetic order. In practice cooperation with only Iran, which again might function as a transit gate to Turkmenistan in the foreseeable future, has prospects of continuity. Bangladesh has already refused to cooperate with a major pipeline project linking that country with the Indian capital. Dacca is equally unwilling to let a gas pipeline from Myanmar to India pass through its territory, as Bangladesh attempts to build up huge domestic stocks of gas and then sell it to India later for much higher prices. This would be more than just a profitable business, also giving Dacca more weight in a bilateral relationship that currently is hopelessly asymmetric in favour of the giant neighbour. Against this background India’s fragile relationship with Myanmar is a secondary question. Looking north or north-west does not offer any better options. Relations with Kazakhstan, the most developed of the Central Asian countries, are good, and there is mutual interest in economic exchange. ONGC Videsh Ltd has a holding in the Alikbemola and the Kurmangazi oil fields (Alibekov, 2003).

Amit Das Gupta 151

Turkmenistan is equally interested in exporting natural gas. India, however, has no land connection with the eastern sections of Central Asia. Even worse, most of the border between India and either China or Pakistan, the only route available for transit, is still disputed. Thus, every pipeline project with Central Asia is linked not only with economic, but also to intractable political and juridical questions. Actually India could have had a border with Afghanistan and, thus, access to Central Asia, if Prime Minister Nehru in late 1948 had not decided to leave the solution of the Kashmir dispute to the UN. Nehru, a lawyer by profession and a man of principles, wanted to see Pakistan condemned by the international community for using force against a standstill agreement with the Maharaja of Kashmir and the rules of partition. There were pragmatic arguments, too. A continuation might have led to an all-out Indo-Pakistani war New Delhi was unwilling to pursue, and the interest of all parties involved focused on the Kashmir valley and the southern and eastern parts of the former princely state, not on the north and the west. With Nehru suggesting a partition of the state along the cease-fire line (Ganguly, 2002), India proved not to have much interest in driving out Pakistan from the 30-kilometre-broad strip separating it from Afghanistan. The UN Security Council, asked for the first time ever to solve a delicate territorial dispute, failed as it did in many other cases throughout the Cold War. Great power interests – in this case British support for Pakistan – played a decisive role. What may have looked like a bagatelle in 1948 had painful repercussions for India soon thereafter with future long-term effects. Instead of an Indo-Afghan there is a Sino-Pakistani border. Whereas India’s two main antagonists are linked by the Karakorum highway, India is barred from direct access to Afghanistan and, thus, from Central Asia. The Indian border with China has never been agreed upon in any part. The British had tried to impose the MacMahon Line at a conference at Simla in 1914, but no Chinese government has ever accepted it. After the Chinese occupation of Tibet in 1950–1 the formerly irrelevant question was discussed again, both sides coming up with maximum claims. With the short border war in 1962 Beijing taught India a painful lesson in realpolitik and kept Aksai Chin, a part of Kashmir it had occupied in the late 1950s. Because of the military standoff and the unwillingness of India to compromise the border dispute today is almost without practical relevance: India officially claims Aksai Chin, while China, not accepting the MacMahon Line, continues to question India’s presence in the North East Frontier Agency. Since the 1980s both sides have shown interest in détente and a settlement of the border question. For India, however, it is a matter of principle not to sign any agreement giving up territory claimed as Indian but taken by force. Thus, the border question comes in the way of planning pipelines from Kazakhstan via China. Indian proposals for an energy highway from Russia via Uzbekistan, Turkmenistan, and Kazakhstan, crossing the Indo-Chinese

152 India and Central Asia

border in Kashmir (Alibekov, 2003), have to be seen merely as tactical moves to isolate Pakistan. The alternative would be to put India’s energy imports in Pakistani hands with pipelines from Iran or Turkmenistan. Apart from Kashmir the Indo-Pakistani border is at least one that is agreed upon. Nevertheless, notwithstanding Pakistani assurances New Delhi hesitates to use this option: relations between them have been in crisis mode since 1947, and this is unlikely to change in the foreseeable future. Some have argued that economic cooperation has worked as a confidence-building measure in many other cases, for example, between France and Germany after 1945 (Pandian, 2005). It is true that Islamabad, having turned down all pipeline projects in the 1990s, in the new millennium has changed its mind for economic reasons. A Turkmen or Iranian pipeline would not make sense economically for a rather small market like Pakistan if there is no extension towards India. Transit fees would help Pakistan’s budgetary problems for many years. India, however, has not forgotten the lessons of history. Not only did Pakistan in 2001/2 close its air space and, thus, block direct Indian access to Central Asia, but ever since 1947, democratic or military governments in Pakistan have always opted to pursue political or security interests at the costs of economic concerns in relations with India. Economic cooperation and bilateral trade would have made sense from 1947 onwards, when partition cut off jute production from jute manufacturing, for example. The Indus Water Treaty of 1960 came close to an agreement about the border in Kashmir, as it regulated the use of the water of the rivers running through that territory. Foreign aid of more than one billion dollars allowed the construction of dams and canals, de facto fixing the respective territories. Nevertheless Ayub Khan started the fruitless second Kashmir War in 1965, thereby disrupting the flow of foreign aid and ending the most promising experience of development policy in the 1960s. The Kargil War in 1999 under the military command of Pervez Musharraf and the political leadership of Nawaz Sharif again aimed at altering the status quo, ending a thaw that included initiatives for economic cooperation. Pakistan is obsessed with India, and anti-Indian feelings are almost exclusively the glue keeping that heterogeneous country together. Even if a more rational-acting government came to power, it would likely lack support for a policy of economic cooperation with India. If India were to become a partner or friend, the legitimacy of Pakistan, founded as homeland for South Asian Muslims, who allegedly have no place in India, would be at stake. To make things worse, Pakistan might already be a failing state (Riedel, 2009). The country has never achieved domestic stability, oscillating between fragile civilian governments and periods of military rule. Suffering heavily from Islamism, drug-trafficking and other side-effects of the Afghanistan wars, the power structure in Pakistan has become even more enigmatic in recent years. Even if the army should manage to regain military control

Amit Das Gupta 153

within Pakistan, challenged fundamentally by the Taliban controlling parts of the tribal areas bordering Afghanistan and having taken over the Swat valley, there is little prospect of an end of violence. A pipeline would be a perfect target for all sorts of militants, aiming at India or the rulers in Islamabad itself. In Baluchistan, Pakistan’s westernmost province, through which an Indo-Iranian pipeline would have to run, for decades militants have been fighting for a separate state. Problems of that sort would be multiplied with a Turkmenistan–Afghanistan–Pakistan–India pipeline, proposed in the 1990s when there were hopes of ceasefire in Afghanistan (Kux, 2001, pp. 336–7). For the foreseeable future there will be no safe corridor through Afghanistan linking Turkmenistan and Pakistan. India’s only realistic alternative for gas imports from Central Asia or the Middle East is the sea route. Iran has developed an interest in cooperation with India for a number of reasons. It not only has vast resources of natural gas of its own, but offers the safest access to Central Asian natural gas from Turkmenistan. A tripartite agreement was signed, proposing the opening of a railway connection across the Iranian border together with a pipeline. Tehran is a difficult partner for almost everybody and cooperation in all fields tends to get massively criticised, most of all by the US (Blank, 2005). Indo-Iranian relations, however, have proved to be remarkably stable over the decades during the rule of both the Shah and the mullahs. Neither Iran’s attempts to organise arms for Pakistan from 1965 onwards nor the rather belated Indian decision to join the worldwide protests against Tehran’s nuclear ambitions, not even massive US pressure on New Delhi (Blank, 2005), have done much damage to that relationship. India is the major refiner of Iran’s raw oil. Politically even more relevant, it is a major partner for the Iranian civilian nuclear programme. Both oppose Pakistani attempts to install a friendly regime in Afghanistan, which like the Taliban would be predominantly Pashtun and orthodox – Tehran therefore has long been an active supporter of the Shiite minority in Herat province (Abbas, 2005, p. 79). Today Afghanistan is a much more important playground. Importing gas and oil from or via Iran, in fact, would be a cost-saving measure from another perspective. India is already involved in a naval arms race with China in the Indian Ocean, both mostly focusing on the access routes towards the Persian Gulf and its energy resources. With a blue-water fleet to be put in service in the near future, India feels strong enough for a major role in the region. Sino-Pakistani cooperation over the port of Gwardar in Baluchistan, however, has the potential to endanger safe routes for oil and gas from the Gulf and Central Asia. The Chinese have built the port, which became operational in early 2007, on a turn-key basis, planning to develop a naval base as well as starting the construction of a port for a pipeline for transporting Arab and African oil via Pakistan towards China, bypassing India and the whole of South-East Asia. Although at the moment neither the Chinese nor the rather marginal Pakistani navy pose a threat to India,

154 India and Central Asia

Gwardar in the future will become valuable. Pakistan’s present main port, Karachi, has proved to be vulnerable to Indian blockades and assaults, as when a combined air–sea attack in 1971 obliterated Pakistan’s oil reserves. India is fortunate in not having to pay a higher price for securing energy imports, as it has to protect the route from the Gulf anyway. With joint naval manoeuvres Tehran has already shown a willingness to shoulder its part of the burden. If Iran does not become unstable once again, India’s access to Central Asia’s energy resources via Iran seems to be rather safe. New Delhi is weighing two options – an underwater pipeline or the shipping of liquefied natural gas (LNG). The latter would make it necessary to build expensive infrastructure within India, but seems to be the preferred option. In June 2005 an Indo-Iranian agreement worth an estimated $22 billion was signed, guaranteeing New Delhi 5 million tons of LNG per year over a period of 25 years. Indian companies are already building Iran’s first LNG facility. In addition, India has been granted development rights in Iranian gas and oil fields (Blank, 2005; Kronstadt, 2006).

Security India’s security interests in Central Asia are mostly an aspect of its Pakistan policy. The ongoing conflict between the two countries has its roots in the partition of British India, which took place against the background of the incompatibility of two concepts of state: Jinnah’s two-nation theory declared it impossible for Muslims and Hindus to live together in one state, with religion being a permanent dividing line regardless of many other things they have in common. The Indian Union, on the contrary, followed the idea of a secular democracy where religion played no political role. Therefore Islamabad cannot accept the fact that there are more Muslims living in India than in Pakistan, whereas India questions the rationale of the existence of Pakistan. The bone of contention became the former princely state of Jammu and Kashmir. Because of the agreed rules of partition the accession in legal terms was incontestable, and both the Maharaja and the democratic opposition in Kashmir were in favour of India. Given the logic of splitting South Asia along religious lines, however, Pakistan had a claim for the Kashmir valley with its Muslim majority, the core of the disputed territory. In October 1947, only two months after gaining independence, India and Pakistan engaged in their first Kashmir war, followed by a second in 1965 and a third in 1999. As the state identities allow no mutually acceptable compromise for Kashmir, there is no solution for the foreseeable future. And there is no chance of a return to business as usual, as has taken place in Indo-Chinese relations: here a similar insoluble border dispute is partly ignored, as de facto both sides can live with the status quo established since late 1962. Any government in Pakistan, a country fundamentally lacking inner cohesion, ‘needs’ India as an enemy and the ‘just’ claim for Kashmir

Amit Das Gupta 155

to create domestic political support. After two failed attempts to conquer Kashmir in 1947 and 1965 and after the military defeat in 1971 Pakistan has resorted to a jihadi policy, supporting militants in order to keep the Indian part of Kashmir as unstable as possible, hoping that one day India might consider the costs of controlling the area too high. The failure of limited warfare in the Kargil sector in 1999 proved again that supporting terrorism is the only option to trouble India seriously. Indian security forces since the early 1980s have been engaged in asymmetric warfare against non-state actors with hardly camouflaged state backing. Ending cross-border terrorism by bombing training camps in Pakistan, if ever considered, became impossible with Pakistan’s nuclear bomb capability from 1986 onwards. This South Asian conflict acquired a Central Asian component with Pakistani successes in Afghanistan in the 1990s. India had played no role during the Soviet occupation, whereas its smaller neighbour had contacts in and intimate knowledge of that country after organising the resistance of the Mudjahideen over a decade. The US and its allies, including Arab states like Saudi Arabia, had delivered money and arms, but besides general monitoring by the CIA policy and decisions about which groups to support were left to Interservices Intelligences (ISI), Pakistan’s secret service (Rashid, 2000, p. 56, German version). After the pullback of the Red Army Islamabad was keen for a pro-Pakistani government to emerge, thus avoiding a revival of Indo-Afghan cooperation to the disadvantage of Pakistan. After a number of futile attempts to find trustworthy allies among the Afghan warlords in 1994 the Taliban entered the scene, quickly controlling most of the country. Until then India had distanced itself from the ever-changing coalitions of Afghan warlords rivalling for power. New Delhi now tried to establish friendly relations with all major players and recognised the Rabbani administration, strictly avoiding taking sides. With the rise of the Taliban this strategy had become futile. India feared pro-Pakistani Islamist governments, not only in Afghanistan, but in the former Soviet republics. This would not only have had the potential to change the power constellation in South Asia, but also could have led to a massive spillover of militants fighting for the ‘Muslim cause’ in Kashmir. India had no means to attack the bases of the militants in Pakistan, and acting via the US proved useless: after renewed attacks in Jammu and Kashmir New Delhi pushed Washington in 1992–3 to place Pakistan on the list of those countries supporting terrorism. Islamabad found an easy solution: the training camps of groups like the Jammu and Kashmir Liberation Front or the Laskhar-eToiba, against paying the shura, the council of the local religious leaders, in Jalalabad, and later the Taliban, were relocated to Afghanistan. Thus India remained a target for militants who now could prepare their assaults from a safe distance in bases in Pakistan’s backyard, using the latter as transit country. After 1996 Pakistan encouraged Osama bin Laden to support bases of Kashmir militants in Khost (Rashid, 2000, p. 303, German version). Indian attempts to

156 India and Central Asia

back opponents of the Taliban proved to be futile, too, although New Delhi acted together with Moscow and Beijing. The Clinton Administration had much more leverage in Afghanistan and took a favourable stand towards the Taliban, which seemed to guarantee law and order, and an end of drug trafficking, and was even seen as a reliable partner for pipeline projects (Rashid, 2000, pp. 280–98, German version). Notwithstanding the fact that it sent spare parts for fighter jets and radar installations and opened a secret hospital at Farkhor in Tajikistan, India witnessed the Pashtun Islamists gaining control over the country, except for the Panjshir valley where the Northern Alliance under Ahmad Shah Massoud did not give up its resistance. Whereas Afghanistan until 9/11 was hopeless from an Indian perspective, there was some progress in cooperation with the former Soviet republics in Central Asia. As a result of the decades-long friendship with the Soviet Union there were many Indians who had studied at Central Asian universities or had visited those countries through exchange programmes. As Russian remained the lingua franca in the region, Pakistanis were disadvantaged, whereas there were enough Indians with sufficient language skills to establish contacts. Moreover, after decades of Soviet rule Central Asians do not show much interest in the stricter interpretations of Islam practised in Pakistan. If at all, they follow the liberal khanafit mazkhab or theological law school (Allison, 2001, p. 63). The Indian way of life, with religion being a private affair, seemed to be much more attractive, and the general Indian knowledge of Soviet day-to-day life helped in establishing contacts. Since most of the new Central Asian leaders were former communists, both sides also knew each other. Both camps saw the opportunity and reacted quickly. Even before the collapse of the Soviet Union and formal independence Islam Karimov, president of Uzbekistan, visited India in August 1991, and was there at the time of the coup in Moscow on 19 August. In April 1992 President Niyazov of Turkmenistan, in February 1993 Prime Minister Abudallojanov of Tajikistan and in July 1993 President Nazerbayev of Kazakhstan followed. Kyrgyzstan sent its foreign minister in late 1993. India signed agreements on political relations, bilateral trade, economic and technological cooperation, and cultural exchange with all those Central Asian countries. It also offered training facilities for diplomats, administrators, businessmen, and bankers. Notwithstanding problems with security and infrastructure, India hastened to open embassies in Central Asia. In late May 1993 Prime Minister Rao made the first ever state visits by an Indian leader to Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, and Tajikistan. India was seeking access to new markets in addition to countering Pakistani diplomatic efforts (Dixit, 1996, pp. 291–5). India, thus, managed to gain a foothold in Afghanistan’s backyard, but not in Afghanistan itself. The victory of the Taliban, seen as Pakistan’s mercenaries, meant a major setback. The Taliban organised an Islamist network, not only virulently anti-Western, but also anti-Indian. The nadir was reached when, on 24 December 1999, members of the Pakistan-based jihadi group Harkat

Amit Das Gupta 157

ul Ansar hijacked an Indian Airlines flight from Kathmandu carrying 189 passengers, most of them Indian, and demanded the release of militants from Indian prisons. The hijackers finally landed at Kandahar airport, where the Taliban offered full support. It seemed that Afghanistan had become a safe hinterland for Pakistan’s anti-Indian jihad. Indian hopes that the collision of Afghan and Pakistani national interests would sooner or later result in the Afghan government turning hostile towards Islamabad did not manifest until after 9/11. In any event New Delhi did not recognise the Taliban government and supported the Northern Alliance via Tajikistan, its entry point into Central Asia at the time. At Farkhor a secret hospital was opened in 1997 to treat injured troops of the Northern Alliance, thereby providing the chance for a regular exchange between that Alliance and Indian military advisers (Ramachandran, 2007). The terrorist attacks in the US on 9/11 initially resulted in tilting the constellation in Afghanistan in India’s favour. The ousting of the Taliban regime meant a painful defeat for Pakistan, which was forced within days to accept the US-led international coalition, very much against the mood in Pakistan itself. Otherwise Pakistan, the hatchery of the Taliban, most probably would have been chosen as a target too. Nevertheless, Pakistan lost credibility when it became obvious that it supported the Taliban with thousands of military advisers and secret service agents. It seemed that Islamabad’s strategy of strategic depth had suffered a final defeat. India was among the first states to establish diplomatic relations with the Karzai government and since then has played a remarkably active role in the reconstruction in Afghanistan, among others sponsoring a conference under the framework of the Petersberg process.

Regional balance of power India has given clear indication of its willingness to play a major role in Central Asian affairs. For half a century India strongly criticised the existence of foreign military bases abroad, especially in Asia. The formerly secret hospital at Farkhor in Tajikistan has been complemented today by a number of military advisers, forming a de facto military base only two kilometres from the Afghan border (Times of India, 2006). In 2002, however, an Indian air base at Ayni near Tajikistan’s capital Dushanbe became operational in the immediate neighbourhood of a Russian base. The Indian Air Force is planning to station up to 14 MiG-29 fighter bombers there. Expectations of ground troops following soon seem to be justified, given the insecure environment of that base. Besides stationing fighter bombers on the basis of an April 2002 defence agreement India also trains the Tajikistan Air Force and helps to retrofit fighter aircraft from Soviet times. The base came into being as a result of the blockade of Pakistani air space in 2001–2 when India wanted to demonstrate it could circumvent that restriction. It also afforded

158 India and Central Asia

the Indian Air Force the capability of striking Pakistan from the north. Containing Islamists in Central Asia is another motivation. Nevertheless, compared to other military forces in the region, the Indian base is an irrelevance. India’s presence therefore has to be understood as a claim to have a say in Central Asian affairs. New Delhi is interested in developing a new power grid of Central and South Asian states. Until 1990 India had no active local partners besides the USSR. Security cooperation with Central and South Asian countries, based on parallel interests, would do much to extend India’s projection of power and create a sort of buffer in the north, curiously not between India and its antagonists Pakistan and China, but behind them. Those plans are supported by the US (Blank, 2006). Initially Moscow had been supportive as well. However, since 1997 it has criticised the Indian base and tried to make Tajikistan revoke access to it. New Delhi’s proposed power projection might conflict with Russian ambitions. The possible reorientation of India’s arms imports policy away from the traditional Russian partners towards the US in the context of the Indo-US rapprochement is also influencing IndoRussian relations in a negative way (Blank, 2008). On 16 March 2009 India signed a $2.1 billion deal to import anti-submarine aircraft P-8A ‘Poseidon’ (Stratfor, 2009). There are other developments in the military field that may also come in the way of other powers. China, for example, is facing Indian competition in the sale of small arms to Central Asian states, and Indo-Iranian joint naval manoeuvres cannot be to the liking of the US. Joint manoeuvres have also taken place with Uzbekistan and Kazakhstan, both countries asking for full Indian membership in the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation, which might face opposition from China and its ally Pakistan. Whereas Pakistan and Iran are hoping for full membership in that organisation, India, however, has not yet shown interest in more than the current observer status. India’s active Central Asia policy actually does not come as a surprise. Since the 1990s the country has been attempting to find partners beyond its immediate borders. As problems with immediate neighbours are of structural or a long-term nature, New Delhi finds it easier to establish good relations with countries some distance away. The Look-East Policy is one feature of the new diplomacy, and another is the build-up of a blue-water fleet. In the 1990s India declared that Central Asia was a region in which its natural interests are at stake. Close links with Tajikistan date back to the time of Taliban rule in Afghanistan, and those with Uzbekistan and Kazakhstan, both sharing India’s interests in limiting foreign influence and fighting Islamists, have been well established in the new millennium. Good relations with Karzai’s Afghanistan rank high on the agenda. India was among the first to recognise the new Afghani government and offers loans and economic cooperation. Altogether, from the perspective of the Central Asian states India is most welcome in the region.

Amit Das Gupta 159

Relations with the external players in Central Asia are more difficult. New Delhi prefers there to be no single dominant external player, as this would limit its own room to manoeuvre. For a power with limited capacities and difficult access to the region it seems best if a number of powers sharing India’s main interests balance each other. Indo-Russian relations concerning Central Asia, for example, have taken a bad turn, although the Indian Air Force relies significantly on Soviet/Russian planes, and the backbone of the Indian blue sea fleet will be carriers of Russian origin. In other areas cooperation with Russia has diminished, demonstrating to the US that India opposes any hegemonial attempts by Russia. With the Indian military presence in Central Asia New Delhi and Moscow seem to have become open rivals for influence. Iran, on the contrary, has turned into a valuable partner. Besides providing the only reliable entrance port for India towards that region today, Tehran is continuing to play an active role in limiting the Taliban in Afghanistan. Iran, as protector of the Hazara–Shia minority, thereby has more of a legitimate interest there than the US or NATO. The same is true for Tehran’s attempts to establish close relations with Tajikistan, a Farsi-speaking country. It is to India’s benefit that Iran is shouldering its part of stabilising Central Asia even when at the same time it is the declared enemy of the US, India’s imperative being that the region not be dominated by a single external power. In January 2003 India and Iran launched a ‘strategic partnership’ (Kronstadt, 2006). Chinese involvement in Central Asia is problematic for India. At the same time it offers completely new perspectives. The fact that, unlike India, Beijing, with direct access to Kazakhstan, is profiting from Central Asian energy resources (Blank, 2005) against the background of the economic competition of the two Asian giants is not welcome. To this point China has been making much better use of the Central Asian opportunities. In the context of the proposed strategic rivalry the Chinese opportunity to extend its influence westwards is critical. On the other hand, for the first time since 1962 China has developed a common interest with the West and India against Pakistan, which has been its main tool to contain India. Pakistanbased jihadis are no longer focusing only on Afghanistan and Kashmir, but also on Chinese Sinkiang. Muslim Uighurs from that province are known to have been trained in Pakistan and to have joined Taliban forces. Facing massive problems in Sinkiang and Tibet recently, Beijing might consider a modification of its Pakistan policy, thereby doing India a favour. The change in US policy towards Afghanistan after 9/11 was openly welcomed by India, which offered refuelling of US planes during the war. Official voices in New Delhi have already declared that they would like to see the Americans stay in the neighbourhood, including Pakistan. This is partly related to the US rediscovery of India manifested in the nuclear deal in 2005. After 9/11 India was pleased with the (temporary) ousting of the Taliban, at the same time strongly criticising US support for Pakistan, including arms

160 India and Central Asia

deliveries, which in Indian eyes was the root of the problem in Afghanistan. With the US policy tilting more and more towards the Indian view, including bombardments of Pakistan’s border regions, Indian hopes for a major change in Pakistan rest on Washington. President George W. Bush had approved secret orders to allow the US military to conduct ground assaults in Pakistan without asking for Islamabad’s consent in advance, notwithstanding Pakistani protests (Siddique, 2008). The US Congress had questioned the logic of providing F-16 fighter jets in the context of counter-terror programmes in summer 2008 (Kucera, 2008). The Obama Administration has shown interest in deepening the cooperation with India further, sending CIA Director Panetta to New Delhi in March 2009, in order to establish a link with the Indian secret service Research and Analysis Wing (RAW). The George W. Bush Administration had already lost confidence in the Pakistani military and secret services, known to be supporting the Taliban and al-Qaeda and leaking information to them about planned US assaults. It seems that it is not only the US tilting towards India, whose engagement in fighting Islamists is beyond doubt. Meanwhile Turkey, one of the minor outside actors and a member of NATO, has openly asked for Indian assistance in fighting Islamists. NATO itself, especially its European members, has not taken a clear decision concerning what it stands for in Afghanistan. In late 2008 ISAF command declared it would not join the attacks of US troops across the Pakistani border. As long as NATO’s role remains uncertain, it offers no partnership value for India, which most likely would like to see a closer cooperation with European members in the context of the favourable stand of the EU towards the Indo-Pakistani quarrels and the Kashmir dispute (Das Gupta, 2009). Since the US signed a defence agreement with Pakistan in 1954, it has been regularly criticised by India for futilely interfering in South Asian affairs and altering the balance of power in the region. Today New Delhi is pleased about the US presence in Afghanistan and massive US pressure on Islamabad, in order to end the increasingly suicidal jihadi policy of the last three decades. Having no recipe of its own to cure the Pakistani disease, India cannot expect that Washington has one. The US, however, is the only sort of guarantee against a further drift of that country towards chaos, including the abuse of its nuclear weapons.

Conclusion On first impression one could easily argue that for India Central Asia offers hardly any opportunities: energy resources are out of reach for the foreseeable future and New Delhi has no means to contain the spread of Islamist militancy, for which it is most likely going to continue to pay in lives lost. Whereas relations with all Central Asian states are good, India is and is going to be among the less influential external players in the region.

Amit Das Gupta 161

From an Indian perspective all major problems with Central Asia are inevitably linked with Pakistan. For over six decades New Delhi has neither found a lasting solution with that opponent nor has developed guiding ideas to handle it in a manner that would serve Indian national interests. Given that state of affairs one might expect a Central Asia policy focusing on damage control. Sitting on the fence and waiting for things to change would be a predictable response in line with the traditions of Indian diplomacy, as often noted with complaints by more active or less patient Western partners. Broadly speaking, India would prefer a stable and easily accessible Central Asia with secular governments not under the control of an outside power. And such a peaceful Central Asia would have a similarly peaceful and stable Pakistan as a neighbour towards the south. New Delhi, however, knows well that this is a fantasy, and Pakistani instability will cause further instability in Afghanistan and beyond. There is no strategy to overcome this; there are no illusions about the fact that contemporary Pakistan is held together by not much more than a deep-rooted distrust of India, forcing every government in Islamabad to follow a basically anti-Indian policy, whether it is otherwise rational or not. Keeping Pakistan weak may lead to further instability of that nuclear power with unforeseeable consequences for India’s security. Stabilising the neighbour, on the other hand, might encourage openly threatening postures of the sort experienced more than once in the 1990s or another probing of limited warfare, as in 1999 in Kashmir. Recent Indian governments, however, for the first time since independence have opted to take part in the game of the great powers beyond South Asia. The dimensions of this engagement are remarkable, with the opening of the first-ever military base abroad as a demonstration of self-confidence. US sensitivities towards Indo-Iranian links are ignored. New Delhi is also risking alienating the old ally Russia without having found a partner of comparable weight. The new India feels strong enough to act on its own and, in addition, to project its power in regions formerly far beyond the horizon. How does the apparent lack of prospects in Central Asia fit with such a policy? Taking unfavourable conditions in Central Asia and Pakistan as a given and choosing a realist perspective, one ironically can still conclude that India is among those who have profited from recent developments in Central Asia. India’s problems with Pakistan are going to last, but they have become the troubles of the most important powers of the globe, so a part of the job of containing that danger has been taken over by them. Today the West, Russia, and China in parallel efforts are keen to oust Islamists from Central Asia and Pakistan, thus acting in India’s favour. Whether the more influential powers are going to be successful is yet to be seen and India cannot be a detached bystander. New Delhi, however, is profiting anyway: defaming Pakistan as the hatchery of cross-border terrorism did not work before 9/11. Today India is the ‘good guy’, and not only in South Asia. The US and the EU have accepted India’s point of view, having become

162 India and Central Asia

economic and political partners of a quality that India has never had before. India has become attractive. Moreover, the shaky power structure in Central Asia offers chances for extending influence far beyond India’s borders. India is not able to solve problems with Pakistan (and China). Instead it has decided to vault the Chinese–Pakistani wall in order to build up a lasting position behind them. This will take time. Therefore, actually India cannot have an interest in true stability in Central Asia, so long as the threat from Pakistan exists. The window of opportunity to escape being restricted to South Asia might close, when the US and NATO pull back their troops. Islamist militancy is threatening India, but at the same time keeps Western forces in the immediate neighbourhood. For the time being great power rivalry for energy resources combined with great power cooperation against Islamists serves India’s interests best.

References Abbas, Hassan (2005). Pakistan’s Drift into Extremism: Allah, the Army, and America’s War on Terror. Armonk, NY: M. E. Sharpe. Alibekov, Ibragim (2003). ‘India Set to Expand Presence in Central Asia’, Eurasianet, 3 December. Available at http://www.eurasianet.org/departments/business/articles/ eav120303.shtml (accessed 8 July 2010). Allison, Roy and Jonson, Lena (eds) (2001). Central Asian Security: The New International Context. Washington, DC: Brookings Institution. Blank, Stephen (2005). ‘Central Asia’s Energy Game Intensifies’, Eurasianet, 9 January. Available at www.eurasianet.org/departments/insight/articles/eav090105.shtml (accessed 8 July 2010). Blank, Stephen (2006). ‘India: The New Central Asian Player’, Eurasianet, 26 June. Available at http://www.eurasianet.org/departments/insight/articles/eav062606a. shtml (accessed 8 July 2010). Blank, Stephen (2008). ‘Russian––Indian Row over Tajik Base Suggests Moscow Caught in Diplomatic Vicious Cycle’, Eurasianet, 11 January. Available at http://www.eurasianet. org/departments/insight/articles/eav011108f.shtml (accessed 8 July 2010). Das Gupta, Amit (2007). ‘Indiens strategische Versäumnisse in Südostasien’, Südostasien 4/2007, pp. 8–10. Das Gupta, Amit (2009). ‘The European Union and India’, in E. Kanet (ed.) The United States and Europe in a Changing World. Doordrecht: Republic of Letters Publishing, pp. 165–84. Dixit, Jyotindra Nath (1996). My South Block Years: Memoirs of a Foreign Secretary. New Delhi: UBS Publishers’ Distributors Limited. Duncan, Peter J. S. (1989). The Soviet Union and India. London: Routledge. Ganguly, Sumit (2002). Conflict Unending: India–Pakistan Tensions since 1947. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Heimsath, Charles and Mansingh, Surjit (1971). A Diplomatic History of Modern India. Bombay: Allied Publishers. Hymans, Jacques E. C. (2009). ‘India’s Soft Power and Vulnerability’, India Review, vol. 8, no. 3, July–September, pp. 234–65. Kipling, Rudyard (2001). Kim. New York: Doubleday, Page & Company.

Amit Das Gupta 163 Kucera, Joshua (2008). ‘US Congress Questions Military Aid to Pakistan, Saying It Won’t Help Fighting Afghan Militants’, Eurasianet, 18 September. Available at www.eurasianet.org/departments/insight/articles/eav091808.shtml (accessed 8 July 2010). Kux, Dennis (2001). The United States and Pakistan 1947–2000: Disenchanted Allies. Washington, DC: Woodrow Wilson Press. Naik, J. A. (1995). Russia’s Policy towards India: From Stalin to Yeltsin. New Delhi: M. D. Publications Pvt Ltd. Pandian, S. G. (2005). ‘Energy Trade as Confidence-Building Measure between India and Pakistan: A Study of the Indo-Iran Trans-Pakistan Pipeline Project’, Contemporary South Asia, vol. 14, no. 3, September, pp. 307–20. Perkovich, George (1999). India’s Nuclear Bomb: The Impact on Global Proliferation. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Ramachandran, Sudha (2007). ‘India Makes a Soft Landing in Tajikistan’, Asia Times Online, 3 March. Available at http://www.atimes.com/atimes/South_Asia/IC03Df01. html (accessed 8 July 2010). Rashid, Ahmed (2000). Taliban. Islam, Oil and the New Great Game in Central Asia. London: I. B. Tauris Publishers. cited from the German edition: Taliban. Afghanistans Gotteskrieger und der Dschihad. Munich: Droemer Verlag, 2001. Riedel, Bruce (2009). ‘Armageddon in Islamabad’, The National Interest, no. 102, July/ August, pp. 9–18. Roy, Arundhati (1987). The Soviet Intervention in Afghanistan: Causes, Consequences and India’s Response. New Delhi: Associated Publishing House. Schulze, Reinhard (1994). Geschichte der islamischen Welt im 20. Jahrhundert. Muenchen, C. H. Beck. Siddique, Abubakar and Synovitz, Ron (2008). ‘US Commander Calls for Operations in Pakistani Tribal Regions’, Eurasianet, 9 December. Available at www.eurasianet. org/departments/insight/articles/pp091208.shtml (accessed 8 July 2010). Singh, S. Nihal (1986). The Yogi and the Bear: A Study of Indo-Soviet Relations. Glenn Dale, MD: Riverdale Company. Tagore, Rabindranath (1892). Kabuliwallah. Available at http://www.readbookonline. net/readOnLine/980/ (accessed 8 July 2010).

8 Eurasia between Russia, Turkey, and Iran Mohiaddin Mesbahi

Introduction ‘Marg bar Roosyieh!’ (‘Death to Russia!’), ‘Roosyeh, Roosyeh hayaa kon keshvar-e mano rahaa kon!’ (‘Russia, Russia shame on you! Let go of my country!’), so shouted thousands of demonstrators in the tumultuous aftermath of the controversial Iranian elections in June 2009. Burning the Russian flag, calling Putin a dictator, invoking analogies of Russian brutality in Chechnya and the techniques used by the Iranian riot control police, and widely held beliefs that Russian intelligence collaborated closely with their Iranian counterparts to suppress the Green Movement, have ironically been complemented by official expressions of displeasure over a range of recent Russian policies, broken promises, and inconsistencies. All this points to the critical and complex relations between Tehran and Moscow that are embedded in centuries of competition, dominance, territorial acquisition, and loss, despite the imperatives of mutual needs, cooperation, accommodation, and even ‘strategic’ partnership. The irony of anti-Russian feeling and the obvious tension challenging the ‘strategic partnership’ that developed in recent years and was hailed by Moscow and especially by Tehran so many times, was compounded by the stunning twist in Turkish–Iranian relations signified by the high-level and extensively covered summit between Iranian and Turkish leaders. The old Ottoman–Safavid/Qajar rivalry, dormant during the Pahlavi period and resuscitated after the Iranian revolution, has now been transformed into an emerging solid regional friendship and even ‘partnership’. The Russians and Turks, while cognisant of their structural and issue-specific rivalry, are engaged in complex but dynamically positive relations both bilaterally and regionally. While each of these significant regional players has extensive bilateral ties and relations, their larger place in the global system is decided to a significant degree at the juncture of the two interconnected regional complexes of the Middle East and Central Asia/the Caucasus and at the nexus and symbiosis of the emerging geopolitics, geo-economics, and geoculture of Eurasia as a 164

Mohiaddin Mesbahi 165

megaregional complex. This chapter will look into the general interactions and place of the three actors in the critical geopolitics of Eurasia.

Russia, Turkey, and Iran: The Eurasian context To understand the specific characteristics of Iran’s and Turkey’s relations with Russia and their tripartite relations and interactions in Eurasia, we need a multidimensional conceptual framework within which these tripartite relations and dynamics can be situated and framed. First, this framework should acknowledge the triangle and symbiosis of geopolitics, geo-economics and geocultural dynamics of Eurasia and the role and impact of these three players in it; second, it should consider Eurasia (post-Soviet space including Central Asia and the Caucasus) as a megaregional complex (Buzan and Waever, 2005), and; third, it should recognize the hyper/ambitious activism of regional and global players in this megaregional complex. Geopolitically Eurasia is in a transitional phase – a phase that started with the collapse of systemic equilibrium after the demise of the Soviet Union, which opened the window for a ‘moment’ of unipolarity in the global system and the disruption of the Russian-centric Eurasian balance of power and potential for a permanent new geopolitics, especially in the 1990s. With the global unipolar moment constrained after the erosion and the entrapment of US military and political energy in the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, the window of opportunity for reshaping a new Eurasian balance of power seems to be closing. Russia is determined and on its way to at least prevent the strategic erosion of the post-Soviet era and is ambitiously hoping for a consolidation of its recent gains and for a new version of an old and historical Russian-centric Eurasian set-up – notwithstanding the US regional influence and ultimately the imposing presence of China. In this Russian reassertion, a significant role has been played by the US–Iran hostility, which has delivered an unprecedented and unexpected opportunity to Moscow for global and regional strategic manoeuvres. Geo-economically, Eurasia (Russia included) missed the opportunity to become a magnet for global capital investment; there was neither a Marshall Plan nor a native normative paradigm and material infrastructure to deliver the promises of a ‘free market’ in production and trade. Thus, within the global division of labour, Eurasia, the domain of an ‘underdeveloped’ superpower until its collapse in 1991, was relegated to its ‘developing’ status as an important ‘raw material producing region’ (Frank, 1994, pp. 45–72). Access to the energy resources of the region and their delivery to markets through pipelines, their control and manipulation as a strategic tool, both regionally and globally, has become the most salient geo-economic characteristic of the region. The Russian ‘petro state’ (Goldman, 2008) as a key monopolizer of production and access, is the leading force in this geo-economics, the US/ Europe are major competitors in both access and alternative delivery, and

166 Eurasia between Russia, Turkey and Iran

Turkey and Iran are regional players with hopeful ambitions and projects. Turkey has made significant gain, while Iran has been the big loser. China, a consuming giant, is the over-the-horizon key energy player, which, in typical nonassertive frame, is connecting with the Eurasian delivery system (Maybodi and Esmaeili, 2008), while closing the circle with an aggressive energy policy in the Persian Gulf via Iran and Saudi Arabia and other regional states. While Russia remains a key economic factor in the region, in terms of investment, financial, and corporate ties, Turkey, and especially Iran, are far behind. Though Turkey has improved the level of economic engagement significantly, the political significance of its economic ties remains incommensurate. Geoculturally, that is, normatively/ideationally (avoiding the word ideology as it carries important historical baggage and limitations), Eurasia presents a very complex picture. Several normative and ideational trends and dynamics, both at the state and non-state levels, are concurrent and symbiotically interactive. Political authoritarianism and ‘statism’, both as a remnant of the Soviet system and as a native post-communist political production rediscovered and reproduced after the Soviet collapse, are well entrenched. Russia’s haphazard ‘westernization and democratization’ ended with Putinism, while the rest of Eurasia went through the same trajectory, either faster or at a slower pace of intensity and quality. Western ideational and normative interest in the region was neither ever serious as a strategic geocultural objective – the ‘democratic peace’ theory and neoliberalism of the 1990s assertions notwithstanding – nor could it survive the historical dual traps/challenges of the Western encounters with the authoritarian regimes, namely the priority of security and economic interests over ideational and normative considerations. This traditional and familiar dual trap was compounded in the last two decades of the twentieth century, and especially after the collapse of communism and even more so after 9/11 in Eurasia, by the total securitization of Islam. The Islamic threat has become the normative framework of an overwhelming intraregional discourse and the global narrative about the region by major actors. Variations on the ‘Islamic factor’, its meaning and utility, especially in the context of the ‘war on terror’, are being presented by a host of regional and global players. Alliances and cooperation, bilateral or institutional, temporary or more permanent, are forged or promised by likeminded or strange bedfellows. ‘Reward structures’ (Mesbahi, 2001, p. 157) are created and utilized. Great powers such as Russia, the US, and China have been involved in the production and utilization of the idea of the ‘Islamic threat’ in the region, Turkey and Iran have significant stakes in either side of this normative equation, while regional states have learned to participate in its production and utility for their own domestic and foreign policy strategies and choices. In addition to authoritarianism and the Islamic threat, anti-Americanism and the critique of Western and US interventionism and unilateralism,

Mohiaddin Mesbahi 167

especially after the invasion of Iraq and its aftermath, have survived the collapse of the Cold War, and as a state-driven discourse, especially initiated by Russia under Putin, and strongly supported by Iran, China and others, has found its way in the normative construct of the region. This normative construct is complex and uneven among actors, and fraught with miscalculations and unmet expectations (especially on its impact on Russian–Iranian relations), but with the addition of Turkey’s new ideational language to this mix – along with unmet expectations among the frustrated public over Western duplicity and double standards – it has become an important ingredient of this geocultural frame in the region. The ironic twist of this anti-Americanism and anti-Westernism is that it has both state and non-state constituencies. One of the key components of this anti-American rhetoric, especially pushed and articulated by Russia and supported by Iran, is the connection between democratization discourse and policies and accusations of its use by the West, and especially the US, for manipulation of the political process and social engineering, and thus geopolitical gains via normative domestic shifts. This, as will be discussed later, is particularly consequential in affecting the ideational basis of Russian–Iranian relations, and the overall proximity of the Russian–Iranian–Chinese normative understanding of the US/Western approach in Eurasia. An historical anti-Russian feeling is certainly part of the normative regional discourse and has been especially encouraged by Western powers in encroaching on the Russian historical sphere of influence. Anti-Russianism, however, is being ignored or downplayed by Iran, Turkey, and China. Ironically, Russian domination and control, one of the most normative intraregional geocultural legacies in Eurasia, has been overshadowed by other ideational trends. Thus, for example, the Russian war on Chechnya (Gillgan, 2009; Russel, 2007), one of the most brutal in contemporary history, did not have the corresponding impact, thanks to a growing anti-American discourse. The symbiosis of this triangle of geopolitics, geo-economics, and geoculture is embedded geographically in a megaregional complex. Eurasia is a regional complex, since it has all the geopolitical, ethno-territorial, and sociopolitical ingredients for fragmentation, conflict, and a quick recourse to coercion and the use of force by a variety of actors, as witnessed by the host of military clashes in the post-Soviet period from early ethnic clashes in the Fergana Valley, the civil war in Tajikistan, the Azeri–Armenian conflict over Nagorno-Karabakh, the Chechen wars, to the Russian–Georgia war. The region is, thus, subject to regional and great power formal and informal alliances, military and security relations and promises, and competition over military and strategic access. It is ‘mega’ since its regional dynamics affect and are clearly and directly affected by two major adjacent regions, South Asia and the Persian Gulf/Middle East. Issues and trends and developments in South Asia and the Middle East are transmitted and transplanted

168 Eurasia between Russia, Turkey and Iran

to Eurasia not only via traditional Russian interests (Kreutz, 2006; Laqueur, 1959; Dawisha and Dawisha, 1982) in those two regions, but by Iran and Turkey as two pivotal regional states, especially after the end of the Cold War. US involvement, simultaneously in South Asia and the Middle East, which critically engages Iran, and affects and involves Russia and Turkey, has added the critical strategic ingredient that makes the region part of a ‘mature’ megaregional complex, one with a propensity for conflict, the absence of a regional framework for sustained cooperation, bilateral freedom of action, opportunistic relations, and thus intense competitiveness and potential for conflict. It is against this overarching background that Turkey, Iran and their interactions with Russia and Eurasia will be discussed.

Turkey, Iran, and Russia: The view from Moscow Russia’s historical view of Turkey and Iran has two broad dimensions: first, Moscow has always looked at these two states as either hostile or competitive, either on their own or as part of a larger anti-Russian Western-inspired alliance and coalition; second, Russia has consistently held a degree of ‘contempt’, superiority and distance, diplomatically, culturally, and strategically towards both states. While Russia’s deeper imagination of Muslims in general is formed by the mythology and realities of foreboding fear, respect and hostility, accommodation, encirclement and domination, the current Russian elite has registered an historical socialization with both the Turks and the Persians, the Ottomans and the Qajars, in terms of decay and weakness, and in the case of Iran, contempt and control. While the imperial memory of the ‘sick man of Europe’ is somewhat more sympathetic and respectful towards Turkey, Russian attitudes towards Persia were more heavy-handed. The occupation and annexation of Persian territory in the Caucasus (Kazemzadeh, 1968; Ramazani, 1966) was complemented by the political domination and control of the Iranian court through most of the nineteenth century, a glory that Russia reluctantly and competitively shared with the British Empire, resulting eventually in the de facto division of Iran between the two colonial powers in the early part of the twentieth century. Post-1917 Russia, which temporarily toyed with the idea of exporting revolutionary Marxism to ‘the people of the East’ (White, 1974, pp. 492–514), soon opted for dealing with both countries in the context of limited bilateral relations and, more so, as pawns in a Western/US-dominated alliance system for most of the twentieth century. Ataturk’s Turkey and Pahlavi Iran, no matter how they imagined themselves, were seen by Moscow as ‘dependent’ players with little independence, self-generating vision, policies and real choices of strategic significance. Turkey was particularly seen as docile on its own, though hostile as part of a Western military alliance, NATO. Iran showed more reflexivity under the Shah, especially in the late 1960s

Mohiaddin Mesbahi 169

with attempts at diversification. Though it remained a staunch America ally regionally, and one hosting thousands of US military personnel, some economic and diplomatic ties were promoted with Moscow (a small amount of military purchases and a highly publicized metallurgy complex in Isfahan were symbolic of this reflexivity). Iran’s statist capitalism could even fit into some of the more imaginative and accommodating Soviet Marxist paradigms in the 1970s, such as ‘developing nationalist capitalism’, with which Moscow could have a correct and principled relationship. Yet, an image of an independent, assertive Iran with its own regional design that could challenge Russia never really emerged. Russia thus viewed both Iran and Turkey, the core of its entire southern flank, with a certain sense of continuity, distance and perhaps comfort, in spite of both countries’ close ties to the US. This sense of continuity and stability is an important backdrop to the shocks and aftershocks of the Iranian revolution in 1979 (Milani, 1994; Abrahamian, 2008) and the emergence since then of an historically incommensurate and contrarian Iran. It also, with some modification, applies to Moscow’s inadequate recent imagination of Turkey, after the end of the Cold War and more specifically after the coming to power of the Justice and Development Party (AK Party) in Turkey and the radical transformation of Turkey’s foreign policy in pursuit of its ‘strategic depth’ since 2002.

Turkey and Russia The early period of the twentieth century and the emergence of the Turkish Republic ushered in an era of ‘sincere friendship’ with Moscow (Hale, 2000). The Turks, disillusioned by the West and its role in dismantling Turkey’s greatness in the aftermath of the Ottoman collapse, and heartened by Russia’s early post revolutionary territorial and political gestures, which led to the 1925 ‘treaty of friendship’, developed a particular vision of and policy towards Russia and the region which survived the complex politics of the decades leading to the Second World War, the war years, and the repeated pressure from Moscow under Stalin to renegotiate the ‘status’ of the Turkish straits (Cos and Bilgin, 2010). It is in fact remarkable that, in spite of the Soviet diplomatic encroachment on this critical issue, Turkey’s overall strategic vision of Russia remained unchanged. Quietism, accepting Russia’s ultimate domination of the Caucasus and the Turkic world, seems to fit the ‘sincere friendship’ paradigm adopted as the frame for Turkish-Soviet relations. The Cold War ended that vision. Russia’s pre1917 image as an expansionist imperial power and Moscow’s ‘penchant for imperialism’ were revived.1 Turkey joined the western political and military alliance. This was a watershed, and yet a transformation which did not dramatically change the strategic environment, as the substance of Turkish foreign policy towards Russia and the Caucasus and Central Asia, that is, Turkey’s tendency of self imposed isolation and noninvolvement

170 Eurasia between Russia, Turkey and Iran

as a vehicle of obtaining security, successfully adjusted to the Cold War and survived it. The end of the Cold War and the collapse of the Soviet Union and the return of Russia presented an era of uncertainty, an uncomfortable discontinuity, and inevitable opportunity. The opportunity generated by the vacuum resulting from the collapse of Soviet power in Central Asia and the Caucasus and the inevitable re-imagination of the ‘Turkic world’ generated the natural expectation for a new Turkish foreign policy vision and strategy in the 1990s. Turkey’s ‘rediscovery’ of the Turkic world in Eurasia in the 1990s and beyond was translated into energetic diplomatic overtures, early diplomatic recognitions, the opening of trade relations, a soft advocacy of cultural de-Russification through cultural initiatives and especially linguistic unity by pushing the Latinization of the Turkic language in Central Asia and the Caucasus; thus, the promises and ideals of a ‘unified Turkic world’. Yet, in spite of this potentially unprecedented opening, a product of Russia’s political and material weakness and vulnerability in the former periphery, the undertone of the Turkish vision and policy towards Russia did not change; Turkey’s exploitation of the new vacuum was neither aggressive nor driven by an anti-Russian normative discussion, nor did its material investment and political commitment match the opportunity, let alone the expectation. The early imagination of Russia as a friendly regional neighbour was gradually resuscitated; a reformulation that squarely fit the early honeymoon of a pro-western Russian domestic and foreign policy discourse under Yeltsin. In fact, Turkey’s strategic normative narrative, its geocultural framework of the 1990s, was part and parcel of the triumphalistic narrative of the ‘End of History’ and the neoliberalism of the post Cold War era emanating from Washington; a narrative characterized not only by the satisfaction of winning the Cold War and as the ontological proof of how the world should and would function, but also as a blueprint for how to approach a new Russia and the new independent states. Turkey’s foreign policy towards Russia and its interest in the region followed two axes: first, to consider Russia under Yeltsin and his Foreign Minister Kozyrev as a new entity with a western oriented trajectory with which economic and trade relations could be expanded, and whose strategic vulnerability in Eurasia would not be exploited by Ankara, and; second, to accept that Russia’s strategic future and its framework would be decided by the US and that Turkey, as a member of NATO a core regional ally and team player, would only play a designated role. Ideationally Turkey shared the new Russia’s threat assessment in Eurasia, that the main post-communist geocultural threat is Islamic extremism, with repeated allusion to Iran as a key culprit, along with radical Islamic movements, and considered its role in the region, like that of Russia, to be a container of the threat and a protector of the boundaries of modern civilization (Mesbahi, 1993, 1995; Hunter, 2004).

Mohiaddin Mesbahi 171

The ideational convergence among the US, Russia, and Turkey was a significant development. It set the tone for the direct and open securitization of Islam, Iran, and the Islamic movement in Eurasia and soon helped to provide a permissive normative environment to the newly independent states and their authoritarian rulers to bandwagon geoculturally with these regional and global mentors and construct the building bloc of a region-wide security culture based on the idea of the Islamic threat. Turkey became the potential ‘model’ of development for Central Asian states and an alternative to the Iranian model (Mesbahi, 1995); culturally Muslim, politically secular, ethnically Turkic, with a modern economy and Latinized alphabet, loved by the West, and respected and approved of by Russia. Russia had lost its normative capacity to produce its own vision – which historically consisted of a far more complex view of Islam. In the heyday of westernization, the Russian ideational world was subordinated to that produced in the US; it was Huntington’s ‘clash of civilizations’ (Huntington, 1993, 1998) and Bernard Lewis’ ‘Roots of Muslim rage’ (Lewis, 1990) and not the now neglected Orientalists of the Moscow and St Petersburg academies, nor the old hands in the Russian Foreign Ministry such as Yevgeni Primakov, who provided the inspiration and mentorship. Iran became the target of regional containment, and Turkey, along with the US, became its overt and implicit champion. The competition between Iran and Turkey became a dominant analytical paradigm to understand the region, as if the region had only these two choices, as if Russia would not be a player in the long run, or as if the region did not have native models from which to choose. In Central Asia, the Turkish model with its hard secular edge and ethnic affinity promised a lot but, given Turkey’s economic limitations and difficulty with the idea of being extraterritorially ambitious and projective, it did not meet the expectations. Turkey was tested by its economic limitations and diplomatic culture. In the Caucasus, and the message went far beyond, Azerbaijan’s expectation for strategic protection by Turkey was shattered with the loss of Nagorno Karabakh in the war with Armenia. The Russian support for Armenia and later the wars against Chechnya did not cause a rupture with Turkey; instead, Turkish trade with Russia continued and expanded. The Turkish alternative to Iran’s role in the Transcaucasus, especially in the triangulation with Azerbaijan and Armenia, did not materialize.

Turkey: The transformation The significant and transformative turn in Turkey’s foreign policy doctrine and practice occurred after the coming to power of the AK Party and the ascendancy of Islamically oriented socio-political forces in 2002 and the new global vision that the new elite, including Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdogan and especially Ahmet Davutoglu, as the architect of the new foreign policy, brought to Turkey’s international relations. The Islamic parties had an earlier experience with ruling Turkey in the 1990s with Necmettin Erbekan.

172 Eurasia between Russia, Turkey and Iran

However, and in spite of a symbolic turn in Turkish foreign policy and some new flexibility in getting closer to the Muslim world under Erbekan (and even earlier under Turgut Ozal), including to Iran and Central Asia, the structure and dynamics of power in Turkey remained constant, and the Kemalist establishment, ‘the deep state’, maintained its domination over the basic contours of Turkey’s international choices, including those in the region. Turkey remained firmly within the Western orbit, basically satisfied with its regional role in supplementing the US and NATO, geopolitically and geoculturally within the global system. Relations with Russia and Central Asia and the Caucasus remained within that framework of Western complementarity.2 It is remarkable that, in spite of the strategic opening – that is, the significant change in material conditionality of both the international system (collapse of the Soviet Union) and even more so the complex regional system (the independence of new states in Central Asia and the Caucasus-the reopening of the ‘Turkic world’ and the Eurasian ‘heartland’) – the main thrust of Turkish foreign policy never achieved a sense of new mission, activism and purpose beyond the historically defined frame set by the Cold War, the alliance requirement and close relations with the US. It is usually argued, especially by the neorealist scholars (Waltz, 1979; Mearsheimer, 2003), that the most important factor that prompts shifts and transformations in the foreign policy of any state is a change in the systemic distribution of power, the birth of a new geopolitical environment and the opportunities that systemic shifts offer and provide, ready to be taken and adopted. Turkish foreign policy, however, indicated that the systemic transformation and the appetizing opportunity that was offered by the Soviet collapse, Russian weakness and the vulnerable and seemingly ethno-socially permissive and inviting region, did not prompt the Turkish elite to move too far beyond the usual and comforting zone of Turkish international relations thought and practice. The post 2002 transformations in Turkish foreign policy had two separate but reinforcing reasons. First, the unipolar moment and 9/11 delivered their by-products in the double invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq by the US, and the ushering in of the ‘war on terror’ as the defining core to both the physical and normative characteristics of the international system. The invasion of Iraq in particular affected Turkey significantly, as it brought war, and a very complex one at that, to the Turkish border, and with it the Pandora’s box of the explosive question of a possible Kurdish state, with the nightmarish scenarios that until then were at best a cause for reinforcing Turkish ethnic nationalism and at worst a manageable ethnic problem. The contingency of an existential threat to the integrity of the Turkish state was now plausible. Second was the transformation of Turkish national identity, gradual but significant, not complete but big enough to not only be noticed but to translate itself into political power, and to interject its geocultural meaning into the new geopolitical environment. Turkey’s refusal to allow the US military to open a northern front against Iraq was the birthplace of this transformation.

Mohiaddin Mesbahi 173

Turkey’s geopolitical and security interest coincided comfortably with a new geocultural orientation that fitted well within the emerging anti-American critical Islamic discourse in the region; geoculture and geopolitics became commensurate. The ideational transformation of Turkey became the significant factor in the formulation of a new geopolitical environment. This transformation to no small degree, in its coherent and doctrinal frame, is the brainchild of Ahmet Davutoglu, the Turkish Foreign Minister (Aras, 2009). There are five main discernable characteristics to the new Turkish foreign policy and international and regional vision (Davutoglu, 2008, pp. 77–96; Davutoglu, 2009).3 First, Turkey is a self-referential international ‘visionary’ actor, an actor on the world stage purposefully and deliberately (not reactively) embracing the world, its challenges, and opportunities and a conscious agent with a particular set of ideas and positions worthy of playing on the world stage. This is a major ideational and temperamental/ psycho-political change about what foreign policy actually is, what its functions and purposes are, and what Turkey actually means to the world polity; a change that only a new elite, a new group of constructivist agents (Onuf, 1989; Wendt, 1999) with a different self-perception could introduce and construct. This was an historical end to the comfort zone of noninvolvement, docility as safe haven, and tagging along within the framework set by the requirement of relations with the West and especially US mentorship. Second, Turkey identifies and designates a ‘strategic depth’ as its special zone of interest, security and responsibility (Murinson, 2006). Eurasia, with its Turkic and Islamic ethnicity and culture, as understood in Turkey, is the main space within this strategic depth. This strategic depth, in addition, is an implicit resuscitation of the Ottoman presence and imagination in the Middle East (Aras and Karakyapolat, 2007; Jung, 2005), the Balkans, and its memory as a great imperial power in the international system. Third, Turkey is the pivotal state in the emerging Islamic world, the bridge between Islam and the West, a key mediator and perhaps one day the main custodian and interlocutor in an ongoing encounter between the two civilizations. Fourth, Turkey’s regional policy is predicated on a ‘zero-problem with neighbours’ principle which places immediate attention on contiguous states and regions, and the achievement of strategic stability and even friendship with immediate neighbours; a principle that has particular relevance in relations with two key regional neighbours, namely Iran and Russia. Fifth, Turkey is a unique mediator, a regional and global asset in conflict resolution and diplomacy and core to multilateral efforts; a role that demands both a ‘systemic’ wide engagement and a ‘rhythmic diplomacy’ (Davutoglu, 2009). These principles are all embedded in Turkey’s new identity that is at once ‘secular’, ‘Islamic’ and ‘democratic’; this new identity, as Davutoglu argues, constitutes the bedrock of Turkey’s new global role, and the core to its soft power (Davutoglu, 2009; Ogˇuzlu, 2007). The new thinking will also solidify the ongoing role of Turkey as the primary regional linchpin and hub of

174 Eurasia between Russia, Turkey and Iran

economic and energy related projects and most significantly the access to Eurasia, including Iranian energy resources.

Turkey and the region Turkey’s new reformulation of its identity and new foreign policy outlook have given a new and complex dimension to traditional views of Turkey’s role in the region. Economic and trade relations between Turkey and the region, thanks to Turkey’s emerging economic power, have expanded significantly, both in terms of direct investment and the involvement of Turkey’s private sector, completely overshadowing the level of economic interaction which existed in the previous era.4 Turkey’s ideational narrative about her global and regional role and, thus, political orientation has gone through discernable changes; Turkey is no longer a ‘hardcore’ secular state defined in opposition to Islamism and Iran, but a democratic state which while secular is now emphasizing its Islamic heritage, has concerns about the faith of the Islamic world and will take diplomatic positions and approaches that from the perspective of the capitals of the region are quite novel. Adopting a diplomatic language critical of the West, the US and Israel, improving relations with Iran and Moscow, and defending Muslim rights and heritage, constitute a collective adjustment that has presented a new Turkey to the region. While Turkish Islam, for example, used to be hailed as the modern alternative to Iranian Islam, the new Turkey – while still insisting on ‘secularism’ – might prove to be less geoculturally appealing if not threatening for the region’s authoritarian rulers and political establishment which have made a profitable polity out of the Islamic threat since the collapse of the Soviet Union. On the other hand, a new Turkey, economically more engaging, and diplomatically more assertive and powerful on the regional stage might in the long run prove a major asset for these states in their relations with Russia and the emerging China. Turkey’s ‘rhythmic diplomacy’ and mediation have been at work across the Middle East/Eurasia on a wide spectrum of issues and disputes, including among others, the Palestinian issue, Syria-Israel, Iran-US, and via the development of the ‘Caucasus Stability and Cooperation Platform’ mediation between Georgia and Russia, and Azerbaijan and Armenia (Aras, 2009; Davutoglu, 2009; Newsweek, 2009). While Turkey’s relations with Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, and Turkmenistan have expanded, especially on the economic front, geopolitically, relations with Uzbekistan will be an important barometer of Turkey’s future reach. The Uzbeks, who consider themselves as the core to the geopolitics of the region, a country with regional ambitions and a sense of superiority over the neighbourhood, which hopes to set the tempo for great power access and involvement may not welcome this assertive Turkey in the long run; Uzbekistan’s political culture and approach towards Islam, which has

Mohiaddin Mesbahi 175

advocated a very hard line policy, may not fit well with Turkey’s new identity and foreign policy self perception and mission. Among the states in the region, relations with Azerbaijan and Armenia have been and will be most consequential. The Azeris, who had not only geoculturally, but geopolitically, invested in developing deep strategic relations with Turkey, are now facing a different Turkey, which, while very friendly and close, has regional and global ambitions that cannot be defined by and held hostage to the special friendship with Baku. The warming of relations between Turkey and Armenia, and the signing of the framework agreement in October 2009, that has potentially paved the road for normalization of bilateral ties and the end of the blockade and opening of the borders, angered Azerbaijan and signalled that Turkey is now thinking big, megaregionally, and strategically. A closer Turkey-Armenia relationship – a development highly encouraged by the US – will have important geopolitical ramifications, including the weakening of the Russian hold on Armenia, and the limiting of the value of Iranian friendship for Yerevan; thus enhancing the manoeuvrability of Armenia in the region. Concurrently, the move might present pressure on Azerbaijan to diversify its options further by improving relations with Iran and especially with Russia. Turkey will have to navigate this complex path to sustain its special relations with Azerbaijan, relations which act as an important regional showcase of Turkey’s new identity, while moving beyond the limitations that this key relationship inevitability imposes. Turkey’s regional policy is guided by its key foreign policy principle in developing a ‘zero-problem’ policy with Russia and Iran. Turkey’s policy towards Russia has gone beyond the limitations imposed by the historical mentorship of the US. Repeated summit diplomacy between Putin and Erdogan, a significant increase in economic relations (a $40 billion volume of trade), attempts to avoid being perceived as part of schemes to ‘bypass’ Russia, including a pipeline strategy advocated by the US and a very tame and limited role in the Chechen crisis, and the Georgia war all point to a major strategic doctrinal line that indicates an ambiguous or non-existent Turkish role in a new Western containment policy of a resurgent Russia. Turkey’s long-term strategy towards Russia is not to serve the West as a junior partner, but to ride surreptitiously on Western pressure on Moscow, without bandwagoning openly, and to use this opening space to resuscitate its long-term access to its natural ‘strategic depth’. This ambiguous role is not only the function of her proximity and long historical relations with Russia, but also the function of Turkey’s new image of world order and the problem associated with US domination and the western encounter with Islam. Russia’s acclaimed Eurasianism (Laqueur, 2009) includes special relations with the Muslim world (Mesbahi, 1993; Hunter, 2004) and especially with Turkey; the traditional ethos of culture is highlighted as a source of civilizational closeness and mutual respect. The advocacy of close relations with Russia also has a significant domestic constituency in the form of a powerful economic lobby that advocates expansion of ties.

176 Eurasia between Russia, Turkey and Iran

Turkey and Iran Turkey’s relations with Iran in the new era have been transformed. Turkey has dropped the language of regional competition, has desecuritized the image of Iran domestically and regionally, has emphasized Islamic and cultural ties, opposed western demonization of Iran, supported Iran’s right for peaceful nuclear enrichment,5 offered mediation in the US-Iran conflict, and developed extensive trade, economic, and especially energy ties with Iran. While its aggressive pipeline policy, that is NABUCCO, ‘innocently’ utilizes western efforts to ‘bypass’ Russia and Iran to her own advantage, Turkey engages Iran and Russia directly and multilaterally on energy issues and is setting a dynamic that could make it the primary economic and energy hub of the region. Turkey’s new approach towards Russia and especially Iran and its impact and ramifications for the region, is driven not by the emerging opportunities of the post Soviet world, but by a deliberate new ideational shift and doctrinal assumption that is complex and ambitious; the new, ‘friendly’ and activist Turkey delivers a formidable challenge to both Russia and Iran for regional influence and leadership.

Eurasia and Iran’s foreign policy framework Iran’s relations with post Soviet Eurasia (Mesbahi, 2004; Pourpooyan and Mirzaeepour, 2009, Amirahamadian, 2006) are driven by the interaction and symbiosis of several factors: First, Iran’s relations with the region are heavily conditioned by the strategic impact of Iran’s relations with Russia; Iran’s foreign policy in the region, by design or default is Russia-centric; second, the impact of Iranian foreign policy identity as a revolutionary Islamic state, the ‘Islamic factor’, and how the geocultural framing of Iran is affected by the consideration of Iranian revolutionary objectives and intentions; third, the impact of the US-Iran hostility in shaping Iran’s global and regional policy and position, and; finally, the self perception of Iranian centrality in shaping the post Soviet regional dynamics either deliberately through policy or by the impact of the sheer presence of the Iranian factor. The Iranian revolution and the post-revolutionary foreign policy dynamics have matured into a complex and somewhat unique condition that has made Iran one of the most consequential actors in international relations. This condition has its origins not only in the Iranian penchant for projective ideational policy, a sense of mission and purpose, but also in the twin factors of geographical realities of being a linchpin-pivotal state, and the disproportionate impact of its relations with the US for the megaregional complex of the Middle East/Persian Gulf/Eurasia. Iranian foreign policy has been, for all practical purposes, globalized via its entanglement with the US. This ‘globalised’ actor, both by choice and default, is strategically lonely (Mesbahi, 2001), not isolated, as Iran is engaged either deliberately or by default in all major

Mohiaddin Mesbahi 177

trends in the region, but lonely in a sense that it has a geopolitical framing that requires self-sufficiency which results in a self-referential security culture and vision. Relations with great powers including the US, Russia and China are a complex factor in relating to this essential loneliness.

Iran and Russia Iran’s relations with her superpower neighbour went through a transformation after the 1979 revolution which ushered in an anti-American Islamic Republic on the southern border of the Soviet Union on the eve of a renewed Cold War only months before the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan. The revolution naturally promised a strategic opening for Moscow; the bedrock of US domination in the region had collapsed and was replaced by a new antiimperialist state. The early optimism of the Soviets did not last long, as the new regime’s ‘neither East nor West’ doctrine cut short Moscow’s optimism and hopes for expansion of influence in Iran. Russia’s hopes for expansion had been dashed in the early part of the twentieth century, with the failure of the export of the communist revolution to Iran and the demise of the Jangali movement and the ‘Gilan Republic’ in 1918 (Zabih, 1966; Chaqueri [Shakeri], 1995; Kapur, 1967). Bolshevik Russia thus opted for consolidation of traditional Russian imperial territorial gains in the region – especially in the Caucasus, including those made against Iran during the Qajar era in the nineteenth century (Kazemzadeh, 1968; Ramazani, 1966). Iran settled within the western (British) sphere of influence; a new era of ‘friendship’ enshrined in the treaty of 1921 set the tone for the years between the world wars, and in many ways for the rest of the century. The Cold War, which started in Iran (Kuniholm, 1994) with the Azerbaijan crisis (Fawcett, 1992; Atabaki, 2004; Voldarsky, 1994; Rezun, 1990) led Iran to look to the US as a distant disinterested power (Bill, 1989; Ramazani, 1975) and to join informally the western alliance after the Second World War. This alliance led to the ascendancy of the US in Iran after the downfall of the Mosaddegh government in 1953, eventually maturing into a full-fledged security relationship with Washington under the Shah in the 1960s and 1970s. The revolution put an end to this anti-Soviet strategic alliance in 1979. Iran, itself at war with Iraq, a treaty ally of the Soviet Union, opposed the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan and denounced Soviet imperialism at a time when it also confronted the new arch enemy of the revolution, namely the US, following the hostage crisis (Gasirowski and Keddie, 1990). Iran’s attempt at equidistance with the Soviet Union was never perfect; the major hostility was with the US and, thus, more amicable relations developed with Moscow in the late 1980s with the important visit to Moscow by Hashemi Rafsanjani and Ayatollah Khomeini’s letter to Mikhail Gorbachev. The need for Soviet support, even in an implicit manner, was considered important. It was this geopolitical consideration, among other factors, that from the

178 Eurasia between Russia, Turkey and Iran

beginning tamed Iranian geocultural ambitions towards any attempt at exporting Islamic revolutionary ideas to Central Asia and the Caucasus. This geopolitical consideration was the key to Iranian attitudes towards Soviet weakness and its eventual collapse; Iran embraced the Soviet collapse with a sense of trepidation. Thus, from 1979 on, and even more since 1991 and the collapse of the Soviet Union, Iran-US hostility, both geoculturally and geopolitically, has become the deep structural dynamic that has shaped Iran’s relations with Russia and with the post Soviet space (Saghafi Ameri, 2008; Vaezi, 2007b; Koolaee, 2006); this has been central to the Iranian global and regional position since 1979, and Russia and Eurasia are no exceptions. The continuous impact of this deep structural factor had several significant geopolitical, geoeconomic and geocultural ramifications for Iran, Russia, and the entire region. It provided Russia with a strategic cushion and tool of major global and regional significance to use its developing and deepening relations with Iran especially since the late 1990s to achieve two simultaneous and contradictory objectives: To protect its interest in the region by arresting Iran’s natural inclination to fill the vacuum left by the collapse of the Soviet Union and the opening of the vulnerable region, thus ‘managing’ Iran’s policy and checking its ambitions in the region, while becoming Iran’s primary provider of arms and diplomatic cover, and the main arbiter of the Iranian nuclear issue (Saghafi Ameri, 2005; Ghahramanpour, 2009; Golzade, 2009; Freedman, 2006) on the international scene. Iran-US hostility became a strategic asset of historical significance in the most vulnerable moment in recent Russian history. This was not, of course, the product of a Russian initiative, but a default result of the revolution and Iran’s deliberate policy in sustaining the hostility with the US, as well as the US’s overall containment policy of Iran which in the 1990s became a major frame of US policy against Iran, not only in the Middle East but also in the Caucasus and Central Asia. In fact, the US openly advocated distance from Iran and promoted the exclusion of Iran as a prerequisite of good relations with the US; a regional reward and punishment structure was implicitly and explicitly established. A cornerstone of this policy has been the exclusion of Iran from major energy projects including pipeline projects; the most significant US success in this regard being the exclusion of Iran from the Azerbaijan ‘deal of the century’ in the early 1990s, which set the framework for excluding Iran at all cost since; a policy with far reaching consequences, significantly beneficial to Russia and Turkey. Iran, by the fact of geography and ambition, could have had a much more active regional presence6 (Pourpooyan and Mirzaeepour 2009; Karimi 2008; Amirahmadian, 2006) perhaps mostly at the expense of Russia, but instead is faced with the contradictory predicament of trying to have close relations with Russia, while competing with it in the region. Iran has concrete conflicts of interest with Russia. Not only was the Iranian historical lamentation over territorial losses to Russia in the Transcaucasus rekindled after the collapse of the

Mohiaddin Mesbahi 179

Soviet Union, but it was reinforced by the prospect of a ‘new Turkmanchai’7 by the possible loss of what they have considered as their minimum right in the territorial and resource division of the Caspian Sea; an issue of great symbolic and real interest to Iran and a major subject of bitter internal debate.8 From early Iranian demands for a 50 per cent share to the current 11.3 per cent share Russia and other littoral states, for example, Turkmenistan, Kazakhstan, and Azerbaijan are considering for Iran, Moscow’s careful management of Iran’s shrinking rights and her exclusion from regional access has been visible. In their effort to limit Iran’s access, Russia and the other littoral states of the Caspian basin by default have the overall support of the US (Vaezi, 2007b).

Iran and Russia: The ‘Eastern Orientation’ An overall assessment of Iranian regional policy indicates an underutilization of Iran’s natural and political opportunities and power; Iranian analysts have consistently pointed to the inability of Iran to exploit its natural advantages and the repeated opportunities offered to Iran since the collapse of the Soviet Union. This critical assessment, though present before the conservative forces led by President Ahmadinejad came to power in 2005, has been particularly evident since then. The decision by Tehran to pursue nuclear enrichment signalled the beginning of a major shift in the Iranian style, if not the substance, of its global and regional policy and, in fact, of its vision. This vision, in addition to taking a more activist and vocal regional stand against the US and its allies, geopolitically and geoculturally signalled a substantive though not public shift in relations with Russia and China, namely an ‘Eastern orientation’ (negahe be sharq) (Velayati, 2007). The ‘Eastern orientation’ was not a completely new and transformative vision initiated with Ahmadinejad’s presidency, since it had its roots in the revolution itself and the well entrenched hostility towards and fear of the US as both a geopolitical and geocultural threat. Iran was not generally unhappy to see the collapse of the Soviet Union and communism, yet from the beginning it feared its geopolitical and geocultural ramifications. Perhaps nothing can reflect this trepidation better than the historic letter of Imam Khomeini, the founder and the leader of the Islamic Republic, to Mikhail Gorbachev in 1989. In this letter, Imam Khomeini while encouraging Gorbachev to let go of communism as a defunct ideology and system, warned the Soviet leader not to be deceived by Western friendship and ideology, calling it a trap that will ruin the Soviet Union (Imam Khomeini’s Letter, 1993). The collapse of the Soviet Union and the downfall of Gorbachev gave birth to the ‘Gorbachev syndrome’ in the Iranian leading circles; an experience not to be repeated. The letter had been meant ‘to open a new ideational horizon’ for the Soviet leadership, reflecting a bold and romantic Iranian expectation of ideational mentoring of their larger neighbour. This implicit expectation never left Iranian internal debate or the elite imagination. How could a material superpower lose its way and

180 Eurasia between Russia, Turkey and Iran

why can it not pull its act together, while a much materially weaker Iran could, through sheer ideational determination, will and resistance, affect the regional balance of power against the sole US superpower? Russia’s defeatism under Yeltsin was a major source of frustration and unmet expectations for closer relations with Moscow. While Russia’s foreign policy adjustment started under Primakov in the late 1990s (Mesbahi, 1997), it was Putin and his team that attracted Iranian attention. Iran’s foreign policy radicalization coincided with the assertive new leadership in Moscow. Russia’s new leadership was not necessarily ideological – reassertion of Russian national interest and accommodation went hand in hand – yet some of the key concepts and themes in Russian foreign policy repeatedly used by Putin attracted Iranian attention and encouraged the reemergence of potential new ideational bridges between the two countries. Two concepts and themes were particularly suggestive and important: First, the rejection of US attempts at unipolarity and domination, thus the support for the creation of a multipolar world, and, second, the condemnation and accusation against the US and the West for the cynical use of human rights for political purposes and the manufacturing of coloured revolutions and the expansion of their geopolitical interests through social engineering. These two themes were instrumental in encouraging Iranian hope for a more substantive realignment with Russia regionally and globally, a hope reflected in Putin’s trip to Tehran and his important and seemingly positive meeting with Iran’s Supreme Leader Ayatollah Khamene’i in which the leader referred to Russia’s ‘fine image’ in Iran, as an image borne out of Russia’s ‘prudent resistance’ and that ‘a sovereign (moghtader/powerful) Iran is in the interest of Russia and a powerful Russia is in the interest of Iran’ (The Official Site of the Office of the Supreme Leader Ayatollah Khamein’i, 2007). The real and projective requirements of this bilateral affinity, which were at core geopolitical, now acquired an added geocultural dimension, overshadowing Iran’s bilateral ambitions vis-a-vis the region. Russia’s diplomatic support for Iran against the US (Koolaee, 2009), expressed mostly in the form of softening the UN sanctions on the nuclear issue, opposing military actions against Iran, and the qualitative and significant enhancement of arms sales to Iran including the controversial S-300 missiles, and the transfer of nuclear technology through the construction of the Bushehr nuclear power plant, were to give substance to this ideational affinity. Yet, by the end of 2009 the overall foundational inadequacy of this strategic affinity was visible in the full spectrum of relations between the two significant regional actors. The nationally symbolic and costly Bushehr project, which has seen nearly dozens of firm opening dates come and go,9 remains hostage to the nuclear issue. The delivery of badly needed S-300 missiles that will enhance Iran’s defence against possible US or Israeli military attacks remains uncertain and subject to public Iranian rebuke even by the Iranian military leaders who accuse Russia of ignoring Iran’s significance in Russia’s own security.10 The neglect of the Iranian position in

Mohiaddin Mesbahi 181

the Caspian legal regime (Damirchi Loo, 2008) remains at an all time high, and the possibility of continuous UN sanctions remains as real as ever. Most of all, and unexpectedly, the controversial election in Iran and the widely shared rumours that Russia played a mentoring role, coupled with the willful readings of the coloured revolutions in Ukraine, Georgia, and Central Asia and their role in framing the Iranian conservatives’ mindset in dealing with the election and the opposition as the Iranian version of a coloured revolution, all led to a massive erosion of the already ambiguous Russian reputation. Reminiscent of the early twentieth century, the slogan of ‘marg bar Roosyeh’ (down with Russia) marked the historic watershed in the negative perception of Russia and its current leadership in Iran. While Iran’s ‘Eastern orientation’ in a broader sense includes China and its expanding regional presence through the Shanghai Cooperation Organization (SCO) in which Iran is an observer member, China, in spite of its significant economic ties, has yet to become an alternative. Iran’s need for Russia’s counterbalancing against the US, and Russia’s need for keeping Iran at play in its relations with the US is still operative and key to the dynamics affecting Eurasia. The genuine fear of both countries against US unilateralism and hegemony has its place, yet the corrosive impact of this geopolitical setup and entrapment as strategic as it seems, cannot overcome the deep conflict of interests between Iran and Russia; conflicting interests that are driven by the historical mindset of Russia towards Iran and Iran’s unmet expectations of geocultural affinity and the potential to undermine Russian historical claims of domination in the Caucasus and Central Asia.

Iran and the region Iran’s Islamic revolutionary and geopolitical aspirations (Koolaee, 2006; Masoudniya and Ma’soomi, 2009) in the region were never developed in any significant and coherent manner. The consideration of the Russian factor was important, especially in shaping a timid and generally quietist Iranian policy and even narrative towards the bloody conflict in the north Caucasus and especially in Chechnya. Iran’s significant involvement was in Tajikistan (Mesbahi, 1997), where an ethnically Iranian republic was engulfed in a major civil war and where a Sunni Islamic movement was supported by Shi’ia Iran. Russia and Iran managed to compete along a wide spectrum in this bloody conflict; Iran’s mediation was eventually key to bringing about the conflict’s termination, and the eventual settlement of the conflict more along the lines of overall Russian interest. Iran’s policy of mediation (Vaezi, 2007c; Hertzig, 2004) in the resolution of regional conflicts, in Tajikistan in the late 1990s and earlier in the Nagorno Karabakh conflict, was not only a function of Iran’s concern over national security repercussions of regional instability (Vaezi, 2003; Falaahatpishe, 2002; Aidin, 2001; Amirahmadi, 1996) but even more so its sense of centrality and its attempt at breaking out of the isolation that

182 Eurasia between Russia, Turkey and Iran

both Russia, but more so the US, tried to impose on it. An early and partially successful mediating role by Iran in the Nagorno Karabakh conflict was later undermined by the US and Russia, and resulted in the eventual elimination of Iran from the future diplomatic framework, namely the Minsk process. Thus, a major regional conflict with great potential to cause instability in Iran was ironically to be settled without Iranian involvement. Iran’s relations with Azerbaijan and Armenia, as the relations of these two states with Turkey, are among the most complex relations in the region. Relations with Azerbaijan are particularly complicated, as they are embedded in ethnic irredentist claims and memories – mostly by Azerbaijan’s view of Iranian Azerbaijan as lost land – and religious and ideological sensitivity, as Azerbaijan is predominantly Shiite, and yet ruled by a decidedly secular anti-Islamic political elite (Jabbari, 2009) that has always targeted Iran as a potential geocultural and political threat. Azerbaijan is among the closest regional states to the US and Israel, and a potential ‘candidate’ for NATO membership and ‘partnership’ (Ahadi, 2007; Sadri, 2003) and as such is potentially a major strategic concern for Iran. Azerbaijan’s occasional irredentist statements about Iranian Azerbaijan, its serious displeasure over Iran’s close relations with Armenia, the dispute over Caspian energy resources and Baku’s strong pro-US position are explosive ingredients that could individually or in combination cause a major crisis in bilateral relations; an Azeri-Iranian crisis would have serious region-wide repercussions. Iran’s close ties to Armenia, beyond its own deep historical domestic and cultural reasons (Qeysari, 2009; Hersiji and Toisirkani, 2009; Setoodehnejad, 2004) are an important corrective geopolitical factor in containing Azerbaijan’s anti-Iranian tendencies. Close relations with Armenia also fit into Iranian-Russian geopolitical calculations, including potential for establishing a North-South Corridor while providing Armenia with additional regional space and options. Moreover, Azerbaijan’s geographical isolation from Turkey and its contiguity with Iran have given Iran major leverage to manage complex but stable relations with this country. At the heart of Central Asia, Uzbekistan presented itself from the early 1990s as the champion against Islamic movements and the Islamic threat. Tashkent argued for containing Iranian inspired radicalism, fought on the opposite side of the Tajik civil war against Iran and remains the key longterm menace against the only ethno-culturally Iranian republic, Tajikistan, a state which looks partially to Iran for support and protection11 (Ahadi, 2006; Mousavi, 2007, 2008). Iran’s subdued revolutionary posture and unmet expectations of closer ties with Tajikistan, in addition to economic ties (Daly, 2008), however, might have eventually reduced the anti-Iranian thrust of Uzbekistan’s normative approach. Tashkent’s attitudes towards Iran have certainly always also been a function of Uzbekistan’s relations with the US, western powers and Russia. Nevertheless, what fundamentally drives Uzbekistan are the regional hegemonic claims that see both Turkey

Mohiaddin Mesbahi 183

and Iran as potential intruders, regardless of the distinct differences between these two regional powers. Iran’s relations with Turkmenistan (Mousavi, 2008; Abulverdi, 2006), thanks to the Turkmen policy of ‘positive neutrality’ and extensive energy relations and pipeline and transit connections, have a fundamentally stable pattern. The Turkmen-Iran pipeline connection, the second of which was opened in 2010, is a sensitive issue for Moscow, as it provides an alternative to the Russian pipeline system, reducing Moscow’s leverage and effort to sustain a general monopoly (Koolaee, 2008; Mottaghi, 2008). The fluctuation of energy access and pricing emanating from Russia’s policy nevertheless has and will continue to intrude itself as an occasional but symbolic source of tension between the two states. Iran’s proximity and good relations with Armenia and Turkmenistan are potentially important for realizing the North-South Corridor, in collaboration with India (Balooch, 2009), as an alternative to the East-West Silk Road that is being favored by the US. Iran’s attempt at regional activism, engagement and even leadership has also been reflected in its lead in establishing the Economic Cooperation Organization (ECO), which has yet to deliver and meet its potential institutional benefit and expectation in a regional complex so much in need of meaningful multilateral arrangements and frameworks. (Koolaee and Mo’dab, 2010; Ghavam-Maleki and Mostaghimi, 2008).

Iran and Turkey Iran never really defined its approach towards the region in competition with Turkey (Rezazadeh 2008; Efegil and Stone, 2003), although the language and narrative of this competition was a dominant framework of regional analysis, at least in the early years of the post Soviet era. Both Russia and the US, as well as regional states, favored Turkey. The radical transformation of Turkey’s foreign policy was a surprise to Tehran, especially in its aggressive opening to Iran. The region naturally anticipated the rivalry as a permanent feature in Turkish-Iranian relations; the return to the Ottoman-Safavid rivalry was expected. Iran thus fully embraced the change in Ankara’s foreign policy. The highly publicized and consequential summitry between the two countries in the last few years was, in fact, the showcase of this shift. While President Ahmadinejad might stir controversy elsewhere, he was warmly received by the new ruling elite as well as the Turkish public; the latter a clear indication of the significant ideational shift sweeping the region and Turkey. Erdogan’s trip to Tehran in October of 2009 was perhaps in terms of substance even more significant; Iran’s remarkably generous energy offer to Turkey and the qualitative expansion of trade took even Iran’s domestic observers by surprise. Referring to the Turkish-Iranian border of 1639 as the oldest official stable borders of the world that ‘don’t divide but adjoin and connect’ (pavand mizanad), the Prime Minister told the Iranians that Turkey and Iran ‘hear each other’ and they respond to each

184 Eurasia between Russia, Turkey and Iran

other’s need; ‘why then should they look elsewhere?’ The potentials facing the two states in terms of expansion of relations are endless and ‘when they start no one can stop them’.12 Ayatollah Khamene’i, Iran’s Supreme Leader, called the Turkish ‘Islamic orientation’ (negahe Islami) the reason for the best relations between the two states in thirty years. And in a paradigmatic assertion of its geocultural significance, Ayatollah Khamene’i pointed to this Islamic orientation and support for Iran as a dual source of Turkey’s strength: Legitimacy at home and influence and acceptance abroad. (BBC, 2009) The emerging closer ties between Iran and Turkey are, thus, one of the most potentially dramatic diplomatic dynamics in the post-Soviet era resulting in wide-ranging regional and possibly global ramifications. The two countries have yet to digest what this transformation means. Tehran in particular has not fully formulated a comprehensive understanding and framework to accommodate fully the Turkish shift. The initiative has been more in the hands of Ankara in setting up the general framework of bilateral ties and its multilateral implications, and Iranian critics have lamented that Turkey has in fact stolen the regional opportunity from Iran, replacing the Iranian Islamic model and occupying the natural linkage state that the Iranians hoped Iran’s geographical location and connectivity and its significant natural resources had potentially guaranteed it as the region’s geopolitical, geocultural and geo-economic hub.

Conclusion In the triangulations of Russia, Turkey and Iran in their ‘great game’ in Eurasia, the two major regional powers in the south have the potential and combined power and reach to use the historical breakdown of the Russian/ Soviet Empire and to reshape the geopolitics of the Caucasus and Central Asia. Yet an international system seemingly dominated by the US and preoccupied with its overwhelming military power on the one hand, and the continuous US encounter with the Muslim world on the other, has created an unusual combination of dynamics which has cushioned and facilitated Russian reassertion attempts in the region. Russia has ridden almost painlessly on this systemic preoccupation with the US, as if reclaiming its Eurasian sphere of influence as its ‘natural’ historical right. Turkey and Iran, while ambitious, purposeful and projective regional powers, are both affected by this overarching dynamic and have adopted a more conciliatory and accommodating policy in the region that avoids confrontation with Russia. In this context US-Iranian hostility is the most consequential factor in facilitating Russia’s comeback and reconsolidation. The continuation of this confrontation will serve Russia’s strategic interest; conversely any shift towards US-Iranian rapprochement will have a shattering impact on Moscow’s regional ambitions and global position. This rapprochement, for the sheer fact of geographical location and strategic connectivity, will also enhance Iran’s position against

Mohiaddin Mesbahi 185

Russia and Turkey and will further open the region to Iran; ‘the reward structure’ of distancing from Iran will be reversed. The Iranian-Turkish relationship is experiencing a transformative moment. In competition, both are losers to Russia and the US, and on the horizon China. Russia, and for that matter other great powers including the US, have historically counted on and benefitted from Turkish-Iranian rivalry. Both the Iranian and Turkish elite and foreign policy thinkers have at least one common understanding of the new great game, that neither the US nor Russia, and for that matter China, has any interest in allowing a new heartland to be dominated or structurally shaped by Islamic states. The prospect of a new strategic axis in Eurasia based on a serious TurkishIranian partnership as the two emerging poles of the Islamic world is tempting in both Tehran and Ankara. The seeds of such grand ideas are only implicit in the lesser publicized writings of Turkish foreign policy architect, Ahmet Davutoglu on the emerging new heartland/rimland combo (Davutoglu, 1998). Turkey and especially Iran have limited material capacity for great power projection, but one does not have to be a global power to be a dominant regional power. Both states are pivotal regional players even with current levels of capability, but greatness and the claim for it are also, if not more so, a function of elite intention, collective national consciousness and identity, and the existence of a permissive and inviting systemic geopolitical, geocultural, and geo-economic international and regional environment. Both states have the intentionality and reflective ambitions; their elite and their public are, realistically or otherwise, reminiscing on distant and not so distant imperial pasts. The opportunity, and in fact, demand for a new Islamic power axis is one of the key ingredients of a systemic intersubjective conversation and mental expectation in the region and elsewhere. Will the two self perceived pivotal states have the historical imagination, ambitions and wherewithal to move in that direction, or will the inertia of the past and the power of the current regional hegemon, Russia, and the ambitious presence of the US force both to manage and navigate along the paths set by their current position and the reality of geopolitical limitations set by the existing distribution of regional and global capability?

Notes 1. For a good constructivist account of Turkish images of Russia under Stalin, see Cos and Bilgin (2010). 2. For the role of Turkish western identity in shaping Turkish foreign policy before the 2002 period, see Bozdaglioglo (2003), especially the conclusion, pp. 159–67. 3. Variations of these principles have been presented in different times and in different formats in the writings and interviews of Ahmed Davutoglu, the most recent systematic version is in his speech on ‘Principles of Turkish Foreign Policy’ in which he divides the principles into three ‘methodological’ and six ‘operative’ (2009).

186 Eurasia between Russia, Turkey and Iran 4. Official Turkish sources put the volume of trade with the region in 2007 at 3 billion dollars; over 1000 Turkish firms are actively engaged and the volume of contracts performed and promised for example in Kazakhstan is 7.5 billion dollars, see http://www.mfa.gov.tr/turkey_s-political-relations-with-kazakhstan. en.mfa; inTurkmenistan 8.5 billion dollars, see http://www.mfa.gov.tr/turkey_ s-commercial-and-economic-relations-with-turkmenistan.en.mfa; and in Azerbaijan 2.5 billion dollars, see http://www.mfa.gov.tr/turkey_s-commercialand-economicalrelations-with-azerbaijan.en.mfa. 5. Turkey emerged as a possible “alternative” to Russia for depositing Iranian enriched uranium after the Geneva 5+1talk in October 2009, and as a mediator between the US and Iran on the nuclear issue. For a discussion of the impact of a nuclear Iran on Turkey and the internal Turkish debate see Kibarroglu and Caglar (2008), Ogutcu (2007) and Aras and Osbay (2006). 6. For an expression of Iran’s official view of its regional policy, see the speech by Manochehr Mottaki, Iran’s Foreign Minister, Mottaki (2008). 7. The 1828 Treaty of Turkmanchai by which Iran lost to Russia a significant portion of the Transcaucasus in the nineteenth century including Yerevan, Nakhichevan, Karabakh, Talysh and Aran, and the right of navigation in the Caspian, is a humiliating reference, symbolic of Iranian losses to Russia. 8. The Iranian domestic debate on the Caspian is usually very critical of Iran’s policy and its lack of initiative and too much reliance on relations with Russia and the erosion of Iran’s influence; see Koolaee and Mo’dab (2010), Firoozian (2007), Shirazi (2003), Mirheidar (2002), Bavand (2002), Maleki (2009), Mojtehedzadeh (2009), and Jamshidi (2009). For views on developing a more cooperative scheme, see Heraniniya and Pahlavani (2008) and Vaezi (2007a). 9. Ali Akbar Salehi, director of Iran’s nuclear energy organization frustratingly commented that ‘I no longer like to give any opening dates for Bushehr’ (Ayandehnews, 2009). For a commentary on Salehi’s remarks see Tabnak (2010) which argued that all Iran can do is ‘to pray’. Falaahatpishe, a key member of Iran’s parliament national security and foreign policy committee called Russian behaviour an ‘unprecedented insult’ (gostaakhi bisaabeghe) (ILNA, 2009). On Russia’s 90 per cent rate of broking promises see also Jalaalizadeh (2009). 10. Iran’s Joint Chief, General Hasan Firoozabadi openly lamented on Russia’ broken promises and the six-month delay in the delivery of the S-300 missiles, see (Fars News, 2009). 11. For an overview of Iran-Tajik relations see the report on bilateral relations at the Joint Iran-Tajik Round Table held in Tehran in 2009, see ‘Mizegerde Moshatarak Iran va Tajikestan’ (2009). 12. Erdogan indicated the volume of trade between two states was $10 billion in 2008 and will be projected to reach beyond $20 billion in 2011. For coverage of Erdogan’s trip see Etemad, (2009), and TRT.Persian (2009).

References Abrahamian, Ervand (2008). A History of Modern Iran. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Abulverdi, Majid (2006). ‘Investigating Iran-Turkmenistan Relations’, Journal of Central Asia and Caucasus Studies, no. 56, pp. 25–3. Ahadi, Afsaaneh (2006). ‘Forsathaaye Iran dar Hamkaari ba Keshvarhaaye Zabaane Farsi’ (Iranian Opportunity for Cooperation with the Persian Speaking Countries), Markaze Tahghighate Strategic, September.

Mohiaddin Mesbahi 187 Ahadi, Afsaaneh (2007). ‘Ravaabete NAATO ba Jomhouri Azarbayejan (NATO’s Relations with Republic of Azerbaijan), NAATO va Mohite Amniyati Iran, no 9; pp. 137–53. Aidin, Mustafa (2001). ‘Rishehaaye Dakheli Bisobaati dar Asiyaaye Markazi va Ghafghaaz’ (The Domestic Sources of Instability in the Caucasus and Central Asia), Faslnaameh Motale’ate Asiyaye Markazi, vol.10, no. 36, Winter. Amirahamdian, Bahram (1996). ‘Tahdidhaaye Amniyati dar Ghafghaaz’ (Security Threats in the Caucasus), Faslnaameh Motale’ate Asiyaye Markazi, vol. 5, no. 13. Spring. Amirahmadian, Bahram (2006). ‘Sheklgiri Arseye Jadide Zheoestrategic dar Asiyaa’ (Formation of New Geostrategic Horizon in Asia), Faslnaameye Asiyaaye Markazi va Ghafghaaz, no. 42. Aras, Bülent and Faith Ozbay (2006). ‘Dances with the Wolves: Russia, Iran and the Nuclear Issue’, Middle East Policy, Winter vol. 23, no. 4, pp. 132–47. Aras, Bülent and Rabia Karakyapolat (2007). ‘Turkey and the Middle East: The Frontiers of the New Geographic Imagination, Australian Journal of International Affairs, vol. 61, no. 4, pp. 471–88. Aras, Bülent (2009). ‘Davutoglu in Turkish Foreign Policy’, SETA Policy Brief, May, no. 32. Atabaki, Touraj, (2004). Azerbaijan: Ethnicity and the Struggle for Power in Iran. London: L. B. Taruis Revised edition. Ayandehnews (2009), interview by Ali Akbar Salehi. Available at http://www. ayandenews.com/news/15836/, accessed on 30 November 2009). Balooch, Mahmoud (2009). ‘Iran and India’s Cooperation in Central Asia’, The China and Eurasia Forum, vol. 7, no. 3, pp. 25–9. Bavand, Davoud Hemidas (2002). ‘The Legal Regime of the Caspian Sea: A Look at the Environmental and Security Aspects’, Amu Darya, vol. 6, no. 11, pp. 1–40. BBC (2009). ‘Tamjid Rahbare Iran az Ordogan Bekhaater Nazdik Shodan be Donyaaye Eslam (Iran’s Leader Praising of Erdogan for Getting Closer to the Islamic World). Available at http://www.bbc.co.uk/persian/lg/iran/2009/10/091028_si_erdogan_ iran.shtml, accessed on 28 October 2009. Bill, James (1989). The Eagle and the Lion; the Tragedy of American-Iranian Relations. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. Bozdaglioglo, Yucelb (2003). Turkish Foreign Policy and Turkish Identity: A Constructivist Approach. London: Routledge. Buzan, Barry and Ole Waever (2005). Regions and Powers: The Structure of International Security. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Chaqueri [Shakeri], Cosroe [Khosrow] (1995). The Soviet Socialist Republic of Iran, 1920–1921: Birth of the Trauma. Pittsburg: Pittsburg University Press. Cos, Kivance and Pinar Bilgin (2010). ‘Stalin’s Demands: Constructions of the “Soviet Other” in Turkey’s Foreign Policy, 1919–1945’, Foreign Policy Analysis, vol. 6, issue 1. Daly, John (2008). ‘Trade and Transit Cooperation Increasing Between Uzbekistan and Iran’, Eurasia Daily Monitor, vol. 5, no. 118. Damirchi Loo, Mojtaba (2008). ‘Developments of the Legal Regime of the Caspian Sea: An Iranian Outlook’, Journal of Central Eurasia Studies (Central for Graduate International Studies, Tehran University-Faculty of Law and Political Science), vol. 1, no. 1, Winter & Spring. Davutoglu, Ahmet (1998). ‘The Clash of Interests: An Explanation of the World (dis)Order’, Perceptions: Journal of International Affairs, vol. 2, no. 4, December– February. Davutoglu, Ahmet (2008). ‘Turkey’s Foreign Policy Vision: An Assessment of 2007’, Insight Turkey, vol. 10, no. 1, pp. 77–96.

188 Eurasia between Russia, Turkey and Iran Davutoglu, Ahmet (2009). ‘Principles of Turkish Foreign Policy: Address by Foreign Minister of Republic of Turkey at the SETA’, The Journal of Turkish Weekly. Available at http://www.turkishweekly.net/news/94008/address-by-turkish-foreign-ministerof-republic-of-turkey-ahmet-davutoglu-at-the-seta.html, accessed on 18 December. Dawisha, Adeed and Karen Dawisha (1982). The Soviet Union in the Middle East. New York: Holmes and Meier. Efegil, Ertan and Leonard A. Stone (2003). ‘Iran and Turkey in Central Asia: Opportunities for Rapprochement in the Post-Cold War Era’, Journal of Third Word Studies, vol. 20, no. 1, pp. 55–77. Etemad (2009). Report on Erdogan Trip, 29 October, p. 1. Falaahatpishe, Heshmatollah (2002). Tahavvolate Amniyyati Asiyaaye Markazi va Ghafghaaz va Amniyyate Melli Iran (Security Changes in Central Asia and the Caucasus and Iran’s National Security) Tehran: Entesharaat Sepaah Passdaarn Enghelab Eslami Iran (The Iranian Revolutionary Guard Press). Fars News (2009). Interview. Available at http://www.farsnews.net/newstext. php?nn=8808220112, accessed on 12 November 2009. Fawcett, Louise Estrange (1992). Iran and the Cold War: The Azerbaijan Crisis of 1946. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Firoozian, Mohammad (2007) ‘Chaaleshhaaye Faraarooye Iran da Daryaaye Khazar (The Challenges Facing Iran in the Caspian Sea), Ooraasiyae Enerjy, no. 8, Summer. Frank, Andre Gunder (1994). ‘The “Third Worldization” of Russia and Eastern Europe’, in Mohiaddin Mesbahi (ed.), Russia and the Third World in the Post Soviet Era. Gainesville: University Press of Florida, pp. 45–72. Freedman, Robert (2006). Russia, Iran, and the Nuclear Question: The Putin Record. US Carlisle, PA: Army War College, Strategic Studies Institute. Gasirowski, Mark, and Nikki Keddie (eds) (1990). Neither East nor West: Iran, the Soviet Union, and the United States. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. Ghahramanpour (2009). ‘Ab’aade Nezami va Siaysi Esteghraare Mooshaki Emerka dar Lahstaan va Chek (Military and Political Dimension of US Missile Deployment in Poland and Check Republic) Faslnaameye Rahbord, vol. 16, no. 48, pp. 7–16. Ghavam, Maleki, Hamid Reza and Bahram Mostaghimi (2008). ‘Feasibility Study of Formation of ECO Regional System’, Journal of Central Eurasia Studies (Central for Graduate International Studies, Tehran University Faculty of Law and Political Science), vol. 1, no. 2, Summer & Fall. Gillgan, Emma (2009). Terror in Chechnya: Russia and the Tragedy of Civilians in War. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Goldman, Marshall (2008). Petrostate: Putin, Power, and the New Russia. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Golzade, Bahram (2009). ‘Roosiyeh Khosheghbaltarin Baizagar Neshaste Genev’ (Russia the Luckiest Winner of Geneva Meeting) Diplomacy Irani, 11 October. Hale, Williams (2000). Turkish Foreign Policy 1744–2000. London: Frank Press. Heraniniya, Javad and Abdulkarim Pahlavani (2008). ‘Hamkaarihaaye Beinulmelali va Toseye bakhshe Energy Joumhouriye Islami Iran: Barrasiye Tajroubeye Roosiyeh’ (International Cooperation and Development of Energy Sector of the Islamic Republic of Iran: The Russian Experience), Rahbord, no. 47, Summer, pp. 3–20. Hersiji, Hossen and Mojtaba Toisirkani (2009). ‘Chashmandaaze Siyasi Ravaabete Farhangi Iran va Armanestan: Barrasiye Oosoole Vaaqegeraai Nou’ (The Political Horizon in Iran-Armenia Cultural Relations: An Analysis of Principles of New Realism’), Faslnaameye Asiyaaye Markazi va Ghafghaaz, no. 64, Winter.

Mohiaddin Mesbahi 189 Hertzig, Edmund (2004). ‘Regionalism, Iran and Central Asia’, International Affairs, vol. 80, no. 3, pp. 503–17. Hunter, Shireen (2004). Islam in Russia: The Politics of Identity And Security. Armonk, NY: M. E Sharpe. Huntington, Samuel (1993). ‘The Clash of Civilizations?’ Foreign Affairs, Summer. Huntington, Samuel (1998). The Clash of Civilizations and the Remaking of World Order. NY: Simon & Schuster. ILNA (2009). Interview. Available at http://www.ilna.ir/newsText.aspx?ID=90277, accessed on 17 November. Imam Khomeini’s Letter (1993), The Institute for Compilation and Publication of the Works of Imam Khomeini, International Affairs Division. Jabbari, Vali (2009). ‘Din Setizi Hokkame Azari Tada’e Konandeye Jenaayaate Shouravi Kommonist’ (Anti-Religionism of Azerbaijan Rulers Reminiscent of Soviet Communist Crimes). Available at http://www.tabnak.ir/fa/pages/?cid=75094, accessed on 2 December. Jalaalizadeh, Jalal (2009). ‘Motahede Naamotma’en’ (Untrustworthy Ally), Etemad, 31 October. Jamshidi, Maram (2009). ‘Ghaaebe Bozoorge Zyafate Khazar’ (The Big Absentee of the Khazar Meeting), Etemad, p. 6, 14 September. Jung, Dietrich (2005). ‘Turkey and the Arab World: Historical Narratives and New Political Realities’, Mediterranean Politics, vol. 10, no. 1 (March), pp. 1–17. Kapur, Harish (1967). Soviet Russia and Asia, 1917–1927: A Study of Soviet Policy Towards Turkey, Iran and Afghanistan. New York: Humanities Press. Karimi, Jahangir (2008). ‘Iran and Central Eurasia’, Journal of Central Eurasia Studies (Centre for Graduate International Studies, Tehran University-Faculty of Law and Political Science), vol. 1, no. 1, Winter & Spring. Kazemzadeh, Firuz (1968). Russia and Britain in Persia, 1864–1914: A Study in Imperialism. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. Kibarroglu, Mustafa and Baris Caglar (2008). ‘Implications of a Nuclear Iran for Turkey’, Middle East Policy, vol.25, no.4, Winter, pp. 59–80. Koolaee, Elaheh (2006). Bazi Bozorge Jadid dar Asiyaaye Miyaneh (The New Great Game in Central Asia). Tehran: The Institute for Political and International Studies. Koolaee, Elaheh (2008). ‘Geopolitics of Energy Transit Through Caucasus’, Journal of Central Eurasia Studies (Central for Graduate International Studies, Tehran University-Faculty of Law and Political Science), vol. 1, no. 1, Winter & Spring. Koolaee, Elahe (2009) ‘Roosiyeh, Amrika va Mozoo-e Iran’ (Russai, Ameria and the Iranian Issue), Etemad Melli, 5 July. Koolaee, Elaheh and Mohammad Mo’dab (2010). ‘Naghshe va Ahamiyate Iran dar Bazaare Energy dar Mantagheye EKO’ (The Role and Significance of Iran in Energy Market of ECO Region) Faslnaamye Ravaabet Khaareji (International Journal of Foreign Relations), vol. 1, no. 3, Spring, pp. 33–54. Kreutz, Andrej (2006). Russia in the Middle East: Friend or Foe? London: Praeger. Kuniholm, Bruce R. (1994). The Origins of the Cold War in the Near East: Great Power Conflict and Diplomacy in Iran, Turkey, and Greece. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Laqueur, Walter (1959). The Soviet Union and the Middle East. Westport, CT: Praeger. Laqueur, Walter (2009). ‘Russia’s Muslim Strategy’, Harvard Middle East Papers: Harvard Middle East Strategy. Available at http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/mesh/files/2009/10/ russia_islam_laqueur.pdf, accessed on 1 November. Lewis, Bernard (1990). ‘The Roots of Muslim Rage’, The Atlantic, September. Available at http://www.theatlantic.com/doc/199009/muslim-rage, accessed on 8 July 2010.

190 Eurasia between Russia, Turkey and Iran Maleki, Abbas (2009). ‘Manaafe Iran Paaymal Shodeh Ast’ (Iranian Interests are Being Stepped On’, Etemad, 14 September, pp. 4 and 16. Masoudniya, Hossein and Davoud Ma’soomi (2009). ‘Boonyadgerai dar Asiyaaye Markazi: Tadaavome Taghabole Hoviyyathaa (Fundamentalism in Central Asia: The Encounters of Identities), Faslnaameye Asiyaaye Markazi va Ghafghaaz, vol. 13, no. 64, Winter. Maybodi, Ali Emami and Bashir Esmaeili (2008). ‘China and Energy Resources in the Caspian Sea Region’, Journal of Central Eurasia Studies (Tehran University Central for Graduate International Studies, Faculty of Law and Political Science), vol. 1, no. 2, Summer & Fall. Mearsheimer, John (2003). The Tragedy of Great Power Politics. New York: W. W. Norton and Company. Mesbahi, Mohiaddin (1993). ‘Russian Foreign Policy and Security in Central Asia and the Caucasus’, Central Asian Survey, vol. 12, no. 2, pp. 181–215. Mesbahi, Mohiaddin (1995). ‘Regional and Global Powers and the International Relations of Central Asia’, in Adeed Dawisha and Karen Dawisha, The Making of Foreign Policy in Russia and the New States of Eurasia. Armonk, NY: M. E. Sharp. Mesbahi, Mohiaddin (1997). ‘Tajikistan, Iran, and the International Politics of “Islamic Factor”’, Central Asian Survey, Fall. Mesbahi, Mohiaddin (2001). ‘Iran’s Foreign Policy Towards Russia, Central Asia and the Caucasus’, in John Esposito and R. H. Ramazani (eds), Iran at the Crossroads New York: Palgrave Macmillan, pp. 149–76. Mesbahi, Mohiaddin (2004). ‘Iran and Central Asia: Paradigm and Policy’, Central Asian Survey, vol. 23, no. 2, pp. 109–39. Milani, Mohsen (1994). The Making of Iran’s Islamic Revolution: From Monarchy to Islamic Republic, 2nd edition. Boulder, CO: Westview. Mirheidar, D and Shemirani (2002). ‘Geopolitics of the Caspian Sea’, Amu Darya, vol. 6, no. 11, pp. 41–88. Mizegerde Moshatarak Iran va Tajikestan (2009). Faslnaameye Asiyaaye Markazi va Ghafghaaz (The Joint Roundtable of Iran and Tajikistan), no. 63, pp. 213–23. Mojtehedzadeh, Pirouz (2009). ‘Khaaterat Montasher Nashodey Pirouze Mojttehedzadeh’ (The Unpublished Memoirs of Pirouz Mojtehedzadeh), Tabnak. Available at http://www.tabnak.ir/fa/pages/?cid=69408, accessed on 29 October. Mottaghi, Ebrahim (2008). ‘The Position of Iran in Energy Market of Central Asia’, Journal of Central Eurasia Studies (Central for Graduate International Studies, Tehran University-Faculty of Law and Political Science), vol. 1, no. 1, Winter & Spring. Mottaki, Manochehr (2008). ‘The Transcript of Manochehr Mottaki Speech ‘Shaanzdahoomin gerdehamaa’I beinolmelali Asiyaaye markazi va ghafghaaz: Rooyarooi dar Ghafghaaz: Rishehaa, ab’aad va payaamdhaa’ (The 16th International Gathering of Central Asia and the Caucasus: Confrontation in the Caucasus: Roots, Dimensions and Implications) cited in Faslnaameh Siyaasat Khareji, vol. 22, no. 3, Fall. Mousavi, Seyed Rasoul (2007). Beyaade Ostaad Abdollah Noori (In Memory of the Teacher, Abdullah Noori), Faslnaameye Asiyaaye Markazi va Ghafghaaz, no. 54, Winter. Mousavi, Seyed Rasoul (2008). ‘Turkmenistan, after Turkmenbashi Domestic and Foreign Challenges of the Shift of Power’, Journal of Central Eurasia Studies, (Central for Graduate International Studies, Tehran University-Faculty of Law and Political Science), vol. 1, no. 1, Winter & Spring. Murinson, Alexander (2006). ‘The Strategic Depth Doctrine of Turkish Foreign Policy’, Middle Eastern Studies, vol. 42, no. 6, November, pp. 945–64. Newsweek (2009). ‘Risky Diplomacy: Turkey’s Foreign Minister Discusses his Country’s Expanding Role as a Regional Power’, By Owen Matthews, Yenal Belgici and

Mohiaddin Mesbahi 191 Semin Gumusel. Available at http://www.newsweek.com/id/224704, accessed on 28 November. Ogutcu, Mehmet (2007). ‘Turkey: A Major Regional Power to Engage or Confront Iran’, Insight Turkey, vol. 9.no. 2, pp. 105–15. O˘ guzlu, Tarik (2007). ‘Soft Power in Turkish Foreign Policy’, Australian Journal of International Affairs, vol. 61, no. 1, March, pp. 81–97. Onuf, Nicholas (1989). World of Our Making: Rules and Rule in Social Theory and International Relations. Columbia, SC: University of South Carolina Press. Pourpooyan, Reza Hossein and Tahereh Mirzaeepour (2009). ‘Tahlil-e Naghshe va Jaaygaah-e Jadid-e Oraasya dar Esterateji Ghodrathaaye Jahani’ (Analysis of the Role and the New Place of Eurasia in Great Powers’ Strategy), Faslnaameye Asiyaaye Markazi va Ghafghaaz, no. 64, p. 143. Qeysari, Nor-O-Allah (2009). ‘Iran-Armenia Ties: Opportunities and Obstacles’, Journal of Central Eurasia Studies (Central for Graduate International Studies, Tehran University Faculty of Law and Political Science), vol. 2, no. 3, Winter & Spring. Ramazani, Rouhollah K. (1966). The Foreign Policy of Iran: A Developing Nation in World Affairs, 1500–1941. Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia. Ramazani, Rouhollah K. (1975). Iran’s Foreign Policy, 1941–1973: A Study of Foreign Policy in Modernizing Nations. Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia. Rezazadeh, Sekhaavat (2008). ‘Esterategy Khaavarmianeie Torkiyeh va Mahddodiyat va Matloobiythaaye Iran’ (Turkey’s Middle East Strategy and Iran’s Limitations and Preferences), Gozaaresh Raahbordi, Winter. Rezun, Miron (1988). The Soviet Union and Iran: Soviet Policy in Iran from the Beginnings of the Pahlavi Dynasty Until the Soviet Invasion in 1941. Boulder, CO: Westview. Russel, John (2007). Chechnya-Russia’s ‘War on Terror’. London: Routledge. Sadri, Houman (2003). ‘Elements of Azerbaijan Foreign Policy’, Journal of Third World Studies, vol. 20, no. 1, pp. 179–92. Saghafi Ameri, Naser (2005). ‘Roosiyeh va Parvandeh Haste’i Iran’ (Russia and the Iran’s Nuclear Issue’, Gozaresh Rahbordi, September. Saghafi Ameri, Naser (2008). ‘Iran dar Kannone Motalaateme Amerika va Roosiyeh (Iran in the Tumultuous US-Russian Relations), Gozaaresh Rahbordi (Center for Strategic Research) Summer. Available at http://www.csr.ir/departments.aspx?lng= fa&abtid=06&&depid=44&semid=1353, accessed on 8 July 2010. Setoodehnejad, Shahab (2004). ‘Payvandhaaye Tarikhi va Farhangi Maabeine Armanestan va Iran (Historical and Cultural Ties Between Iran and Armenia), Faslnaameye Paymaan, no. 26, Winter. Shirazi, Habibollah (2003). ‘Russian and Iranian National Interests and Their Policies in the Caspian Geopolitical Region’, in Sally Cummings, Oil, Transition and Security in Central Asia. London/New York: Routledge. Tabnak (2010). ‘Tanhaa Mitavanim Beneshinim va Du’a Koinim ta Roosiyeh Barayemaan Niroogaah Besazad (We Can Only Sit and Pray for Russia to Build Us a Power Plant!), 12 January. The Official Site of the Office of the Supreme Leader Ayatollah Khamene’i (2007) ‘Iranians have a Fine Image from Russians in Mind’. Available at http://www.wilayat. org/langs/en/index.php?=contentShow&id=3647, accessed on 22 April 2009. TRT.Persian (Turkish Radio TV in Persian) (2009). ‘Nokhost Vazire Torkiyeh: Marzahaaye Iran va Turkie na Jodaakonandeh Balkeh Payvand Dandeh Ast (Turkish Prime Minister: Iran-Turkey Borders are Not Separating but Connecting). Available at http:// www.trtpersian.com/trtinternational/fa/newsDetail.aspx?HaberKodu=a447d12ff665-43f7-99a1-5b25af0dd9bc&title= , accessed on 27 October 2009.

192 Eurasia between Russia, Turkey and Iran Vaezi, Mahmood (2003). ‘Avaamel Bisobati dar Ghafghaaz va Roykardhaaye Amniyati’ (Reasons for Instability in the Caucasus and Security Approaches), Faslnaameh Motale’ate Asiyaye Markazi, Winter, no. 44. Vaezi, Mahmoud (2007a). ‘Aamele Saazande dar Siyaasat Khaareji va Toseye San’ate nafte Iran (Influential Factor in Foreign Policy and Development of Iran’s Oil Industry), Occasional Paper, Center for Strategic Research, Winter. Vaezi, Mahmoud (2007b). ‘Nemaayeshe Ghodrat: Tahlile Raftaare Roosiyeh dar Ghebale Eghdaamaate Eeyaalate Mottahedeh Emrika: Dalal’el va Farziyehaa’ (The Power Play: Analysis of Russian Behavior Towards US Actions, Reasons and Hypotheses), Hamshahri Diplomatik, no. 18. Vaezi, Mahmoud (2007c). ‘Miyanjigari dar Monagheshaate Beinulmelali: Olgooye Miyanjigari Jomhouri Eslami Iran dar Bohraane Gharabagh va Tajikestan (Mediation in International Conflicts: The Mediation Model of Islamic Republic of Iran in the Nagorno Karabakh and Tajikistan Crises), Naamye Mofid, vol. 13, no. 61. Velayati, Aliakbar (2007). ‘Jaayegaahe Motafaavete keshvarhaaye Sharq va Gharb dar Siyaasate Khaareji Iran’ (The Different Place of Eastern and Western Countries in the Foreign Policy of the Islamic Republic), Hamshahri Diplomatik, no. 3, Summer. Voldarsky, Mikhail (1994). The Soviet Union and Its Southern Neighbours: Iran and Afghanistan 1917–1933. London: Routledge. Waltz, Kenneth (1979). Theory of International Politics. New York: McGrawHill. Wendt, Alexander (1999). Social Theory of International Politics. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. White, Stephen (1974). ‘Communism and the East: The Baku Congress, 1920’, Slavic Review, vol. 33, no. 3, September, , pp. 492–514. Zabih, Sepehr (1966). Communist Movement in Iran. Berkley: University of California Press.

Part III Intergovernmental Organisations and Non-State Actors, Russia and Eurasia

This page intentionally left blank

9 Senseless Dreams and Small Steps: The CIS and CSTO between Integration and Cooperation Richard Sakwa

The pursuit of integration in post-Soviet Eurasia (PSE) concerns institutions, but it is also about ideas: the vision that the region at some level remains some sort of political community. While the dream of unity remains an active project, the object remains as elusive as ever. Initiative is piled upon declaration, yet there appears to be little substantive progress. The lack of large-scale achievement in integration, however, belies some small advances at the level of cooperation, especially at the subregional level. The ambition to recreate some sort of pan-Eurasian body covering the greater part of the former Soviet Union is clearly for the present a hopeless dream. The Commonwealth of Independent States (CIS) lacks an internal dynamic for development, and while its routine gatherings of heads of state and other officials continues to provide a forum for negotiation and a sphere to solve certain practical problems, the CIS has not developed into anything like an analogue of the European Union (EU). However, the Collective Security Treaty Organisation (CSTO; in Russian Organizatsiya dogovora o kollektivnoi bezopasnosti, ODKB) does show certain cohesive qualities, and although it is a relatively small organisation with a restricted mandate, its continued development suggests that the cooperative drive in PSE is not altogether exhausted. It represents a small and partial step, but perhaps more importantly indicates the way that genuine integration projects can be achieved. Indeed, soon after his inauguration on 7 May 2008 Dmitry Medvedev stated that strengthening Russia’s ties with other former Soviet republics would be the priority for his presidency, and his first foreign visit as president was to Kazakhstan (Moscow Times, 23 May 2008). This was in contrast with Vladimir Putin, who began his presidency by stressing the importance of ties with the EU. However, war in the Caucasus within months of Medvedev’s inauguration demonstrated just how complex the combination of internal pressures and external influence had become. Conflicting internal imperatives and outside interests rendered the former Soviet space the focus of a new era of confrontation. 195

196 Senseless Dreams and Small Steps

Russia’s aims and general trends Russia’s intentions have been the subject of considerable controversy, and fear of a forcible drive to re-establish something akin to the Russian Empire or Soviet Union has fuelled much alarmist rhetoric. From the first Russia insisted that maintaining stability in the region was vital to its national interest, and the draft ‘Basic Provisions of the Concept of the Foreign Policy of the Russian Federation’ in December 1992 insisted that the creation of a ‘belt of good-neighbourliness’ was Russia’s primary goal (Valdez, 1995, p. 94). Any number of statements in the following years reinforced these sentiments, characterised no less by a blurring of domestic and foreign policy categories. Putin’s statement in his address to the Federal Assembly on 25 April 2005 that the break-up of the Soviet Union in 1991 was ‘the biggest geopolitical catastrophe’ of the twentieth century and a ‘tragedy for the Russian people’, accompanied by warnings that the ‘epidemic of collapse’ was threatening Russia itself, was taken by many as a signal that this ‘catastrophe’ should be rectified, although Putin had the opposite intention. He went on to stress that the Soviet Union was a thing of the past, and the coherence of contemporary Russia depended not on retreating from democracy but on strengthening democratic institutions and principles (Rossiiskaya gazeta, 25 April 2005). His tenure was accompanied by two main processes of concern to us. The first focused on strengthening internal hierarchy within Russia itself, the so-called power vertical (although this was a term Putin used only three times in his first year in office, and then dropped altogether). The second was the attempt to make Russia the system-forming power, or Ordnungsmacht, in the CIS. This ambition had certainly not been lacking under President Boris Yeltsin in the 1990s, but as a recent study makes clear, Russian leaders in the 1990s had no clear intent to restore anything like an ‘informal empire’ in the so-called ‘near abroad’ (Sagramoso, forthcoming). After all, Russia had been one of the main initiators of the break-up of the USSR and immediately recognised all the successor republics in their existing borders, and the statebuilding project in post-communist Russia was predicated on discarding the country’s imperial legacy. Under Putin, however, power ambitions remained and to a degree gained greater salience, but were now pursued in a more sophisticated although not entirely more successful manner. The old ambivalence towards the region was if anything intensified as the emphasis was increasingly placed on market factors and self-sustaining economic interactions. It was for this reason that relations shifted from a ‘subsidy’ model to a more complex interdependence approach. This applied equally to close allies, notably Armenia and Belarus, as it did to estranged partners, such as Ukraine after the ‘revolutionary coup’ (otherwise known as the Orange Revolution) of late 2004 (Lane, 2008). Russia’s more assertive behaviour, it should be stressed,

Richard Sakwa 197

did not necessarily mean more aggressive actions, although when it came to energy disputes with transit states Putin revealed a robust directness that alarmed the destination countries. In general, as Nygren has demonstrated, Putin modified what is taken to be traditional Russian geopolitical thinking in favour of a more complex combination of great power practices and geoeconomic policies that would rebuild Russia as a post-imperialist state but one in which its hegemonic status was confirmed not by the exercise of raw power but by a network of complex interdependencies (Nygren, 2008). The methods employed to achieve this post-modernist project, however, were entirely pre-modern (something certainly not lacking in the world of contemporary diplomacy in general), namely the development of a system of personal relationships with CIS leaders. The hegemonic strategy was Putin’s own, and he invested considerable efforts in achieving his goals. Sometimes this worked, as in his relations with some Central Asian leaders and Armenia; in some cases it was at best a partial success, in the cases of Belarus and Ukraine under Leonid Kuchma; and in some cases it was an absolute disaster, as in Putin’s relations with the Georgian leader Mikheil Saakashvili. Putin’s approach to PSE was thus highly personalised. Putin assiduously cultivated the leaders of the CIS, but he paid little attention to its development as an organisation (more on this below). He also, according to some accounts, became the champion of Russia’s ‘consolidated authoritarian’, and thus used numerous strategies in the former Soviet space to bolster the Kremlin’s power (Ambrosio, 2009). Certainly Russia used numerous political economy levers, such as credits, energy supplies, trade preferences and the like to influence its neighbours, but these fell far short of ‘control’. Such an approach is far too simplistic and fails to take into account the complexity of Russian domestic politics and the multiple contradictions and vulnerabilities in Russia’s relations with its neighbours. Relations with CIS member states were complex and none consisted of simple dependency, including even with those like Armenia most reliant on Russia for military and economic support. Recognising the obstacles to the institutional ramification of the CIS, Putin turned to the development of subregional organisations, notably the CSTO, in which Russia could take the lead and bind its allies to itself. The aim here was to give institutional form to the creation of a regional security complex, as described by Buzan and Wæver (2003). The existence of such a complex was intended to provide a platform for the pursuit of Russia’s broader goals, notably opposition to the North Atlantic Treaty Organisation (NATO) enlargement. The prevention of NATO’s extension into the post-Soviet region (excluding the Baltic republics) was not simply intended to ensure Russia’s pre-eminence in PSE but designed to ensure that Russia remained an autonomous great power, a distinction that is quite important for understanding the fundamental processes in the region. It is for this reason that following the Russo-Georgian war and the clear dangers of NATO’s extension to the region there was talk

198 Senseless Dreams and Small Steps

of rendering Georgia (and by implication some other states, possibly including Ukraine) a neutral state (Moskovskii komsomolets, 3 March 2009). The potential for integration in post-Soviet Eurasia is not entirely exhausted, and new forms of integration remain possible, although in certain respects it will be difficult to maintain even the existing level of association. After nearly two decades the trends remain ambivalent (Pivovar, 2008). It is customary, moreover, to consider processes in PSE through the prism of some sort of continuation of the Cold War, nowadays adorned with the misleading moniker of the ‘new great game’. As Kazantsev (2008) notes, if we do use the term it is important to stress that the rules of this game are unknown. Thus Trofimchuk (2007) asks whether the fall of the USSR was the end or only the beginning of the disintegration of the post-Soviet space, and indeed, whether the disintegration would spread to Russia itself. He asks whether Russia would be able to count on the support of its neighbours, and which of these countries could be used against Russia and which should become Russia’s main strategic partner. As far as he was concerned the main actors – America, the EU, and China – had clear strategic aims, whereas Russia had still not determined its goals. The book was an explicit response to Brzezinski’s depiction of post-cold war international politics as a competitive ‘grand chessboard’ (1997). The grand chessboard Soon after the Russo-Georgian War of 8–12 August 2008, Medvedev (2008) issued a five-point statement, which ended with the assertion that postSoviet Eurasia for Russia was a region of ‘privileged interests’. Whether this amounts to the imposition of some sort of substantive droit de regard in the region with the potential to become the kernel of a neo-imperial policy in which Russian preferences are imposed on its willing or unwilling partners, or is little more than the negative agenda of excluding external security actors, remains the subject of considerable controversy. A typical charge is that the indeterminacy of the various ‘frozen conflicts’ has suited Russia well, although the evidence suggests that Russia’s approach was contradictory and there were some genuine attempts to find solutions to the four most intractable problems until the war of August 2008 resolved the fate of the two former Georgian territories in the most decisive manner possible. By the same token, the question is posed whether Russia’s neighbours are ready and willing to accept some form of Russian hegemony. It is clear that some of the factors usually adduced in support of this are at best weak and partial. These include a common history in which Russia has traditionally been the dominant partner, strong cultural affinity, which is especially strong with Belarus, as well as a common Eurasian political culture or philosophical orientation. States with shared values, or so the EU asserts, tend to share the same interests, and if this applies in Western Europe than there is no reason to assume that this law (if indeed it is a regularity of this type) does

Richard Sakwa 199

not function in Eurasia. In all of this one should not forget the factor of raw power (both military and economic), which has helped to keep Armenia aligned with Russia and Belarus locked into a permanent unification process that is never consummated. Russia’s claims to be a regional great power have been implemented in the form of peacekeeping operations. Throughout the region Russia has claimed to be the guarantor of peace, but this itself (as with America’s similar claims) is a form of hegemonic assertion and begs the question about the equitability of that peace and the ensuing bandwagoning and balancing effects. Although Russia is by far the dominant military power, its status (for example) as the sole regional nuclear power in anything other than in the most cataclysmic circumstances can hardly be converted into power on the ground. Hence the notion of Russian ‘client states’ is misleading, since hegemonic dominance (as the US well knows) rarely translates into direct control. Nevertheless, Russia’s hegemonic status means that the politics of integration are permanently refracted through the prism of great power politics accompanied by the bandwagoning and balancing predicted by neo-realist thinking.

The Commonwealth of Independent States (CIS) The demise of the CIS has long been predicted, but it appeared finally to have arrived with the Russo-Georgian war of August 2008 and Georgia’s declaration that it would leave the organisation. The procedure was activated, and a year later Georgia left the grouping, reducing membership to eleven states. Created as a hurried response to the break-up of the Soviet Union in December 1991, the CIS retained its initial character as a fire-fighting organisation, designed to plug gaps and to prevent a catastrophic breakdown in relations, political, social, and economic, in the area of the former USSR. Georgia was a late member, joining only in 1992, while Ukraine always feared that integration in the CIS would foreclose its drive to the west. Conventionally described as an instrument to manage a ‘civilised divorce’, the CIS adequately performed its minimal coordinating functions but has been unable to generate an integrative dynamic (Sakwa and Webber, 1999). The institutions of the CIS remain weak and no more than 10 per cent of the signed agreements and treaties have been implemented (Kobrinskaya, 2007, p. 14). Although a Russian presidential decree of 14 September 1995 recognised the principle of multi-speed integration in the CIS, even the most imaginative variable geometry could not disguise the fact that the CIS has not moved close to its original ambition of becoming an EU-type of common market (Vinokurov, 2007, p. 40). The CIS has at most become a very loose confederation, in which centrifugal trends predominate, while the federal element became increasingly vestigial. Mark Webber argues that the absence of federalisation within the CIS derived from ‘inter-state competition, underinstitutionalisation, and

200 Senseless Dreams and Small Steps

a weakness of unifying values, alongside incongruities arising from national elite perceptions, state viability, regime type, and levels of economic convergence’ (Webber, 2002, p. 170). The region remains in the sovereignty accumulation phase of state-building, and resistance to the pooling of sovereignty for any but the most basic functionalist tasks, based in part on fear of falling under the sway of the regional hegemon, has generated a dynamic tending towards disintegration and undermined even the limited impetus towards integration. Indeed, as we shall describe below, these fears have divided the CIS between those countries willing to ‘bandwagon’ in support of Russian-led regional integration initiatives, and those who prioritise ‘balancing’ strategies in the form of subregional organisations of their own. Attempts to map ideological orientations on this fundamental division, with the balancers sometimes seen as more democratic because of their greater pro-westernism, and the bandwagoners as authoritarian arising from their greater dependence or willingness to rely on Russia, do not always correspond to reality. The fundamental question focuses on whether the post-Soviet space (excluding the Baltic republics and probably some other parts as well) comprises some sort of integral system of its own, or whether ultimately the area will divide into various subregions. In other words, is there some sort of centripetal integrative force at work, or are centrifugal pressures predominant? Can the interests of the various participants coincide, or are they necessarily opposed? If the latter is the case, then integrative efforts will remain nugatory. Equally, it too often appeared to Russia’s partners that its big neighbour was ready to sacrifice their interests as part of larger calculations in East-West relations. By the same token, knowing how important it was for Russia for member states of the CIS to participate in summits, attendance could be made subject to deals and benefits from Russia (a tactic practised with particular ruthlessness by the Turkmenistan leadership). This may well be part of normal summit procedures, but the crudeness of these tactics in PSE was exceptional. Perhaps above all, even some of Russia’s closest allies, notably Armenia, had a long list of grievances, including the loss of control over its own energy distribution system. Russia’s state interests were too often subsumed into those of its giant corporations, pre-eminently Gazprom. A number of factors have inhibited further integration. The first is fear of Russia among the other members. One of the factors allowing the EU to develop in its early years was the rough parity among its leading members, whereas the CIS is fundamentally lopsided as a result of Russia’s sheer size. It will inevitably dominate any regional organisation of which it is a member, a preponderance perceived by some of the others as deliberate and part of a neo-imperial strategy. The neocolonial model concerns not just the perceived encroachments on sovereignty by the Russian state, but also fear of the Russian nation and its settler communities, numbering some 25 million

Richard Sakwa 201

in 1991, in the former Soviet republics. The perception of Russians influences the way that Russia as a state is viewed (Hagendoorn et al., 2001). The second is the existence of an alternative zone of integration to the west. This generates a dynamic in which greater integration in the CIS, and with it coming under the shade of Russian hegemony, however benign or not that it may be, is perceived as an alternative to the model of development and democracy propounded by the EU, and in a different way by NATO. Membership of the western organisations is seen to be a way of escaping from the determinism of geography. Third, stymied state development in Moldova, Georgia, and Azerbaijan, in which Russia was involved in various secessionist conflicts, generated contradictory eddies of repulsion and attraction. Separatist struggles were a fundamental issue in relations with these three states, as well as with Armenia, locked in a struggle with Azerbaijan over Nagorno-Karabakh. There were also other potential conflict zones. Ukraine claimed that Russia was supporting separatist organisations in Donetsk, Crimea, and Transcarpathia. Russia was accused of using the Sevastopol branch of the Institute for CIS Countries, whose headquarters in Moscow was headed by Konstantin Zatulin, to subvert the Ukrainian state. Zatulin, as well as the head of the Liberal Democratic Party Vladimir Zhirinovsky and Moscow mayor Yuri Luzhkov, were banned from entering Ukraine. The three were forthright in their view that the transfer by Nikita Khrushchev of Crimea to Ukraine in 1954 had been illegal. The Crimean situation had the potential to become another of the frozen conflicts in the region, especially since Russia was accused of issuing passports to citizens on the peninsula. The fourth factor is the relatively low level of economic development in PSE, with the movement of finished and semi-finished products comprising about half of trade, whereas in the EU it is 80 per cent, creating an economic transnationalism that in due course became the basis for further political integration. In the CIS agricultural and raw materials represent the bulk of trade, and these primary products tend to repel each other since they are competing for the same markets. The division of the CIS countries into exporters and importers of energy resources only exacerbates tensions. Energy exporters like Russia, Kazakhstan, Turkmenistan, and Azerbaijan seek markets outside the CIS, where prices and profits are higher, although access to these markets creates new patterns of dependency between themselves. The CIS transit countries are increasingly perceived as obstacles to be overcome rather than partners, hence the outbreak of ‘gas wars’ and the like, as Russia tried to shift relations to more market-oriented terms. Putin on numerous occasions complained about Russia’s annual $3.5 billion subsidy to Ukraine in the form of cheap energy. Since 1990 the proportion of intra-CIS trade has fallen from 60 to 18 per cent. The list could be extended but the point is clear: there are some profound structural impediments to CIS integration, and these reinforce the weak political desire for unity in the region.

202 Senseless Dreams and Small Steps

A fifth and final point should be noted: Russia’s own ambivalence about the CIS. On a visit to Armenia on 25 March 2005 Putin referred to the CIS in dismissive terms, noting that ‘The stated aims were one thing, but in reality the CIS was formed in order to make the Soviet Union’s collapse as civilised and smooth as possible and to minimise the economic and humanitarian losses it entailed, above all for the people’ (www.kremlin.ru). From the summer of 2005 Russia stressed that relations with post-Soviet Eurasia had to be placed on a strictly economic basis. However, as part of the government reorganisation following Medvedev’s inauguration a new Federal Agency for CIS Affairs was created, highlighting the political as well as economic importance of the region for Russia. In the early 1990s there had been a special ministry to deal with former Soviet states, suggesting that the region was not entirely ‘foreign’, but this had later been downgraded to little more than a department in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs (MID), in part to obviate the turf battles between the two. However, the absence of a coordinating body led to disjointed policy, and in 2005 an interagency body was created under the presidency, but this has not proven effective as well, lacking bureaucratic and political weight. The status of the new agency, however, was unclear, and its formal subordination to MID perpetuated some of the old problems in a new form. While integration has failed to develop, the cooperation agenda has been marked by certain achievements. This reflects the fact that the former Soviet Union is more than just a political space but it is still sustained by extensive family, educational, and personal ties across the various republic borders, quite apart from residual economic interdependencies. To reflect this, the coordination functions of the CIS remain, notably in the payment of pensions and certain social security benefits across national borders, the retention of visa-free travel (except Georgia), and the residual integration of transport and power systems. However, even Russia in December 2000 withdrew from full participation in the 1992 Bishkek agreement on visa-free travel for CIS members, alienating its putative allies. In the end ‘The Georgian community living in Russia [some 198,000 strong] became a hostage of the countries’ bilateral relationship’ (Markedonov, 2009, p. 13). While the failure of frontiers to become fully-fledged borders is lamented by Ukrainian nationalists, for those living in frontier regions the continued fuzziness in the cross-border regime is greatly welcomed. Above all, the regular CIS summits provide a framework for leaders to talk and to get to know each other personally. Saakashvili attended Medvedev’s first CIS summit as host on 6 June 2008, and they had a bilateral meeting. Medvedev called on Saakashvili to agree to a commitment banning the use of force to resolve the frozen conflicts with the breakaway regions. However, in the Georgian case the face-to-face meeting did not in the end resolve any of the fundamental issues dividing the two countries, and the summit proved to be Georgia’s last as a member of the organisation. On the big questions the story is one of failure.

Richard Sakwa 203

At that meeting Medvedev insisted that Moscow considered the former Soviet republics a zone of vital security and economic interests and would seek to prevent the move towards the West of some of the organisation’s members. In a press conference after the summit Foreign Minister Sergei Lavrov insisted that ‘Those who want to see Georgia in NATO, why do they want it? If they think that this would be an instrument for resolution of the Georgian–Abkhaz and Georgian–South Ossetian conflicts, then they should realise it is an illusion.’ Equally, Medvedev made it clear to the Ukrainian president, Viktor Yushchenko, that Moscow did not welcome Ukraine’s bid to join NATO, and argued that membership would violate the 1997 Ukrainian– Russian treaty, and was disappointed that Yushchenko had declared that Ukraine would not renew the basing agreement in Sevastopol when it expired in 2017 (Moscow Times, 7 June 2008). A common currency zone did not survive, and neither did a single juridical space, while its conflict resolution potential was fairly weak, even though some peacekeeping operations were organised under its aegis. After nearly two decades it is clear that the CIS has not been able to develop either as an institutionalised form of Russian hegemony or as a genuinely equal partnership of member states committed to deeper integration. The CIS has not become an attractive proposition for its members, and even Russia has feared being constrained by its multilateral obligations. The body remains under-institutionalised, and thus ineffective; although there is little evidence to suggest that greater institutionalisation would render the organisation more viable. Even as the forum for inter-member trade, as noted, the organisation has declined. Most states diversified into world markets, so even as a common market the CIS is becoming irrelevant. Even when technically successful, Russian peacekeeping operations have been seen by host countries as instruments of imperial reassertion. Perhaps overriding all other factors is the asynchronous nature of integration and sovereignty in PSE. Countries in the region are flexing their muscles and maturing as sovereign states in the international system, and even the most benign of regional integration projects is naturally considered with suspicion. Any hint of neoBrezhnevite ‘limited sovereignty’ within a Russian tutelary regime provokes a vigorous reaction. Such sentiments are exacerbated by the presence of powerful alternative socioeconomic (EU) and security (NATO) integration projects in the immediate neighbourhood. Already the Baltic republics are full members of this alternative, and the Baltic strategy is attractive to other states, particularly in western Eurasia and the south Caucasus.

Bandwagoning regional organisations Regional integration, even in a relatively coherent meso-region such as Central Asia, has been limited. Security regionalism has been rather more effective than economic integration, in part because the latter is inhibited

204 Senseless Dreams and Small Steps

by the prevalence of patrimonial leaders in the area, whose interests would be directly undermined by moves towards the inevitable liberalisation that economic regionalism entails. Security integration, on the other hand, has tended to bolster the power of the patrimonial leaderships, and has thus developed rather more intensively (Collins, 2009). Collective Security Treaty Organisation (CSTO) and security issues The Collective Security Treaty (CST) was signed at the CIS summit in Tashkent on 15 May 1992 by Armenia, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Russia, Tajikistan, and Uzbekistan, while Azerbaijan, Belarus, and Georgia joined in 1993. The three Baltic republics from the first refused to have anything to do with integration endeavours in PSE, a sentiment ultimately shared by Ukraine. The Tashkent Treaty echoed the principles of Article 5 of NATO, stating that aggression against one of the signatory parties would be considered aggression against them all. However, the group was less a multilateral military and political alliance than a way of legitimating Russian military assistance to the signatory states. As with the CIS, the integrative dynamic at first was weak but the coordination functions were salient. The Tashkent meeting agreed on the distribution of Conventional Forces in Europe (CFE) Treaty limits among the newly independent states. However, unlike the CIS the integration element remained and the CST represented one of the very few successful attempts to build a broad multilateral body within the framework of the CIS. By 2001 a 2,500-strong Rapid Deployment Force had been created, at least on paper. The commitment of Azerbaijan, Georgia, and Uzbekistan, however, was minimal and in 1999 they left. The remaining countries divided into three operational groups; Russia and Belarus in the West, Russia and Armenia in the Caucasus, and Russia, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, and Tajikistan in Central Asia. There was little substantive military integration in the 1990s. The only significant CST operation was the deployment of a CIS peacekeeping force in Tajikistan, which amounted to the Russian-dominated 201st motorised rifle division. To maintain and foster integration, on 14 May 1999 the CST was transformed into the Collective Security Treaty Organisation (CSTO), similar in form to NATO although its substance was very different. On 7 October 2002 its Charter was adopted at the Chisinau summit in Moldova. The CSTO at that time united Armenia, Belarus, Russia, Kyrgyzstan, Kazakhstan, and Tajikistan, while Uzbekistan ‘rejoined’ at the CSTO summit in Minsk on 23 June 2006. The new organisation is managed by a number of executive bodies, including a Council on Collective Security, comprising the heads of state, as well as councils of foreign and defence ministers and a Joint Military Staff. The tripartite regional structure was retained, but the aim now was to add some operational content into what had been a largely political organisation. The Central Asian rather than Western focus remained, with Russia deploying aircraft to the Kant airbase near Bishkek in Kyrgyzstan.

Richard Sakwa 205

In May 2003 CSTO adopted an ambitious security agenda, including a joint military command in Moscow, a rapid reaction force, a common air defence system, and ‘coordinated action’ in foreign, security, and defence policy (Allison, White and Light, 2005, p. 494). The grouping has international status, and is recognised as an observer organisation at the UN General Assembly. Putin sought to raise its status further by establishing direct contacts between CSTO and NATO; something resisted by NATO since it would effectively grant CSTO parity status. The organisation at first concentrated on Islamic threats, and from 2005 organised joint military exercises in Central Asia. Through the CSTO Russia has supplied its partners with armaments at preferential domestic prices. While President Alexander Lukashenko of Belarus greeted the creation of the CSTO as a counterweight to NATO, most were sceptical over whether it would really be able to act as the kernel of an alternative geopolitical centre to act in some ways as the successor to the Warsaw Pact. This, however, is a common interpretation. As Socor (2009) puts it, ‘The CSTO is also meant as a symbolic continuator of the Soviet-era Warsaw Treaty Organisation (WTO) and a consolation prize for Russia’s loss of that political–military bloc in Central and Eastern Europe.’ He notes that the CSTO’s ‘slowlydeveloping structure and its working procedures are broadly modelled on those of the WTO’, even though the focus of attention had moved from Eastern Europe to Central Asia. The main threats to Russia were identified as coming from this region, although the CSTO as we have seen also has a western zone of responsibility (Belarus–Russia) and one in the south Caucasus (Russia–Armenia). Even though the CSTO is a bandwagoning organisation, this does not mean it is simply a tool of Moscow policy. This was clearly in evidence at its summit on 5 September 2008, when its final declaration condemned Georgia’s attempt to use military force to solve its separatist problems and the ensuing humanitarian problems, but insisted on the full implantation of the principles enumerated in the Medvedev–Sarkozy plan, including international negotiations on long-term security guarantees (Deklaratsiya, 2008). There was no mention of ‘genocide’, or endorsement of Russia’s recognition of the two new states. A similar approach had been taken by the SCO summit a few days earlier (27–28 August 2008), which demonstrated China’s ability to act as a countervailing force to Russia’s integrative efforts. Even Belarus feared to jeopardise its moves towards rapprochement with the EU by recognising the two regions. Nevertheless, Moscow’s demonstration that it was willing to use hard power when it felt that its interests were directly threatened acted as a potentially disciplinary mechanism and tempered some of the more extreme Russophobic temptations among its neighbours. At the CSTO summit on 4 February 2009 in Moscow members agreed to create the rapid reaction force that had been planned earlier. Russia promised 10,000 troops, while Kazakhstan was to supply 4,000. Kazakhstan’s

206 Senseless Dreams and Small Steps

participation was particularly important since some considered it would weaken its impartiality as it took over the chair of the OSCE in 2010. The decision was controversial, if only because the force could potentially be used against one of its members. This certainly was something that Azerbaijan feared in connection with its attempts to restore its sovereignty over Nagorno-Karabakh (Ismailzade, 2009). Moscow is one of the three co-chairs of the OSCE’s Minsk group handling the mediation process over the conflict, but at the same time it is one of Armenia’s closest allies. The fundamental relationship with most members remained bilateral. This was the case with Kazakhstan, and indeed the country had joined NATO’s Partnership for Peace (PfP) programme in 1994 and later was granted an Individual Partnership Action Plan (IPAP). The Kant base in Kyrgyzstan was an important operational centre for the new CSTO force. However, the summit was unable to agree on a single command of the collective forces, as Russia wished; with the main opposition led by President Islam Karimov of Uzbekistan and Lukashenko. Belarus did not contribute any troops, while Uzbekistan stated that it would decide on a case-by-case basis. Russia’s longterm aim was to ensure that the CSTO could mount peacekeeping operations not only in member states but also outside of its membership zone; but this again was something that Belarus opposed, insisting that its troops would not be deployed in conflict zones in ex-Soviet territories. The struggle for geopolitical pre-eminence in PSE was evident over the issue of bases in Central Asia. Following the 9/11 attack Putin had personally convinced the Russian high command to permit the Americans to establish bases in the region to supply and support the campaign in Afghanistan. As relations deteriorated, and America appeared to lever every Russian concession to its unilateral advantage, the Russian position shifted. The KharsiKhanabad base in Uzbekistan was closed in July 2005, but the struggle over the American presence at Manas airport continued. As the ‘Tulip Revolution’ of February 2005 turned sour, on 20 February 2009 the Kyrgyzstan president, Kurmanbek Bakiev, signed the bill into law to close the base within 180 days. The move enjoyed widespread public support, but was linked to the Russian decision shortly before to provide some $150 million in direct aid and $300 million in low-interest credits to tide the country over the economic crisis, as well as the $1.7 billion promised for the Kambarata-1 hydropower station. Kyrgyzstan’s accumulated debts were thus paid off and resources granted that far exceeded the reputed $100 million annual rent paid by America for use of the base. At the same time Russia intensified its presence at the nearby Kant airfield, planning to double spending on the base in 2009 and 2010 compared to the first five years of its presence there. Since opening in 2003 it had gradually expanded to host three squadrons of Russian Su-25 ground attack aircraft (NATO name Frogfoot) and Su-27 fighter aircraft (Flanker), as well as various transport aircraft (An-26) and some helicopters and training aircraft (McDermott, 2009a). According to the liberal former Duma deputy,

Richard Sakwa 207

Vladimir Ryzhkov (Moscow Times, 17 March 2009), ‘The Manas closing and the end of Kyrgyzstan’s democracy are closely connected. Moscow, deeply entrenched in a geopolitical rivalry with Washington, has been fulfilling the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation mandate of 2005 – to push US military bases out of Central Asia.’ As Kyrgystan took an increasingly authoritarian path, with the ruling Ak Zhol party holding 71 of the 90 parliamentary seats, it followed Uzbekistan’s example. When it came to transit routes to support NATO and American operations in Afghanistan, Russia offered a stark choice. Land and air access would be granted in return for which Russia demanded to be treated as a respected ally and partner, accompanied not by the rhetoric of ‘strategic partnership’ typical of the first decade of Russian independence but by substantive policy modifications, including the practices of neo-containment that had tried to supplant Russian influence in Central Asia and elsewhere. As part of the ‘resetting’ of relations in Barack Obama’s presidency, the head of the seven-member CSTO alliance, Nikolai Bordyuzha, on 20 March 2009 offered ‘every kind’ of help to NATO forces in Afghanistan (Moscow Times, 23 March 2009). A new supply route was also forged through the south Caucasus, with Azerbaijan becoming the hub of a new network of routes across the Caspian to the Kazakhstan port of Aktau and on to Afghanistan. Georgia confirmed its support for the diversification of supply routes and offered to host an American air base. As the Georgian Foreign Minister Grigol Vashadze informed Japan’s Nikkei newspaper on 12 March 2009, ‘If the United States thinks it wants to establish a base, we would seriously consider it’ (McDermott, 2009b). Such a move would undoubtedly prove highly controversial and further militarise an already dangerous region and jeopardise Russian support for supply routes. Eurasian Economic Community (EurAsEC or EvrAzES) An agreement of 14 March 1992 evolved into the Customs Union of 1994, promising free trade between Russia, Kazakhstan, Belarus, and Kyrgyzstan, with Tajikistan joining in January 1999. On 26 February 1999 Belarus, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Russia, and Tajikistan signed a treaty to establish a Customs Union and Single Economic Space, providing the framework for the free movement of goods, capital, services, and people. By contrast with the EU’s Single European Act of 1986, this treaty specified neither a time frame nor created an instrument to push through its objectives. To overcome these problems on 10 October 2000 these same countries signed a treaty strengthening their existing customs union to foster ‘Eurasian economic integration’, and at the Minsk summit in 2001 the Customs Union was transformed into the Eurasian Economic Community (EurAsEC). The aim was to establish a free trade and unified customs system, and to coordinate relations with the World Trade Organisation (WTO). A number of institutions were to promote these goals, including an Interstate Council consisting of the

208 Senseless Dreams and Small Steps

participant countries’ presidents, its highest body, an Integration Committee, a Parliamentary Assembly, and an Arbitration Court, together with a permanent secretariat to service the organisation. A system of weighted votes based on contributions to the common budget was introduced, giving Russia a clear predominance with a 40 per cent share in voting and financial rights, followed by Kazakhstan with 20 per cent, and the rest shared out between the other members. Ukraine and Moldova gained observer status in 2002. In 2005 EurAsEC merged with the Central Asian Cooperation Organisation, created in 2002 and encompassing all of Central Asia except Turkmenistan, one of the few integration efforts in the region that excluded Russia (Kazantsev, 2008, p. 126). At the EurAsEC summit on 25 January 2006 Uzbekistan joined the organisation, underscoring the country’s geopolitical shift towards Russia following the Andijan massacre in May 2005 and the strengthening energy partnership between the two. However, this particular zig did not last long before the next zag: on 12 November 2008 Uzbekistan gave notice that it planned to leave the organisation to pursue what has become known as the ‘Uzbek Path’. Uzbekistan’s erratic course was in part determined by its intense suspicion of any initiative emanating from its arch-rival to the north, Kazakhstan. Uzbekistan rubbished Nazarbaev’s proposal to create a Central Asian Union. Even during its brief membership it did not implement the various measures it signed up to, including on the free movement of EurAsEC nationals and the currencies of members. There were also intense regional rivalries over the use of water resources, including futile attempts by Tashkent to categorise the vital Amu Darya and Syr Darya rivers as transnational resources. Equally, Karimov’s proposal in June 2008 for EurAsEC to merge with CSTO was given short shrift by the other members. The six members of EurAsEC covered 94 per cent of CIS territory, 73 per cent of the population, and 88 per cent of CIS GDP, and their mutual trade rose from $29 billion in 2001 to $94 billion in 2007 (Izvestiya, 31 January 2008). On 25 January 2008 Russia, Belarus, and Kazakhstan signed a tripartite customs union consisting of nine trade agreements covering tariffs, anti-dumping statistics, and taxation issues, with the other three members of EurAsEC (Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan, and Tajikistan) to join as equal members by 2010, although their reluctance to sign the documents suggests a certain hesitation. A number of important issues were to be resolved before a genuine customs union could be established, including the competencies of the planned commission and the rules of membership, especially since the three founding members made no secret of their view that Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan were too undeveloped and poor to join the customs union. As the leading solvent power in the region, despite its own difficulties, Russia had the economic muscle to extend its influence. The economic crisis from 2008 represented an opportunity, in a region where relatively small amounts of capital go a long way. This allowed Russia to extend its economic

Richard Sakwa 209

influence in Ukraine, where it was already the sole energy supplier, largest investor, and major export market, as well as sharing the language of up to half the population. On the same day that the CSTO took practical measures to create a rapid reaction force, the summit of EurAsEC on 4 February 2009 in Moscow agreed to Kazakhstan’s proposal to create an Anti-Crisis Fund of some $10 billion to provide economic assistance to the region. Kazakhstan was to contribute $1 billion, while Russia put some $7.5 billion into the pot. The fund was to be administered by the Eurasian Development Bank, whose task basically was to monitor the shift of resources from EurAsEC’s donor countries to its other members, Belarus, Kyrgyzstan, and Tajikistan, and possibly Armenia as an observer country (Uzbekistan had suspended its membership in November 2008).

Balancing regional organisations The CIS and the CSTO are the two primary regional organisations in the post-Soviet area, with EurAsEC beginning to develop certain stable integrative characteristics. However, all three are perceived to be little more than instruments of Russian hegemony. To counter what are perceived as Russiandominated integration processes, there have been numerous other initiatives. Organisation for Democracy and Economic Development – GUAM Further evidence of the decline of the CIS was the creation in October 1997 of the GUAM group of states (Georgia, Ukraine, Azerbaijan, and Moldova). With the accession of Uzbekistan in April 1999 the group for a time became GUUAM. Their initial concern was to ensure Russian compliance with force limitations within the framework of the CFE Treaty, and more broadly to resist Russian security policy and contain its influence in the post-Soviet region. The anti-hegemonic group was concerned in particular with the various secessionist conflicts and Russian troops on their territories. The long-term aim was to provide mutual support against falling into Russia’s orbit and Russian-dominated bodies like the CSTO and EurAsEC. The development of GU(U)AM acted as a counter-weight to what its members feared were Russia’s hegemonic ambitions within the CIS. At the Yalta summit in June 2001 GUUAM became an organisation with its own secretariat and headquarters, and the charter adopted at that meeting outlined GUUAM’s goals as the development of reciprocal trade, the creation of a free trade zone, and support for energy and other transit routes between Europe and Central Asia bypassing Russia. The top decision-making body was the conference of heads of state, to meet annually in Yalta, the permanent site of GUUAM summits. Ukraine, the main mover behind the organisation, would provide organisational support for the body. Soon afterwards GUUAM was recognised as an international regional organisation, sponsored in particular by the US, which later provided much of the funding.

210 Senseless Dreams and Small Steps

Uzbekistan by early 2000 had clearly cooled towards the body, wanting Russian assistance in its struggle against ‘Islamic extremism’, while Moldova feared antagonising Russia, and its neo-communist government suffered from multiple vulnerabilities. By the time of the organisation’s second summit on 19–20 July 2002, again in Yalta, Karimov stayed away. The meeting went ahead and agreed to rename the organisation the Black Sea-Caspian Initiative, and took further plans to establish a free trade area, now comprising only the four countries. Discussions once again focused on the diversification of pipelines, one of the main raisons d’être of GUAM. Following the Andijan events in May 2005 Uzbekistan formally withdrew. All three ‘colour’ revolutions in post-Soviet Eurasia (Georgia, Ukraine, and Kyrgyzstan) degenerated, but all did so in their own way. As far as Ukraine was concerned, the administration of Leonid Kuchma resulted from a series of pragmatic compromises between various competing groups based on cronyism and heavy-handed political management, but its lack of an ideological basis left it exposed. This was exploited by the orange insurgency and, while the successor Yushchenko regime had a firmly proWestern orientation, it swiftly succumbed to the factionalism and clientelism that has become endemic to Ukrainian politics. Groups competed to take advantage of the few sources of foreign revenues, notably gas transit fees and commodity exports (notably grain after the bumper 2007 harvest). Despite the fact that numerous polls demonstrated that the overwhelming majority of Ukrainians opposed NATO membership, the pro-Western regime insisted that membership was the ‘democratic’ thing to do. Although Prime Minister Yulia Tymoshenko in her second term in office tried to temper open antagonism towards Russia, as part of her campaign strategy as the February 2010 presidential elections approached, the fundamentalist antiRussian posture of the regime remained, a stance that had been encouraged by the George W. Bush Administration. The history of balancing organisations is littered with stillborn initiatives. One of these was the establishment of the Community of Democratic Choice in Kiev, still warmed by the fires of the orange revolution, in December 2005. From the first its aims and terms of reference remained vague. By 2006 this had evolved into the Union of Democratic States, comprising the Baltic republics, Poland, Czech Republic, Slovakia, Hungary, Ukraine, Moldova, Romania, Bulgaria, and Georgia. The contours of a new division of Europe were in place, with only Azerbaijan and Turkmenistan undecided. An enormous new cordon sanitaire, was in the making, to be reinforced by the extension of NATO to these countries. Their conference in Vilnius on 4 May 2006 heard US Vice President Dick Cheney lambast Russia for allegedly using energy as ‘tools of intimidation or blackmail, either by supply manipulation or attempts to monopolise transportation’, and he warned Russia to stop its democratic backsliding (The Guardian, 5 May 2006). The harsh tone of the comments was reminiscent of the Cold War, although

Richard Sakwa 211

their lack of balance or judgement was something new. The commentator Vyacheslav Nikonov warned that ‘Once an escalation like this starts there’s no telling where it will end’ (Moscow Times, 5 May 2006). In his address to the Federal Assembly a few days later on 10 May, Putin enigmatically remarked that ‘The wolf knows whom to eat … and is not about to listen to anyone’, a reference to America’s overbearing manner (www.kremlin.ru). In the event the initiative soon petered out. At the Kiev summit on 23 May 2006 GUAM was formally relaunched as an international organisation, and was once again renamed, this time as the ‘Organisation for Democracy and Economic Development – GUAM’. The Kiev Declaration talked of a common commitment to ‘the creation of a regional space of democracy, security, and stable economic and social development’, reaffirmed the intention to strengthen relations with NATO and the EU, and signed the new organisation’s charter and created a number of new policymaking and executive bodies, including the Council of Heads of State. Membership was to be open to other countries, possibly including Bulgaria and Romania. Yushchenko was elected as the inaugural secretarygeneral, a secretariat was established in Kiev, and its new charter focused on the development of democracy, the rule of law and human rights, and significantly, ‘to cooperate actively in settlement of unresolved conflicts in a number of GUAM states that undermine sovereignty, territorial integrity and independence of those States’ (CEPS Neighbourhood Watch, no. 16, May 2006, p. 8). The summit called for increased cooperation with NATO and the EU, with greater economic cooperation to complement its original focus on security. In particular, reducing dependence on Russian oil and gas became a core aim, together with the development of a free trade zone and customs union. A year later, however, neither Ukraine nor Moldova had ratified the charter. At GUAM’s third summit in Batumi on 1 July 2008 the presidents of the member countries were joined by the president of Poland (Lech Kaczynski) and Lithuania (Valdas Adamkus) as well as observers from 25 other countries and international organisations. The key documents adopted concerned security and energy politics, including the extraordinary idea of creating an international monitoring centre to control the quantity and quality of Russian gas transiting through Ukraine to Europe, an idea about which both Azerbaijan and Moldova had reservations (Nezavisimaya gazeta, 1 July 2008). This was the high point of the anti-Russian front, and in the event GUAM’s plans died in the hills of South Ossetia. America strongly supported the GUAM initiative as part of its strategy of isolating Russia and pushing it out of its traditional sphere of influence in the Caucasus and Central Asia. A type of neo-containment policy was pursued in the former Soviet south while the integration of Moscow into Western institutions was proceeding in the north. Ukraine was a willing accomplice, and indeed instrument, of this strategy. Just as Russia had anti-Western hardliners, the West had those (many of whom were to be found among the

212 Senseless Dreams and Small Steps

neo-conservatives in George W. Bush’s entourage) who insisted that Russia remained a real threat and all should be done to ensure that it never rose to great power status again. Democracy became quite explicitly an instrument in foreign policy strategy. As Dmitry Furman (2006, p. 68) put it, News stories coming out of the [CIS] these days sound like reports from the frontline: Georgia, Ukraine, Moldova and Kyrgyzstan are lost; Adzharia has fallen; Transdniestria (sic) is under siege. … This war is a less menacing continuation of the Cold War that was waged by the West and the Soviet Union for almost half a century, and now entails a smaller space and a different alignment of forces. Obviously the struggle between Russia and the West for Ukraine and Belarus is a direct extension of the struggle between the Soviet Union and the west for Poland, Hungary and Czechoslovakia.

Conclusion The end of the Cold War did not automatically lead to peace and instead new forms of competitive struggle have emerged, which are at their sharpest in post-Soviet Eurasia. It is easy to argue that the fundamental cause of this is Russia’s failure to complete its transition to democracy, and thus the continuing geopolitical struggle in Eurasia is a systemic one between democracy and authoritarianism. While there may be elements of truth in this, the argument is belied by asystemic alliance patterns, with Azerbaijan and Uzbekistan courted by Western powers even though they are not usually considered paragons of democracy. Equally, Russia would no doubt be happy to ally with any power ready to do so (like Armenia), but the imposition of an ideological veneer over what is a brute struggle for influence and resources in the region means that states claiming the democratic moniker are driven to align with the West, while authoritarian states are no less forced to look to Russia, reinforcing negative trends in Russia’s own democratic development. Freedom House in June 2008 noted that ‘Russia has become the leading anti-democratic force in its region’, in part fuelled by energy wealth. The report argued that Putin’s elite had ushered in an era of ‘authoritarian capitalism’ in which an ‘iron triangle’ of state power, industry chiefs, and security services had taken power and consolidated their hold over the electoral process, political opponents, the courts, and the media (Orttung, 2008). Furman (2006, p. 71) notes that as a simple matter of survival ‘managed democracy will cease to exist if Russia is surrounded on all sides by unmanaged democracies’; and by the same token, to strengthen its own security ‘The West has to support the establishment of systems similar to its own.’ The jury remains out on the question posed by Kimitaka Matsuzato (2005, p. 10), namely ‘the extent to which meso-areas are analytic (constructive)

Richard Sakwa 213

or, on the contrary, ontological (really existing)’. This applies equally to meso-regions such as Central Asia and the south Caucasus, as well as to the whole former Soviet mega-region. The various integrative initiatives and their travails raise a number of questions. To what degree do the former Soviet states comprise a recognisable region, and therefore can a single regional order apply to them? Equally, if the dominant process is disintegration, then the main regional dynamic will be the creation of numerous overlapping integrative projects, which may, once they have assumed a sufficiently stable form, come into conflict with each other. If the main model is a straightforward process of decolonisation, then the dynamic reduces to Russia against the rest, with some degree of residual and contingent alignment with Russia (notably Belarus in the first decade of Lukashenko’s leadership, when Russia provided significant political and economic support; and Armenia, faced with a hostile local environment). If we accept this model, then the assumption is that Russia is unable to provide significant regional public goods, and the balancing strategy will predominate. However, hegemonic theory does not assume that the process is a voluntary one, and even involuntary bandwagoning with the hegemon can be accompanied by grudging acceptance that certain public goods (primarily in the fields of security and the economy) can emanate from the central power. None of these models is entirely convincing, and instead we have an area with a strong regional identity but fragmented by competing integrative models, both within the region and externally. The tension between integration and cooperation projects, accompanied by bandwagoning and balancing, looks set to continue.

References Allison, Roy, Stephen White and Margot Light (2005). ‘Belarus Between East and West’, Journal of Communist Studies and Transition Politics, vol. 21, no. 4, pp. 487–511. Ambrosio, Thomas (2009). Authoritarian Backlash: Russian Resistance to Democratization in the Former Soviet Union. Aldershot: Ashgate. Brzezinski, Zbigniew (1997). The Grand Chessboard: American Primacy and Its Geostrategic Imperatives. New York: Basic Books. Buzan, Barry and Ole Wæver (2003). Regions and Powers: The Structure of International Security. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Collins, Kathleen (2009). ‘Economic and Security Regionalism among Patrimonial Authoritarian Regimes: The Case of Central Asia’, Europe–Asia Studies, vol. 61, no. 2, pp. 249–281. ‘Deklaratsiya Moskovskoi Sessii Soveta Kollektivnoi Bezopasnosti ODKB’ (2008). Moscow, 5 September. Available at http://www.kremlin.ru/events/articles/ 2008/08/205859/205904.shtml (accessed 30 April 2009). Furman, Dmitry (2006). ‘A Silent Cold War’, Russia in Global Affairs, vol. 4, no. 2, pp. 68–75. Hagendoorn, Louk,Hub Linssen and Sergei Tumanov (2001). Intergroup Relations in the States of the Former Soviet Union: the Perception of Russians. East Sussex: Psychology Press; Philadelphia: Taylor & Francis.

214 Senseless Dreams and Small Steps Ismailzade, Fariz (2009). ‘Deep Concern in Baku after CSTO News’, The Jamestown Foundation, Eurasia Daily Monitor, vol. 6, no. 28, 11 February. Kazantsev, Andrei (2008). ‘Bol’shaya igra’ s neizvestnymi pravilami: mirovaya politika i tsentral’naya aziya. Moscow: MGIMO-Universitet. Kobrinskaya, Irina (2007). ‘The Post-Soviet Space: From the USSR to the Commonwealth of Independent States and beyond’, in Katlijn Malfliet, Lien Verpoest and Evgeny Vinokurov (eds) The CIS, The EU and Russia. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, pp. 13–21. Lane, David (2008). ‘The Orange Revolution: “People’s Revolution’” or Revolutionary Coup?’, British Journal of Politics & International Relations, vol. 10, no. 4, pp. 525–49. Markedonov, Sergey (2009). ‘Russia’s “Internal South Caucasus”: The Role and Importance of Caucasus Societies for Moscow’, Caucasus Analytical Digest, no. 4, pp. 11–14. Matsuzato, Kimitaka (2005). ‘Preface’, in Kimitaka Matsuzato (ed.) Emerging MesoAreas in the Former Socialist Countries: Histories Revived or Improvised. Sapporo: Slavic Research Center, Hokkaido University. McDermott, Roger N. (2009a). ‘Kant Air Base and Russia’s Strategic Planning in Central Asia’, The Jamestown Foundation, Eurasia Daily Monitor, vol. 6, no. 41, 3 March. McDermott, Roger N. (2009b). ‘Azerbaijan Opening Supply Route to Afghanistan’, The Jamestown Foundation, Eurasia Daily Monitor, vol. 6, no. 51, 17 March. Medvedev, Dmitry (2008). ‘Interv’yu Dmitriya Medvedeva telekanalam “Rossiya”, Pervomu, NTV’, Sochi, 31 August. Available at http://www.kremlin.ru/text/ appears/2008/08/205991.shtml(accessed 30 April 2009). Nygren, Bertil (2008). The Rebuilding of Greater Russia: Putin’s Foreign Policy towards the CIS Countries. Routledge Contemporary Russia and Eastern Europe Series, no. 10. London: Routledge. Orttung, Robert W. (2008). ‘Russia’, Nations in Transit 2008, pp. 577–602. Available at http:// www.freedomhouse.hu/images/fdh_galleries/NIT2008/NT-TOC2.pdf (accessed 30 April 2009). Pivovar, E.I. (2008). Postsovetskoe prostranstvo – al’ternativy integratsii: Istoricheskii ocherk. St Petersburg: Aleteiya. Sagramoso, Domitilla (forthcoming). Russian Imperialism Revisited. London: Routledge. Sakwa, Richard and Mark Webber (1999). ‘The Commonwealth of Independent States, 1991–1998: Stagnation and Survival’, Europe–Asia Studies, vol. 51, no. 3, pp. 379–415. Socor, Vladimir (2009). ‘The CSTO: Missions, Capabilities, Political Ambitions’, The Jamestown Foundation, Eurasia Daily Monitor, vol. 6, no. 25, 6 February. Trofimchuk, G.P. (2007). Russkie shashki (postoronis’, Bzhezinskii). Moscow: ‘Agenstvo Udarnykh Tekhnologii’. Valdez, Jonathan (1995). ‘The Near Abroad, the West, and National Identity in Russian Foreign Policy’, in Adeed Dawisha and Karen Dawisha (eds) The Making of Foreign Policy in Russia and the New States of Eurasia. New York: M.E. Sharpe. Vinokurov, Evgeny (2007). ‘Russian Approaches to Integration in the Post-Soviet Space in the 2000s’, in Katlijn Malfliet, Lien Verpoest and Evgeny Vinokurov (eds) The CIS, The EU and Russia. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, pp. 22–46. Webber, Mark (2002). ‘A Confederation in the Making? Means, Ends and Prospects of the Commonwealth of Independent States’, in Andreas Heinemann-Grüder (ed.) Federalism Doomed? European Federalism between Integration and Separation. New York and Oxford: Bergahn Books, pp. 169–91.

10 The Atlantic Alliance in Eurasia: A Different Player? Alberto Priego

Introduction In 1989 NATO initiated a cooperative approach towards the Warsaw Pact. The Atlantic Alliance considered that democracy and the free market had defeated communism, although the Soviet Union stayed afloat. Just two years later the Soviet Union collapsed, and the Alliance declared its supremacy over the whole Soviet space. Russia started a process in which weakness and confusion were the driving forces of its foreign relations. NATO and Russia cooperated in some important issues, although the Alliance was perceived as a threat by Moscow. The Kremlin was too weak to exert a solid influence in Eurasia and NATO could offer whatever Russia could not do. Russia’s subsequent strategy was very simple: if Moscow promoted instability in the post-Soviet space, as they did in Georgia (August 2008), NATO would never consider the Eurasian space attractive enough to launch cooperative programmes or to enlarge the organisation. This chapter outlines three periods of NATO–Russia relations: 1. The preliminary phase (1991–2001). NATO began to attract some of the former Soviet military allies such as Poland, Hungary or the Czech Republic, and Russia tried to retain its ‘Great Power’ status. During this stage, Central Asia and the Caucasus lived a period of instability with ethnic conflicts, terrorism, territorial disputes etc. 2. The phase of the War on Terror (2001–6). NATO’s priorities over this period were Central Asia and the Caucasus. The emergence of international terrorism and, overall, the War on Terror created an international consensus in which NATO and Russia cooperated: the fruit of this cooperation was the NATO–Russia Council, created in Rome in 2002. 3. The end of the honeymoon (2006 onwards). The American intervention in Iraq provoked a deep division not only within NATO but also in the Western world. Washington was so involved in Iraq that it relaxed its attention on Central Asia and the Caucasus. Under these circumstances 215

216 The Atlantic Alliance in Eurasia

Russia, taking advantage of its enhanced economic situation, launched a revisionist policy the final chapter of which has been its attack to Georgia. All three of these stages have been developed under the same logic: the weaker Russia is, the more it agrees to cooperate, but conversely the stronger Russia is, the more it bids for a revisionist approach in its relations with the West. This dynamic is analysed in the chapter following the three stages described above.

The preliminary phase (1991–2001) With the collapse of the Soviet Union the world became more unstable and unpredictable. The post-Soviet space suddenly turned into a new reality, which was an opportunity for the Western bloc and a challenge for Russia. While Moscow struggled to maintain its position in this new reality, Washington considered that Eastern Europe and the former Soviet Republics were a huge area in which to spread democracy, human rights, and free markets. Under these circumstances the American approach towards the post-Soviet countries was perceived by Russia as a threat, although Washington believed it was an opportunity for dialogue and cooperation (Salomon, 1998, p. 4). Even today Moscow considers that NATO’s attitude hides a genuine antiRussian orientation, as most of the principles embodied by the Alliance – good governance or human rights – contradict the autarchic and patrimonial concept of the state in Russia (Blank, 2006, p. 22). For this reason we can affirm that Moscow has its own concept of the world, which has nothing to do with NATO’s. When Russia cannot exert its influence or, in other words, when Moscow cannot enforce its model, the option is to promote instability in order to deter other actors from trying to promote their model. The fall of the Soviet Union and subsequently the collapse of the Soviet bloc created a new international order in which Russia could not effectively respond to the situation and NATO offered solutions to a group of new republics full of problems. Whereas Russia had nothing to offer, NATO was perceived as a promising club that the new states wanted to join. Russia views itself as a pole in the international system comparable to NATO and, thus, seems to assume that former Soviet republics should rally around Russia. When Russia is not strong enough to attract all these republics, the option is to promote instability on their territories using frozen conflicts, the pipeline network built during the Soviet era or asymmetric bilateral agreements as a means of exercising control or destabilising the local situation. In 1991 NATO started to receive diplomatic missions from the former Warsaw Pact countries. The Alliance members realised that the Soviet enemy had disappeared and decided to create a more institutionalised framework for cooperation with Eastern and Central European countries and, later,

Alberto Priego 217

with the members of the Commonwealth of Independent States (CIS). NATO invited all these former enemies to participate in a new body, the North Atlantic Cooperation Council (NACC). Eastern and Central European countries joined this initiative in December 1991, whereas the CIS members waited until May 1992 (Rivera, 2003, p. 82). Georgia, Armenia, Azerbaijan, and Moldova delayed their membership until June 1992. Not only did Russia accept the invitation to participate in this cooperative initiative, but Yeltsin also declared Moscow’s willingness to join the Alliance. Between 1991 and 1995 Russia was run by a group of liberals who were really committed to democracy, human rights, and free markets, even if the Russian population did not trust NATO. Thus, although Moscow played the leadership role in the CIS, it did not at that time consider the organisation as a mechanism to exert its influence (Paramonov and Strokov, 2008, p. 8). On the contrary, Russia believed that the CIS could help it to dismantle Soviet structures. Nevertheless, the Russian population thought, and continues to think, that NATO is a military alliance without a clear mission apart from an anti-Russian agenda (Polikanov, 2006, p. 94). On the other hand, NATO created a new tool to cooperate with the Central and Eastern European countries and with the members of the CIS, the Partnership for Peace (PfP), an instrument that deserves special attention. In January 1994, in Brussels, the Heads of State and Government addressed an invitation to all the states participating in the NACC and members of the Conference on Security and Cooperation in Europe (CSCE), as well. This initiative was mainly aimed at enhancing security and promoting common values in the Euro-Atlantic area. The level of cooperation would be established between the Alliance and an individual partner according to that partner’s desires and needs. Both parties would sign an agreement called the Individual Partnership Programme (IPP) where they established their priorities. The relations between NATO and its partners could be considered bilateral because the Alliance tried to pay special and individual attention to each one of the PfP countries. Although the PfP is not a prerequisite to achieve NATO’s membership, some of the partners have used the initiative to prepare their candidacy to join the Alliance. In addition to the IPP, NATO created a wide range of practical mechanisms and activities to promote cooperation with the partner states, including the Individual Partnership Action Plan (IPAP), Planning and Review Process (PARP) or the Operation Capabilities Concept (OCC). Concerning NATO–PfP cooperation in Eurasia, the Alliance had to face a different problem related to partners’ suspicions about cooperation between NATO and other partners. At times some partners have believed that the Alliance was giving priority to others. For example, Yerevan has expressed its worries about cooperation between Azerbaijan and NATO. Armenia considers that cooperation between NATO and Baku could alter the status quo in Nagorno-Karabakh.

218 The Atlantic Alliance in Eurasia

NATO enlargement The first serious friction between NATO and Russia arose in 1995, when the Alliance published the ‘Study on NATO Enlargement’ (NATO, 1995). NATO set out two questions on the future of enlargement: ‘why’ and ‘how’. With regard to the first question, why, the Alliance pointed out that, with the end of the Cold War and the dissolution of the Warsaw Pact, Europe needed a unified security framework, without divisions (Whitney, 1995). Most of the Eastern European leaders had declared that NATO was in an excellent position to become the core of the European security order (Asmus, 2002, p. 11). It is essential to understand that Russia did not share this vision, and for this reason Moscow was disappointed with NATO’s drive eastwards. The Kremlin would have preferred a different security architecture in which the Russian Federation played a stronger role. Nevertheless, given its weakness and its limited influence in its former space, the only option Moscow had was to undermine Russia–NATO cooperation. Indeed, NATO’s decision to look east hurried a reaction in Russia: the liberal duo formed by Andrei Kozyrev and Yegor Gaidar was relegated to a secondary place in favour of more aggressive politicians like Viktor Chernomyrdin and Yevgeny Primakov. The official explanation was that NATO was taking advantage of its weakness to enlarge the Alliance, bringing about a feeling of humiliation in Russia (Antonenko and Giegerich, 2009, p. 14). With regard to the second question, ‘how’, the Alliance referred the candidates to the North Atlantic Treaty’s article 10. The candidate should prepare itself to catch up with NATO’s standards to become a member. Once admitted, the new member would enjoy all the rights and should assume all their obligations, including the collective defence clause. When NATO pointed out that all the Euro-Atlantic countries could be candidates, NATO opened the door to a ‘spread of instability’ strategy managed by Russia (Goldgeier, 1999, p. 16). NATO set out that any candidate should settle its ethnic or international disputes before joining the Alliance. Thus, Moscow kept an ace up its sleeve. As long as Russia was not able to offer an alternative security model, it could promote instability in those states interested in joining the alliance. As a result of these factors – NATO’s open door policy and the study on NATO’s enlargement – Moscow began to make NATO’s life difficult. President Yeltsin, supported by the liberal wing, had accepted PfP as an alternative to NATO enlargement (Salomon, 1998, p. 53). It allowed Russia the opportunity to bid for a privileged and distinguished status in the organisation. Nevertheless, the publication of NATO’s study conditioned Russian participation in the PfP, which suddenly became minimal and formal. Moscow moved from the ‘Euro-Atlantic’ approach in its foreign policy to the ‘multipolarity’ policy where Moscow became a pole power and attempted to exert its influence on its close circle of allies (Adamia, 1999).

Alberto Priego 219

Moreover, Polish officials differentiated between PfP-I and PfP-II. While PfP-I should be just a tool to improve the partners’ security situation, PfP-II would mean the first step towards NATO membership (Asmus, 2002, p. 55). Russia was not only relegated to PfP-I, but was also unable to avoid the integration of PfP-II countries into the Alliance. The first round of enlargement was agreed to in 1997 in Madrid (Marquina, 1997, p. 123). Poland, Hungary, and the Czech Republic were invited to join once they could fulfil the commitments requested by the Alliance. The decision on enlargement was itself made without consulting Moscow and consigned Russia to concentrate its efforts on the near abroad. For these reasons the Allies were forced to compensate Russia by offering a privileged relationship established in the Founding Act on Mutual Relations, Cooperation and Security between NATO and the Russian Federation. The agreement also created a consultative body called the Permanent Joint Council (PJC). Finally, Russia obtained what it had been seeking since the demise of the Soviet Union, that is, a privileged relation with NATO, in order to preserve its international status (Polikanov, 2006, p. 97). Nonetheless, in spite of this differentiated relationship, Russia felt itself underestimated by NATO. Thus, the Kremlin adopted a more aggressive strategy in its relations with its near abroad, ‘the Primakov Doctrine’. Former members of the Warsaw Pact, or New Independent States (NIS), needed to choose between two security models (Cornell, 2008, p. 128): 1. The Euro-Atlantic one led by NATO and the US where the key point is internal stability, state-building and close and deep cooperation with the European and Atlantic institutions (EU, NATO, World Trade Organisation (WTO), etc.); Georgia, Azerbaijan, and Uzbekistan among others chose this option, although Russia tried to prevent them from doing so. 2. The Russian model, where Moscow tries to maintain its dominance using its military bases, ‘controlled’ instability and economic coercion to control the area of former Soviet control and influence. Nevertheless, Russia could not solve all the security problems erupting in post-Soviet space, especially in Afghanistan after Kabul fell to the Taliban (Roberts, 2009, p. 30). Armenia, Belarus, and Tajikistan were closer to the Russian model than to the Euro-Atlantic one. In 1997 NATO went further in its cooperation with Central, Eastern European, and the CIS countries, creating a new body to replace NACC, namely the Euro-Atlantic Partnership Council (EAPC). The main difference between NACC and EAPC could be easily perceived in the acronyms: NATO replaced the word ‘Cooperation’ for ‘Partnership’ in an attempt to deepen the relation with its former enemies. On its own Russia played an important role in areas in conflict. On the one hand, Russia has supported secessionist movements in Abkhazia, South

220 The Atlantic Alliance in Eurasia

Ossetia, Nagorno-Karabakh or Trans-Dniester where the main objective was to spread instability over the region to deter NATO from inviting these countries to join the Alliance. On the other hand, Russia was a prominent foreign actor in the Tajik Civil War (Akiner, 2001, p. 45). Official policy regarding the role of Russia in all these conflicts was neutrality, but Russia has intervened directly in these conflicts by siding with one of the parties. This is an alternative model to NATO, in which Russia promotes a degree of controlled instability and economic coercion to deter Washington and Brussels from asserting their influence in these areas (Cornell, 2008, p. 125). The most controversial issue between NATO and Russia during this phase concerned Kosovo. Russia’s strong reaction over Yugoslavia could be explained within the context of decisions of the Washington Summit. In April 1999, just some days before the Kosovo Operation, the North Atlantic Council (NAC) made some important decisions. First, NATO approved a new Strategic Concept that allows NATO to intervene even outside of its traditional area. This element was understood by Russia as a direct threat against its national security. Second, NAC declared that NATO would extend further invitations to willing and able nations to join the alliance. In a way consistent with article 8 of the North Atlantic Treaty, the Washington declaration did not make any distinction between potential members on the basis of their geographical situation –in other words, whether they had belonged or not to the former Soviet Union (Zevelev, 2001, p. 4). Even if everybody had in mind the Baltic States, other republics, like Georgia, Ukraine, and Azerbaijan, turned into potential candidates for membership in NATO. Besides, NATO increased its cooperation with Central Asia and the Caucasus, even though at the end of the 1990s Russia adopted a more aggressive policy towards its near abroad to deter Washington from exerting its influence. Central Asian states were convinced that Russia and the CIS were unable to solve the security problems, that is, Islamic radicalism in Afghanistan or Chechnya, drug trafficking or ethnic conflicts. For this reason Central Asian and Caucasian countries began to seek international help from NATO and the Organisation for Security and Cooperation in Europe (OSCE, formerly CSCE). Concerning Central Asia, in the spirit of NATO’s PfP programme, the Alliance launched an initiative called CENTRASBAT (Central Asia Battalion), which sought to promote cooperation among Central Asian states and NATO. CENTRASBAT consisted of a series of exercises focused on peacekeeping operations developed in a multinational framework. The first exercise was held in 1997 at Fort Bragg (North Carolina) and resulted from a request of Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan, and Kyrgyzstan. Then, CENSTRASBAT spread its reach to Central Asia and incorporated other partners such as Georgia, Azerbaijan and even Russia. During this first phase NATO tried to establish a differentiated relationship with Russia to compensate for its enlargement. Moscow was consigned

Alberto Priego 221

to withdraw from Eastern Europe and project its influence towards Eurasia where Russia promoted a controlled instability to deter the Allied governments from deploying an active presence.

Policy during the War on Terror (2001–6) The second stage started with the 9/11 events. American emphasis on the War on Terror refocused its approach to Central Asia and the Caucasus. Even though the US formally invoked the NATO collective defence clause, article 5, Washington preferred to base its actions on a ‘coalition of the willing’ rather than on the Atlantic Alliance (Park, 2005, p. 3). For this reason NATO increased its political and military presence in Eurasia, which the leadership in Moscow perceived as a direct threat to Russia. If during the first phase Russia was displaced from Eastern Europe to Eurasia, now NATO and the US concentrated their actions in Central Asia and the Caucasus to fight against terrorism. Nevertheless, during this period Russia changed its attitude towards NATO and cooperated with Brussels to achieve its short-term goals. Then, when Russia improved its situation in Central Asia and the Caucasus, Moscow adopted a revisionist foreign policy towards its near abroad that eventually culminated in the Georgia crisis of August 2008. In Central Asia NATO was stuck in Afghanistan and Russia took advantage of this situation and changed the balance of influence in the area. Former Western allies like Uzbekistan and Kyrgyzstan adopted a new foreign policy closer to that of Moscow and Beijing. The Prague Summit In 2002 NATO celebrated its Head of States and Government Summit in Prague, the capital of a former Warsaw Pact state and a new member of NATO. The North Atlantic Council invited seven Eastern European countries (Slovakia, Slovenia, Latvia, Estonia, Lithuania, Bulgaria, and Romania) to join the Alliance. September 11 had drastically transformed NATO–Russia relations and Russia’s view on NATO enlargement. Before the terrorist attack NATO fully concentrated on its eastward enlargement and after that the Alliance centred its focus on Islamic radicalism, proliferation, and terrorism. For its part Russia tolerated this enlargement thanks to the concessions achieved as compensation. First of all, Russia obtained a privileged status at the 2002 Rome Summit when Brussels and Moscow improved the cooperation framework. The Russian– NATO Council was created, so that Russia could maintain a stronger position than any other partner. Russia got a position that allowed it to play the Trojan horse game, something that the USSR did not get in 1954 when Moscow requested to join the Alliance (Polikanov, 2006, p. 94). Thanks to its opposition to NATO’s transformation, the Kremlin achieved an international role that goes beyond its capability.

222 The Atlantic Alliance in Eurasia

NATO launched an interesting initiative concerning the PfP programme, the Individual Partnership Action Plan (IPAP), to deepen cooperation with the Alliance. IPAP set out some aspects where NATO can advise and assist its partners: these are defence, security, science, and civil emergency planning, among others. With regard to Eurasia, IPAP was really well received among the partners and Georgia (2004), Azerbaijan (2005), Armenia (2005), and Kazakhstan (2006) were the first countries to approve their IPAPs. Whereas Azerbaijan and Georgia expressed their desire to become members of NATO, Armenia and Kazakhstan did not. In other words, whereas Georgia and Azerbaijan are using PfP as a tool to prepare their candidacy to join the alliance, other countries like Kazakhstan or Armenia consider that the programme can help them to reform their defence sectors. This fact shows how flexible and useful both IPAP and PfP are. After this second round of NATO enlargement the nature of the PfP changed drastically. The remaining PfP members (neutral European, Central Asian, and Caucasian states) had different security concerns compared to those that acquired NATO membership. The unofficial difference between PfP-I and PfP-II almost disappeared and the programme emerged as a tool to help partners to reform their defence sectors. At the same summit Tajikistan, which had not been a member of the PfP, decided to join the programme. With the Tajik integration all the New Independent States had become members of this cooperative initiative, completing NATO’s presence in Central Asia and the Caucasus. In 2002 NATO signed an agreement with Kyrgyzstan to use Manas airport for Afghanistan’s security operations. Similarly Kazakhstan and Turkmenistan also allowed the US overflight rights for humanitarian purposes. Uzbekistan also agreed to open Khanabad airport for cargo flights to Afghanistan (Buszynski, 2005, p. 547). The Istanbul Summit In June 2004 the NATO Heads of State and Government met in Istanbul. Turkey, which has historical, cultural, and religious ties with Eurasia, hosted what might be called ‘the Eurasian Summit’ in light of the special importance that was accorded to the Caucasus and Central Asia. The North Atlantic Alliance made three important decisions concerning the post-Soviet space: 1. The Heads of States and Governments stressed the special importance of Central Asia and the Caucasus for the Alliance. Eurasia became part of NATO’s agenda and the final communiqué stressed the ‘special focus’ on the region, which means a clear desire to exert NATO’s influence on the area. 2. NATO agreed to improve its institutional presence in Central Asia and the Caucasus with the appointment of two liaison officers at the Almaty headquarters (Weitz, 2006). Their main task is to support implementation of NATO’s cooperation with and assistance towards Central Asia and the Caucasus.

Alberto Priego 223

3. NATO appointed Robert F. Simmons, Jr, as Special Representative for the Caucasus and Central Asia. Mr Simmons is tasked to inform Eurasian people what NATO can offer to Central Asia and the Caucasus and what the Alliance is doing in the region. In October 2004, separate from the agreements reached at the Istanbul Summit, the incoming Secretary General, Jaap De Hoop Schaeffer, and recently appointed Robert F. Simmons paid an official visit to Central Asia (Kyrgyzstan, Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Tajikistan, Turkmenistan) and the Caucasus (Georgia, Armenia, and Azerbaijan). NATO was trying to show how committed it was to the region, but there was a major question to solve. Would Russia allow the Alliance to promote its values in Russia’s near abroad? We can point out at least three factors to explain Russia’s attitude towards NATO’s expansion in Central Asia and the Caucasus. First, as mentioned above, Russia obtained a privileged role with the creation of the Russian–NATO Council in Rome in 2002. Moscow became a pseudo-member of the Alliance, but without the real commitment associated (Polikanov, 2006, p. 94) with NATO membership. In addition, Russia, a Trojan horse inside NATO, received international licence to eradicate terrorism in Chechnya, even though Moscow used some controversial methods to do so. In other words, Russian cooperation with NATO was not taken for granted and many Western countries substantially reduced their criticisms against Russia’s approach to fighting against terrorism in Chechnya. Secondly, after the Prague Summit NATO stopped its enlargement process despite the fact that Georgia, Ukraine, and Azerbaijan had expressed their wish to join the Alliance. None of the countries of Central Asia is especially interested in joining. Most probably, even Kazakhstan, the country that pursues the closest cooperation with NATO, would condition its candidacy to a Russian gesture of agreement (Khidirbekughli, 2003, p. 162). Thus, Russia assumed that NATO’s enlargement process had ended in Prague. Thirdly, Vladimir Putin tried to emulate the Bush Administration’s doctrine to legitimise its foreign policy towards the CIS (Blank, 2006, p. 26). Once Russia strengthened its position in Central Asia and the Caucasus, Putin began a revisionist policy in Russian relations with neighbouring states aimed at reducing their ties with the West, which ended up in a war in post-Soviet space, in Georgia. The first step of this revisionist policy was the creation of the Collective Security Treaty Organisation (CSTO), a sort of upgraded Treaty of Tashkent without the membership of Georgia and Azerbaijan (Abad, 2008a). NATO cooperation with Central Asia and the Caucasus NATO’s enlargement to the Western Balkans brought the Alliance closer geographically to the Caucasus. Without any doubt the most attractive country for NATO is Georgia. This Caucasian country is on the border between

224 The Atlantic Alliance in Eurasia

Europe and Asia, with at least three important regional powers – Turkey, Russia, and Iran – trying to exert their influence in Georgia. The Alliance’s decisions – 1997 and 2002 – to enlarge the organisation encouraged Georgia to act, in order to achieve NATO membership. Although Eduard Shevardnadze had already vowed to lead Georgia towards NATO membership, Mikhail Saakashvili defined Georgia’s integration as his first foreign policy priority. Georgia’s motivation to join the Alliance is to deter Russia from attacking the Caucasian country. Tblisi believes that, if the country gains NATO membership, Georgian–Russian relations will automatically normalise. Nevertheless, the 2008 summer confrontation and Russian invasion made it clear that Moscow will not renounce its hegemony in the southern Caucasus. With regard to Georgia’s cooperation with the Alliance, Tblisi can boast about reaching one of the highest levels of cooperation among the partners. Georgia was the first NATO partner country to sign an IPAP and, in fact, this document inspired two important defence documents: the National Security Strategy and the National Military Strategy. Georgia has been undergoing an important change in the security sector, reforming from a Soviet-style army to a modern one that fulfils NATO’s standards. Apart from that, since 1999 Georgia has developed an active participation in the PfP Planning and Review Process (PARP), modernising its forces to work with NATO. Georgia has hosted some NATO multinational exercises (Cooperative Partner 2001/2002 and Cooperative Archer 2007) and contributed to several NATO peacekeeping and peacemaking missions (Kosovo, Iraq, and Afghanistan) (Priego, 2009a, p. 136). Indeed, Georgia made the largest per capita troop contribution in Iraq. As a reward for its commitment with the Alliance, Georgia was granted an Intensified Dialogue about membership aspirations in September 2006. However, in 2008 Georgia suffered an important setback in its aspirations to join the Alliance. First, the Georgian government hoped to be invited to become a member of NATO at the Bucharest Summit, but the invitation was not offered. Secondly, its candidacy was severely affected by the Russian invasion as it created doubts at NATO Headquarters. Under these circumstances, Georgia has few immediate opportunities of joining the Alliance (Priego, 2008a, p. 53). Most Western European countries perceive Armenia as Moscow’s closest ally in the region. Although Yerevan and Moscow have maintained a strategic relationship, Yerevan is more and more interested in upgrading its ties with NATO and the EU. It is clear that Armenia is willing to cooperate with the Alliance and, thus, in 2006 the Defence Ministry approved the IPAP according to which Yerevan expresses its interest in meeting all NATO standards short of membership. In general, NATO–Armenian cooperation is quite active, and the Armenian army not only participates frequently in NATO military exercises but has also hosted some of them (Tadevosyan, 2006, p. 157). Besides, Armenia decided to dispatch troops to Kosovo to participate

Alberto Priego 225

in KFOR mission in 2003. The main caveat for Armenian–NATO cooperation is not Russia, but Turkey. In fact the conflictive relations between Yerevan and Ankara provoked Robert Kocharian’s refusal to take part in the NATO Istanbul Summit (June 2004). US Ambassador Stanley Escudero once described Azerbaijan as a keystone country (Suleymanov, 2006, p. 179). Azerbaijan joined the PfP initiative in 1994 seeking an ally against Armenia and a partner to counterbalance Russia’s pressure. Concerning NATO’s relations, Baku has been one of the most cooperative partners, not only within the framework of the PfP (Priego, 2008a, p. 56), but also in other matters. It has gone as far as to design and sign its own IPAP in 2004. Azerbaijan accepted 28 Partnership Goals (Masala and Saariluoma, 2006, p. 34), which include the establishment of democratic control of the army, defence planning and budgeting, and the achievement of NATO standards. As Georgia did in 1999 (Priego, 2007, p. 8), Azerbaijan has expressed its desire to join NATO, thus becoming an aspirant in April 2003 (Cornell et al., 2004, p. 26). Nevertheless, despite the efforts made by President Obama to encourage a rapprochement between Armenia and Turkey, the unsettled Nagorno-Karabakh conflict blocks any Azerbaijani candidacy to join the Alliance. In addition to that, if Russia strongly opposes Georgia’s plan to join NATO, the case of Azerbaijan will not be very different. Baku has cooperated steadily with Turkey and the US, taking part in various peacekeeping missions, such as Kosovo and Afghanistan, and also contributing to the fight against terrorism through the Partnership Action Plan on Terrorism (PAP-T). Central Asia, where nobody wants to be a member of the Alliance, presents a very different scenario from that in the Caucasus. Kazakhstan seems to be the most active PfP member. It has got used to cooperating periodically with the Alliance and usually holds NATO activities such as the annual military exercise. For instance, in 2001, the government of Kazakhstan hosted a multinational military exercise in Qapchaghay. In addition to that the Central Asian country is adapting its army and its border troops to NATO standards. In this sense Kazakhstan is also making important efforts to achieve interoperability with NATO’s forces, with KAZBAT and KAZBRIG being two excellent examples. Another important chance for cooperation is in the scientific area. In this field, Kazakhstan is also participating in NATO’s Virtual Silk Highway project, a technological network to provide Internet access to academics living in Central Asia and the Caucasus. In the spring of 2002 the Ministry of Science and Education organised a meeting on financial issues in Almaty (NATO, 2007). The same year Kazakhstan began to participate in the Planning and Review Process (PARP) under the framework of the PfP and has proceeded to an annual review as well. Kazakhstan is trying to share its PARP experience with its Central Asian partners. Astana is also working on the establishment of a PfP Training and Education Centre to provide language

226 The Atlantic Alliance in Eurasia

courses and military training for Central Asian officers (NATO, 2007). We should not forget another fundamental issue in Kazakh–NATO cooperation: Afghanistan. Astana has not only expressed its interest in supporting one of ISAF’s PRT, but has also sponsored a US $3 million package for investments, agricultural aid, and infrastructure building. In addition, a NATO information centre has been opened in Almaty with the purpose of improving relations between NATO and Central Asia. Uzbekistan seems to be the major regional competitor for Kazakhstan. Until the Andijan incidents in 2005 Uzbekistan was one of the most important and active Central Asian partners. Thus, Uzbekistan was the first to reach an IPP agreement and one of the first participants in the PARP programme. Additionally, Uzbekistan became a key country for ISAF, permitting Germany to use its Termez facilities and allowing the Allied forces to overfly its territory. Also, in April 2003, Uzbekistan hosted the first EAPC exercise ever held in Central Asia – Ferghana, 2003 – a simulation of an earthquake. Unfortunately, the Uzbek Government disagreed with NATO’s SecretaryGeneral’s call for an independent investigation into the events in Andijan. Thereinafter most of the Uzbek–NATO cooperation was frozen. Currently the Government of Uzbekistan and NATO have resumed their cooperation, and Uzbekistan is recovering its important position in the Alliance’s cooperation with Central Asian partners. Kyrgyzstan is an important partner for the Alliance, not only because it hosted NATO at the Manas air base, over which there was so much political debate in spring 2009 before the Kyrgyz government renewed the lease,1 but also because of its regional importance. NATO and the Kyrgyz Republic cooperate using the IPP’s guidelines approved in the framework of the PfP. In 2007, Kyrgyzstan joined the PARP to improve its interoperability with the Allies, which, in turn, should enhance the ability of the Central Asian country to take part in NATO peacekeeping operations. Tajikistan is a very complex country. Owing to the consequence of the civil war, NATO cooperation with Tajikistan remains the least developed with a Central Asian country. Thus, Tajikistan was the last CIS country to join PfP and the pace of developing relations is slower than with any other partner. Nevertheless, Tajikistan is a key actor in NATO’s mission in Afghanistan. For this reason Dushanbe and Brussels have signed a transit agreement in support of the NATO–ISAF operations in Afghanistan. Apart from that, Tajikistan is also involved in other cooperative programmes such as NATO’s Science for Peace and Security (SPS) and NATO’s Public Diplomacy Division, which help Tajikistan to organise a Summer School Academy in Dushanbe every year. Turkmenistan is probably the most reluctant Central Asian country to cooperate with NATO. Turkmenistan has also been a captive to President Niyazov’s policy of false neutrality and isolation. In spite of that, in 1994 Ashgabat signed a PfP agreement, but so far Turkmenistan has not yet approved the IPAP. During the Turkmenbashi period, Turkmenistan hardly

Alberto Priego 227

ever cooperated with the Alliance with the exception of counter-narcotics training and some courses at the NATO School (Oberammergau). After the death of Niyazov, the case of Turkmenistan has changed considerably. The new President Berdymukhamedov maintains a more cooperative attitude towards the Alliance. This is exemplified by his attendance at the NATO Summit in Bucharest (Masala and Saariluoma, 2006, p. 34). However, in the meantime, Russia also extended its military presence in Central Asia with the establishment of a military base in Kant (Kyrgyzstan) close to the NATO base. Thus, the existence of two military bases belonging to NATO and CSTO put an important strain on the internal situation of Kyrgyzstan. It would be Russia that most skilfully would take advantage of this cooperative environment. It did so following a dual strategy: in those cases where Russia enjoyed a strong position Moscow deepened its relations through the signing of defence agreements or the establishment of military bases. On the contrary, in those places where NATO remained in a stronger position or, in other words, where the Russian presence was weaker – Georgia or Uzbekistan – Russia has tried to promote controlled instability to isolate such countries. Thus, Russia tried to apply an aggressive policy to deter NATO from exerting its influence. This is the beginning of a revisionist policy, which we can witness even today. Over the period from February 2005 to December 2006 three events dramatically changed the situation in Central Asia, shifting from a US–Russia balance of power to an unbalanced situation. NATO and the US have suffered a retreat in their plan to project their influence in Eurasia, and China has appeared as a Russian ally to counterbalance Western influence. Kyrgyzstan was the first Central Asian country to change its pro-Western foreign policy for a pro-Eastern one. In 2005 the opposition started to accuse President Akayev of corruption in the management of the contracts signed with the US military at Manas. In particular, they targeted Akayev’s sons, Bermet and Aidar, who had become wealthy very quickly. On 27 February 2005, protests were unleashed after the parliamentary elections in which the opposition obtained very poor results. Serious riots erupted in southern Kyrgyzstan and reached Bishkek within a few days. President Akayev decided to flee to Moscow after being surrounded at the Presidential Palace and abandoned by its personal guards. Prime Minister Bakiyev assumed the presidency and just a few months later won the general election in July, supporting a very anti-Western policy. In fact, his first post-electoral speech was to announce that Kyrgyzstan should review the presence of American troops in the country (Rashid, 2008, p. 340). However, as briefly pointed out earlier, the real turning point in NATO cooperation with Central Asian states came about in 2005 with the Andijan issue. Uzbekistan, which could be considered the regional leader, had been the closest NATO ally in Central Asia. Nevertheless, when Washington questioned Tashkent’s respect of human rights, President Karimov changed his

228 The Atlantic Alliance in Eurasia

foreign policy, adopting an approach oriented more closely to Russia and China (Abad, 2008a). Indeed, before the Andijan events Washington had already asked Tashkent to solve its human rights problems. But, much to the contrary, the Uzbek government issued a law restricting the freedom of the Western media and non-governmental organisations (NGOs) working in the country. On 13 May 2005, armed men allegedly burst into the Andijan town jail to liberate 20 or 30 of Akram Yuldashev’s followers (Akiner, 2005, p. 17). Suddenly, the demonstrators took control of Andijan and demanded an audience with President Karimov who, without hesitation, sent the Uzbek security forces in response. These forces opened fire against the crowd, provoking an undetermined number of deaths. Two days later, Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice condemned the extreme violence (Donovan, 2005). Immediately Tashkent reduced its cooperative links with Washington, suspending night flights, and President Karimov asked the US to recall its troops from Khanabad. On the other hand, China and Russia supported President Karimov, inviting him to visit both countries. So, under these circumstances Uzbekistan decided to withdraw from the GUUAM (Georgia, Ukraine, Uzbekistan, and Moldova) and join the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation (SCO) and CSTO. Indeed, Tashkent has increased its bilateral cooperation with Russia, signing a military pact in November 2005 that allows Russia to establish a military base in Uzbekistan (Radyuhin, 2005). The third change took place in Turkmenistan when the eccentric and authoritarian President Niyazov died of a heart attack in December 2006. His successor, Gurbanguly Berdymukhamedov, has started a new era in Turkmenistan in which Russia seems to have a more important role. Nevertheless, as mentioned earlier, Turkmenistan is trying to play a balanced game between Russia and NATO, and the new president has increased cooperation with the Alliance. The second phase in NATO relations with the countries of Central Asia, which had started with a weak and cooperative Russia, ended with a stronger and revisionist Russia that seemed to be even less cooperative than it had been during the first and the second stages. This was just the beginning of a new era of relations between Russia and NATO.

Phase three: The end of the honeymoon (2006 and beyond) As mentioned above, taking advantage of the international situation and its enhanced economic situation, Russia launched a revisionist policy in Central Asia and the Caucasus. NATO was stuck and deeply divided by issues like Afghanistan and Iraq. The Alliance seems unable to reach a stable consensus over the policy that it should follow in Afghanistan. The US thought it could deal with the situation, although after the US invasion of Iraq most

Alberto Priego 229

allies did not want to be involved in another endless war. So, after the Iraqi adventure NATO was paralysed because of the American attitude towards the organisation. In addition, the high price of energy allowed Russia to be more aggressive and to modernise its army. Moscow realised that by recovering its position in the post-Soviet area it could strengthen its international position. This new pragmatic and flexible Russian approach was more compatible with Central Asian sensibilities than that of the Americans or the Europeans. In this sense, neither Russia nor China criticise human rights abuses, as do the European Union or the US. For this reason Central Asian states are more comfortable dealing with Moscow or Beijing than they are with Brussels, Washington or Paris. Whereas the SCO described Andijan as an antiterrorist operation, the EU and NATO called for an independent investigation to clarify what really happened in that Uzbek town (Alexandroni, 2007, p. 14). Afghanistan In this new phase of NATO–Central Asian relations the main problem is Afghanistan, which has always been a difficult environment for military operations and is widely viewed as a test for the Atlantic Alliance. During the Cold War NATO avoided any involvement in conflicts of this kind, which are out of the Euro-Atlantic area, but the emergence of international terrorism forced the Alliance to play an important role in Afghanistan. When Washington initially rejected NATO’s assistance, despite the organisation’s invoking article 5, most European allies felt disappointed with the US attitude. In any case NATO had to wait until August 2003 to have direct involvement in Afghanistan, as the Alliance took command of the International Stabilisation Assistance Force (ISAF). The Alliance extended the mission beyond Kabul in a four-phase expansion strategy: 1. ISAF stage 1: In June 2004 ISAF began its deployment in northern Afghanistan and established its headquarters in Mazar-e-Sharif. The predominant troops were French and German. 2. ISAF stage 2: In September 2004 NATO deployed its troops to western Afghanistan including Herat. In addition, the Alliance started to set up the Provincial Reconstruction Teams (PRT). 3. ISAF stage 3: In July 2006, the Alliance assumed command in six southern Afghan provinces, establishing its headquarters in Kandahar. This is the most dangerous area because the region borders the Taliban-controlled areas of Pakistan and is also the birthplace of the Taliban. 4. ISAF stage 4: In October 2006 NATO extended its command to eastern Afghanistan, the last area under US control since the Taliban were ousted in 2001. At this point, NATO took control of the whole territory of Afghanistan and ISAF absorbed Operation Enduring Freedom (OEF).

230 The Atlantic Alliance in Eurasia

Although the implementation of ISAF stages 3 and 4 sought to bring stability to the southern part of Afganistan, it deepened NATO divisions. Indeed, in December 2005 the Department of Defence decided to pull out 3,000 troops from the south and the rest of the Allies did not want to make any additional contribution to the mission (Rashid, 2008, p. 352). The geographic areas covered in these two extensions are the most dangerous in Afghanistan because they border Pakistan where the Taliban and al-Qaeda have in effect been able to regroup (Priego, 2008b, p. 95). Most of the Western allies, especially Canada and the Netherlands, were deeply concerned about Afghanistan’s potential to become another Iraq. Public opinion in those countries would not permit the escalation of commitment in what threatened to become ‘a second war’, even if Afghanistan counted on the authorisation of the United Nations Security Council. The US was strongly criticised because of the Operation Enduring Freedom (OEF). When the British army took control of Helmand they realised that between 2002 and 2005 the US army had not monitored the Pakistan– Afghanistan border (Rashid, 2008, p. 358). For this reason NATO allies were reluctant to send troops to dangerous areas such as Helmand, Kandahar, Uruzgan or Nangarhar, thereby creating a crisis of commitment apparently resolved only with the arrival of the Obama Administration. At the same time NATO’s unwillingness to suffer casualties leads to a vicious circle. Once NATO has recaptured territories from the Taliban, it finds serious difficulties in holding those areas (Berdal and Ucko, 2009, p. 56). Insufficient numbers of ground troops require the use of airpower against insurgents, with a resulting increase of civilian casualties and the consequent unpopularity of the Alliance among the Afghans (Smith and Williams, 2008, p. 3). In the meantime Russia kept on defending its interests in Central Asia and the Caucasus. Thus, the Russian attitude towards Afghanistan can be compared to that of a free rider. Even though the origins of the current problems stem from the USSR’s invasion of Afghanistan in 1979, the Kremlin has not helped NATO to resolve the situation. Moscow could contribute to NATO’s effort to stabilise Afghanistan by offering lessons learned during the Soviet occupation. But, on the contrary, Russia has taken advantage of the NATO stalemate in Afghanistan to achieve some of its goals in the region. So, the Kremlin offered some incentives to Kyrgyzstan in its failed effort to encourage the latter to expel NATO from the Manas military base. Russia wants to reinforce its presence in Central Asia, or at least to hasten the US withdrawal from the region. Russia would prefer a Central Asia with an important Chinese presence rather than maintaining a competition with NATO and the US. Indeed, the most important Russian task is to create a complicated environment for the Alliance, promoting other alternatives to NATO like the SCO or CSTO. And what about Afghanistan? NATO’s mission in Afghanistan is seen as a crucial test of its capacity to undertake complex missions in distant areas (Rummer and Stent, 2009, p. 100).

Alberto Priego 231

This mission is likely to become important for the transformation of NATO. For this reason Russia is not endorsing the Alliance as much as it could, and the Kremlin tries to undermine NATO’s international credibility. However, instability could easily spill over to the Russian sphere through Central Asia, provoking serious security problems: for instance, drug-trafficking coming from Afghanistan, which is already happening. About 0.9 per cent of the Russian population was estimated to be abusing opiates (Priego, 2008b, p. 67). ISAF was initially envisioned as a peacekeeping mission but its mandate included combat against resurgent Taliban in the south. Although ISAF expansion is contributing to enhancing the security situation, it seems that China and Russia have increased fears of encirclement and both states have started to cooperate to change the situation. In 2007, in Dushanbe, the CSTO and the SCO signed an agreement to form a political and military bloc against NATO influence in the region (Abad, 2008a). With this agreement both organisations could hold joint military exercises in the future under the coordination of Russia, which is a member of both organisations. The Bucharest Summit In general Afghanistan may be considered to have been the key issue at the NATO Bucharest Summit, although Kosovo’s independence was also included on the agenda of the summit (Blank, 2009, p. 208). All the Allies declared their commitment to the International Security Assistance Force (ISAF) and the summit communiqué described Afghanistan as ‘our top priority’. In this vein, on 3 April NATO approved a guiding document on Afghanistan entitled ‘Strategic Vision’ in which the Alliance made four principal points to improve the security situation in Afghanistan. First, the Allies promised a long-term commitment to Afghanistan that would limit the political or constitutional restrictions on the deployment of troops in Afghanistan. Some allies criticised Germany because it deployed an important contingent in a relatively safe area (ISAF 1), whereas it was suggested it send some troops to southern Afghanistan to combat the Taliban. Second, NATO needs to improve the country’s governance. Some allied governments believe that good governance is even more important to stabilise Afghanistan than the counter-insurgency. Third, a comprehensive approach to integrating civil and military efforts must be put in place. The best example of civil–military cooperation is the Provincial Reconstruction Teams (PRTs), which were designed to promote central government authority into the rural areas. And finally, there should be an increased engagement with Afghanistan’s neighbours, including Pakistan (Morelli and Belkin, 2009, p. 2). Pakistan is at the core of the problem, as well as a key player to overcome this difficult situation. Both Afghanistan and Pakistan are affected by the same security problems of drug trafficking, arms smuggling, and Islamic radicalism (Priego, 2008b, p. 65), so NATO should apply the same policy to

232 The Atlantic Alliance in Eurasia

both countries. The current government of Pakistan is making an effort to fight against these new threats. Concerning cooperation between NATO and the NIS, NATO appreciated the Russian offer to allow the Alliance to deliver non-lethal goods to Afghanistan through its territory (Weitz, 2008, p. 10). Although NATO has expressed its gratitude to Russia for supporting ISAF, Moscow should be more involved in solving a problem created by the Soviet Union. Indeed, taking into account that Russia is suffering the effects of the narcotics coming from Afghanistan, which has become the main world producer, Moscow should have offered a deeper commitment to stabilising the country. The main problem is that the Kremlin is not prepared to accept any significant NATO–American presence in Central Asia and the Caucasus. Taking into account the difficult situation of Pakistan, Central Asian partners presented themselves as an alternative to the southern supply route. Again, Uzbekistan allows US troops to use the strategic Termez base and its corridor for supplying NATO in Afghanistan (Williams, 2008). This agreement amounts to a kind of reconciliation between Tashkent and Washington after the Andijan clash. At the Bucharest summit the issue that proved most controversial was the possible NATO enlargement towards Ukraine and Georgia, especially after Kosovo declared its independence. As occurred with the issues of Iraq and Afghanistan, the Alliance was again deeply divided over a new possible enlargement towards Georgia and Ukraine. On the one hand, the UK, the US and most of the Eastern allies favoured the enlargement of NATO. On the other hand, France, Germany, Spain, Italy, and Greece opposed the two candidacies despite their achievements. Behind this division was Russia and its economic and political influence in Europe, as many allies are dependent on its energy supplies. The Georgian crisis As a consequence of this lack of consensus within the Alliance, Russia tried to enhance its international status by attacking the most prospective NATO candidate, Georgia. Moscow considered that NATO had questioned its historical role in the Balkans by accepting Kosovo as an independent state. For this reason, Moscow sought to restore its rights over the post-Soviet space. According to President Medvedev, this area should be a zone of Russian privileged interests (Antonenko and Giegerich, 2009, p. 14). What Medvedev and Putin have tried to do is to make clear to the international community that Russia is back as the dominant regional actor. Moscow legitimised its action in Georgia on the basis of an earlier precedent, namely Kosovo, where an outside power intervened in spite of questionable international legality, and justified its intervention by saying that it sought to avoid the genocide of the Ossetian people. However, there were three main differences between the Kosovo and South Ossetia cases.

Alberto Priego 233

First, the Kosovo campaign was preceded by a period of talks in order to avoid the use of force against Serbia and, in the case of South Ossetia, Russia did not try to settle the conflict by peaceful means. Second, NATO’s 1999 intervention destroyed almost all important infrastructure, but in the case of Georgia, Russia not only exerted a higher level of violence against bridges or airports but also against the civilian population (King, 2008, p. 10). Third, the Kosovo operation was undertaken by an international organisation, NATO, whose members are committed to democracy and human rights. It fact, once the aerial campaign was finished NATO cooperated with the international community, including Russia, to promote a democratic government in Kosovo. On the contrary, not only has Russia not made any effort to build democratic institutions, but also the Kremlin has legitimised a corrupt political class in Abkhazia and South Ossetia (King, 2008, p. 8). The crisis in Georgia has deepened the traditional mistrust between Moscow and NATO. The Alliance suspended all cooperation with Russia, whereas the Kremlin hardened its position on NATO enlargement, the CFE Treaty (Conventional Forces in Europe), and the missile defence system. To cite Oksana Antonenko (2008), the war between Russia and Georgia had no winners. Mikhail Saakashvili damaged Georgia’s international image, making a miscalculated decision. In the future Georgia and Ukraine will face serious difficulties in their efforts to join the Alliance because most of the members do not want to sacrifice their relations with Moscow. Russia hoped to find the support of its closest allies but the Kremlin failed to gain any reasonable international support. Only Nicaragua and Cuba have recognised South Ossetia and Abkhazia as independent states. With regard to NATO, apart from suspending its cooperation with Russia, it did not take any important decisions and it could likely be perceived as a paper tiger unable to control the Euro-Atlantic area. On the contrary, the EU under the French Presidency played an important role mediating in the ceasefire and contributing with observers to extinguish Georgian–Russian tension (Popescu et al., 2009, p. 2).

Conclusion: The Obama administration – a glimmer of hope The Afghanistan problem will remain President Obama’s top priority, although it requires a long-term approach. Despite all the difficulties encountered in Afghanistan since the American intervention, candidate Barack Obama promised to increase the US commitment to Afghanistan. The new approach was based on the assumption that the Afghan problem can be addressed neither by a single state nor in isolation. During the spring 2009 NATO summit held in both Strasbourg (France) and Kehl (Germany), President Obama, who has committed 17,000 additional military troops, hailed the strong and unanimous support from their allies and welcomed their promises of 5,000 soldiers to train the Afghan army and provide

234 The Atlantic Alliance in Eurasia

protection for the upcoming elections (Priego, 2009b). This agreement is a step forward in the Alliance, since the Bush Administration pressed the allies for more troops to Afghanistan, but obtained a minimal response. Unfortunately, most of the European allies considered that at the beginning of the Afghan campaign Washington and London believed that they could face the challenge without the help of the rest of NATO’s allies (Roberts, 2009, p. 50). In addition, regional cooperation will be crucial to solve this security problem, which is undermining NATO’s credibility. Although many neighbours appear to play an important role in the stabilisation of Afghanistan, Pakistan seems to be the crucial country in order to get a definitive settlement. Nevertheless, Pakistan is experiencing a very chaotic situation. Zardari’s government hardly controls portions of the country and some areas, like the North Western Frontier Province, are in the hands of the radicals. For this reason, NATO does not want to depend on Pakistan for its supply routes to Afghanistan. The Alliance needs supplementary routes to Afghanistan, and for this reason NATO has agreed to involve other neighbouring countries. NATO and the US considered Russia a non-significant factor in Afghanistan because it is known that Russia has almost nothing to offer in dealing with this issue, except for the air supply route that goes from Germany to northern Afghanistan across Russia. However, Moscow’s attitude towards the Obama Administration is much more positive than the one it maintained towards the Bush Administration. Cooperative political gestures, such as Vice President Joe Biden’s holding out his hand to Russia and offering a stronger commitment against drugtrafficking, may help Russia to assume a more important role in Afghanistan. Likewise, Central Asian countries are expected to play an important role in this new approach, even if Russia does not feel at ease with such cooperation between the Alliance and the Central Asian partners. Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan, Tajikistan, and Turkmenistan appear to be alternatives to supplement Pakistan, which alone cannot provide security for NATO supply convoys (Williams, 2008). All these states are in need of foreign investment, which would help them to compensate for the economic recession, and cooperation with NATO and the US would also allow them to counterbalance Russian presence in Central Asia (Blank, 2009). In conclusion, we could say that since the end of the Cold War NATO and Russia have maintained a difficult relationship. The Atlantic Alliance wants to promote democracy and free markets throughout the former Soviet space, whereas Russia considers that this influence amounts to a real threat against its national interests. Russia is not strong enough to exert its influence in the area it considers its ‘near abroad’, and for this reason the Kremlin prefers to spread instability over Eurasia rather than allow NATO to control the zone. On its own NATO has not renounced spreading its values throughout the Caucasus and Central Asia by helping

Alberto Priego 235

countries such as Georgia or Ukraine to become members of NATO. This clash of interests will put strains on the relations between NATO and Russia in the years ahead.

Note 1. Both Russia and China put pressure on Bishkek to close the Manas military base (Abad, 2008b) in order to reduce American influence in Central Asia. In the end the Kyrgyz Government decided to renew the lease in return for a much higher rental payment from the US.

References Abad, Gracia (2008a). ‘Las Organizaciones Internacionales y la seguridad en Asia Central’, Real Instituto Elcano-Observatorio de Asia Central, ARI 107/2008, 17 September. Available at http://www.realinstitutoelcano.org/wps/portal/rielcano/contenido? WCM_GLOBAL_CONTEXT=/Elcano_es/Zonas_es/Organismos+Internacionales/ ARI107-2008 (accessed 5 July 2010). Abad, Gracia (2008b). ‘La Organización de Cooperación de Shanghai o la penetración China en Asia Central’, Real Instituto Elcano-Observatorio de Asia Central, ARI 30/2008, 18 March. Available at http://www.realinstitutoelcano.org/wps/portal/ rielcano/contenido?WCM_GLOBAL_CONTEXT=/Elcano_es/Zonas_es/ Asia-Pacifico/ARI30-2008 (accessed 5 July 2010). Adamia, Revaz (1999). ‘NATO: Caucasus in the Context of Partnership for Peace’, Perceptions. Journal of International Affairs, vol. IV, no. 1, March–May. Akiner, Shirin (2001). Tajikistan: Disintegration or Reconciliation? London: Royal Institute of International Affairs. Akiner, Shirin (2005). Violence in Andijan, 13 May 2005: An Independent Assessment. Uppsala/Washington, DC: Central Asia–Caucasus Institute. Alexandroni, Sam (2007). ‘Nato’s Rival in the East’, New Statesman, 20 August. Antonenko, Oksana (2008). ‘A War with No Winners’, Survival, vol. 50, no. 5, October–November. Antonenko, Oksana and Bastian Giegerich (2009). ‘Rebooting NATO–Russia Relations’, Survival, vol. 51, no. 1, February–March. Asmus, Ronald (2002). Opening NATO’s Door. How the Alliance Remade Itself for a New Era. New York: Columbia University Press. Berdal, Mats and David Ucko (2009). ‘NATO at 60’, Survival, vol. 51, no. 1, February– March. Blank, Stephen (2006). The NATO–Russia Partnership: A Marriage of Convenience or a Troubled Relationship? Carlisle, PA: Strategic Studies Institute. Blank, Stephen (2009). ‘Afghanistan: Examining the Implications of a Central Asian Supply Line for Afghanistan’, Eurasia Insight, 22 January. Buszynski, Leszek (2005). ‘Russia’s New Role in Central Asia’, Asian Survey, vol. 45, issue 4, August. Cornell, Svante (2004). ‘NATO After Enlargement: PfP Shift Emphasis to Central Asia and the Caucaus’, NIASnytt, no. 2. Cornell, Svante (2008). ‘NATO’s Role in South Caucasus Regional Security’, Turkish Policy Quarterly, Winter. Available at http://www.turkishpolicy.com/images/ stories/2004-02-globalsecurity/TPQ2004-2-cornell.pdf (accessed 5 July 2010).

236 The Atlantic Alliance in Eurasia Cornell, Svante, Roger N. MacDermott, William D. O’Malley, Vladimir Socor and Frederick S. Starr (2004). Regional Security in the South Caucasus: The Role of NATO. Uppsala/Washington, DC: Central Asia–Caucasus Institute. Donovan, Jeffrey (2005). ‘Uzbekistan: UN, EU Call for International Probe Into Violence’, RFE/RL, 16 May. Available at http://www.rferl.org/content/ article/1058942.html (accessed 5 July 2010). Goldgeier, James M. (1999). Not Whether but When: The US Decision to Enlarge NATO. Washington, DC: Brookings Institution Press. Khidirbekughli, Doulatbek (2003). ‘U.S. Geostrategy in Central Asia: A Kazakh Perspective’, Comparative Strategy, no. 22. King, Charles (2008). ‘The Five-Day War: Managing Moscow after the Georgia Crisis’, Foreign Affairs, November/December. Marquina, Antonio (1997). La Cumbre de Madrid y el futuro de la Alianza. Madrid: UNISCI. Masala, Carlo and Saariluoma (2006). Renewing NATO’s Partnership: Towards a Coherent and Efficient Framework. Forum Paper, NATO Defence College, Rome, May. NATO (1995). ‘Study on NATO Enlargement’. Available at http://www.nato.int/docu/ basictxt/enl-9501.htm (accessed 5 July 2010). NATO (2007). ‘Partners in Central Asia’, NATO Background, November. Available at http://www.nato.int/ebookshop/backgrounder/partners_central_asia/partners_ central_asia-e.pdf (accessed 5 July 2010). Paramonov, Vladimir and Aleksey Strokov (2008). ‘The Evolution of Russia’s Central Asia Policy’, Advanced Research and Assessment Group (Central Asian Series), 8/21, June. Available at www.da.mod.uk/colleges/arag/document-listings/ ca/08(21)Vp%20English.pdf (accessed 5 July 2010). Park, John (2005). ‘Maintaining NATO’, Harvard International Review, vol. XXVII, no. 1, Spring. Polikanov, Dmitry (2006). ‘Nato–Russia Relations: Present and Future’, in Martin Smith (ed.) Where is NATO Going? Abingdon: Routledge. Popescu, Nicu, Mark Leonard and Andrew Wilson (2009). ‘Can the EU Win the Peace in Georgia?’, European Council on Foreign Relations-Brief Policy, August. Available at http://ecfr.3cdn.net/1e6b7889919245f47d_fem6bh1rd.pdf (accessed 5 June 2010). Priego, Alberto (2007). ‘The Emergence of Southern Caucasus as the Cornerstone in the Greater Middle East’, Revista Eletrónica Estudios Internacionales, January, no. 13. Available at http://www.reei.org/reei%2013/A.Priego(reei13).pdf (accessed 5 June 2010). Priego, Alberto (2008a). ‘NATO Cooperation towards South Caucasus’, Caucasian Review of International Affairs, vol. 2, no. 1, Winter. Available at http://cria-online.org/ Journal/2/NATO%20cooperation%20towards%20Southern%20Caucasus%20by%20 Alberto%20Priego_done.pdf (accessed 5 June 2010). Priego, Alberto (2008b). ‘Pakistan between Central and South RSC’, Central Asia and the Caucasus. Journal of Social and Political Studies, vol. 54, no. 6. Priego, Alberto (2009a). El Cáucaso: del fin de la URSS a la Revolución de la Rosa. Madrid: UNISCI. Priego, Alberto (2009b). ‘Obama y Afganistán: I have a plan’, El País. 8 April. Available at http://www.elpais.com/articulo/opinion/Obama/Afganistan/I/have/ plan/elpepiopi/20090408elpepiopi_12/Tes/ (accessed 5 July 2010). Radyuhin, Vladimir (2005). ‘Russia, Uzbekistan Sign Defence Pact’, The Hindu, 16 November. Available at http://www.hindu.com/2005/11/16/stories/2005111606001400.htm (accessed 5 July 2010). Rashid, Ahmed (2008). Descent into Chaos: How the War against Islamic Extremism is Being Lost in Pakistan, Afghanistan and Central Asia. London: Penguin Books.

Alberto Priego 237 Rivera, David W. (2003). ‘Engagement, Containment and International Politics of Eurasia’, Political Science Quarterly, vol. 118, no. 1. Roberts, Adam (2009). ‘Doctrine and Reality in Afghanistan’, Survival, vol. 51, no. 1, February–March. Rummer, Eugene and Angela Stent (2009). ‘Russia and the West’, Survival, vol. 51, no. 1, February–March. Smith, Julianne and Michael Williams (2008). ‘What Lies Beneath: The Future of NATO through the ISAF Prism’, RUSI/CSIS, 31 March. Suleymanov, Elin (2006). ‘Azerbaijan: The Wider Black Sea’s Caspian Keystone’, in Ronald Asmus (ed.) Next Steps in Forging a EuroAtlantic Strategy for the Wider Black Sea. Washington, DC: GMFUS. Tadevosyan, Ara (2006). ‘Armenia – Between the Wider Black Sea Region and the Greater Middle East’, in Ronald Asmus (ed.) Next Steps in Forging a EuroAtlantic Strategy for the Wider Black Sea. Washington, DC: GMFUS. Weitz, Richard (2006). ‘Renewing Central Asian Partnerships’, NATO Review, Autumn. Available at http://www.nato.int/docu/review/2006/issue3/english/analysis2.html (accessed 5 July 2010). Weitz, Richard (2008). ‘Post-Bucharest: NATO’s Prospects in Afghanistan’, Central Asia– Caucasus Analyst, 16 April. Available at http://www.cacianalyst.org/?q=node/4837 (accessed 5 July 2010). Whitney, Craig R. (1995). ‘Nato’s Present Plans to Expand Alliance’, The New York Times, 29 September. Available at http://www.nytimes.com/1995/09/29/world/ nato-presents-plan-to-expand-alliance.html (accessed 5 July 2010). Williams, Michael (2008). ‘Nato’s Supply Demands’, Guardian, 10 December. Available at http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2008/dec/10/nato-afghanistan-centralasia (accessed 5 July 2010). Zevelev, Igor (2001). NATO’s Enlargement and Russian Perceptions of Eurasian Political Frontiers. Available at http://www.nato.int/acad/fellow/98-00/zevelev.pdf (accessed 5 July 2010).

11 Intergovernmental Organisations and Non-State Actors, Russia and Eurasia: The OSCE P. Terrence Hopmann

Introduction The Organisation for Security and Cooperation in Europe (OSCE) is a regional security organisation comprising 56 participating states from across the northern hemisphere, stretching from ‘Vancouver to Vladivostok’ the long way around. Since 1995 it has been recognised as a regional organisation under Chapter VIII of the United Nations Charter, and it comprises all generally recognised states of Europe, Eurasia, and the US and Canada in a politically binding institution that focuses on a comprehensive definition of security. This includes political–military, economic–environmental, and human dimensions of security that are treated as mutually reinforcing components for regions, states, and individuals. The OSCE grew out of the Conference on Security and Cooperation in Europe (CSCE), which adopted the Helsinki Final Act in 1975 during a period of détente in the Cold War. At that time 35 states of the region came together to deal with many of the security challenges of the Cold War. Participants largely associated with three major groups, composed of NATO members, Warsaw Treaty Organisation (WTO) members, and neutral and non-aligned states of Europe. Although all states are formally equal within the OSCE, the most powerful states and institutions have always played a significant role. In many ways, the idea of a politically binding, transEuropean, trans-Atlantic security institution was promoted at the outset by the Soviet Union as part of a process intended to bring a formal political end to the Second World War and to recognise the post-war political status quo in Europe. The USSR (and later Russia after the break-up of the USSR in 1991) was consistently among the active promoters of the organisation, especially as the Cold War was winding down. Russian support for the OSCE declined significantly during the decade after 2000. Russian disillusionment with the OSCE was dramatically illustrated by a proposal of Russian President Dmitry Medvedev in Berlin on 5 June 2008, to create a new pan-European institution that would take 238

P. Terrence Hopmann 239

the form of ‘a legally binding treaty on European security in which the organisations currently working in the Euro-Atlantic area could become parties’ (Medvedev, 2008). In this speech the Russian President expressed dissatisfaction with all currently existing European security institutions because they often were ‘marginalizing and isolating countries, creating zones with differentiated levels of security and abandoning the creation of general regional collective security systems’. In particular, the OSCE was prevented from reaching its potential to ‘embody European civilisation’s newfound unity’ and from ‘becoming a full-fledged general regional organisation’ (Medvedev, 2008). This chapter seeks to explore the ups and downs of Soviet and Russian support for the CSCE/OSCE, beginning with Moscow as an eager proponent and becoming its most prominent critic over the 40-year period from 1969 to 2009. In so doing, I will seek to indicate why the OSCE no longer serves Russian interests to the same extent that it did in earlier decades, and indeed why Russia since Vladimir Putin’s arrival to power in 2000 has increasingly viewed the OSCE as a frequent irritant to its concrete foreign policy interests. More importantly, Putin and his colleagues perceived that his vision of restoring Russia’s status as a great power, in spite of the loss of the huge multinational Soviet state and of the larger communist bloc that they dominated throughout the Cold War, is no longer being served by their participation in the OSCE. This is especially evident with regard to OSCE’s involvement in Russia’s ‘near abroad’, including Central Asia, the Southern Caucasus, the Baltic States, and Ukraine, where Russia has increasingly asserted its special interest in retaining influence over these regions. I shall thus examine some of the specific criticisms by the Russian Federation of the OSCE in recent decades, and I will also explore some of the foundations for Russia’s current attitude towards multilateral security in the northern hemisphere that led it to believe that the OSCE is incapable of realising Russia’s vision for the kind of security arrangement that Europe needs in the early decades of the twenty-first century. I shall conclude with some observations about whether or not the OSCE can be transformed sufficiently to encompass the fundamental components of the Russian vision and thereby reinvigorate Russian participation, or whether in fact only a new security architecture will satisfy Russian interests and beliefs about its security requirements in the decades ahead.

Historical background: The Soviet Union and Russia’s role in the CSCE/OSCE during and immediately after the end of the Cold War The Soviet Union and the CSCE, 1969–89 The origins of the CSCE may be found in Soviet proposals beginning in the mid-1950s to hold an all-European conference to put a political end to

240 IGOs and Non-State Actors, Russia and Eurasia

the Second World War by resolving the ‘German question’ and essentially ratifying the post-war status quo in Europe. This idea achieved prominence in frequent public statements by General Secretary Leonid Brezhnev and Foreign Minister Andrei Gromyko, and their proposals in the mid-1960s to hold a European security conference were endorsed by the Warsaw Pact’s Budapest Declaration of July 1966. The US and most of its NATO allies were opposed to a conference with such a vague ‘political’ agenda, preferring instead to hold a conference between NATO and Warsaw Pact states dealing with ‘hard’ arms control in Europe. Their opposition was reinforced by the intervention of Soviet troops in Czechoslovakia in 1968 to suppress the internal reforms of the ‘Prague spring’. However, in March 1969 the Warsaw Treaty Organisation reissued its appeal for an all-European conference ‘to consider questions of European security and cooperation’. The WTO proposed that the agenda should emphasise security matters, including recognition of existing borders and nonaggression, along with scientific and technological cooperation. Movement towards the convening of a European security conference gained further momentum when Finland offered to host a preparatory conference in Helsinki and when West Germany embarked on its ostpolitik policy and reached agreement with both the Soviet Union and Poland over the political status and borders of East Germany; this was further reinforced by the Four Power agreement on Berlin in 1971 (Dean, 1987, p. 103). NATO responded to the Finnish proposal and to the Warsaw Pact’s ideas regarding the agenda for a European security conference by suggesting that the agenda should consider prior notification of military manoeuvres in the security realm, while emphasising that it should also include a ‘human dimension’ with a focus on freer movement of people and ideas across the Cold War divide. The Western states sought to add to the CSCE agenda issues such as human rights and extended contacts between peoples in Eastern and Western Europe. With objections by the US and its NATO allies largely attenuated, the conditions were ripe for beginning negotiations on a new security framework for the European region, broadly defined. Therefore, as part of a grand compromise, the CSCE opened in Helsinki in 1973 in response largely to the Soviet and WTO initiative, while at about the same time negotiations on ‘hard arms control’, namely on Mutual Balanced Force Reductions (MBFR) in Europe, favoured by the US and its NATO allies, opened in Vienna. The CSCE negotiations began with a foreign ministers’ meeting in Helsinki on 3–7 July 1973. At the opening 35 delegations were present, including two North American countries – the US and Canada – plus all states of Europe big and small, ranging from the Soviet Union to the Holy See. The sole exceptions were Albania, which at that time followed a policy of selfisolation from international organisations, and Andorra, a micro-state in Western Europe that entered both the UN and the OSCE only in 1996. The

P. Terrence Hopmann 241

working phase of negotiations began in Geneva on 18 September 1973, and continued until 25 July 1975. During this phase issues were grouped together into three substantive ‘baskets’, which also were reflected in the eventual agreement: Basket I dealt with security issues, especially military confidencebuilding measures; Basket II dealt with cooperation in economic, scientific, and technical fields; Basket III treated the ‘human dimension’, including freer movement of peoples; cultural, scientific, and educational exchanges; and promoting tourism across national boundaries, all designed to bridge the East–West divide in Europe. Of special importance as well was the decision rule adopted for the conference, namely that all decisions would be taken only by the consensus of all participating states (Lehne, 1991, pp. 3–4). With a few notable exceptions, this has been the operative decision rule in the OSCE ever since. Therefore, all collective norms, principles, rules, decisions, and procedures that form the core of the OSCE’s acquis received at least the passive concurrence of all participating states at the time of their adoption; all 22 states that entered the OSCE after 1975, including all former Soviet and Yugoslav republics, agreed to accept all of the pre-existing acquis at the time of their entry. The Soviet Union generally played an active and positive role during the Geneva phase of these negotiations. In a quantitative study that sought to identify the original drafters of language appearing in the Helsinki Decalogue and Basket I (security and confidence-building measures), Hopmann found that 16.38 per cent of the identifiable language in the final text was originally introduced by the Soviet Union, making it the second most active contributor among the 35 participating states after Yugoslavia (20.15 per cent of the attributable text), which assumed a leading role among the neutral and nonaligned states. The Soviet contribution was approximately four times that of the US (with 4.33 per cent of the final text) (Hopmann, 1978, p. 168).1 The Helsinki Final Act was signed at a summit conference of heads of state of all 35 countries in Helsinki on 31 July–1 August 1975. It starts with a ‘Decalogue’ of ten principles that should govern interstate relations: (1) sovereign equality of states, (2) refraining from the threat or use of force, (3) inviolability of frontiers, (4) territorial integrity of states, (5) peaceful settlement of disputes, (6) non-intervention in internal affairs, (7) respect for human rights and fundamental freedoms, (8) self-determination of peoples, (9) cooperation between states, and (10) fulfilment of obligations under international law.2 These ten principles have created the normative structure under which the CSCE and the OSCE have operated ever since, although tensions subsequently appeared concerning their relative priority, especially regarding the conflict between non-interference and human rights. There has been considerable speculation about why the Soviet Union signed the Helsinki Final Act, given the inclusion of the human rights principle. There are several likely explanations. First, this appeared to be a necessary compromise with the West in order to gain the latter’s support

242 IGOs and Non-State Actors, Russia and Eurasia

for the primary Soviet objective of ratifying the post-Second World War territorial status quo in Europe. Second, although the Basket III provisions were often later treated in the West as constituting basic human rights principles, in fact the CSCE/OSCE has consistently referred to this as the ‘human dimension’; virtually all of the concrete provisions of Basket III refer to extending human contacts such as cultural, scientific, and educational exchanges across the Cold War line of division rather than to political rights as traditionally defined in the West. The only concrete reference to the latter was in Principle 7 of the Decalogue. However, here the Soviets chose to interpret this in the context of all ten principles, in which they perceived ‘non-interference in the internal affairs of states’ as paramount; since ‘fundamental human rights’ are not defined in the Decalogue, Soviet leaders probably believed that they could continue to interpret this term as they chose, as they had long done with regard to other documents such as the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. In short, at the time they likely perceived the risks to their interests as minimal in contrast to the political gains that they perceived would justify maintenance of their ‘sphere of influence’ in Central and Eastern Europe. Notwithstanding these political considerations by the Soviets, the Helsinki normative regime has had a profound impact on the security situation in Europe ever since 1975. Some commentators have even concluded that it played a significant role in undermining the legitimacy of the communist governments throughout Central and Eastern Europe. A network of informal domestic and transnational alliances emerged across Eastern Europe and the Soviet Union that ‘weakened the institutions, drained the resources, and delegitimated [sic] the arguments that sustained repressive, one-party rule’ (Thomas, 2001, p. 284). However, several of the principles adopted at Helsinki soon collided with one another in the process of implementation, and establishing the priority of principles has been a frequent subject of dispute between the Soviets/Russians and the West ever since. Specifically, the principles of human rights versus non-interference in the internal affairs of states and between the territorial integrity of states and the right of selfdetermination of peoples have often been a source of tension. Almost every dispute between the Soviet Union (and later Russia) and the majority of OSCE participating states since 1975 has centred on one or both of these apparently competing pairs of principles. The CSCE operated between 1975 and 1990 as a series of ‘review conferences’, held in Belgrade, Madrid, and Vienna. The first two conferences were largely stalemated over the debate between the West’s advocacy of strengthening the human rights provisions and the Warsaw Pact’s insistence on the primacy of state sovereignty. However, this began to change at the Vienna conference that took place from 1985 to 1989. Its most significant accomplishments undoubtedly came in the ‘human dimension’. At its very outset Soviet Foreign Minister Eduard Shevardnadze surprised those in attendance by proposing a special

P. Terrence Hopmann 243

CSCE conference on humanitarian issues to be held in Moscow, suggesting too that the CSCE provide the institutional foundation for a ‘common European home’ extending across its entire territorial span.3 The Concluding Document adopted by consensus proclaimed that issues of human rights are a fundamental component of international security and thus constitute a responsibility of the entire group of states and do not fall exclusively within the ‘internal affairs’ of the state: They also confirm the universal significance of human rights and fundamental freedoms, respect for which is an essential factor for peace, justice and security necessary to insure the development of friendly relations and cooperation among themselves, as among all States. CSCE, 1989, p. 6 Perhaps the most important innovation adopted in January 1989 in Vienna, however, opened freedom of movement across national borders, as noted in the Concluding Document: ‘the participating States will respect fully the right of everyone to freedom of movement and residence within the borders of each State, and to leave any country, including his own, and to return to his country’ (CSCE, 1989, p. 9). Largely as a result of this commitment, Hungary agreed to open its borders with Austria in 1989, allowing East German tourists to go to the West. This opened the floodgate that soon led to the breach of the Berlin Wall on 9 November 1989. Much to the surprise of many in the West, Gorbachev’s Soviet regime did not repudiate these results of the Helsinki process, but appeared to embrace them. The Transition after the end of the Cold War, 1989–92 With the fall of the Berlin Wall on 9 November 1989, the CSCE began a rapid process of transformation to respond to the new post-Cold War security situation in Europe. At this time the Soviet Union took the lead in proposing the possibility of creating a genuine system of ‘cooperative security’ on the European continent by making the CSCE the overarching institutional structure to manage security in the new Europe. Soviet Foreign Minister Shevardnadze called for the creation of a new order based on a system of collective security and built around the CSCE, while Mikhail Gorbachev referred to the CSCE as the foundation for his conception of a ‘Common European Home’. They held that collective security could replace competition between opposing blocs with a genuinely cooperative set of relations, in which the security of all states would be insured by cooperation between them. Rather than relying on a classical balance of power or fixed alliances, cooperative security assumes that security is indivisible. Rather than being directed against external enemies, it seeks to provide guarantees against a breach of the peace by one of the organisation’s own participating states. Rather than relying on pre-existing alliances, it seeks to respond

244 IGOs and Non-State Actors, Russia and Eurasia

flexibly and collectively to efforts by any one state or a small group of states to violate the principles, norms, and rules established collectively by all participating states. While there was an element of realism in the Soviet advocacy for a pan-European institution to replace military alliances as the Warsaw Pact crumbled while NATO survived, among Soviet foreign policy intellectuals around Gorbachev who were proponents of ‘new thinking’ there was also a genuine belief in the idea of collective security as a more stable and just system than a balance of power based on competing alliances. This also provided for the Soviets a better framework for the eventual reunification of Germany, which they hoped would occur outside of NATO. Thus, the Soviets insisted that the bipolarity of the Cold War should be replaced by a strengthened CSCE that would include a Council of Greater Europe where heads of state would meet at regular intervals, a Foreign Ministers Committee that would meet twice a year, a permanent Secretariat, and a ‘Centre for Military–Political Stability’, which would be a forum for conflict prevention and mediation as well as insuring transparency of military activities (Lynch, 2000, p. 102). Two major documents were produced by the CSCE in the first year after the end of the Cold War, with the support and participation of the Soviet Union, which fundamentally changed the normative and institutional structure of European security. The first of these was a report of an expert meeting held in Copenhagen in June 1990 on the human dimension of security. It reflected the essential features of Western democratic practices and attempted to apply them to the entire continent. Specifically, it called for free elections open to outside observation leading to representative governments in all CSCE states, equality before the law, pre-eminence of the rule of law, freedom to establish political parties, and assurances about the rights of accused persons. In effect, it enacted a code of democratic procedures to guide all participating states, noting ‘that vigorous democracy depends on the existence as an integral part of national life of democratic values and practices as well as an extensive range of democratic institutions’ (‘Document of the Copenhagen Meeting’, 1990, p. 14). It also expanded and gave substantive content to many of the human dimension principles contained only in general terms in previous CSCE documents (US Commission on Security and Cooperation in Europe, 1990). Furthermore, in a 1991 follow-on meeting on the human dimension in Moscow the participating states agreed by consensus ‘categorically and irrevocably’ that ‘commitments undertaken in the field of the human dimension of the CSCE are matters of direct and legitimate concern to all participating States and do not belong exclusively to the internal affairs of the State concerned’ (Conference on Security and Cooperation in Europe, 1991, p. 29). Therefore, on matters pertaining to the human dimension, the OSCE has insisted on the right of the ‘international community’, as represented by a consensus within the OSCE, to intervene in the internal affairs

P. Terrence Hopmann 245

of participating states to assist in the implementation of those principles to which they had subscribed. This document, ironically produced at a Moscow conference originally proposed by former Soviet Foreign Minister Shevardnadze, limited national sovereignty in ways that Russian leadership has come to regret in the decade since 2000. The second major document was the ‘Charter of Paris for a New Europe’ signed at a summit meeting held from 19 to 21 November 1990. In addition to reaffirming the acquis of the CSCE from the Helsinki Final Act through the various follow-on conferences and expert meetings, the Charter of Paris began the formal institutionalisation of the CSCE by establishing a secretariat in Prague (moved to Vienna in 1993). Regular meetings were to be held at the level of foreign ministers annually, summit meetings of heads of state were to be held biannually, and a Committee of Senior Officials would meet as needed to conduct all business between the annual and biannual meetings at the highest political levels. In short, after Paris the CSCE began to take on most of the traditional features of an established international organisation rather than a series of ad hoc meetings about security issues. The Charter of Paris also strengthened the economic, security, and human dimension principles of the Helsinki Final Act. In the economic realm, an initial push to enshrine the principles of free market economics was tempered by a commitment to ‘promote social justice and progress and further the welfare of our peoples’ (Conference on Security and Cooperation in Europe, 1990, p. 9). Also a new document on Confidence and SecurityBuilding measures, known as the Vienna Document 1990, was signed, expanding on the provisions allowing for transparency of military activities extending from the ‘Atlantic to the Urals’ and an exchange of military information that would make the inadvertent outbreak of war less likely. Two important institutional structures were created by the Charter of Paris. First, a Conflict Prevention Centre (CPC) was created within the Secretariat. Initially intended primarily to monitor compliance with confidence-building measures, following the outbreak of secessionist violence in the former Yugoslavia and in regions of the former Soviet Union, the Helsinki Summit in 1992 enlarged its mandate and capacity to respond to the outbreak of ethno-national violence. This was the first meeting at which all of the former Soviet and Yugoslav countries participated as sovereign states, increasing the total number of participating states to 52. Fighting broke out in the early 1990s in several of the successor states to the Soviet Union, including Azerbaijan (Nagorno-Karabakh), Georgia (Abkhazia and South Ossetia), Moldova (Transdniestria), and Tajikistan. In Yugoslavia, the disintegration of the federal state led to violence, first in Slovenia, then in Croatia and soon afterwards in Bosnia-Herzegovina. This wave of violence in the region following the break-up of these two large multinational states thus spawned efforts at the 1992 Helsinki Summit to strengthen the CPC and to endow it with additional functions in the realm of conflict management.

246 IGOs and Non-State Actors, Russia and Eurasia

The second institution was the Office of Free Elections, soon renamed the Office of Democratic Institutions and Human Rights (ODIHR), based in Warsaw. Operating with a mandate from the Permanent Council in Vienna but largely independently, it developed a significant capacity to assist states in the conduct of democratic campaigns and elections, to monitor elections at all stages of the process, and to evaluate the extent to which they meet OSCE and other international standards. At first, ODIHR focused mostly on monitoring elections in Eurasia and the Balkans, but following Russian criticisms it also subsequently began monitoring elections in established Western democracies as well. In addition to its well-known work on elections, ODIHR also focuses on implementation of the rule of law and other aspects of the human dimension acquis. A third body, the office of the High Commissioner on National Minorities (HCNM), based in The Hague, was created in 1992 at the Helsinki CSCE Summit to engage in early-warning, preventive diplomacy, and informal conciliation in an effort to prevent and resolve some of the most significant conflicts that had emerged in Central and Eastern Europe and Eurasia since the end of the Cold War, where the issue of the status and treatment of persons belonging to ethno-national minorities is a major concern. The main task of this ‘eminent person’ is to obtain ‘first-hand information from all parties directly involved, discuss the questions with the parties, and where appropriate promote dialogue, confidence, and co-operation between them’ (CSCE Committee of the Whole, 1992, p. 9). The HCNM has considerable latitude to become involved at his own discretion, but must do so with the consent of the government involved and as much as possible with minimal public awareness of his intervention. If the High Commissioner believes that a serious risk of violent conflict exists, he is supposed to communicate an ‘early warning’ to the Chair-in-Office and the Permanent Council. Another major advance taken at Helsinki was the decision to establish missions in areas of tension to provide for ‘early warning, conflict prevention and crisis management (including fact-finding and rapporteur missions and CSCE peace-keeping) [and] peaceful settlement of disputes’. The original intent of the heads of state assembled at Helsinki appeared to be largely to create temporary, more or less ad hoc missions to deal with conflicts as they arose. However, in light especially of the worsening of the situation in the former Yugoslavia, the Committee of Senior Officials meeting in Vienna one month after the Helsinki Summit decided to create so-called ‘missions of long duration’, the first of which was to be sent to monitor the situation in three regions of the former Republic of Yugoslavia, namely Kosovo, Sandjak, and Vojvodina; between 1992 and 2009 some 25 missions have been deployed in regions of potential or actual violent conflict. From the Russian perspective two of the most important such missions were those established in Estonia and Latvia, where large numbers of ethnic Russians, who had entered these countries after their incorporation into the Soviet Union, were denied

P. Terrence Hopmann 247

citizenship and the right to vote. Both the High Commissioner on National Minorities and the missions attempted to persuade these two governments to modify their restrictive laws on citizenship, voting, language policy, and a number of related issues of importance to Russia. Russia and the OSCE, 1992–9: From optimism to disillusionment By 1992 Russia had supported the expansion of the institutional structures of the CSCE and their capacity to become involved in affairs traditionally considered to fall within the internal jurisdiction of states. Indeed, at least until the end of the 1994 Budapest Summit at which the CSCE was renamed the OSCE, Russia advocated that the OSCE should become the main institution responsible for security in Europe, an umbrella for all security organisations on the continent, including NATO, the Western European Union (WEU), and the Commonwealth of Independent States (CIS), which linked some of the post-Soviet states in a loose military and economic arrangement. However, as Yuri Davidov writes, ‘the evident weakness of OSCE and the obsession with the issue of expanding NATO prevented these ideas from being discussed fruitfully at the Budapest Summit’ (Davidov, 1996, pp. 275–6). In the years between 1992 and 1999 Russia continued to support the OSCE actively, but the seeds of Russian disillusionment with the OSCE were also planted during this period, although they did not become highly visible until 1999. Between 1995 and 1999, a major Russian initiative within the OSCE sought to elaborate a ‘Common and Comprehensive Security Model for the 21st Century’. In July 1997 the Russians introduced into the OSCE’s Permanent Council a proposal for a European Security Charter that would develop the ‘concept of the indivisibility of security’. Russian Foreign Minister Primakov stressed that the indivisibility of security required that no elements appear within the region ‘that would ensure the security of certain participants at the expense of others’ (Primakov, 1996), an obvious reference to NATO’s concept of collective defence, which by definition is directed against a potential external aggressor. As Dov Lynch has stressed, Russia sought to prevent divisions in Europe along both geographical lines and between ‘hard’ and ‘soft’ security institutions (Lynch, 2000, p. 105). Prior to the 1994 Budapest Summit the Russians proposed to create a CSCE executive committee composed of major states, each with a veto, that would oversee CSCE peacekeeping and other related activities in the field of security; clearly their idea sought to remake the OSCE along the lines of the UN Security Council, including the right of great power veto over decisions. During the period from 1991 to 1994 Russia accepted active CSCE monitoring of Russian peacekeeping in Georgia, Moldova, and Tajikistan. It agreed to the establishment of CSCE missions in each of these postSoviet states. In Georgia, the CSCE was mandated as the primary mediator between the government in Tbilisi and the breakaway region of South

248 IGOs and Non-State Actors, Russia and Eurasia

Ossetia, while also supporting a UN mediating role between Georgia and Abkhazia. In Moldova, the CSCE mission observed Russian peacekeepers along the Dniestr River bordering the secessionist region of Transdniestria, monitored the partly unfulfilled Russian commitment to remove troops and equipment from the base of the former Soviet 14th Army in Transdniestria, and served as a mediator between the two parties to try to find a formula to preserve the territorial integrity of Moldova while also granting substantial autonomy to Transdniestria. In Tajikistan, the OSCE mission was tasked with monitoring an agreement to end fighting between Islamic rebel groups and the post-Soviet government and observing activities of Russian peacekeeping forces introduced under the terms of that agreement. Finally, the Russians accepted the mediation by the CSCE’s Minsk Group of the conflict over Nagorno-Karabakh, where the Russians served as a co-chair. The Minsk Group has sought to resolve the conflict between Armenia and Azerbaijan over the status of Nagorno-Karabakh, an Armenian-majority region within Azerbaijan, and the CSCE went so far as to create a High Level Planning Group to prepare for the possibility of a CSCE-led peacekeeping force in the region, which never materialised given the absence of any settlement of the conflict (Hopmann, 1999, pp. 28–35). In many ways the high point of Russian cooperation with the OSCE came immediately after Budapest, when Russia accepted the establishment of an OSCE Assistance Group in Chechnya, where extensive fighting was underway between Chechen rebels and the Russian army and internal security troops. Many Western nations had pushed hard for such a mission, with little prospect that it would be accepted by Moscow, so there was considerable surprise that Russia agreed to an OSCE mission on the ground in such a sensitive region. The mandate of the assistance group made clear that it was to ‘promote the peaceful resolution’ of the conflict in Chechnya ‘in conformity with the principle of the territorial integrity of the Russian Federation and in accordance with OSCE principles’. It was also assigned responsibility for monitoring compliance with the human dimensions principles of the OSCE (Hopmann, 1999, pp. 31–2). Although the small OSCE group initially played a cautious role in the conflict, when Ambassador Tim Guldimann of Switzerland assumed the role of head of the Assistance Group, he initiated frequent shuttle diplomacy between Moscow and Grozny, arranging several high-level meetings between senior officials of the Russian Federation and Chechnya. These culminated in a meeting arranged by the Assistance Group at Khasavyurt in neighbouring Dagestan between Chechen ‘President’ Yandarbiev and Yeltsin’s newly appointed security adviser, General Alexander Lebed, on 31 August 1996. The resulting agreement called for the withdrawal of Russian forces and opening direct negotiations not to exceed five years to decide upon the long-term political status of Chechnya. Subsequently, the OSCE Assistance Group prepared and monitored elections for a new Chechen ‘president’ in

P. Terrence Hopmann 249

January 1997, which Aslan Maskhadov won (Hopmann, 1999, pp. 32–3). After this period the OSCE was unable to provide sufficient assistance to the Chechen government to establish law and order throughout Chechnya, but it did its best within its limited mandate to assist in post-conflict development in Chechnya prior to the second Russian military incursion into Chechnya that began in August 1999. Not surprisingly, some Russian politicians felt humiliated at having this international presence on Russian territory, reporting on the conduct of the war by all parties. However, the OSCE did play a significant role in bringing this deadly and increasingly unpopular conflict to a temporary halt, thereby demonstrating that it could also serve Russian security interests in resolving its most thorny post-Cold War internal conflict. Not only did Russia cooperate with the OSCE on security matters during this period, but also opened itself to monitoring by ODIHR of numerous elections within the Russian Federation, most notably the presidential elections of 1996 in which Boris Yeltsin was re-elected. Although Russian officials occasionally voiced their criticism that ODIHR focused excessively on former communist states, while ignoring elections in established Western democracies, they were sufficiently eager to obtain international legitimacy for their own democratic practices that they welcomed ODIHR’s involvement. Similarly, Russia has generally cooperated with ODIHR’s observation of virtually all elections held in the five states of Central Asia since 1991, as well as in the Caucasus. Russia continued as well to push for a new OSCE document on European security at the Ministerial Council in Oslo in 1998, preparing a draft that would be finalised at the 1999 OSCE Summit in Istanbul. As Dov Lynch has noted, they sought to create rules for the game that ‘would prevent a NATO monopoly on “hard” security decision-making and hopefully ensure a Russian voice at the heart of these interactions’ (Lynch, 2000, p. 118). Although this project proceeded more or less as hoped by Russia, its broader political objectives were shattered by several events in 1999, especially by the NATO-led war in Kosovo, which made this a critical transitional year not only in Russian domestic politics with the rise to power to Vladimir Putin, but also in Russia’s relationship with the OSCE. Tensions also grew when Russian forces entered Chechnya later that same year, eventually forcing the OSCE Assistance Group to relocate to Moscow because of the dangers posed by the ongoing violence in Chechnya. As NATO enlargement proceeded in the first decade after the Cold War, NATO provided Russia with several important reassurances. The NATO– Russia Founding Act, adopted in Paris in 1997, stated that ‘NATO and Russia will seek the widest possible cooperation among participating States of the OSCE with the aim of creating in Europe a common space of security and stability, without dividing lines or spheres of influence limiting the sovereignty of any state’ (cited in Yost, 1998, p. 93). These included, first, a commitment that no nuclear weapons would be based in the new NATO

250 IGOs and Non-State Actors, Russia and Eurasia

member states, that is, those that had previously been part of the Warsaw Treaty Organisation; second, that there would be no substantial, long-term basing of NATO combat troops on the territory of new member states (cited in Yost, 1998, p. 142); and, third, that ‘out of area’ military action – that is action other than a response to a direct attack upon an alliance member under Article V – would not be taken by NATO without prior authorisation by either the UN or the OSCE, where Russia held veto power. This latter commitment was clearly violated by the war in Kosovo. In 1997 the OSCE High Commissioner on National Minorities, Ambassador Max van der Stoel of the Netherlands, was also appointed the special representative to Kosovo by the OSCE Chair-in-Office, Foreign Minister Niels Helweg Petersen of Denmark. Although van der Stoel was not allowed to travel to Kosovo by the authorities in Belgrade following their suspension in 1992 from active participation in the OSCE because of their actions in Croatia and Bosnia, he met with leaders from both communities in the fall of 1997. Upon reporting to the OSCE Permanent Council in the fall of 1997 he gave ‘early warning’ of an impending crisis in Kosovo, especially given the flow of arms to the region following the collapse of the Albanian government earlier that year. This, plus a crackdown by the government of Serbia, had undermined Kosovar Albanian support for the moderate leadership of Ibrahim Rugova and his League for a Democratic Kosovo (LDK) and strengthened the more militant Kosovo Liberation Army (KLA). Although there was widespread support for urgent diplomatic action in the Permanent Council, including from the Russian delegation, these warnings largely fell on deaf ears in the West, especially in the US, and so no major diplomatic initiative was launched by the OSCE at a time when the crisis might have been managed short of large-scale violence. As the situation continued to deteriorate throughout 1998, the US’ special envoy, Richard Holbrooke, brokered an arrangement on 13 October 1998, calling for a cease-fire to be monitored by the OSCE. The Permanent Council, with Russian support, authorised the creation of the Kosovo Verification Mission (KVM) consisting of 2,000 unarmed monitors, who would enter all parts of Kosovo and serve as both monitors and, whenever possible, as ombudspersons to help resolve conflicts at the local level before they escalated to violence. However, this operation proved to be too little, too late. As the mission started to deploy, violence also increased on the ground, and it became increasingly evident that unarmed monitors from the OSCE could do little to halt the spiral of violence (Hopmann, 1999, pp. 22–4). When the KVM came upon an apparent massacre of Kosovar Albanians in the village of Raˇ cak in January 1999, the Mission Head, Ambassador William Walker of the US, immediately condemned Serbs for the killing before any forensic evidence had become available ( Judah, 2002, pp. 193–4). The news also woke Washington from its stupor, and indifference turned to outrage and demands for military action.

P. Terrence Hopmann 251

Thereafter, diplomacy moved outside the OSCE to a conference at Rambouillet, near Paris, including members of the so-called contact group – the US, Great Britain, France, Germany, and Russia – who sought to produce an agreement between the Kosovo Albanian community and the Serbian government. The negotiations were backed by an implicit threat of bombing if the Serbs failed to agree; if the Albanian community were responsible for the failure, they would potentially be left to suffer whatever fate was in store for them at the hands of the Serbs. The proposed agreement met with early resistance from both parties. As negotiations continued and as more concessions were made to Kosovar Albanians, Russian delegates began to distance themselves from the negotiations, and even more significantly from the military action threatened by NATO if the Serbs refused to sign. Although far from supportive of Milosevic, the Russians felt humiliated by the process and by the fact that the initiative had been taken away from institutions in which they had a significant role, supplanted by NATO and unilateral US diplomacy ( Judah, 2002, ch. 7). When the NATO air war against Serbia began on 24 March 1999, Russia was critical that NATO had acted without any mandate from either the UN or the OSCE, a decision in Brussels largely motivated by a presumed Russian veto of military action in either of those institutions. Yeltsin criticised NATO for acting in violation of the OSCE principle of indivisible security by monopolising the use of force (Lynch, 2000, p. 119). Although Milosevic had apparently convinced himself that Russian aid would be forthcoming if Serbia were attacked by NATO, he received nothing more than rhetorical support from the Yeltsin government, and even that was somewhat muted at the time ( Judah, 2002, p. 232). Indeed, the war became something of a political liability for President Yeltsin, who was frequently denounced at home for standing by while an Orthodox Slavic nation was bombed by NATO forces. Therefore, Yeltsin began engaging in direct conversations with US President Clinton and Western European leaders to open negotiations to bring the war to an end. These conversations led to an agreement whereby former Finnish President Martti Ahtisaari and Russian Prime Minister Viktor Chernomyrdin would co-chair a conference, joined by US Under Secretary of State Strobe Talbott, in Moscow. The resulting agreement, reached on 9 June 1999, sought to bring the war to an end and to put Kosovo under UN jurisdiction pending a final agreement on its political status that was postponed well into the future. Under UN auspices the OSCE was also granted a role in areas such as police training, election support and monitoring, human dimension reporting, rule of law promotion, and a range of other political tasks. Two days after the agreement was signed, a unit of Russian soldiers serving with SFOR in Bosnia created a momentary crisis when they arrived at an airport outside Prishtina before NATO troops, though they later ceded control to NATO command. There were rumours that there had

252 IGOs and Non-State Actors, Russia and Eurasia

been a secret agreement that would have allowed Russian peacekeepers to enter northern Kosovo, perhaps assisting Serbia to split off the region north of the Ibar River and the city of Mitrovica that is most heavily populated by ethnic Serbs, but more than likely this was a rogue operation rather than a coordinated Russian move to support Serbian irredentism in a post-war Kosovo ( Judah, 2002, pp. 284–5). Following the end of the Kosovo War, the OSCE Summit Conference was held in Istanbul in November 1999, attended by most heads of state, including US President Bill Clinton and Russian President Boris Yeltsin. However, US–Russian relations, and Russian relations with the OSCE, became further strained by the renewed fighting in Chechnya that began in August 1999. After the disintegration of law and order within Chechnya, in which all international institutions except for the OSCE and all foreign personnel serving with international NGOs withdrew in the face of frequent kidnappings and murders of international personnel, it was evident that something had to be done. Then a series of apartment explosions occurred in Moscow, which were widely attributed to Chechen terrorists (though some believe that they were set off by Russian security forces to serve as a pretext for armed intervention in Chechnya). In the face of public outcry, Russian security forces from the Ministry of Defence and from Internal Security forces again entered Chechnya and embarked on a brutal campaign to re-establish Russian central authority, thereby violating the Khasavyurt agreement of three years earlier. After several years in which the influence of Russian security forces had declined in Moscow, they seized this opportunity to regain the upper hand in Russian politics. In the runup to the Istanbul Summit several unofficial efforts were made to re-engage the OSCE more actively in the Chechen conflict, although the renewed violence had forced the OSCE Assistance Group to depart Grozny and to operate from an office in Moscow, far removed from monitoring events on the ground. All of these events made the Istanbul Summit especially important for the future not only of the OSCE, but of Russian relations with Western Europe and the US. In spite of these uncertainties the Istanbul Summit was one of the most productive in the history of the OSCE, although it proved to be the last of its kind at least for more than a decade. It adopted a Charter for European Security, which contained at least some of the Russian proposals to strengthen the OSCE’s capacity in conflict management. On Kosovo, it supported the large ‘status neutral’ OSCE mission on the ground, emphasising its goal of promoting a genuine multi-ethnic society as opposed to one dominated by the region’s majority; it also pledged OSCE’s support for democratic development in Serbia-Montenegro. It reaffirmed its support for the territorial integrity of both Georgia and Moldova, while calling upon the Russian Federation, in conformity with its commitments made two years previously in the Lisbon Summit, to withdraw all of their troops from the

P. Terrence Hopmann 253

Transdniestria region of Moldova by 2002. New OSCE offices were opened in Baku and Yerevan, and the mandate for the Advisory and Monitoring Mission in Belarus was modified, stressing the importance of political dialogue between the government and opposition groups. It reaffirmed the territorial integrity of the Russian Federation, including Chechnya, and offered its assistance to facilitate an end to fighting in the region, welcoming a planned visit by the incoming Chair-in-Office, the Foreign Minister of Austria. It created Rapid Expert and Assistance Teams (REACT) to be able to respond quickly to developing crises, such as the one that had occurred in Kosovo in 1998. In this connection, an Operations Centre was created in Vienna to maintain contact with all OSCE missions in the field on a continuous basis (OSCE, 1999, pp. 46–54). The Istanbul Summit also saw the adoption of a revised and expanded set of military confidence-building measures known as Vienna Document 1999. Finally, on the margins of the Summit, 32 participating states signed the Adapted Conventional Forces in Europe (CFE) Treaty, which upon ratification would replace the 1990 Treaty, but with limitations on armaments established on a national basis rather than on a bloc-to-bloc basis. This treaty was supported by Russia in part because it removed the fiction under which CFE had operated for almost a decade, namely that there were still two opposing alliances in Europe, with major categories of armaments set at equal collective levels between NATO and the no-longer-existing Warsaw Treaty Organisation. However, the US and several other Western parties indicated that they would not ratify the treaty until Russia had fulfilled its commitment to withdraw troops stationed in Georgia (Abkhazia) and in Moldova (Transdniestria). As of the time of this writing, these troops have not been fully withdrawn and the treaty has not yet entered into force. In 2007 Russia suspended its commitment to implement the terms of the treaty pending ratification, arguing that the delay had made many of its provision obsolete, especially limits on Russian forces in the so-called flank zone adjacent to the southern Caucasus. Presidents Yeltsin and Clinton had several private meetings on the margins of the Istanbul Summit, culminating in disagreement and Yeltsin’s angry early departure from Istanbul. Foreign Minister Igor Ivanov remained in Istanbul and signed the Summit declaration, representing one of the last times that the OSCE has been able to achieve a consensus document and the last time that heads of state would meet in a Summit under OSCE auspices for more than a decade.4 The Istanbul Summit would prove to be Boris Yeltsin’s last appearance on the international stage. Already in August he had appointed a young Vladimir Putin as his Prime Minister, and Putin rapidly rose to prominence as the second war in Chechnya got underway with his enthusiastic support. On 31 December 1999, Yeltsin announced his retirement, and Putin became Acting President. Although the seeds of Russian disillusionment with the OSCE had already been planted, especially as events of 1999 unfolded,

254 IGOs and Non-State Actors, Russia and Eurasia

this domestic political transformation within Russia coincided with a significant break in Russian support for the OSCE and the principles of multilateral security cooperation that it embraced.

Russia and the OSCE under Putin (2000–9) Russia’s relationship with the OSCE deteriorated significantly through the first decade of the twenty-first century, culminating in President Medvedev’s 2008 proposal to create a new European security structure to supplant it. Identifying causal relationships in complex social relationships like this is usually difficult, but in this case one might be tempted to jump to the seemingly easy explanation that Putin’s arrival in power on the first day of the new millennium was primarily responsible for this change in the Russian position. I argue, however, that such an interpretation is overly simplistic and even misleading. It ignores the roots of the problem that, as demonstrated above, developed well before Putin came to power; these factors in part explain simultaneously why Putin was able to emerge to such a senior position by 2000, and at the same time why Russia’s relationship with the West and with multilateral European security institutions deteriorated so severely. It also ignores the fact that many issues that subsequently soured the Russian relationship with the OSCE reflected more fundamental Russian dissatisfaction with the overall nature of post-Cold War security structures in Europe and even globally. I shall, therefore, identify both some of the specific issues that arose in the Russian view of the OSCE, while also showing how these reflected this deeper criticism of the overall security structures. Russia’s basic discontent with the security architecture of Europe as it evolved during the 1990s reflected several fundamental Russian concerns in the aftermath of the dramatic events of 1989–91, which led first to the break-up of the Warsaw Treaty Organisation, followed by the abandonment of communism as the dominant socio-political system, and finally by the collapse of the Soviet Union itself. This had several profound effects. First, the loss of the ‘empire’ increasingly came to mean that Russia was no longer considered one of the two superpowers of the previous bipolar international system, and this diminished international status was humiliating and frustrating to many Russians. This fact was made more apparent as the evolution of the security order increasingly meant that some gained in security (that is, NATO’s new members) at the expense of the security of others (that is, Russia, now reduced in size while the former enemy alliance moved closer to its retrenched borders). As a result Russian concern also rose about events that were perceived as threatening to its vital interests in its ‘near abroad’, resulting in Russian claims for a special sphere of influence where its security concerns were especially sensitive. Second, the break-up of the Soviet Union also contributed to an enhanced Russian preoccupation with one of the fundamental principles of the

P. Terrence Hopmann 255

1975 Helsinki Decalogue, namely the ‘territorial integrity of states’. In the early 1990s the Soviet Union, Yugoslavia, and Czechoslovakia all fell apart, in most cases voluntarily and peacefully, but especially in the former Yugoslavia with considerable violence. However, an implicit understanding emerged by 1992 that new states could legitimately emerge out of the 15 republics of the USSR, the six republics of Federal Yugoslavia, and the two regions of Czechoslovakia, but that additional regions with varying degrees of national autonomy at lower levels would not be internationally recognised as independent states nor allowed to break away from the centre, at least by force. Russia, of course, sought to enforce this principle through force in the two wars it undertook to prevent the secession of Chechnya and in extensive diplomatic negotiations to minimise the autonomous status of Tatarstan within the Russian Federation, all designed to discourage potential secessionist movements in the other 20 regions of the Russian Federation. However, in the Russian view, this principle was flagrantly violated by the 1999 NATO war in Kosovo, which secured the de facto and later the de jure independence of the Kosovo region of Serbia. Although Russian support for Serbia has largely been interpreted in the West as based on loyalty to another Slavic and Orthodox nation, this was probably less important in the Russian view than the fear that Kosovo would set a precedent for other regions, including those in the Russian Federation. Given the long Russian struggle to prevent the independence of Chechnya and its fear of similar secessionist movements in other Russian republics, especially those with large Muslim populations, NATO action in Kosovo represented a fundamental violation of the one Helsinki principle most highly regarded by Russians, that state borders are inviolable and can only be changed through the mutually negotiated agreement of the parties involved. Third, there appeared in Russia by the late 1990s considerable scepticism about the enthusiastic embrace of Western-style democracy, market economics, and human rights that had been embodied in the major OSCE documents at the end of the Cold War, namely the Charter of Paris and the Copenhagen and Moscow declarations on the ‘human dimension’ of ‘comprehensive security’. Democracy in Russia became rapidly identified with anarchy, the collapse of law and order, and the appearance of widespread criminality. Market economics became identified with a growing class division between a small minority of wealthy ‘new Russians’ and the vast majority of the population who sank into poverty; medical care became hard to obtain for all but the wealthiest, and basic goods disappeared from the stores. The collapse of the Russian economy in 1998 seemed to seal the case that liberal market economics in Russia had been an abject failure, and the once-proud Russian state became largely dependent on international economic institutions such as the IMF and World Bank. In short, the principles that the Soviet and Russian leaders had endorsed between 1990 and 1992 with great enthusiasm and which formed the new core of the OSCE’s

256 IGOs and Non-State Actors, Russia and Eurasia

second and third ‘baskets’ no longer seemed relevant or valuable, as Russia moved towards ‘directed democracy’ and away from the rampant liberalism of the early 1990s. Furthermore, as the OSCE seemed to place greater emphasis on the ‘human dimension’ at the expense of ‘basket one’ security issues, at least in the view of Russian leaders, the OSCE became unbalanced in its overall approach. Security, the core of Russia’s interest in OSCE, gave way to NATO’s pre-eminence; economics and environment, still relevant though of lesser centrality within the OSCE, ceded pride of place to the European Union; and the OSCE once again became viewed increasingly in the West as an instrument to promote its ‘human rights’ and ‘democratisation’ agendas, often at the expense of Russia and other post-communist states in the East. Ultimately, these developments lie behind a basic Russian charge that the OSCE since 1991 has focused excessively on problems that lie metaphorically ‘east of Vienna’, while ignoring issues arising ‘west of Vienna’. Fourth, especially after the Bush administration came to office in Washington in 2001, the ‘hard’ security dimension of OSCE and its related work in confidence-building measures and in armaments limitations within the CFE regime came to a halt, as Washington expressed its general disapproval of negotiated, multilateral arms control and adopted a largely unilateral approach towards security. US unilateralism reinforced a Russian scepticism about the value of multilateral security institutions in general. As NATO enlarged and increasingly encroached into Russia’s ‘near abroad’, Russia realised that it could not rely upon multilateral institutions for its own security except those that it could dominate, as the security balance in Europe shifted dramatically against its interests. Coupled with the psychological concern about their loss of ‘superpower’ status, even in the absence of immediate and concrete threats to their national security, Russian elites grew increasingly uneasy with a security structure that seemed so fundamentally unbalanced. When this was coupled with NATO’s decision to establish bases in two former Warsaw Pact states, Bulgaria and Romania; to deploy missile defence radars and interceptors in two other former WTO countries, Poland and the Czech Republic (cancelled by US President Obama in 2009); to build US bases in Uzbekistan and later Kyrgyzstan to support the military operations in Afghanistan beginning in 2002; and to conduct various joint manoeuvres through the Partnership for Peace programme with their immediate neighbours, Ukraine and Georgia, Russian political leaders inevitably perceived a geopolitical environment that left them vulnerable and potentially insecure. Furthermore, the OSCE proved to be an absolutely irrelevant institution in dealing with these security concerns that were perceived to be so pressing by Russian security analysts. These general considerations would no doubt have played an influential role in Russian foreign policy regardless of who was at the helm. Furthermore, the selection of Vladimir Putin as Russian head of state reflected the desire of the Russian political elite to find a leader who would re-establish ‘law

P. Terrence Hopmann 257

and order’, who would take a more assertive stance in international politics on behalf of Russia’s role as one of Europe’s great powers, and who would seek to create a security order more supportive of Russian interests than the one that had evolved after 1991. Putin thus seemed well suited to advance these general policy directions. The general security lacunae that he sought to remedy were further reinforced by several specific actions within the OSCE that exacerbated the Russians’ concerns and led them increasingly to view the OSCE as largely irrelevant to their primary security interests after 2000; in the few cases where the OSCE was perceived as relevant, it was also perceived as threatening rather than supportive of vital Russian interests. The first concrete issue arose over the ‘missions of long duration’, perhaps the most innovative and important OSCE activity begun in 1992. At the outset Russia had supported these missions, in part because several served Russian interests. The two most important such missions were in Estonia and Latvia, where the OSCE High Commissioner on National Minorities also played an important role. These two former Soviet republics had large ethnic Russian populations after their independence in 1991, consisting of about 33 per cent of the population in Estonia and 42 per cent in Latvia. The new governments in these two states, however, refused to grant citizenship or voting and other political rights to ethnic Russians who had immigrated after 1940, the time when, in their view, their countries had been illegally incorporated into the Soviet Union. The CSCE established missions on the territories of both countries, in 1992 in the case of Estonia and in Latvia in 1993. Their mandates included efforts to modify citizenship and language laws, facilitate migration across borders (especially with Russia), and open dialogue between the different ethnic communities. The HCNM also made frequent trips, leading to extensive recommendations to the governments about how laws might be modified and implemented to better respect the rights of these large minorities and to promote improved inter-ethnic relations. In similar ways, the original CSCE mission in Ukraine, established in 1992, sought to promote greater autonomy for Crimea, with a majority of ethnic Russians, while preserving its status within the sovereign territory of Ukraine. Finally, the Mission to Tajikistan was established in late 1993, following the negotiated cease-fire in the civil war that had wracked that Central Asian republic since its independence, and it continued to serve as an intermediary between the government and opposition throughout the period of sporadic violence that followed until a Commission of National Reconciliation was created in 1997. It subsequently assisted in the implementation of this accord and in supporting the development of the rule of law in Tajikstan, and later in the other four Central Asian republics as well. Russia obviously supported these efforts enthusiastically. Indeed, the government of President Yeltsin generally supported most of the OSCE missions, including several that were less evidently serving direct Russian interests, probably as an implicit quid pro quo for OSCE support to ethnic

258 IGOs and Non-State Actors, Russia and Eurasia

Russian minorities living outside the Russian Federation. For example, it allowed another mission in Latvia to oversee the demolition of a Soviet-era air defence radar at Skrunda, on the grounds that such radar monitoring stations were obsolete and even potentially provocative in the post-Cold War security environment in Europe. It not only allowed, but encouraged, Belarusian President Alesandr Lukashenko to accept against his will a monitoring mission based in Minsk in 1997 to observe the deteriorating human rights regime and democratic practices in this state, which sought at the time to reunite with the Russian Federation. And, as noted above, it took the extraordinary measure for a ‘great power’ of accepting the OSCE Assistance Group in Chechnya in the midst of what was essentially a civil war in one of the republics within the Russian Federation. Finally, it acquiesced in the creation of OSCE offices in Central Asia, initially only in Tashkent covering all five Central Asian states, but eventually in the capital cities of all five republics. By 1999 the OSCE had missions reporting to the CPC and to the OSCE Permanent Council in Vienna from 14 of the 15 former Soviet republics, excluding only Lithuania. In short, it was involved in the vast majority of Russia’s ‘near abroad’ and in the Russian region of Chechnya itself. Although these missions were helpful in preventing and mitigating potentially violent conflicts, they also seemed to cast aspersions on the recipient states, suggesting that they were potentially unstable states that needed outside assistance to comply with their international commitments. This latter aspect grated on Russian sensibilities, and in some cases the presence of OSCE missions ‘east of Vienna’ was viewed by Russian political elites as downright humiliating (Hopmann, 1999, pp. 15–39). The crisis over these missions arose when the mandates for the missions to Estonia and Latvia were allowed to expire at the end of 2001, thereby closing the missions. This move was advocated most forcefully by the Nordic states that had close relations with the two countries, but it received broad support from the Western states that believed that the missions’ mandates had been fulfilled. However, the Russians argued, with some substantial evidence, that the legal changes introduced were far from complete and frequently fell short in their implementation. Their anger was further increased by the speed with which these two former Soviet republics, along with Lithuania, were brought into full membership in NATO and the European Union, the first former Soviet republics to enter either of these Western multilateral institutions as full members. The two missions that had most closely looked after Russian interests by assisting ethnic Russians outside of Russia proper to achieve basic political rights were thus closed prematurely in the Russian view. The Russian Federation responded by vetoing the extension of the OSCE Assistance Group to Chechnya beyond the end of 2002, forcing it to close down in early 2003. Similarly, the OSCE Assistance and Monitoring Group to Belarus had its mandate terminated at the end of 2002, although in this case it was replaced by a smaller OSCE Office in Minsk with a

P. Terrence Hopmann 259

watered-down mandate. With this series of interactions, the OSCE ‘missions of long duration’, perhaps the most innovative and distinctive activity undertaken by the OSCE, were seriously weakened. The second concrete issue that piqued Russian anger with the OSCE involved the role of the Office of Democratic Institutions and Human Rights (ODIHR). In the general Western view, ODIHR has developed the ‘gold standard’ format for international monitoring of elections, including observation of the campaign prior to elections, the conduct of balloting, and the follow-up procedures in counting votes and determining a winner. However, in its early years ODIHR focused most of its attention on the new or aspiring ‘democracies’, predominantly located ‘east of Vienna’. Russia had initially been supportive of ODIHR, and President Yeltsin had welcomed its observation of the 1996 Russian presidential election, in which he won re-election, and of several elections for the Russian Duma. After Yeltsin’s early resignation on 31 December 1999, ODIHR monitored the March 2000 presidential election that officially anointed Vladimir Putin as president, and concluded that it was ‘conducted under a constitutional and legislative framework that is consistent with internationally recognised democratic standards, including those formulated in the OSCE Copenhagen Document of 1990’ (Office of Democratic Institutions and Human Rights, 2000, p. 3). The report went so far as to praise the fact that, ‘with less than a decade of democratic development, Russia’s achievements in the electoral area are notable’ (Office of Democratic Institutions and Human Rights, 2000, p. 4). Up through this point ODIHR had in fact reinforced the international perception that Russia had advanced further in democratisation than most other former Soviet republics. Russian disillusionment with ODIHR’s election monitoring, however, largely arose as a result of ODIHR’s involvement in the 2003 parliamentary elections in Georgia that led to the so-called rose revolution. Although formally a parliamentary election, it was widely seen as a prelude to the 2005 presidential elections in which an increasingly vocal opposition movement was seeking to bring an early end to the presidency of Eduard Shevardnadze, the former Soviet Foreign Minister under Gorbachev, widely accused of permitting rampant corruption in his government. Although Shevardnadze’s supporters in parliament won a majority of the official vote count, the elections results were widely questioned by the opposition. Support for their complaints came from the ODIHR preliminary report, which found that the ‘2 November parliamentary elections in Georgia fell short of a number of OSCE commitments and other international standards for democratic elections. Inaccuracies in the voter list seriously challenged the fundamental guarantee of universal and equal suffrage, and lessened voters’ confidence in the State administration’ (Office of Democratic Institutions and Human Rights, 2003, p. 1). This was widely interpreted as validating the charges by the opposition, setting off massive anti-government demonstrations in Tbilisi.

260 IGOs and Non-State Actors, Russia and Eurasia

When Shevardnadze attempted to convene a session of the new parliament, he was confronted by the opposition leader, Mikheil Saakashvili, and he was eventually forced to cede power to an interim president. After the Georgian Supreme Court annulled the election results, new elections were held and Saakashvili was overwhelmingly elected. Although Shevardnadze was far from popular in Moscow because of his acquiescence as foreign minister in the collapse of the Soviet bloc, he nonetheless had maintained good relations with the Russian government. His overthrow was widely seen as a rejection by Georgians of the legitimacy of the Russian role in the southern Caucasus and as a potential threat to Russian interests in the secessionist regions of Abkhazia and South Ossetia. Initially the full fury of Russian disaffection with this outcome was directed at the West in general, but the role of ODIHR in facilitating the ‘rose revolution’ did not escape notice in Moscow. Russian concerns about ODIHR’s role in promoting Western interests in countries proximate to Russia became more pronounced with the 2004 Ukrainian presidential election that led to the so-called orange revolution, suspected by many Russians to have been modelled after Georgia’s ‘rose revolution’. In the second run-off round held on 21 November 2004, between Prime Minister Viktor Yanukovych, supported by Russia, and the opposition leader, Viktor Yushchenko, widely supported in the West, initial results found Yanukovych to be the winner. However, a preliminary ODIHR report issued the next day found that ‘the second round of the Ukrainian presidential election did not meet a considerable number of OSCE commitments and Council of Europe and other European standards for democratic elections’. Furthermore, it placed much of the blame on the Prime Minister’s office, noting that the ‘abuse of State resources in favour of the Prime Minister demonstrated a widespread disregard for the fundamental distinction between the State and partisan political interests’ (Office of Democratic Institutions and Human Rights, 2004a, pp. 1–2). Following a series of demonstrations dubbed the ‘orange revolution’, the Ukrainian Supreme Court annulled the initial outcome and ordered a rerunning of the election on 26 December 2004. ODIHR and other international observers reported a much better process, and Yushchenko was elected president with 53 per cent of the vote. Given his pro-Western policies and his advocacy of NATO membership for Ukraine, the Russians were visibly shaken by this result and blamed ODIHR in large part for their involvement in rapidly casting doubt about the initial outcome. The Russians even contrasted ODIHR’s evaluation of the Ukrainian elections with its more muted criticism of the US presidential election in November 2004.5 The ODIHR report identified numerous flaws in the election process in several US states, including frequent allegations of voter fraud and intimidation, irregular application of voting rules from one polling station to another, and so forth. However, most of these concerns seemed

P. Terrence Hopmann 261

to be dismissed in the report by the observation that overall the election had taken place ‘in an environment that reflects a long democratic tradition, including institutions governed by rule of law, free and professional media and civil society involved in all aspects of the election process’ (Office of Democratic Institutions and Human Rights, 2004b, p. 1). This alleged ‘double standard’ is frequently cited by Russian officials as representative of the different criteria allegedly applied by ODIHR when monitoring elections in so-called established democracies in contrast to the newly emerging democracies in the former socialist bloc countries. Once again Russian leaders expressed considerable dissatisfaction with ODIHR’s monitoring of the 2005 parliamentary elections in Kyrgyzstan. Elections held in February and March were found to fall short of OSCE standards, and the opposition that had lost seats to pro-government candidates rallied against the government of President Akayev and seized two southern cities of Jalal-Abad and Osh, eventually occupying the president’s office in Bishkek and forcing President Akayev to flee, in what became known as the ‘tulip revolution’. ODIHR concluded with a more favourable evaluation of the subsequent presidential election in which the opposition leader Kurmanbek Bakiev was elected; continued violence and harsh treatment of Bakiev’s political opponents, however, have created continued instability in Kyrgyzstan that eventually led to his ouster in 2010, accompanied by extensive violence that led to the engagement of the OSCE’s conflict prevention mechanisms in June 2010. Russia’s conflict with ODIHR escalated in late 2007 and early 2008 over disputes about monitoring Russia’s parliamentary elections on 2 December 2007, and the presidential elections on 2 March 2008. Although Russia invited ODIHR to engage in limited monitoring of the Duma elections, when ODIHR requested visas to send 20 experts on 7 November and 50 additional observers on 15 November entry visas were denied. This request involved considerably fewer outside observers than the 500 participants from 42 countries who had been invited to observe the 2003 Russian parliamentary elections. ODIHR concluded that Russia appeared to be unwilling to receive their observers in a timely and cooperative manner, so, in the words of ODIHR’s Director, Ambassador Christian Strohal of Austria, these delays and restrictions meant that ‘ODIHR would be unable to deliver its mandate’ (OSCE press release, 2007). After this decision, Russia refused for a time to accept an ODIHR planning mission that would have arrived later in December to prepare for the March 2008 presidential election. Finally, on 28 January 2008, the Russian government invited ODIHR some five weeks prior to the scheduled election, but restricted the composition of the monitoring team and the duration of its deployment, especially during the runup to the actual voting, a standard part of the ODIHR observation process. ODIHR then notified the Russian election commission of its requirement for a minimal observation mission, and the commission replied that it

262 IGOs and Non-State Actors, Russia and Eurasia

was unable to meet those conditions and visas were denied to members of ODIHR’s advance team. Apparently the government in Moscow was prepared only to grant ODIHR access to Russia three days prior to the 2 March election, and only 70 observers would be accredited, in clear contrast to some 800 observers invited to the 1994 presidential election that re-elected Boris Yeltsin to a second term. Given Russia’s refusal to provide access prior to the actual voting, ODIHR Director Strohal observed that the ‘Russian Federation has created limitations that are not conducive to undertaking election observation’. He concluded that he hoped that ‘Russian authorities can find their way back to unimpeded co-operation with ODIHR and its long-established election observation mandate’ (OSCE/ODIHR, 2008). Russian Foreign Minister Sergei Lavrov responded by criticising ODIHR for ‘inventing its own rules’ and being ‘absolutely non-transparent’ (RIA Novosti, 2008). Konstantin Kosachyov, head of the State Duma’s International Affairs Committee, criticised ODIHR for ‘seeking a pretext to create another scandal . . . out of nothing’ (RIA Novosti, 2008). In short, ODIHR’s election monitoring, highly valued and respected in the West, has come under general attack from Russian authorities, who accuse it of attempting to interfere in the internal affairs of participating states in direct contradiction to the sixth principle of the 1975 Helsinki Decalogue. By so doing, they have tried to turn the clock back before the 1991 Moscow Declaration and other similar documents signed as the Cold War came to an end, which in effect acknowledged that the OSCE collectively could override this principle of non-interference when participating states had wilfully agreed to give authority to OSCE institutions to monitor their performance in fulfilling their ‘human dimension’ obligations. In short, Russia has tried to reassert the absolute primacy of state sovereignty in contrast to the OSCE norms that arose after 1990, which acknowledge that states may negotiate away some of their sovereignty in exchange for guarantees of human and state security that come from international transparency, democracy, and rule of law. In many ways, this reversion to an earlier conception of the centrality of state sovereignty lies at the heart of recent Russian frustrations, not only with the OSCE, but with many other international institutions as well. The Russian response has thus advocated a ‘rebalancing’ of the three OSCE baskets, away from the predominance of the third basket and its human dimension provisions back towards the first basket’s emphasis on state security. In broad terms, their views are in line with a traditional realist, state-centric view of international relations and appear to repudiate more recent conceptions of ‘human security’ and other non-state-centric models of international cooperation. The final specific issue that has increased tensions between Russia and the OSCE was the war in Georgia in 2008, where Russia repudiated OSCE’s involvement in what it considers to be its ‘near abroad’. The war originated in a conflict between the central government of Georgia and the

P. Terrence Hopmann 263

secessionist region of South Ossetia in the southern Caucasus, bordered on the northern slopes of the Caucasus by the Russian region of North Ossetia. Following the de facto independence of South Ossetia after a brief war that ended in 1992, the OSCE mission in Tbilisi was charged with mediating an agreement between the central government and the South Ossetian leaders. After more than 15 years of inconclusive negotiations and following demonstrations in the South Ossetian capital of Tskhinvali, however, the government of Georgia initiated military action in South Ossetia in August 2008, leading to an immediate reaction by Russian troops who entered the region through the Roki Tunnel that connected South and North Ossetia. Ironically, in contrast to the public reaction of most Western media and many Western governments, the OSCE Mission in Georgia did not place immediate responsibility for the outbreak of the war on Russia. Quite to the contrary, the small OSCE field office in Tskhinvali reported coming under heavy fire from Georgian forces on 7 August 2008, forcing them to take cover, apparently prior to the entry of additional Russian troops into South Ossetia. Although the Georgians contended that Russian troops had entered the region beyond the allotted numbers of peacekeepers agreed to by all sides in 1992, there is no independent confirmation of this claim. According to The New York Times, OSCE monitors on the ground reported extensive shelling of Tskhinvali, causing casualties to civilians and to Russian peacekeeping forces. Furthermore, the OSCE monitors were unable to confirm any attacks prior to that time upon Georgian villages, as claimed by Georgia’s president, Mikheil Saakashvili (Chivers and Barry, 2008, pp. A1, A8). In fact, OSCE officials, including the Finnish Chair-in-Office, Foreign Minister Alexander Stubb; Secretary General Marc Perrin de Brichambaut of France; the Director of the Conflict Prevention Centre, Herbert Salber of Germany, all tried to moderate the escalating tensions for weeks prior to the outbreak of overt violence. However, they received little support from either side, as both appeared to be seeking a pretext for a fight. Immediately before fighting broke out, the Chairman-in-Office had scheduled a meeting in Helsinki between Georgian and South Ossetian representatives for 7 August 2008, but the parties did not show up. Instead hostilities broke out that evening, including shelling by Georgian forces of the OSCE Mission premises in Tskhinvali. Following an emergency meeting of the OSCE Permanent Council on 8 August Foreign Minister Stubb, as OSCE Chair-inOffice, travelled to Tbilisi and Gori with French Foreign Minister Bernard Kouchner, in his capacity at the time as chair of the European Union, on 10–11 August; this was followed by a meeting with Russian Foreign Minister Sergey Lavrov in Moscow on 12 August to present the OSCE–EU peace plan to Russian authorities. On 15 August, Russian President Medvedev and French President Nicolas Sarkozy announced that Russia and Georgia had both accepted the terms of the cease-fire, which included a Russian

264 IGOs and Non-State Actors, Russia and Eurasia

commitment to withdraw to positions they held prior to the outbreak of fighting (International Crisis Group, 2009, pp. 2–3). On 19 August the OSCE Permanent Council authorised 100 additional OSCE Military Monitoring Officers to be sent to Georgia, including 20 unarmed monitors to be deployed in regions immediately adjacent to South Ossetia. However, even after they arrived in the field, consensus broke down in the Permanent Council over additional increases in the number of monitors, and even the original contingent was denied access to the areas where Russian troops were present. After a visit to the region in September, the High Commissioner on National Minorities, Knut Vollebaek of Norway, reported from meetings with displaced persons that the situation in South Ossetia and nearby areas under Russian control raised ‘serious concern’ (OSCE Magazine, 2008). In the aftermath of fighting, Russia refused to allow the OSCE monitors access to South Ossetia, although they were able to observe in adjacent regions after Russian troops began their gradual and delayed withdrawal. This violated the terms of the agreement between Presidents Sarkozy and Medvedev, which stated that the OSCE would be allowed to continue to fulfil its mandate in South Ossetia after the cease-fire went into effect (International Crisis Group, 2009, p. 13). On 26 August the Russian Federation recognised Abkhazia and South Ossetia as independent states, and immediately the OSCE Chair-in-Office condemned this action as a violation of fundamental OSCE principles, especially the Helsinki Decalogue commitment on behalf of maintaining the territorial integrity of states. This decision in effect isolated Russia within the OSCE, but also effectively led to the closing of the OSCE Mission in Georgia. When the issue of the extension of the mission’s mandate beyond 31 December 2008, arose in the Permanent Council, Russia refused to agree to a single mission to Georgia with a branch office in Tskhinvali. They insisted, since South Ossetia was now an independent state, that a mission to Georgia could not establish an office in a separate state; if a mission were to be created in South Ossetia, it would need to be a separate mission with its own mandate. Since only Nicaragua joined Russia in recognising South Ossetia as a sovereign and independent state, the other 55 OSCE participating states that had not extended recognition, including Russia’s closest allies within the OSCE such as Belarus, opposed such a configuration. The result was that the mission’s mandate was allowed to expire at the end of 2008. In early 2009, several efforts were made to revive the mission. Greek Foreign Minister Dora Bakoyannis, who became Chair-in-Office in 2009, proposed a compromise in which an OSCE ‘office’ would be created in Tbilisi, similar to offices in Baku and Yerevan, with a limited mandate; ‘status neutral’ monitors, with a mandate similar to that of the OSCE mission in Kosovo, would also be stationed in South Ossetia, but they would report directly to the Conflict Prevention Centre rather than to the OSCE mission’s office in Tbilisi, with coordination taking place in Vienna. However, this compromise

P. Terrence Hopmann 265

proposal also failed to garner Russian support, and the OSCE Mission in Georgia was completely closed by 30 June 2009; the United Nations offices in Tbilisi and in Abkhazia were also closed following a Russian veto of the extension of UNOMIG in the Security Council on 15 June 2009, leaving only EU monitors on the ground, restricted solely to territory under the control of the Georgian government. Talks on measures to enhance security in the region began in Geneva in October 2008, under UN, OSCE, and EU auspices, as prescribed in the cease-fire agreement, but they produced no immediate agreement, and South Ossetia has refused to participate in any talks due to the refusal of all three organisations to extend it recognition as an independent state (OSCE Magazine, 2008, pp. 6–13). In short, Russian actions in Georgia have driven the greatest wedge between OSCE participating states since the time of the Soviet intervention in Afghanistan in December 1979. Russia’s decision to increase the number of troops in South Ossetia and Georgia and to fortify bases there has met with universal condemnation in the OSCE, as have Russia’s and South Ossetia’s alleged violations of human rights and their refusal to address the problems of large numbers of internally displaced persons as a consequence of the August 2008 conflict. These actions provide the clearest indication to date of the Russian effort to place its immediate and unilateral national security interests in its ‘near abroad’ above its interest in multilateral security cooperation within the extended European and Eurasian region.

Conclusion: The future for European multilateral security cooperation Russia has placed the future of transcontinental security cooperation in doubt over the first decade of the twenty-first century, culminating with the war between Russia and Georgia in 2008 and the increased tension between Russia and its partners in the OSCE and the UN that has resulted from this conflict throughout 2009. At the same time, most other states in the area recognise that security in the region cannot be sustained unless Russia is somehow brought back into full engagement with multilateral, cooperative security institutions. Indeed, President Medvedev’s Berlin proposal on 5 June 2008, to create a new European security structure has become a centrepiece in the ongoing debate about how Russia might be reintegrated into a more cooperative regime to promote security throughout the region. Medvedev’s Berlin speech made only passing reference to the OSCE, referring to his proposal as the ‘next step’ following the Helsinki Final Act, curiously ignoring the full set of subsequent documents that formed the OSCE acquis by 2008. He thus proposed negotiating a ‘legally binding treaty on European security in which organisations currently working in the Euro-Atlantic area could become parties’ (Medvedev, 2008). Nonetheless, the thrust of the proposal seemed to be directed at correcting the many faults that the Russian regime

266 IGOs and Non-State Actors, Russia and Eurasia

had found with the OSCE in the preceding decade. The main outlines of the proposal remained general and vague. Medvedev nonetheless reiterated his proposal at a meeting in Evian, France, in October 2008, receiving the general endorsement of French President Sarkozy for his plan to negotiate a new pan-European security treaty. The main thrust of the Medvedev plan places European security on a legal basis, which would entail reaffirmation of the principles upon which the Helsinki Final Act was based, especially respect for state sovereignty, non-interference in the domestic affairs of states, and the right to pursue a foreign policy of non-alignment. It also stresses additional measures of conventional arms control, adoption of ‘nonaggressive defense’ postures, and joint responses to common threats such as terrorism and drug trafficking (Kovalenko, 2009). Medvedev clearly envisages European security being based upon a classical concert of the major powers that would focus on ‘hard’ security issues rather than on human dimension issues such as democratisation and human rights. At Evian, Medvedev stressed that the new treaty would ensure that no state’s security would come ‘at the expense of others’, that no action should ‘undermine the unity of the common security space’, and most importantly that no military alliance ‘would threaten the security of other parties of the Treaty’ (cited in Lynch, 2008). Initial reactions to the Medvedev proposal at the OSCE Ministerial Conference in Helsinki in December 2008 were generally unenthusiastic. Most participating states argued that the legitimate objectives of Medvedev’s proposal could best be realised through a strengthened OSCE rather than through the addition of yet another institution to the European security landscape. Some support was evidenced for placing the OSCE on a stronger legal footing, but this had been an issue of debate within the OSCE for almost two decades. At Russia’s urging, the Greek OSCE chairmanship called for a special, informal ministerial meeting that was held on the Greek island of Corfu, in conjunction with a meeting of the NATO–Russia Council, on 27–28 June 2009. The Greeks indicated that this meeting would serve as the foundation for the ‘Corfu process’, a series of informal meetings to discuss approaches to strengthen the European security framework. However, the concluding statement of the Chair-in-Office, Foreign Minister Bakoyannis, seemed to reaffirm the broad consensus that the OSCE remained the logical framework for conducting this dialogue, because it is the ‘only regional Organisation bringing together all States from Vancouver to Vladivostok on an equal basis. It is also the Organisation in the framework of which the 56 states have agreed on specific principles and undertaken concrete commitments for building a Europe whole, free and in peace’ (OSCE, Corfu Informal Meeting, 2009, p. 3). Bakoyannis went on to note that the security agenda facing the region deserved increased attention, but that this should take place within the framework of OSCE principles and norms. She proposed that future meetings develop a more structured and

P. Terrence Hopmann 267

focused dialogue. She concluded: ‘The Helsinki Final Act and subsequent OSCE documents will remain the foundation stones for security in the OSCE area. The participating States see no alternative to the restoration of the concept of indivisible, co-operative and comprehensive security, enshrined in the OSCE documents to which they have all subscribed’ (OSCE, Corfu Informal Meeting, 2009, p. 3). In so doing, she seemed to give rhetorical support to the Russian focus on ‘indivisible security’, while also stressing the consensus of other OSCE participating states that the OSCE remained the best institutional framework within which to take up the Medvedev proposal. This point was also affirmed by the previous Chair-in-Office, Foreign Minister Alexander Stubb of Finland: ‘I think the message is that we don’t need new structures. We need to reaffirm and strengthen the current structures and for me that means strengthening the OSCE’ (France 24, 2009). While agreeing to continue the dialogue within the OSCE framework, Russian Foreign Minister Lavrov stressed, regarding the situation in Georgia, that ‘everyone should accept the new realities on the ground. Our decisions taken after the war begun by Georgia are irreversible’ (cited in Feifer, 2009). The ‘Corfu process’ was further advanced when Kazakhstan assumed the chairmanship of the OSCE in 2010, the first time this office has been held by a Central Asian state, reflecting acceptance by Western states of leadership for the OSCE by a state located ‘east of Vienna’. It thus remains unclear, however, whether the ‘Corfu process’ will provide a framework within which Russia can reintegrate itself into the OSCE mainstream. Since the most important institutional ‘comparative advantage’ of the OSCE is, and always has been, the comprehensive participation of all states in the region, further distancing of Russia from the OSCE could strike a serious blow to the very viability of the OSCE itself. However, in the absence of some kind of rapprochement between Russia and the US, along with the EU, it will be difficult to find a formula for a new security architecture that truly responds to Russia’s concerns. Clearly the dialogue between US President Obama, Russian President Medvedev, and leaders of the major EU states must be a high priority in the immediate future, and multilateral negotiations should be reopened in Vienna on conventional arms control and enhanced confidence-building measures in order to create a more favourable international environment for strengthening European security institutions. At the same time it is less clear whether Russia’s unilateral reassertion of its global role and its protective interest in its ‘near abroad’ represents a longterm trend in Russian policy or a short-term reaction to the rapid, turbulent, and often traumatic change that took place after 1989. The surest way to reinforce the former trend, however, would be to isolate Russia further from European security structures. Therefore, NATO’s eastward enlargement must be approached with considerable caution and diplomatic skill, with particular attention to addressing Russian fears of NATO encirclement without giving it a veto over the enlargement process; provocative

268 IGOs and Non-State Actors, Russia and Eurasia

military deployments and especially unilateral military actions that could readily be perceived by Russian leaders as directed against their security interests must be avoided by all parties in order to re-establish mutual confidence. Within an improved overall climate of relations between Russia and its Western partners, reinvigorating the OSCE should not prove to be excessively difficult, in which case some of the Medvedev proposals could readily be integrated into a ‘Helsinki +’ formulation. In the absence of such a cooperative atmosphere, however, relations between Russia and the vast majority of other OSCE participating states are likely to remain tense and potentially dangerous for some time to come, and the post-Cold War European security structure will inevitably become more fragile as a result.

Notes 1. Note that only about 50 per cent of the final text could be traced back to its original author. 2. The text of the Helsinki Final Act may be found at http://www.osce.org/documents/ mcs/1975/08/4044_en.pdf (accessed on 7 July 2010). 3. The conceptual framework of the ‘common European home’ is developed by Bezrukov and Davidov (1991). 4. At the time of this writing in early 2010, no summit of heads of state has been scheduled by the OSCE since the 1999 Istanbul meeting, and annual meetings beginning in 2000 have all been at the level of foreign ministers or their representatives. 5. ODIHR did not monitor the widely disputed US presidential election in November 2000. However, the unorthodox and extra-constitutional resolution of this election by a 5–4 vote of the Supreme Court led ODIHR to request observation of congressional elections in several states, especially Florida, beginning in 2002, and it has continued to monitor US national elections every two years since.

References Bezrukov, Mikhail and Yuriy Davidov (1991). ‘The Common European Home and Mutual Security’, in Richard Smoke and Andrei Kortunov (eds) Mutual Security: A New Approach to Soviet–American Relations. New York: St Martin’s Press, pp. 152–60. Chivers, C. J. and Ellen Barry (2008). ‘Accounts Undercut Claims by Georgia on Russia War’, The New York Times, 7 November, pp. A1 & A8. Conference on Security and Cooperation in Europe (1989). Concluding Document of the Vienna Meeting 1986 of Representatives of the Participating States of the Conference on Security and Co-Operation in Europe, held on the basis of the provisions of the Final Act relating to the follow-up to the Conference, Vienna. Conference on Security and Cooperation in Europe (1990). Charter of Paris for a New Europe, Paris, 19–21 November, p. 9. Available at http://www.osce.org/documents/ mcs/1990/11/4045_en.pdf (accessed 8 July 2010). Conference on Security and Cooperation in Europe (1991). Document of the Moscow Meeting of the Conference on the Human Dimension of the CSCE, Moscow, 3 October. Available at http://www.osce.org/documents/odihr/1991/10/13995_en.pdf (accessed 8 July 2010).

P. Terrence Hopmann 269 CSCE Committee of the Whole (1992). ‘Helsinki Decisions’, 7 July. Available at http:// www.osce.org/documents/mcs/1992/07/4048_en.pdf (accessed 8 July 2010). Davidov, Yuri (1996). ‘Russia: Policy Analysis and Options’, in Richard Smoke (ed.) Perceptions of Security: Public Opinion and Expert Assessments in Europe’s New Democracies. Manchester: Manchester University Press. Dean, Jonathan (1987). Watershed in Europe: Dismantling the East–West Military Confrontation. Lexington, MA: Lexington Books. Feifer, Gregory (2009). ‘Friction Feeds Fear of New Russia–Georgia Conflict’, Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty, 29 June. Available at http://www.rferl.org/articleprintview/ 1765258.html (accessed 8 July 2010). France 24 (2009). ‘OSCE Powers Agree to European Security Debate’, 28 June. Available at http://www.france24.com/en/20090628-osce-debate-european-security-corfu-greece (accessed 15 November 2009). Hopmann, P. Terrence (1978). ‘Asymmetrical Bargaining in the Conference on Security and Cooperation in Europe’, International Organization, vol. 32, no. 1. Hopmann, P. Terrence (1999). Building Security in Post-Cold War Eurasia: The OSCE and U.S. Foreign Policy. Washington, DC: United States Institute of Peace, Peaceworks 31. International Crisis Group (2009). ‘Georgia–Russia: Still Insecure and Dangerous’, Europe Briefing 53, 22 June, pp. 2–3. Judah, Tim (2002). Kosovo: War and Revenge, 2nd edn. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. Kovalenko, Natalya (2009). ‘OSCE to Discuss Russia’s Proposal for European Security Pact’, RUVR Broadcasting. Available at http://ruvr.ru/main.php?lng=eng&q=47400 &cid=58&p=29.06.2009&pn=3 (accessed 8 July 2010). Lehne, Stefan (1991). The Vienna Meeting of the Conference on Security and Cooperation in Europe, 1986–1989. Boulder, CO: Westview Press. Lynch, Dov (2000). ‘Russia and the Organisation for Security and Cooperation in Europe’, in Mark Webber (ed.) Russia and Europe: Conflict or Cooperation. London: Palgrave Macmillan. Lynch, Dov (2008). ‘Russia and the Contours of European Security: Towards a Helsinki +’, paper delivered at St Anthony’s College, Oxford, 27 October. Medvedev, Dmitry (2008). Speech at a meeting with German political, parliamentary and civic leaders, Berlin, 5 June. Available at http://www.ln.mid.ru/brp_4.nsf/0/ C080DC2FF8D93629C3257460003496C4 (accessed 8 July 2010). Office of Democratic Institutions and Human Rights (2000). Final Report, Russian Federation, Presidential Election, 26 March, p. 3. Available at http://www.osce. org/odihr-elections/documents.html?lsi=true&src=6&grp=231&limit=10&pos=10 (accessed 8 July 2010). Office of Democratic Institutions and Human Rights (2003). International Election Observation Mission, Parliamentary Elections, Georgia – 2 November 2003, ‘Statement of Preliminary Findings and Conclusions’, 3 November. Available at http://www.osce. org/documents/odihr/2003/11/1031_en.pdf (accessed 8 July 2010). Office of Democratic Institutions and Human Rights (2004a). International Election Observation Mission, Presidential Election (Second Round), Ukraine – 21 November 2004, ‘Statement of Preliminary Findings and Conclusions’, Kyiv, 22 November, pp. 1–2. Available at http://www.osce.org/documents/odihr/2004/11/3811_en.pdf (accessed 8 July 2010). Office of Democratic Institutions and Human Rights (2004b). ‘Election Observations Mission, United States of America, 2 November 2004 Elections’, 4 November. Available at http://www.osce.org/documents/odihr/2004/11/3779_en.pdf (accessed 8 July 2010).

270 IGOs and Non-State Actors, Russia and Eurasia OSCE (1999). ‘Istanbul Summit Declaration’, pp. 46–54. Available at www.osce.org/ documents/mcs/1999/11/4050_en.pdf (accessed 8 July 2010). OSCE (2009). Corfu Informal Meeting of OSCE Foreign Ministers on the Future of European Security, ‘Chair’s Concluding Statement to the Press’, 28 June, p. 3. OSCE Magazine (2008). ‘Diplomatic Journal: Georgian Crisis Dominates Agenda of Finnish Chairmanship’, no. 3/2008, October–November, pp. 6–13. OSCE press release (2007). 16 November. Available at http://www.osce.org/ publications/sg/2008/09/33333_1188_en.pdf (accessed 8 July 2010). OSCE/ODIHR (2008). ‘OSCE/ODIHR Regrets that Restrictions Force Cancellation of Election Observation Mission to Russian Federation’, Warsaw, 7 February. Available at www.osce.org/item/29599.html (accessed 8 July 2010). Primakov, Yuri (1996). ‘The World on the Eve of the 21st Century’, International Affairs (Moscow), vol. 42, nos 5–6, pp. 2–14. RIA Novosti (2008). Moscow, ‘OSCE Election Watchdog to Boycott Russian Polls – Tensions Rise’, 7 February. Available at http://en.rian.ru/russia/20080207/98680172. html (accessed 8 July 2010). Thomas, Daniel (2001). The Helsinki Effect: International Norms, Human Rights, and the Demise of Communism. Princeton: Princeton University Press. US Commission on Security and Cooperation in Europe (1990). ‘Document of the Copenhagen Meeting of the Conference on the Human Dimension of the CSCE’. Washington, DC: June. Yost, David S. (1998). NATO Transformed: The Alliance’s New Role in International Security. Washington, DC: US Institute of Peace Press.

12 Strategic Resources, Strategic Players: The Role of National versus International Oil Companies in Post-Soviet Eurasia Heidi Kjærnet

Introduction Azerbaijan, Kazakhstan, and Russia all have ambitions to be leading energy suppliers and play key roles in international energy security. This makes the petroleum sector something more than just an important economic sector for them. Indeed, it plays a decisive role for their international standing. The international oil companies (IOCs) are important external players in these states because of the technology and the investments that they can provide. Today, however, we see an interesting process taking place in Kazakhstan and Russia, in which the role of the IOCs is being redefined and challenged as a result of more assertive policies from the host governments. The national oil and gas companies (NOCs) emerge as increasingly important actors in all three states, although in Azerbaijan, the role of the IOCs has not been challenged in the same way as in the other two. This chapter provides an account of the policy choices these three states have made with regard to balancing foreign involvement in petroleum development with national control of the region’s strategic resources. It analyses the dynamic processes involved in the way these states relate to their respective national petroleum companies at the expense of the role played by IOCs. Business and high politics are closely intertwined in several post-Soviet states (see Hanson and Teague, 2005; Alieva and Torjesen, 2007; Kjærnet, Torjesen, and Satpaev, 2008). IOCs and NOCs alike seem to have a political significance. We will see that host governments expect different things from IOCs than they do from their own NOCs. Understanding the dynamic process of cooperation between government authorities and IOCs, as well as the existence of NOCs, is crucial for our comprehension not only of the petroleum sector at the regional level, but of the region’s relations with the outside world. The chapter proceeds as follows. First, I briefly draw on the literature on NOCs before covering Azerbaijan, Kazakhstan, and Russia, in turn. 271

272 Strategic Resources, Strategic Players

Each country-level section will compare the role played by the IOCs with the role played by these countries’ respective NOCs: Azerbaijan’s SOCAR, Kazakhstan’s Kazmunaigaz, and Russia’s Gazprom. The key question in these case studies is how the respective governments have balanced the need for foreign investment and technology with domestic considerations, such as the need to create employment, the desire to secure national control over strategic resources and the pursuit of legitimacy in terms of popular views on the petroleum sector development. In the concluding section, I discuss the dynamics of how states in Eurasia relate to both NOCs and IOCs and point to directions for further research.

National oil companies In this chapter, the term ‘IOC’ is used to denote the oil and gas companies that have operations spanning the globe (Victor, 2007, p. 2, fn. 2), while ‘national oil company’ (NOC) is used about oil and gas companies that are more than 50 per cent state-owned.1 These definitions are not mutually exclusive. For the purposes of this chapter, however, it is not necessary to distinguish between Western state-owned companies that have operations in the countries in question (such as Norwegian state-owned Statoil) and privately held IOCs (like ExxonMobil). Rather, the separating line is drawn between domestic NOCs and foreign companies. NOCs are on the rise internationally. Estimates vary, but approximately 77 per cent of proven world oil reserves are under the control of NOCs. Of the top 20 oil-producing companies in the world, 14 are NOCs or newly privatised NOCs ( Jaffe and Soligo, 2007, p. 1). Measured by reserves, the ten largest upstream companies in the world are all NOCs, such as Saudi Aramco, the National Iranian Oil Company, and Qatar Petroleum (Victor, 2007, p. 5). The establishment of national oil companies has served different goals, in different historical contexts. As an example, the creation of Mexican PEMEX in 1938 came as a result of the first ever expropriation of foreign oil companies’ assets when the country’s president sided with the oil workers in a long-lasting strike. In South America oil nationalisation has in several countries come as a result of popular mobilisation for increased state control with the oil industry. In Norway, which is often characterised as the poster child for good management of the oil sector, Statoil was created in 1972 with the stated aim of building national capacity to avoid dependence on foreign companies in the development of North Sea oil. The 1970s became the prime decade for the foundation of NOCs, as a result of a series of events (the foundation of OPEC, the Organisation of Petroleum Exporting Countries, and the Arab oil embargo on the West in 1973 in connection with the Arab–Israeli conflict) in the international oil industry, which amounted to a power shift in the relationship between the foreign company and the host country (Falola and Genova, 2005, pp. 63–71).

Heidi Kjærnet 273

This increased the international concern for supply security, which in turn led to an increase in the number of NOCs worldwide, in developing countries and OECD countries alike. Arguments for founding NOCs worldwide have ranged from ideological views on the role of the state in the economy to the desire for sovereignty and economic nationalism resulting from bad experiences with international oil companies and fear of reliance on foreign investments (Stevens, 2004). The purpose of state participation in the oil industry is not only to capture economic rent, but often also to achieve policy objectives such as supply security or gaining industrial competence through building a national industrial cluster (Noreng, 1995, p. 198). Equally important are goals such as national pride and unity, especially in countries that grapple with a colonial past (Falola and Genova, 2005, p. 57). What can be these companies’ strongest asset, namely their strong relationship to their home government, is frequently also their main liability. The dual instrumental purpose related to both profit and nonprofit goals is at the core of the management problems related to NOCs, and these companies score poorly on commercial efficiency (McPherson, 2003, pp. 187–9; Victor, 2007, pp. 10–20). An important reason for this is the lack of competition. NOCs have been expected to extract the technical and managerial skills from IOCs and thus counterbalance their local influence, or even replace them altogether (McPherson, 2003, pp. 184–7). Further, NOCs are generally expected to promote local capacity and content in the petroleum sector through employment policies and procurement of goods and services for the oil and gas operations. This involves a risk of encouraging clientelism or rent-seeking in the local economy (McPherson, 2003, p. 194). Transparency is also a key issue, as NOCs rarely face pressure to be transparent in their operations, and accountability and commercial oversight are lacking (McPherson, 2003, p. 190). In large part because of these inefficiencies the establishment of NOCs is often counterproductive. Despite the close ties that often exist between NOCs and governments, national enterprises do not necessarily act as passive objects of government control, but as independent agents that tend actively to seek autonomy. When the management of NOCs starts aligning with the goals of the private sector and the non-commercial goals receive less priority, the long-term outcome of establishing a national oil company may differ significantly from initial intentions (Noreng, 1995, p. 198). The business logic of IOCs is part of the dynamic process that in many cases spurs states to form national oil companies. IOCs resist the idea of building a successful industry and having to transfer the knowledge and skills that made it possible, thus eroding their own competitive advantages (Falola and Genova, 2005, p. 60). This very resistance to technology transfer and sharing skills creates grounds for disgruntlement with the oil business among national leaders or oppositional forces in oil-producing countries. This again can create driving forces for the creation of NOCs as vehicles to

274 Strategic Resources, Strategic Players

secure technology transfer, local employment, and national control with the development of resources. The focus on corporate social responsibility (CSR) obligations for IOCs is, however, making it necessary for IOCs to deal with employment and other social issues outside the scope of oil development that preoccupy many NOCs (Wainberg and Foss, 2007). It does not, however, seem that the global focus on CSR commitments will be enough to pre-empt the impetus for governments to set up national oil companies.

NOCs and IOCs in post-Soviet Eurasia A basic hypothesis in the literature on NOCs is that ‘the relationship between national oil companies and their government owners is dynamic and conflictual because the driving forces of the former contrast with the static objectives of the latter’ (Noreng, 1995, p. 199). This hypothesis seems to be at odds with what is assumed to be the case with the state-controlled petroleum companies in the post-Soviet area, which are generally perceived to act in accordance with the desires of their state owners. There might be several explanations for this alignment or loyalty of the NOCs with their government owners, but this discussion falls outside the scope of this chapter. Post-Soviet states share some characteristics that make the study of post-Soviet NOCs particularly interesting. First of all, the Soviet past with regard to the role of the state in the economy is a historical factor that shapes the perceptions of policymakers in the post-Soviet space. Today, we see that some of the liberal policies that were pursued in the early 1990s have been discredited, and there is a tendency for post-Soviet states to reclaim control over what is perceived as strategic economic sectors. Energy resources, particularly oil and gas, are defined as strategic resources that require increased state control (see Ministry of Energy of the Russian Federation, 2003). The energy-rich post-Soviet states also share some characteristics in the way they relate to foreign partners in the energy sector. All three countries in question – Azerbaijan, Kazakhstan, and Russia – have ambitions to be leading energy suppliers and to play key roles for international energy security. There has been a strong interest in the energy resources of both Russia and the countries in the Caspian region. This has necessitated a process of determining the role of international players versus domestic private and state interests in the petroleum sector. The following sections will survey the role of the international oil industry and the national oil companies in Azerbaijan, Kazakhstan, and Russia respectively.

Azerbaijan In newly independent Azerbaijan the consolidation of power and statebuilding were closely interrelated with foreign policy strategies (Alieva, 2000,

Heidi Kjærnet 275

p. 11). Stability, even if provided by authoritarian leaders, has been a chief concern of the foreign investors in order to safeguard Western economic interests in the country (Ergun, 2003, p. 639). For Azerbaijan securing economic development has been an important step towards securing sovereignty after the dissolution of the Soviet Union. With petroleum revenues accounting for 59 per cent of its total revenues in 2007 (EIA, 2007), the petroleum sector is paramount not only to the economy, but to regime stability. International oil companies have taken part in petroleum development in Azerbaijan since the early days of independence, and two events in particular in the country’s petroleum development mark the Western turn in Azerbaijani foreign policy after the break-up of the Soviet Union: the signing of the so-called Contract of the Century to develop and produce the oil from the Azeri–Chirag–Guneshli fields in the Caspian Sea in 1994 with an international consortium, and the construction of the BTC (Baku– Tbilisi–Ceyhan) pipeline transporting oil from Baku to Ceyhan in Turkey by a BP-led consortium, which broke the Russian monopoly on transport of energy resources from the Caspian region. More recently we see Azerbaijan assuming a role as a regional energy power in the South Caucasus, providing Georgia with cheap gas after the latter’s gas conflicts with Russia (see Kjærnet, 2007, 2010). Apart from the issues regarding transportation of resources, and how the pipelines demonstrate a Western turn in Azerbaijani foreign policy, the international oil industry also has a role in domestic developments in the country, although this is more difficult to assess. This role is both political (in terms of how the presence of IOCs means a larger Western presence) and economic (with regard to how IOCs contribute to the overall economic development of the country). I turn first to the political role of IOCs. The opposition in Azerbaijan has had hopes that the presence of international oil companies in Baku would advance democracy and human rights in the country (Heradstveit, 2001, p. 106). This expectation is also being voiced among international human rights activists, some of whom claim that the international oil companies can do more than diplomats in promoting democracy and human rights (see Meland, 2005; NTB, 2007; Giæver, 2008). Statoil, the Norwegian oil and gas company, which is the second largest foreign investor in Azerbaijan after BP, claims that its presence promotes democracy awareness indirectly, through the way it runs its business in the country (press spokesman Kai Nilsen, quoted in Aale, 2006). Presumably the Norwegian company culture disseminates democratic values. The company, however, maintains that its biggest contribution to development is the extended social and economic effects of its presence (NTB, 2007). Indeed, the international companies as part of their CSR work have provided financial support for NGOs engaged in human rights or democracy training. The IOCs are, however, unlikely to go into sensitive issues

276 Strategic Resources, Strategic Players

with the potential to harm business activity, partly because of the limits on how far a company should involve itself in the actual political and governmental affairs of a sovereign country, but perhaps most importantly due to self-interest. The oil companies do not want to jeopardise their investments (Gulbrandsen and Moe, 2007, p. 820). In an interview with the author, a representative of Statoil’s CSR programme in Azerbaijan argued that the programmes that the company ran targeting the internally displaced communities reduced the risk of their causing instability and thus safeguarded the company’s investments,2 clearly indicating self-interest as an important driving force for the CSR agenda. Similar concerns of self-interest are no doubt a general trait of the CSR agenda for oil companies desiring to protect their investments. The economic part of the CSR agenda in countries like Azerbaijan includes the development of local enterprises as part of the oil sector development, and the integration of local enterprises with the global oil industry. The commitments of the international oil companies to the Azerbaijani government are defined in the production-sharing agreements (PSAs) between the government and the companies involved in petroleum extraction. PSAs have served as the main tool for attracting foreign investment into the oil and gas sector in Azerbaijan. In a standard PSA agreement for oil and gas, the state retains ownership of the resources and the investors bear responsibility for extracting them. Investors normally receive the majority of early revenue, known as cost oil, as compensation for the cost of exploration and development. When the project costs are recovered, subsequent revenue, known as profit oil, is shared between investors and the state according to a pre-negotiated formula (Krysiek, 2007, p. 2). Once signed, these agreements are ratified by parliament and have the force of law (Wakeman-Linn, Mathieu, and van Selm, 2003, p. 342). The PSAs set minimum requirements for the use of Azerbaijani labour, training of locals, the use of suppliers, and transfer of technical competence. However, the way these requirements are set has been found to be too flexible to provide a strong tool for the government vis-à-vis the international companies (Solli, 2005, pp. 48–9). The PSA stipulates that Azerbaijani suppliers shall be given preference in cases where they are competitive in price, quality, and availability with other suppliers (SOCAR, AMOCO Caspian Sea Petroleum Limited, BP Exploration Caspian Sea Limited, Delta Nimir Khazar Limited, Den norske stats oljeselskap a.s, Lukoil Joint Stock Company, McDermott Azerbaijan Inc., Pennzoil Caspian Corporation, Ramco Hazar Energy Limited, Turkiye Petrolleri A.O. and UNOCAL Khazar Ltd, 1994, p. 122). According to the agreement, however, ‘Azerbaijani suppliers’ can mean all enterprises registered in the country, regardless of ownership. In reality, because of the expectations by the IOCs that local suppliers fall short on competence, the lack of understanding of each other’s technical standards, and the local entrepreneurs’ lack of investment capital, the local

Heidi Kjærnet 277

supply companies are rarely viewed as competitive (Solli, 2005, pp. 109–12). Owing to institutional weaknesses within the Azerbaijani state, it has been left up to the internationals to define important issues relating to ‘local content’, thereby imbuing the IOCs with definitional power. This is part of the reason why the oil sector largely functions as an isolated economic sector in Azerbaijan, and the IOCs are only to a limited extent integrated with the local economy. The state oil company SOCAR is working together with the IOCs in Azerbaijan. The company was established in 1992 as a merger of Azerneft and Azneftkimiya, two companies with historical roots in the Azerbaijani Soviet Socialist Republic. SOCAR is the national partner to the IOCs in all the PSAs that exist between Azerbaijan and foreign partners. As such it has a 25 per cent stake in the BTC oil pipeline and in the South Caucasus gas Pipeline (SCP), and it is partner to over 20 PSAs (Energy Information Administration, 2007). Some of the PSAs have been abandoned because of unsatisfactory drilling results. SOCAR manages the production and sale of oil and gas from the old Soviet-era fields in Azerbaijan. These make up a small share of the country’s total oil and gas production and exports, and SOCAR’s output has been declining by around 1 per cent a year. Eighty per cent of the country’s oil output in 2007 came from the Azerbaijani International Oil Consortium’s (AIOC) fields (see Wakeman-Linn, Mathieu, and van Selm, 2003, pp. 341–2). SOCAR’s share in PSAs is increasing. While the company’s share in AIOC, the first PSA signed in Azerbaijan, was 10 per cent, the company’s share in more recent PSAs is generally between 20 and 50 per cent (see Wakeman-Linn, Mathieu, and van Selm, 2003, pp. 341–2; Energy Information Administration, 2007, p. 2). SOCAR’s employment policies are a striking example of the company’s challenges with regard to economic efficiency: whereas SOCAR has 70,000 employees and produces 150,000 bbl/d, Statoil has 29,500 employees and produces 1.7 million bbl/d. SOCAR also provides employees with flats, preferential summer vouchers, kindergartens, and runs a hospital for its employees (The World Bank Group and The Center for Energy Economics/ Bureau of Economic Geology, 2008; Gahramanli, 2009, p. annex 151). Even though the petroleum sector revenues make up 59 per cent of total revenues, this economic sector only creates a limited number of jobs, and the unemployment rates in Azerbaijan are high. In a context where the government is seeking legitimacy through increased employment rates, SOCAR’s employment policies could be an indication that the company is taking on social responsibilities to alleviate the pressure on government. It could, however, also be the case that the size of the company is not a conscious strategy, but rather a result of its functioning like an expanding bureaucratic structure lacking strategies and control of employment policies. In any case, the employment policies are one important reason for the company’s poor economic efficiency.

278 Strategic Resources, Strategic Players

Azerbaijan is generally thought to be one of the most corrupt countries in the world (it is in 158th place of 180 countries surveyed in Transparency International, 2008), but at the same time Azerbaijan was the first country to become validated as a compliant country by the Extractive Industries’ Transparency Initiative (EITI) in February 2009 (Coffey International Development, IPAN and PKF, 2009). While addressing corruption would require political will combined with the building of an independent judiciary and free media, complying with EITI standards only requires that the tax payments in the petroleum sector are audited. This does not mean that there is not room for corruption in other parts of the value chain in the petroleum sector. Also, there have been reports that SOCAR, despite its validation by EITI, has entered into PSAs with Russian companies registered in the Virgin Islands in processes taking place ‘behind the curtain’ (Azerbaijan Business Centre, 2009). Even though PSAs are not a part of the EITI agenda, the shady deals only contribute to making the government’s commitment to transparency look like lip service. Overall, Azerbaijan is the country in this study that has been the most committed and consistent in its opening up to the international oil industry. Although there are signs that SOCAR is receiving favourable treatment in the awarding of contracts, the government has not gone down the road of curtailing the presence of IOCs in the country, as we will see both Kazakhstan and Russia have done.

Kazakhstan Kazakhstan has pursued a multi-vector foreign policy, and the link between oil and gas development and the country’s foreign policy has been quite clear (see Ipek, 2007; Overland and Torjesen, 2010). In the early transition period President Nursultan Nazarbayev turned to the major Western oil companies, which possessed both the capital and the technology needed to develop Kazakhstani oil. The main strategy was to diversify sources of funding to safeguard economic stability during the state-building process (Ipek, 2007, p. 1184). As Azerbaijan, Kazakhstan emerged from the Soviet Union with energy export routes going exclusively northwards to Russia. While both countries wanted to diversify pipeline routes, Kazakhstan’s long shared border with Russia and the sizeable Russian diaspora in the country meant that maintaining a good relationship with Russia was much more pressing for Kazakhstan. The goal of the multi-vector foreign policy was among other things to attract a diversity of foreign investors and diversify pipeline routes (Cummings, 2005, p. 3). As early as 1992, the Kazakhstani government signed two major energy deals: one with Chevron for the Tengiz oilfield, and another with British Gas and Agip for the Karachaganak gas field. In addition to the Western presence, Chinese investments have become prominent in the country’s petroleum industry, and an oil pipeline is being built

Heidi Kjærnet 279

from Atyrau to China’s Xinjiang region. More recently, however, the government has shifted in the direction of national control over the exploitation of national resources, causing uncertainties regarding Kazakhstan’s investment climate (see Nurmakov, 2010). Since 2004 the Kazakhstani government has gradually consolidated its power over foreign oil firms and in general pursued a policy line of resource nationalism aimed at consolidating the state’s control of the petroleum sector. The measures employed include amendments to the tax code, law amendments, a stricter regulation of the Kazakhstani content in petroleum extraction projects, and an increased oil export duty (Nurmakov, 2010). The most prominent example is the dispute with the international consortium set up to develop oil from Kashagan, an oil field located in the northern Caspian Sea. The international consortium headed by AgipKCO, a subsidiary of the Italian oil company Eni, faced trouble in 2007 when the Kazakhstani government refused to accept cost and schedule overruns on the project, and evoked environmental concerns over the project to pressure the consortium to gain a greater stake in the project (Cohen, 2008, pp. 153–4). Kazmunaigaz, as a result, increased its share in the project from 8.33 to 16.81 per cent. These policies clearly had the goal of correcting some of the weaknesses in the national legislation that had existed and were perceived to grant overly favourable conditions to IOCs. As the policies unfolded, however, they have increasingly been interpreted as an expansionary campaign in which the NOC, Kazmunaigaz, emerges as a winner (Kennedy, 2010). The nationalist policies have rolled back some of the profitable deals foreign oil firms were able to negotiate in the country’s early independence, thus creating an image of the government as defending their citizens against the IOCs. To the extent that it harms the investment climate, it could, however, become counterproductive as long as there is a need for foreign technology to develop Kazakhstan’s oil. Another example of the Kazakhstani government’s newfound assertiveness concerns the way it has been able to use the interest of multiple actors to bolster its international role (Kennedy, 2010). China has emerged as a potential new energy partner for the Central Asian state, and Kazakhstan and China share a mutual interest in developing exports – both for profit and for reasons of diversification (Kennedy, 2010). Western governments feared that Chinese investors would relegate them to the sidelines, securing for Kazakhstan the necessary capital while avoiding uncomfortable criticism about the lack of democratic reforms and poor human right standards that often comes with cooperation with the West. The reality is, however, that the Chinese companies have displayed an ability and willingness to overpay for resources, but they acquire assets which the Western companies have not been interested in (Kennedy, 2010). The Chinese investments have, however, contributed to strengthening the Kazakhstani bargaining power vis-à-vis other investors.

280 Strategic Resources, Strategic Players

In conjunction with regulatory policies that strengthen the role of the state in the petroleum sector, Chinese investments have therefore secured the interests of the Kazakhstani state in this important economic sector. As mentioned, the NOC Kazmunaigaz has emerged as a winner in this process. The company was founded in 2002 through the merger of Kazakhoil and the National Oil and Gas Transportation company with the aim of achieving a comprehensive development of Kazakhstan’s petroleum industry through improving the financial and economic parameters of the company, and finally contributing to the successful integration of Kazakhstan into the world economy (Olcott, 2007, pp. 7–8). The close links between this company and the government means that the company enjoys extensive privileges in the Kazakh petroleum sector, both in terms of economic rights and as a policymaker. The company has a right to be an operator on all new oil and gas projects in the country and a right to a share in any new project of at least 50 per cent (Nurmakov, 2010). In addition, the company has been responsible for important policy-relevant tasks, like the implementation of the government’s development plan for its sector of the Caspian Sea, and has been one of the bodies tasked with choosing which subsurface blocks are put to tender. Before the March 2010 reform of the Kazakhstani energy bureaucracy, these responsibilities gave Kazmunaigaz substantial ability to pressure its consortia partners to hire personnel or make purchases locally, even beyond the minimum contract requirements (Olcott, 2007, p. 27). The close relationship with the state also means the company must undertake some non-commercial activities, such as the development of commercially unprofitable deposits to avoid dependence on imports from Uzbekistan, and it must also undertake subsidising of gas sales in certain regions (Olcott, 2007, pp. 42–3). These are important explanations for the company’s low commercial efficiency (cf. Victor, 2007). Nevertheless, it seems that Kazmunaigaz has successfully served as a vehicle for Kazakhstan to work out and codify the regulatory environment for the petroleum sector, and played an important part in the country’s resource nationalist drive. In search of transportation and markets for its resources, landlocked Kazakhstan has pursued a multi-vector foreign policy. In recent years the government has come to view the deals struck with IOCs as overly favourable to the latter, and there has been a significant shift in a more resource nationalist direction. In this process Kazmunaigaz has emerged as a winner.

Russia In Russia the fate of international private and state interests in the petroleum sector after 1991 has fluctuated with the political climate. In the early days of transition the state still played a leading role in the (albeit collapsing) economy. This was followed by a period of oligarchic capitalism in which the oligarchs achieved near complete economic and political influence in the

Heidi Kjærnet 281

country. Since 2000 the state has assumed an ever-increasing role in economic development, and this is even more true for strategic economic sectors such as the petroleum sector (Hanson, 2005, p. 482). The Russian government has an ambivalent relationship with foreign investors. Especially in strategic sectors, of which there are more than 40, including energy, aviation, defence. and mass communication, it is viewed as problematic to give control a controlling interest to foreigners (see Orttung, 2006; Moe, 2008). The current legislation on foreign investments and petroleum extraction imposes a range of limitations on foreign companies’ ownership of energy resources in Russia, particularly resources of ‘federal significance’, that is, oil fields with reserves of more than 70 million tons and gas fields with reserves over 50 bcm (Moe, 2008). At the same time there is much need for foreign investments, because of both the strained economy of Gazprom and other national companies and the need for technological input. Several of the oil and gas projects that the government hopes will boost the petroleum sector are located in difficult climatic and/or offshore locales, and Gazprom is generally considered to fall short on offshore competence (Overland, 2008, p. 9). Over the past few years, the Russian government has pressured foreign investors in a series of cases (Total at the Kharyaga field, TNK-BP at the Kovykta field, ExxonMobil in the Sakhalin 1 project, and Shell at Sakhalin 2) (see Bradshaw, 2006, p. 6; Krysiek, 2007). Although the level of drama in these cases differed, the juridical pretext varied, and it is hard to pinpoint the reason behind these incidents, it makes sense to see them in light of the definition of petroleum resources as strategic resources over which it is problematic to give foreigners control. Three major petroleum development projects in Russia exemplify the challenges that the Russian government is currently trying to overcome in its relations to foreign investors: the oil and gas project Sakhalin 2 in the Sea of Okhotsk, the gas field Yamal located off the Yamal peninsula in north-west Siberia, and the gas field Stockman in the Barents Sea. In 1994 the PSA contract with the Sakhalin Energy Investment Company (a consortium consisting of Shell, Mitsui, and Mitsubishi) for the development of the Sakhalin 2 project was the first ever PSA signed by the Russian government. At the time, the risk of investing in Russia was perceived as high, and the oil price was considerably lower than it has been the past decade. This was reflected in the cost-recovery scheme in the agreement, according to which the consortium had a right to recover all development costs plus a 17.5 per cent return on its investments before the Russian government started receiving its share of the oil (Krysiek, 2007, p. 20). The risk perceptions and oil prices have changed dramatically since then, and many Russian politicians therefore felt that Russia was losing out compared to possible terms if the PSA had been negotiated later (Moe, 2006, p. 397). Gazprom subsequently secured a 50 per cent plus one share control with the Sakhalin 2 consortium. The Russian perceptions of the PSA for the

282 Strategic Resources, Strategic Players

development of the Sakhalin 2 project were likely negative for the prospects of further cooperation between IOCs and Russian companies in the oil and gas sector (Rowe, 2008, p. 19). With regard to the gas projects on the Yamal Peninsula, Gazprom has sought to develop technologically difficult fields in complex climatic conditions on its own. This has in turn sparked concern among observers that the company will not manage to ramp up the necessary investments (Orttung, 2006, p. 2; Paszyc, 2008). The Stockman field in the Barents Sea is the other big hope the Russian gas industry has of revitalising the industry and securing new supplies, making use of untapped supplies in the face of declining output from older fields. At Stockman, however, the company has invited foreign investors to participate, and Total and Statoil are currently negotiating with Gazprom over the development of the field. In the current setup, which is still being negotiated with Total and Statoil, the consortium partners will not be able to book the reserves,3 as the Russian state will retain ownership of the resources. The share of international ownership is 49 per cent, but as Stockman is a highly politicised project, and it is assumed that the project is dependent on continued political support from the highest echelons of Russian power, it still remains to be seen how the project will go (Moe, 2009). One result of the ambivalent relationship with foreign investors has been the strengthening of Gazprom’s position. In the privatisation after the Soviet collapse this company was created as a private company on the basis of the former Soviet gas ministry. The state nevertheless retained a dominant position as shareholder, holding 40 per cent of the shares. In 2005, however, President Vladimir Putin had the state holding company Rosneftegaz buy up shares in Gazprom, securing 50 per cent plus one share state ownership (Goldman, 2008, p. 83). The aim of securing state control within the petroleum sector was pursued through several ways in this period: in 2003 Yukos, the oil company owned by Mikhail Khodorkovsky, was charged with tax evasion and had 44 per cent of its shares frozen by the Russian government. Subsequently the company’s assets were taken over by Rosneft and Gazprom, effectively renationalising the company and indicating a move to state-managed network capitalism (Puffer and McCarthy, 2007, p. 9). In addition to the high degree of control over the state-owned petroleum companies, the Russian authorities enjoy high degrees of control over private companies. As an example, privately held Lukoil sometimes acts in close coordination with the government and presents itself as a faithful servant of the state (Gorst, 2007, p. 1). This indicates that the degree of state control is not exclusively secured through state ownership. Among other things, businesses in Russia depend upon licences, tax and regulatory decisions, which can be decided upon at the whim of government officials. This grants the state agencies significant leverage over the decisions of these companies. State ownership can, however, be a mixed blessing (Poussenkova, 2007, p. 10). The way Gazprom uses its monopoly power on the Russian market

Heidi Kjærnet 283

is an example of how NOCs can be counterproductive with regard to reaching the state’s goals for the petroleum sector. According to Russia’s energy strategy, one source of increased gas production is supposed to be the country’s few remaining independent gas producers (Ministry of Industry and Trade of the Russian Federation, 2003). Gazprom, however, controls access to the gas distribution networks in Russia and effectively blocks the access of independent gas producers, thus hampering the role they could have played in increasing gas production (Heinrich, 2008, p. 1564). Gazprom can do this because it is only required to provide pipeline access if it has available capacity, but the real throughput remains a well-kept secret (Heinrich, 2008, p. 1564). Gazprom performs poorly by several different performance measures, not only compared to IOCs, but also within the group of NOCs. The situation of Gazprom shows that size is less advantageous in the oil and gas industry than is commonly thought. Nadejda Victor finds large size to be particularly negative for NOCs (as opposed to the international oil companies, which can benefit from size) (Victor, 2007, p. 11). Gazprom has approximately 430,000 employees, and holds 17 per cent of world proven gas reserves (Gazprom, 2005–8a, b). NOCs in general have lower revenue per employee, and Gazprom is among the particularly overpopulated companies in these terms (Victor, 2007, p. 12).4 There is also no strong relationship between profitability and asset base, according to which Gazprom compares poorly also to other Russian petroleum companies like TNK-BP and Lukoil (Victor, 2007, p. 14). Interestingly the relationship between increased output and revenues is not always positive for NOCs. Gazprom is among the companies that perform below the NOC standard in this regard (Victor, 2007, pp. 19–20). This is not surprising given the controlled prices for domestic consumption in Russia, which are taking their toll on the company’s profits. All in all, we see a Russia that is struggling to maintain a careful balance between retaining state control with strategic resources and attaining necessary technology and investments from abroad. Various pretexts have been used to roll back favourable deals with IOCs, and the national oil and gas companies have achieved a more significant role in the Russian petroleum sector. The high level of political support that seems necessary to succeed with oil and gas development in Russia creates considerable levels of uncertainty with regard to the big projects that are currently being planned for development in the country.

Conclusions This chapter has surveyed the dynamic processes that surround the cooperation between the governments of Azerbaijan, Kazakhstan, and Russia and international and national oil companies. While all three countries ascribe ever more important roles to their NOCs, the three countries

284 Strategic Resources, Strategic Players

in question have displayed somewhat differing patterns in the ways they have related to international investors in the petroleum sector. Although disguised as administrative and environmental measures, there is little doubt that the developments in Kashagan and Sakhalin 2 mark the assertiveness of the Kazakhstani and Russian governments respectively. Azerbaijan has been the most successful and persistent in its opening up to IOCs and, while SOCAR is gaining an increasingly larger share of recent PSAs in Azerbaijan, we have not seen Azerbaijan pressuring the IOCs in the country. It could of course be that Baku will also pursue a more assertive policy that will threaten the stability that the foreign investors praise. It could also, however, be that the PSAs in Azerbaijan are preferential enough for the country, thereby leaving little room for renegotiations. Azerbaijan also stands out among the three countries as the one that has made the strongest verbal commitment to stability for foreign investors, and also to a larger extent has based its foreign policy strategy on the premise of foreign involvement in its petroleum sector. This could mean that foreign investors will be safe in Azerbaijan for the foreseeable future. In contrast to Azerbaijan, Russia and Kazakhstan have pressured foreign companies in the petroleum sector. In the case of Russia, where foreign policy is characterised by big power ambitions, the assertiveness in the petroleum sector is a direct result of the definition of petroleum resources as strategic resources. In Kazakhstan, similar policies have been pursued and together with the strong interest from international actors in the Kazakhstani oil sector, have resulted in a strengthening of Kazakhstan’s bargaining powers. On a more general level the balancing between IOCs and NOCs analysed in this chapter shows how the expectations towards these types of companies differ widely: to the regime critics IOCs bring hopes of all good things: democracy, human rights, and economic development that benefits the population. The governments, by contrast, hope that the IOCs will help develop the national petroleum sector without bringing too much attention to problematic domestic issues from international organisations or the embassies that often come with IOC engagement. The expectations that the IOCs face make it likely that both regime critics and the host governments will be disappointed. If IOCs have any role in domestic development, it is certainly not the one desired by regime critics. The IOCs’ participation in petroleum sector development rather has the effect of imbuing the regimes with great wealth, which in turn enables the regimes to buy support and crack down on opposition more efficiently (see Overland, Kendall-Taylor, and Kjærnet, 2010). This is partly balanced by the tendency to bring along an entourage of more or less critical international agencies, which are not limited to the petroleum sector, but which criticise deficient domestic developments, as well. To the governments it is, therefore, necessary to balance the need for technology and foreign investment against the desire to avoid criticism. Also, once

Heidi Kjærnet 285

the dependence on foreign investments and technology decreases, the necessity to prioritise stability for foreign investors over domestic concerns for legitimacy through maximisation of petroleum incomes decreases. This, combined with high oil prices, is the backdrop for the developments outlined in this chapter, where we see that particularly Kazakhstan and Russia have become more assertive in their petroleum policies and resorted to similar methods in their treatment of IOCs. The NOCs face somewhat different expectations. Created to counterbalance the influence of IOCs and capture economic rents, as well as to gain technological competence, NOCs sometimes function as government bodies and are given roles in policymaking regarding the petroleum sector. In addition, they enjoy extensive privileges as state companies that are not only beneficial domestically, but also help them in their foreign operations. The non-commercial objectives with which the NOCs are tasked, however, take serious tolls on their commercial effectiveness, and the usefulness of NOCs to their governments is therefore questioned. A key issue for the resourcerich states wishing to make their resource-abundance a foreign policy asset will be their ability to manage the NOCs effectively. Although it seems that the companies studied here are still acting in compliance with the desires of their government owners, the literature on NOCs predicts that as a result of institutionalisation and aligning of interests with the private sector, they will seek to emancipate themselves from their government owners. It is therefore up to these states to develop good governance mechanisms for their petroleum sectors in order to maximise the output of both IOC and NOC involvement.

Notes This chapter was written as part of the research project ‘RUSSCASP – Russian and Caspian energy developments’, financed by the PETROSAM program of the Research Council of Norway. The project is carried out with the Fridtjof Nansen Institute, the Norwegian Institute of International Affairs and Econ Pöyry as consortium partners and, also, includes other institutions and researchers. 1. Even though both abbreviations are based on the word oil, they are commonly used about both oil and gas companies. 2. Author’s interview with CSR Adviser, StatoilHydro’s Baku office, 19 June 2008. 3. Booking reserves is the practice of adding reserves to a company’s list of assets. 4. Different measures appear in the literature. According to the World Bank 2008 report ‘A Citizen’s Guide to National Oil Companies’, Gazprom has 243,700 employees and produces 17,102 BOE (barrel of oil equivalents) per employee (p. 233). In comparison, Statoil, according to the same report, has 29,500 employees and produces 25,268 BOE per employee. The report, however, does not state the source for the number of employees in Gazprom, which is significantly lower than the number the company itself states. Taking the number the company itself states, 436,000 employees would then give a rate of BOE per employee of 9,559, or roughly a third of Statoil’s BOE per employee.

286 Strategic Resources, Strategic Players

References Aale, Per Kristian (2006). ‘Oljefeber i Aserbajdsjan’, Aftenposten, 2 May 2005. Available at http://www.aftenposten.no/nyheter/uriks/article1300135.ece (accessed 6 July 2010). Alieva, Leila (2000). Reshaping Eurasia: Foreign Policy Strategies and Leadership Assets in Post-Soviet South Caucasus. Berkeley, CA: Institute of Slavic, East European, and Eurasian Studies, University of California. Alieva, Leila and Stina Torjesen (2007). ‘The Insignificance of Clan in Azerbaijan’. Unpublished manuscript. Azerbaijan Business Centre (2009). ‘SOCAR–NIL PSA is of Effect’, Azerbaijan Business Centre, 1 June. Available at http://abc.az/eng/news/35362.html (accessed 6 July 2010). Bradshaw, Michael (2006). ‘Sakhalin-II in the Firing Line: State Control, Environmental Impacts and the Future of Foreign Investment in Russia’s Oil and Gas Industry’, Russian Analytical Digest, no. 08/06, pp. 6–10. Coffey International Development, IPAN and PKF (2009). Validation of the Extractive Industries’ Transparency Initiative (EITI) in the Republic of Azerbaijan. Berkshire: Extractive Industries Transparency Initiative. Cohen, Ariel (2008). Kazakhstan: The Road to Independence. Energy Policy and the Birth of a Nation. Washington, DC/Stockholm: Central Asia–Caucasus Institute & Silk Road Studies Program. Cummings, Sally N. (2005). Kazakhstan: Power and the Elite. London and New York: I.B. Tauris. Energy Information Administration (2007). Country Analysis Briefs: Azerbaijan. Energy Information Administration. Ergun, Ayça (2003). ‘International Challenges and Domestic Preferences in the PostSoviet Political Transition of Azerbaijan’, Perspectives on Global Development and Technology, vol. 2, no. 3–4, pp. 635–57. Falola, Toyin and Ann Genova (2005). The Politics of the Global Oil Industry. An Introduction. Westport, CT and London: Praeger. Gazprom (2005–2008a). ‘Reserves’. Gazprom. Available at http://eng.gazpromquestions. ru/index.php?id=8 (accessed 1 June 2009). Gazprom (2005–2008b). ‘Social Responsibility’. Gazprom. Available at http://eng. gazpromquestions.ru/?id=16 (accessed 1 June 2009). Giæver, Ole Peder (2008). ‘Mot gjenvalg for Aserbajdsjans leder’, ABC Nyheter, 15 October. Available at http://www.abcnyheter.no/node/75790 (accessed 6 July 2010). Goldman, Marshall I. (2008). Petrostate: Putin, Power and the New Russia. New York: Oxford University Press. Gorst, Isabel (2007). Lukoil: Russia’s Largest Oil Company. Houston, TX: The James A. Baker III Institute for Public Policy, Rice University. Gulbrandsen, Lars H. and Arild Moe (2007). ‘BP in Azerbaijan: A Test Case of the Potential and Limits of the CSR Agenda?’, Third World Quarterly, vol. 28, no. 4, pp. 813–30. Hanson, Philip (2005). ‘Observations on the Costs of the Yukos Affair to Russia’, Eurasian Geography and Economics, vol. 46, no. 7, pp. 481–94. Hanson, Philip and Elizabeth Teague (2005). ‘Big Business and the State in Russia’, Europe–Asia Studies, vol. 57, no. 5, pp. 657–80. Heinrich, Andreas (2008). ‘Under the Kremlin’s Thumb: Does Increased State Control in the Russian Gas Sector Endanger European Energy Security?’, Europe–Asia Studies, vol. 60, no. 9, pp. 1539–74. Heradstveit, Daniel (2001). Democracy and Oil: The Case of Azerbaijan. Wiesbaden: Reichert Verlag.

Heidi Kjærnet 287 Ipek, Pinar (2007). ‘The Role of Oil and Gas in Kazakhstan’s Foreign Policy’, Europe– Asia Studies, vol. 59, no. 7, pp. 1179–99. Jaffe, Amy Myers and Ronald Soligo (2007). The International Oil Companies. Houston, TX: The James A. Baker III Institute for Public Policy, Rice University. Kennedy, Ryan (2010). ‘In the “New Great Game”, Who is Getting Played? Chinese Investment in Kazakhstan’s Petroleum Sector’, in I. Overland, H. Kjærnet, and A. Kendall-Taylor (eds) Caspian Energy Politics: Azerbaijan, Kazakhstan and Turkmenistan. Abingdon: Routledge. Kjærnet, Heidi (2007). ‘En smak av egen medisin: Aserbajdsjans russlandstrategi’, Nordisk Øst-Forum, vol. 21, no. 4, pp. 457–74. Kjærnet, Heidi (2010). ‘Azerbaijani–Russian Relations and the Economization of Foreign Policy’, in I. Overland, H. Kjærnet, and A. Kendall-Taylor (eds) Caspian Energy Politics: Azerbaijan, Kazakhstan and Turkmenistan. Abingdon: Routledge. Kjærnet, Heidi, Stina Torjesen, and Dosym Satpaev (2008). ‘Big Business and HighLevel Politics in Kazakhstan: An Everlasting Symbiosis?’, China Eurasia Forum Quarterly, vol. 6, no. 1, pp. 95–107. Krysiek, Timothy Fenton (2007). Agreements from Another Era. Production Sharing Agreements in Putin’s Russia, 2000–2007. Oxford: Oxford Institute for Energy Studies. McPherson, Charles (2003). ‘National Oil Companies: Evolution, Issues, Outlook’, in J. M. Davis, R. Ossowski, and A. Fedelino (eds) Fiscal Policy Formulation and Implementation in Oil-Producing Countries. Washington, DC: International Monetary Fund, pp. 184–203. Meland, Astrid (2005). ‘Statoil i verdens mest korrupte land’, Dagbladet Magasinet, 3 November. Available at http://www.dagbladet.no/magasinet/2005/10/31/448023. html (accessed 6 July 2010). Ministry of Energy of the Russian Federation (2003). ‘The Summary of the Energy Strategy of Russia for the Period of up to 2020’. Ministry of Energy of the Russian Federation. Available at http://ec.europa.eu/energy/russia/events/doc/2003_ strategy_2020_en.pdf (accessed 15 January 2008). Ministry of Industry and Trade of the Russian Federation (2003). Energeticheskaya strategiya Rossii na period do 2020 goda, Approved as Decree No. 1234-r by the Russian Government on 28 August 2003. Available at http://www.minprom.gov.ru/docs/ strateg/1/ (accessed 6 July 2010). Moe, Arild (2006). ‘Sjtokman-beslutningen: Forklaringer og implikasjoner’, Nordisk Øst-Forum, vol. 20, no. 4, pp. 389–403. Moe, Arild (2008). Status of Legislation for Foreign Investment in the Russian Petroleum Sector and on the Continental Shelf. RUSSCASP Working Paper, Oslo: FNI, NUPI, and ECON PÖYRY. Moe, Arild (2009). ‘Shtokman in a Russian Perspective – Are Assumptions and Conditions Changing?’ The 2009 PETROSAM Conference: Global Outlook and Development in Key Provinces, 9 June, Oslo. Noreng, Oeystein (1995). ‘National Oil Companies and Their Government Owners: The Politics of Interaction and Control’, Journal of Energy and Development, vol. 19, no. 2, pp. 197–226. NTB (2007). ‘Menneskerettigheter er ikke vårt mandat’, Dagens Næringsliv, 4 December. Available at http://www.dn.no/energi/article1259073.ece (accessed 6 July 2010). Nurmakov, Adil (2010). ‘Resource Nationalism in Kazakhstan’s Petroleum Sector: Curse or Blessing?’, in I. Overland, H. Kjærnet, and A. Kendall-Taylor (eds) Caspian Energy Politics: Azerbaijan, Kazakhstan and Turkmenistan. Abingdon: Routledge.

288 Strategic Resources, Strategic Players Oil Workers’ Right Protection Organization (2009). ‘Accountability: How to Monitor and Hold Companies Accountable’. Oil Workers’ Right Protection Organization. Available at http://www.nhmt-az.org/ts_general/download/Accountability__how_ to_monitor_and_hold_companies_accountable.pdf (accessed 6 July 2010). Olcott, Martha Brill (2007). Kazmunaigaz: Kazakhstan’s National Oil and Gas Company. Houston, TX: The James A. Baker III Institute for Public Policy, Rice University. Orttung, Robert (2006). ‘Business–State Relations in Russia’, Russian Analytical Digest, no. 08/06, pp. 2–5. Overland, Indra (2008). ‘Shtokman and Russia’s Arctic Petroleum Frontier’, Russian Analytical Digest, no. 33/08, pp. 8–12. Overland, Indra and Stina Torjesen (2010). ‘Just Good Friends: Kazakhstan’s and Turkmenistan’s Energy Relations with Russia’, in I. Overland, H. Kjærnet, and A. Kendall-Taylor (eds) Caspian Energy Politics: Azerbaijan, Kazakhstan and Turkmenistan. Abingdon: Routledge. Overland, Indra, Andrea Kendall-Taylor, and Heidi Kjærnet (2010). ‘Introduction. The Resource Curse and Authoritarianism in the Caspian Petro-States’, in I. Overland, H. Kjærnet, and A. Kendall-Taylor (eds) Caspian Energy Politics: Azerbaijan, Kazakhstan and Turkmenistan. Abingdon: Routledge. Paszyc, Ewa (2008). ‘Gazprom Starts Developing the Yamal Gas Fields’, Eastweek Analytical Newsletter, no. 150, pp. 2–4. Poussenkova, Nina (2007). Lord of the Rigs: Rosneft as a Mirror of Russia’s Evolution. Houston, TX: The James A. Baker III Institute for Public Policy, Rice University. Puffer, Sheila M. and Daniel J. McCarthy (2007). ‘Can Russia’s State-Managed, Network Capitalism be Competitive? Institutional Pull versus Institutional Push’, Journal of World Business, vol. 42, no. 1, pp. 1–13. Rowe, Elana Wilson (2008). ‘Regional Influence in Oil and Gas Development: A Case Study of Sakhalin’, Russian Analytical Digest, no. 33/08, pp. 18–21. SOCAR, AMOCO Caspian Sea Petroleum Limited, BP Exploration Caspian Sea Limited, Delta Nimir Khazar Limited, Den norske stats oljeselskap a.s, Lukoil Joint Stock Company, McDermott Azerbaijan Inc., Pennzoil Caspian Corporation, Ramco Hazar Energy Limited, Turkiye Petrolleri A.O. and UNOCAL Khazar Ltd (1994). Agreement on the Joint Development and Production Sharing for the Azeri and Chirag Fields and the Deep Water Portion of the Gunashli Field in the Azerbaijan Sector of the Caspian Sea. Available at http://subsites.bp.com/caspian/ACG/Eng/agmt1/agmt1. pdf (accessed 6 July 2010). Solli, Hilde (2005). ‘Utvikling av lokale foretak i oljesektoren i Aserbajdsjan’. Cand. polit. thesis, University of Oslo, Institute of Sociology and Human Geography. Stevens, Paul (2004). ‘National Oil Companies: Good or Bad? A Literature Survey’, CEPMLP Internet Journal, vol. 14, pp. 1–20. The World Bank Group and The Center for Energy Economics/Bureau of Economic Geology (2008). A Citizen’s Guide to National Oil Companies. Washington, DC/ Austin, TX. Transparency International (2008). ‘2008 Corruption Perceptions Index’. Transparency International. Available at http://www.transparency.org/policy_research/surveys_ indices/cpi/2008 (accessed 6 July 2010). U.S. Government Energy Information Administration (2007). ‘Azerbaijan’. US Government Energy Information Administration. Available at http://www.eia.doe. gov/emeu/cabs/Azerbaijan/pdf.pdf (accessed 1 June 2009). Victor, Nadejda Makarova (2007). On Measuring the Performance of National Oil Companies (NOCs). Working Paper no. 64, Stanford, CA: Stanford University.

Heidi Kjærnet 289 Wainberg, Miranda Ferrell and Michelle Michot Foss (2007). Commercial Frameworks for National Oil Companies. Austin, TX: Center for Energy Economies, B. o. E. G., Jackson School of Geosciences, University of Texas at Austin. Wakeman-Linn, John, Paul Mathieu, and Bert van Selm (2003). ‘Oil Funds in Transition Economies: Azerbaijan and Kazakhstan’, in J. M. Davis, R. Ossowski, and A. Fedelino (eds) Fiscal Policy Formulation and Implementation in Oil-Producing Countries. Washington, DC: International Monetary Fund, pp. 339–58.

Conclusion Maria Raquel Freire and Roger E. Kanet

This volume has investigated Russia’s policies towards the greater Caspian Basin, looking at the role of Russia in an area where multiple dynamics crosscut along with differentiated actors. The analysis throughout the volume highlights Russia’s possibilities and limits in Eurasia, clearly demonstrating that, despite Russia’s definition of the area as a key foreign policy goal and of its leverage and power at different levels, it faces many restraints – both those derived from more autonomous policies from the countries in Eurasia and from the presence of external actors. Thus, the role and influence of Russia in Eurasia is challenged from various angles, resulting in both cooperative and competitive relations with the states in the area and with other actors, and in many cases both. This reality sets the stage for the analysis of how Russia seeks to reassert its influence, through a combination of soft power means and more traditional ways, including a military presence in countries such as Armenia, Kyrgyzstan, and Tajikistan. Energy has also been a means of exerting pressure, with the ‘tap weapon’ becoming an instrument of leverage in an area where Russia’s infrastructure for the transit of oil and gas is still dominant. Other softer approaches have included the promotion of closer linkages in commercial terms, support regarding the development of infrastructure, educational and cultural exchange programmes, with the aim of binding these states to Moscow through the fostering of a network of close relations. However, and despite the primacy that Eurasia has regained in Russian foreign policy, it becomes clear from this study that the reactions from the countries in the area have varied from almost submission to independent action. In general, the richer the country is the more independent from Russia it tends to be, although the role of external powers in this equation should not be neglected. In fact, various developments point to an increased differentiation in Russia’s power in and towards Eurasia. Whereas the influence Russia has over Armenia or Tajikistan is remarkable, its leverage over Azerbaijan, Kazakhstan or Uzbekistan is much more limited. The historical linkages and even the discourse in Central Asia about these states’ 290

Maria Raquel Freire and Roger E. Kanet

291

involuntarily independent status after the fall of the Soviet Union soon gave way to the definition of autonomous courses, particularly from the states endowed with economic resources. The understanding that they could gain more from pursuing multi-vectorial foreign policies, where Russia remains a relevant partner but is balanced by other major powers, has been pursued in a win–win formula for these republics. It should, nevertheless, be noted that intraregional cooperation that could enhance Eurasia’s independence and projection capability has not been possible. The asymmetries between these republics, in terms of development, economic means, and energy assets could certainly constitute a window of opportunity for reciprocity in areas of cooperation. For instance, in Central Asia the trade-off of gas and oil for water could be a catalyst for integration initiatives, but remains a delicate issue in the agenda of discord. The Nagorno-Karabakh conflict between Armenia and Azerbaijan in the South Caucasus remains a strong divisive issue preventing any efforts at more inclusive dynamics involving these two states and rendering cooperative measures including the three south Caucasian states almost non-existent. These intraregional differences and difficulties in building common goals that would allow for cooperation frameworks have been exploited by Russia and other external players as a fragility that allows them deeper engagement in Eurasia’s policies. But, as the prior analysis has shown, Russia’s search for influence has met resistance, including measures that run counter to Russian interests, such as the diversification of energy markets and transit routes, in some cases bypassing Russia (such as the BTC – Baku–Tbilisi–Ceyhan pipeline, and other planned projects, including the Nabucco pipeline); and increased commercial links with other partners, with special relevance for China, which has become the primary commercial partner of some of these states. In addition, the diverse integration formats in Eurasia, following on what has been argued about the lack of intraregional cooperation, adds to the complex web of relations in the area. The main integration projects driven by Russia, the CIS and the CSTO, are clearly limited in their achievements. The CIS is not much more than a forum for dialogue and the CSTO is limited in terms of membership, therefore not constituting in the area a representative organisation. These limits render fragile long-time political loyalties, which are easily exchanged for economic benefits. As such, the role of Russia in Eurasia is not unrestrained. The role of external players further adds complexity to the relations in the area, shedding light, however, in the more autonomous foreign policy of some of these states, as mentioned. The case of Georgia is illustrative. Its pro-Western orientation and the support it has gained from the EU and NATO, in particular, have allowed an autonomous stance from Moscow. This has led to the war in the summer of 2008 in which Russia reaffirmed its interests in an area increasingly distanced from its policies and goals, thus constituting a challenge to

292

Conclusion

Russian influence. The war was clearly a signal from Moscow that it opposes the extensive involvement of external players in an area it defines as vital for its foreign policy and that it will act, forcefully if necessary, to undercut that involvement. Moreover, NATO is still defined by many in the Russian military establishment as a threat and its policy of enlargement has been the focus of confrontation at the NATO–Russia Council discussions. And clearly the August 2008 military confrontation sent a strong message to the Atlantic Alliance, particularly with regard to Georgia’s and Ukraine’s wish to join the organisation. As for the OSCE, the Russian positioning has been one of non-cooperation, which has been preventing the organisation from taking a more active role in the post-Soviet area. The EU and Russia define Eurasia as their common neighbourhood, sharing concerns such as those concerning the expansion radical fundamentalist movements, transnational illegal activities and energy politics, which have been much at the centre of the EU–Russia dialogue. However, differences in approach abound, with Moscow fearing an increased involvement of the EU in the area. Different development projects clash, with the EU’s normative agenda and transformative diplomacy mismatching Russia’s imposed will and reassertion of influence in Eurasian politics. In addition, the EU’s normative approach has found resistance in Eurasia, where, as noted earlier in this analysis, elites and governments rely on strategic calculations of interest and balance of power politics and resist socialisation processes into EU political values, therefore rendering the EU a weak, but not irrelevant, player. The different orientations of the governments in Eurasia could constitute an opportunity for the drawing of a common project between these two giant neighbours into a common endeavour of stability-building, but this critical development seems this far on hold. In fact, Eurasia has increasingly become an area of relevance for different players, resulting in many instances in conflicting approaches. But, as argued, in the new great game for influence in Central Asia the local states are not mere pawns in the hands of the ‘great powers’. Local leaders have been able to use their command of energy resources, their location and other factors to play off the outside states to their own advantage. And this has severely restricted the role of the Russian Federation, as well as of other external players. As for the US, it has a far more limited role than sought, though it still maintains a military presence to Russian dissatisfaction. Washington has learned that political dealings in the area are volatile because of both internal developments and external pressure, but that the political elites in the countries of Eurasia are increasingly playing off differences to their greatest advantage. This has resulted in distinct gains for external players in the area, both gaining and losing in this ongoing asymmetrical bargaining. And this applies not only to the US, but also to Russia and others. Access to energy, fundamental for the independence of Eurasian states, has been essential for their proximity to Russia, Iran, Turkey, and China,

Maria Raquel Freire and Roger E. Kanet

293

as well as the EU, constituting an illustration of this constant bargaining and resulting in different gains for different players. China is other fundamental player in the area, for despite its discreet approach it has clearly been increasing its ties with Eurasian countries, in particular Central Asian states at its borders, while allowing for a multivectorial policy particularly from the states of Central Asia, which balances cooperative relations with China with Russian power. Beijing considers that avoiding instability in Central Asia is fundamental for the country’s own stability, particularly in face of secessionist movements among population groups in the west of China. The colour revolutions that sprinkled the post-Soviet space, in particular the tulip revolution in Kyrgyzstan, raised concerns in China about the disruptive threat this type of development could constitute for some of the more unstable Chinese provinces. Cooperation with Russia is pursued mainly against the US, therefore in a negative logic of containment. But this logic is dualistic, in the sense that it is US-containment-driven, but also bilaterally driven, with the goal of containing the other in the Russia–China relationship. Therefore, it has been, as argued, a limited partnership, but one in which Moscow acknowledges the relevance of China’s role in Eurasia and that it has nothing to gain from disengagement with such a fundamental player. Ties developed at the bilateral level and within the SCO format envisage building cooperative formats, especially in economic and energy terms, with China constituting a fundamental consumer of energy assets. Trade and investment bring benefits for all, Central Asia and neighbouring Chinese provinces alike, therefore Beijing has already become trading partner number one of some of these republics. For Eurasia further engagement by China in the area is also a way of balancing Russia’s leverage and influence, allowing a more efficient multi-vectorial policy by these states. India has no clear set strategy towards Central Asia, with its major interests relate to its need for energy, its understanding that security and stability are fundamental in this area for the stabilisation of Pakistan and Afghanistan, and regarding the regional balance of power, where India wants to be recognised. India faces, nevertheless, added difficulties in its approach to Central Asia since it has no direct access to the area because of China and Pakistan. Therefore, its bargaining power is diminished when compared to other players that directly border the region or with physical and material presence in the area, such as the US. But a favourable regional balance of power that allows the containment of the Islamic threat together with the ambitions of Pakistan and Saudi Arabia is also in the interest of the US, Russia, Iran, and China, and this might constitute a new opportunity for India’s affirmation in Eurasian geopolitics. Iran confronts Russia in the Caspian but also depends on Russian diplomatic and military support. Turkey is also an influential actor in the area that sees relations with Iran and Russia in a complementary manner.

294

Conclusion

Therefore, the triangulation of power and interests among these three states renders relations in Eurasia complex. Thus, despite acknowledging the relevance of the ‘strategic partnership’ with Russia, Teheran understands this as limiting its regional goals. Simultaneously the rapprochement between Iran and Turkey, seemingly conferring on these actors a renewed feeling of power in an area of confluence of interests, does not seem, at least for the moment, powerful enough to challenge Moscow’s dominance. Reacting to recent developments, Russia has been playing off Washington’s assertive policies in the region, particularly towards Islam, in order not to allow a change in the status quo that has been mostly favourable to it, and where its relations with both Iran and Turkey have allowed concrete countermeasures to facing the undesired US presence in Eurasia. As for non-state actors, and particularly multinational oil corporations, these have become increasingly relevant actors in Eurasia, through the technological input and investment potential they entail. The way in which these corporations relate to increasingly assertive policies by the host countries concerned with assuring control of major assets and the increased role of national energy companies along these lines constitutes a challenge to all the state actors involved. This has been translated in the careful balancing of the value-added that these multinational corporations might bring without constituting a challenging element to state control of energy assets. In addition, the conditionality attached by these corporations to investment plans, for instance, has raised problems regarding international criticism over human rights compliance or democratisation processes, which is not to the interest of these states. These non-state actors have a challenging potential, simultaneously punishing and rewarding these states by their conduct, rendering their presence needed while also cautiously measured. The contributors to this volume converge on the affirmation that Eurasia has gained increased relevance in international politics and became the stage of a renewed ‘Great Game’ among major powers competing for influence over the states in the area. In this game, where regional dynamics in Eurasia are at play, Russia seeks primacy. This Russian desire for affirmation is acknowledged, despite the many limits identified. First, these have to do with intraregional dynamics and how the states in the area relate to Moscow, with distinct levels of proximity defining the relations. Closely associated with this point is the fact that the regional state actors are also active, and in some cases, quite astute participants in the game. Second is the role of external players, which renders Russian actions limited in their goals, by directly impairing on its actions or indirectly having reflex on balancing strategies by the countries in the region. Simultaneously, Russia also constitutes an obstacle to further involvement by external actors such as the US or even China, through selective containment mechanisms, as well as international organisations, in particular NATO, but also the EU and a possibly enhanced role by the OSCE. This analysis also concludes that a multi-level process

Maria Raquel Freire and Roger E. Kanet

295

encompassing hard and soft means, ranging from political and security to economic and cultural projects, is in place. This complex engagement process renders Eurasia an area of intersecting dynamics, of cooperation and competition, where Russia is certainly a central player, but where other state and non-state actors are also of relevance.

Index Abkhazia 21, 25, 29–30, 233, 264–5 actors, in Central Asia and Caucasus 55 Afghanistan and security in Central Asia 22, 70, 134, 147–61, 206–7, 229–34 Akayev, Askar 227, 261 Andijon and US policy 69 Armenia and Iran 64, 175 and Russia 63–5, 204–6, 224–5 and Turkey 182–3 conflict of with Azerbaijan 4, 175, 201, 248, 291 Russian support of 20, 171, 199–200 Azerbaijan and China 117 and energy 274–8, 284 and Iran 177–9 and Nagorno Karabakh 20, 201, 248, 291 and NATO 219–20, 223, 225 and Russia 65–6, 91, 112, 118 and Turkey 64, 171, 174–5, 182 Bakiev, Kurmanbek 67, 206, 261 Belarus 17–18 and Russia 16, 197–9 gas war 18, 90–1 Berdymukhammedov, Gurbanguly 68–9, 228 Biden, Joseph 234 speech of 29 border problems in post–Soviet space 14–15 India–China 148, 154–5 BTC, Baku–Tbilisi–Ceyhan pipeline 66, 117, 275, 277, 291 Caspian Basin energy in and US 31, 179 energy competition 117 Russian influence 82–5, 89–93

Caucasus and the European Union 108–9 and Turkey 169–71 and the United States 85, 93 as a region 60–1 as a security region 19–20, 164–5, 172 conflicts in 25, 111–12, 195, 263, 291 definition of 3–4 Central Asia and Chinese energy needs 45–7, 132–3, 279 and Russia 6, 89–91, 111, 134–6 and the United States 85–6, 104, 133–4, 206–7 as a region 61, 158 as a security region 21–2, 164–5, 172 authoritarian regimes in 2 definition of 1 external actors in 47–8, 106–8, 159–60, 169–71 in Chinese core policy strategy 41 gas and Russia 34, 91, 117–18, 209 overview of 5–6 search for identity in 83–4 weak integration of 3, 203–4, 290–1 Central Asian Cooperation Organisation (CACO) 135 China and Central Asia 40ff energy access in 136, 279 and Eurasia 124ff. and Russia and Central Asia 132ff. and counterterrorism 134–5 and Korean Peninsula 137–8 in East Asia 137–9, 158–9 long–term competition of 140 post–1991 128–9 shared interests of 138 strategic partnership 129–31 and the United States 130–1 economic policy of in Central Asia 43–4 foreign policy of 296

Index 297 energy in 45, 136, 166 linkage of domestic to 41 goals of in 42 in Eurasia 6 on US policy in 41 support for stability in Central Asia 42 Collective Security Treaty Organisation (CSTO) 7, 61–2, 135, 204–9, 230–1, 291 Commonwealth of Independent States (CIS) 7, 199–203 and economic integration 35 as discussion forum 15, 291 as loose confederation 61, 135, 195–6 nature of 15, 83, 203 dependency on Russia 63ff. dynamics of relations in Central Asia and Caucasus 55, 104, 165–7, 181 economic reform post–Soviet 14 China 128 India 149 economic revival of Russia 87 energy and disputes with Russia 115–20 and the European Union 103–4, 108 in Chinese foreign policy 45, 135–6, 159, 166 in Indian foreign policy 150–4 in Russian foreign policy 90–1, 135–6, 183, 229, 280–3 politics of in Azerbaijan 274–8 in Iran 38, 176, 178 in Kazakhstan 278–80 in Turkmenistan 68, 183 in Uzbekistan 208 strategic issue of for US 31, 165, 210 Estonia, ‘cyberwar’ in 96 CSCE/OSCE mission in 246, 257–8 energy cuts 90 Eurasia 60 as energy backup for Middle East 31, 167–8

as heartland 103, 126, 172 as security community 140 as security complex 133, 163 definition of 103–4, 126, 165 integration 196–209 East–West competition in 29, 114, 117–8 international rivalries in 29ff., 165–6, 181 Eurasian Economic Community (EurAsEC) 135, 207–9 European security subregion 16, 24–5 most important for Russia 19 European Union (EU) and Central Asia 106–7 and democratic revolutions 109 and Eurasia 6, 103ff., 140 and Russia 104–5, 130, 195 competition or collaboration between, 118–9 differing interests 113 differing views of ‘neighbourhood’ 114 energy in relations of 115–6 in Eurasia 103ff., 292 and Russian politics 55ff. and South Caucasus 21, 106–7 reappraisal of policy after 2001, 108 agreements of with South Caucasus and Central Asia 108 assistance of to post–Soviet states 107, 265 Eastern Partnership of 119–20 and Russia 113 lack of energy policy of 116 regional approach 60 financial crisis 2008, 57–8, 106, 120, 136 foreign policy and domestic politics 50, 56–7, 59, 82 Foreign Policy Concept 2000, 57, 86 Foreign Policy Concept 2008, 3, 57, 88, 111 gas pipelines in Europe 92 to China 47 gas ‘wars’ 110, 120, 201 Russia and Ukraine 17, 87

298

Index

Gazprom 200, 281–3 and financial crisis 118 and Ukraine 17–8 Georgia 20–2 and European Union 106, 109, 117 and NATO 105, 111, 203, 215–7, 223–4, 232–3 and OSCE 259–61, 263–5 and Russia 21, 25, 70–2, 87–9, 112, 198–9 hydroelectric power and cooperation in Central Asia 65 in Tajikistan 64 India and Central Asia 7, 157–60, 293 and energy 150–4, 183 hydroelectric power 150 diplomacy 146–7, 161 soft power 148 Iran and energy politics 38, 117, 153–4, 166, 272 and Eurasia 7, 37ff. and the Caspian 37–8 and northern neighbours 39–40, 164–5 and Russia 177–81 nuclear policy of 38 Karimov, Islam 3, 42, 94, 156, 206, 210, 227–8 Kazakhstan and Russia 66, 117 borders 117, 131, 151 energy production of 66, 91, 132, 136, 150, 159, 278–80 nuclear weapons 84–5, 108 OSCE chairmanship 206, 267 Kuchma, Leonid 17, 197, 210 Kyrgyzstan and Russia 67, 112, 290 and the United States 222, 226–7, 256 security problems of 22–3, 206–7 Latvia, CSCE/OSCE mission in 246, 257–8

Lavrov, Sergei 57, 203, 262–3, 267 Lukashenko, Alexander 16, 18–9, 205–6, 258 Medvedev, Dmitry and Central Asia 25, 29 and European security architecture 110–11, 119, 238–9, 254, 265–8 and Russian foreign policy 2, 57, 60, 87–8, 195, 203, 232 Middle East Impact on Central Asia and Caucasus 25, 164, 168 Moldova 19 and Russia 16, 25, 201, 210–11 and the European Union 114 CSCE/OSCE mission in 247–8 multipolarity and Chinese foreign policy 130 and Russian foreign policy 2, 218, 130, 180, 218 multivectorial foreign policy of Russia 56, 138–9 Nabucco pipeline 24, 34, 112, 116–7, 176, 291 Nagorno Karabakh 20, 63–4, 107, 167, 171, 181–2, 225, 248, 291 national security policy of Russia 57, 128, 139, 209 nationalism and Russian foreign policy 57, 88–89 in Central Asia 3, 14 Nazarbayev, Nursultan 3, 278 Niyazov, Saparmurat 68, 156, 227–8 Nord Stream pipeline 97 North Atlantic Treaty Organisation (NATO) and CSTO 205 and Eurasia 7, 170, 223–8 and Russia 36, 105–6, 109–11, 197, 215– 23, 228–9, 249–50 Partnership for Peace (PfP) of and Eurasia 81, 217–9, 222 Russia Council 110, 215, 266 nuclear arsenal post–Soviet 14

Index 299 oil and gas in Russian foreign policy 90–1 pipelines and Russia 23, 30, 115 oil companies in Eurasia 8, 271–4 Organisation for Democracy and Economic Development (GUAM) 15, 209–12 Organisation for Security and Cooperation in Europe (OSCE) 238 and Eurasia 7–8, 220 and Russian politics 36, 239, 247–65 and the Soviet Union 239–43 Minsk Group 206 patron–client relations in Russian politics 59 PHARE 121 pipelines 116–7 as Russian policy instrument 16, 30, 34, 165 diversification of 210 Putin, Vladimir and Central Asia 22, 135, 206 and rebuilding the Russian state 86–7, 91, 115, 232 and Russian foreign policy 86–7, 103 109–10, 134, 196–7, 223 and the OSCE 239, 249, 253, 257–9 on the collapse of the USSR 87, 196 regionalism in Eurasia 60–1, 203–4 and outside powers 4 Russia and China, historical relations 124–5 and the CIS 23ff. bilateral nature of 24 economic aspects of 24, 202, 208–9 hegemonic role of 27, 199–200, 216, 219–20 renewed role of 24, 112 and Eurasia vs. all outside involvement 35–6, 223 and Eurasian states differing relations with 72–3, 168, 198 and the Greater Caspian Basin 82–3, 89ff.

and gas pipelines 30, 210, 274, 280–83 and India 146–51, 165 and Iran 177–81 and the ‘War on Terror’ 86, 90 and Turkey 169–71 as a great power 1, 87, 197, 239 as a neoimperial state 32–3, 198, 200 destiny of, separate from Europe 14, 18, 114 economic revival of 59, 65, 87–8, 119 foreign policy of away from Europe 110 assertive aspects of 5, 88, 285 cultural aspects of 26, 60, 170 economic aspects of 26 in Caucasus 25, 109–10 in Central Asia 1,109–10, 134–5 expanded role of 3, 196–7 successes and failures of 25, 94, 212, 255 influence of 54 interpretations of 5 multivectorial nature of 56, 138 national interest and 2, 55–6, 180, 196 nationalism in 88–9 opposition to Western security initiatives 111–2 policy objectives of 2, 16 pragmatic nature of 2, 56–7 public support of 59, 88 military ties of in Central Asia 93, 134–6, 205 in South Caucasus 112, 197, 199 political system of 58 resurgence of 86–7, 110 security of in 1990s 14 regional aspects of 13, 198 Russia–Georgia War 71–2, 96, 112 and EU 10 and OSCE 262–3 EU on 121, 205, 263–4, 266 Saakashvili, Mikheil 21, 71, 197, 202, 224, 233, 260, 263 Security in Caspian Sea region 23 in Central Asia 25

300

Index

Shanghai Cooperation Organisation (SCO) 62, 89, 132–3, 135, 181, 205, 228–30 Sino–Soviet relations 127–8, 139 Split in 127 South Ossetia 21, 25, 35, 60, 71–2, 91, 105, 112, 120, 130, 203, 233, 263–5 South Stream pipeline 97 Sovereignty in Central Asia and Russian policy 35, 71, 81, 200 TACIS 121 Tajikistan and European Union 108 and Russia 63–67 civil war in and Russian role 64, 181–2 foreign policy 86, 147, 156–7, 158–9, 208, 219, 222, 226 OSCE mission in 248, 257 TRACECA 121 Trans–Caspian pipeline 34, 117 Turkey and Eurasia 7, 19–20, 222 and Russia 169–71 foreign policy 172–5, 183–4 Turkmenistan and the European Union 108 and NATO 226–7 and Russia 68, 117 authoritarian regime in 68 energy politics in 22–3, 34, 68, 151–3 neutrality of 62, 69 Ukraine and NATO 223, 232–3 and Russia 16–7, 25, 30, 202–4 CSCE/OSCE mission in 257 energy politics in 87, 90–3, ‘Orange Revolution’ in 17, 210 relations with EU 114–5

Union of Soviet Socialist Republics (USSR) Collapse of 13, 83, 196 United States airbase in Kyrgyzstan 22, 29–30, 97, 112, 206–7, 222, 226–7, 235 and Caucasus 84–5 and Central Asia 84–5, 104, 134, 234, 292–4 after 9/11, 85ff. energy resources in 85, 165, 210 and Georgia 29, 105, 207 and Russia asymmetry of interests 30, 111, 130, 180–81, 256 in Eurasia 30, 32–3, 81ff. on oil and gas exports 91 in Kyrgyzstan 95, 135, 207, 227, 230 and Ukraine 20 containment of Russia 6 democratization and human rights policy 81, 222 in Eurasia 31ff. Uzbekistan and NATO 226–8, 232 and Russia 22–4, 69–70, 117, 210 and US 70 airbase 22–3, 94, 206, 222, 256 gas production of 22, 69, 91 politics in 182, 208 Xinjiang and Central Asia 42–3 Chinese policy in 42, 45, 130, 132–4 Yeltsin, Boris 82–3, 109, 115, 128, 134,137, 170, 180, 196, 217–8, 249, 251–3 Yushchenko, Viktor 17, 203, 210–1, 260