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  • Cold Comfort

    COLD COMFORT

    The Economist
    Sep 4th 2008

    The European Union unites in rather mild and belated criticism of
    Russia's war in Georgia

    DEPENDING where you live in Europe and whom you blame for the
    Russian-Georgian war, the European Union's emergency summit meeting
    on September 1st was a triumph, a failure or just the best that could
    be expected. Against objections from some Russia-friendly quarters,
    chiefly Italy's prime minister, Silvio Berlusconi, the EU condemned
    Russian actions in Georgia, agreed to step up efforts to help ex-Soviet
    countries under threat and blocked talks on a new partnership deal.

    Even agreeing that was tricky. Britain had been demanding a "root
    and branch" re-examination of the EU's relationship with Russia--a
    critical viewpoint shared with Poland, the Baltic states and Sweden,
    whose foreign minister, Carl Bildt, has explicitly compared Russia's
    tactics with Germany's in the 1930s. Most of the big European
    countries are a lot more cautious. They blame Georgia, seen as an
    irresponsible American protégé, for starting the war but object to
    Russia's precipitate diplomatic recognition of Georgia's two breakaway
    territories, South Ossetia and Abkhazia, and the lingering Russian
    military presence in buffer zones. Above all, they are glad that a
    row with an important trading partner has cooled.

    0AThe hope is that France's president, Nicolas Sarkozy, who is visiting
    Russia on September 8th, will bring back agreement on a Russian
    withdrawal in accordance with the ceasefire he brokered. Russia's
    president, Dmitry Medvedev, has promised this on at least four
    occasions. But Russia's prime minister, Vladimir Putin, has declared
    that the port of Poti, a long way from the separatist regions,
    is part of Russia's self-declared "security zone". His spokesman,
    Dmitry Peskov, said that Russian troops (now labelled peacekeepers)
    would maintain their "temporary presence". Even so, optimists think
    that it will soon be business as usual, particularly as Russia starts
    to count the economic cost of the war, which has sent shares plunging
    and encouraged capital flight.

    Maybe, but what is happening in practice is another story. Even the
    details of implementing the ceasefire are unclear. One reason is
    that the document itself is so vague. Veterans of the many ceasefire
    negotiations during the wars in former Yugoslavia in the 1990s were
    aghast when they saw the text, which exists in multiple inconsistent
    versions and lacks the vital specifics of dates and placenames, leaving
    far too much wiggle room. Russian officials now say that their forces
    will move back only when Georgia also abides by the agreement as they
    define it. They are demanding that Western countries observe an arms
    embargo on Georgia , the "aggressor" party. That leaves plenty of
    scope for quibbling and delay.

    A second problem is the role of the international monitors from the
    EU and the Organisation for Security and Co-operation in Europe,
    a Vienna-based international body that supposedly defuses the
    continent's conflicts.

    Will these people be allowed to move freely inside all of what the
    West regards as Georgia, including South Ossetia and Abkhazia where
    Russian-backed militias are engaged in purges of the ethnic Georgian
    population? Russia, at present, says that it is too dangerous to
    allow this.

    But if they are allowed in, on what terms will that be? Foreign
    journalists and diplomats are repeatedly told that they need documents
    issued by the separatist authorities--or in some cases, as shockingly
    happened to the French ambassador to Georgia, Russian visas. Georgia
    and its allies will vigorously resist the application of such rules
    to international officials.

    It is still unclear what Russia really wants in Georgia--or
    elsewhere. In Moscow, the mood is defiant, unrepentant and
    uncompromising. Mr Medvedev and a raft of top officials have scoffed
    at talk of serious punitive action.

    "Bring it on" appears to be their devil-may-care mantra. Convinced
    that the days of a unipolar Washington-centric world are dead and
    buried, Russia believes it has a privileged place at the top table of
    a fast-changing multipolar world. Any att empt to mete out punishment
    will backfire. "The G8 will be practically unable to function without
    Russia," Mr Medvedev calmly told Italian television. "That's why we
    don't fear being expelled." On NATO's freezing of ties with Russia,
    he remarked: "We don't see anything dramatic or difficult about
    suspending our relations...But I think our partners will lose more
    from that." Unmentioned but clearly meant was NATO's reliance on
    Russia to supply its forces in Afghanistan.

    The EU's mild rebuke and tentative sanctions brought an outright
    welcome. The freezing of talks on a new deal with the EU, already
    much delayed, is seen as of little importance. Though junior officials
    expressed irritation at "biased statements" in the EU declaration, Mr
    Medvedev hailed the union's avoidance of real sanctions as "reasonable"
    and "realistic". The president seemed to put all disagreement with
    Russia down to a temporary misunderstanding: it was "not fatal"
    because "things change in the world."

    Political corpse But not, it seems, as far as talks with the Georgian
    leadership is concerned. "President [Mikheil] Saakashvili no longer
    exists in our eyes," said Mr Medvedev. "He is a political corpse."

    Russia's foreign minister, Sergei Lavrov, advised Europe to decide
    its policy towards Russia based on its own "core interests" (ie,
    without America) in a speech larded with snide remarks about American
    arrogance and unilateralism. "The phantom of the Great Game wanders
    again in the Caucasus," he said. If America and its allies chose
    to side with what he called "Saakashvili's regime" it would be a
    "mistake of truly historic proportions".

    That fits with earlier Russian demands for a change of Georgian
    leadership.

    Russia has said that its prosecutors are collecting evidence in South
    Ossetia with which to indict Mr Saakashvili as a war criminal. Many
    of Georgia's Western friends would be delighted if someone with an
    easier personality (and greater readiness to listen to advice) were
    in charge. But they want that to happen as part of Georgia's normal
    internal politics, not as a putsch dictated by Moscow. As the box on
    the last page of this section points out, Georgian politicians now
    think the same.

    The double-act between Mr Medvedev and Mr Putin creates extra scope
    for manoeuvre. Mr Medvedev promises to calm things down. Then Mr
    Putin stirs them up again, accusing in all seriousness the Bush
    administration of staging the war to boost John McCain's election
    chances.

    Part of the motive for the war may have been to distract attention
    from problems inside Russia, such as inflation, corruption, squabbling
    inside the circles of power and t he failure to distribute fairly the
    proceeds of the oil and gas bonanza of past years. As the oil price
    falls towards $100 a barrel, the focus on that will sharpen.

    It is hard to avoid the conclusion that the most unpleasant side of
    Russian politics is leaking to its near neighbours. Over the weekend,
    Mr Medvedev said that protecting the lives and dignity of Russian
    citizens abroad was an "unquestionable priority", as well as protecting
    the interests of Russian businesses there. He also spoke of "countries
    with which we share special historical relations" where Russia has
    "privileged interests". Though Mr Medvedev stressed the need for
    friendly relations, he also implied that such countries might not
    have the option of following policies that Russia deemed unfriendly
    (such as wanting to join NATO or host American bases). It would have
    been hard to find anything more likely to make the fears of Russia's
    neighbours seem justified, to stoke Western support for them and to
    undermine those who think that Russia will soon return to "normal".

    Diplomatic support for Russia has been scanty, even among close
    allies. No country, Russia apart, has given the two statelets formal
    diplomatic recognition. Belarus and Tajikistan say they will do so,
    but the former, which is being squeezed by Russia over energy supplies,
    spoke in notably lukewarm terms and only after Russia's ambassad or
    to Minsk decried the government's "incomprehensible silence".

    Perhaps most significant has been the critical reaction from the
    intergovernmental Shanghai Co-operation Organisation, which Russia
    has been building up as a counterweight to American influence. A
    statement from its meeting last week supported Russian peacekeeping
    efforts but stressed the importance of territorial integrity and the
    peaceful resolution of conflicts. This was a clear snub that showed
    a startling lack of support for Russia's actions both from the four
    Central Asian members of the SCO and from China.

    Chill from China China's leaders have enjoyed unnerving America by
    flirting with Russia, but this has always stopped well short of any
    hint of confrontation.

    Although China's state-run media has avoided criticising Russia, and
    has highlighted the West's discomfort at Georgia's defeat, China's
    official position on Russia's recognition of the breakaway regions
    has been surprisingly chilly. A Chinese spokesman said his country was
    "concerned" and called for "dialogue and consultation". That reflects
    both China's pragmatic desire for good economic relations with the
    West, and also its dislike of both separatism and interference in
    other countries' internal affairs. With Tibet, Taiwan and restive
    Muslims to contend with, China takes a dim view of anybody chopping
    up other countries and declaring the results to be independent states.

    The same thinking has marred Russia's image in normally friendly
    countries such as Greece and Cyprus (which bristles about the
    Turkish-backed "pseudo-state") and Spain (which is twitchy about Basque
    and Catalan separatism). All this suggests a degree of miscalculation
    in Moscow. Over the past decade, the future of South Ossetia and
    Abkhazia was a useful bargaining chip. Now it has been cashed in,
    without much benefit.

    Cooking up new Russia policies will take time. The result may well
    not be to the Kremlin's taste. "We are back to square one," says
    Alexander Stubb, Finland's foreign minister. Many Western countries
    are now reassessing their relations with Russia in ways that range
    from the need for higher defence spending to a reduction in dependence
    on Russian energy. Mr Sarkozy says that France, which holds the EU
    presidency, will launch a big new defence initiative in October.

    The EU is better at giving carrots than wielding sticks. It will find
    it easier to provide generous support for the reconstruction of Georgia
    than do anything that might be seen as punishing Russia. Even so,
    timid as this response may seem, it is also something of a watershed:
    for the first time the EU's 27 countries got together and agreed on
    sharp public criticism of Russia.

    The United States has announced a $1 billion aid package for Geo
    rgia. The International Monetary Fund has agreed to lend the country
    $750m.

    Underlining Georgia's importance as an energy corridor, America's
    vice-president, Dick Cheney, visited the region this week. He hopes
    to get Azerbaijan to commit gas exports to the â~B¬8 billion ($11.5
    billion) Nabucco project, which extends a gas pipeline to Europe from
    Georgia and Turkey. But Nabucco's chances are looking increasingly
    slim. This week Russia stepped up its energy diplomacy, agreeing on a
    deal with Turkmenistan and Uzbekistan on a new pipeline via Russia that
    would entrench the Kremlin's hold on east-west gas supplies. Though
    the EU is Russia's largest customer, individual countries' dependency
    (see chart) has undermined the union's collective bargaining power.

    America is also supporting Georgia's demand for a tough non-recognition
    policy towards South Ossetian and Abkhaz independence. Companies
    doing business in the two self-proclaimed countries will find that
    their managers and shareholders cannot get American or European visas,
    officials say. But will big European countries such as Germany go along
    with that? Outsiders will be scrutinising closely the atmosphere at
    the annual German-Russian intergovernmental meeting in October--an
    occasion normally marked by warm rhetoric about the two countries'
    mutual interdependence.

    The mood in NATO is noticeably more hawkish than in the EU. A senior
    offici al says that the days when it was regarded as "taboo" to
    discuss any military threat from Russia in the alliance's contingency
    planning are all but over. When NATO defence ministers meet in London
    on September 18th, a big question will be how to defend existing
    members, chiefly the Baltic states, which are small, weak and on
    Russia's border. Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania joined the alliance
    in 2004, when such questions were dismissed as too theoretical to
    worry about (or alternatively too provocative to consider). Now they
    are unavoidable.

    Minorities as ammunition The potential flashpoint, as with the war
    in Georgia, is a legacy of the Soviet Union (see table). Russia
    says that the language and citizenship laws in Estonia and Latvia
    discriminate against Russian-speakers. The hundreds of thousands of
    people (mainly from Russia) who moved to these countries during the
    Soviet occupation did not automatically become citizens when Estonia
    and Latvia regained independence. Many were naturalised in the 1990s,
    and a steady trickle continue to pass the language exams and apply for
    citizenship. But an alienated minority of stateless people, and tens
    of thousands who carry Russian passports, are a potential nightmare
    for the Baltic states and their friends. Disturbances in the Estonian
    capital, Tallinn, last year over a clumsy government decision to move
    a Soviet war memorial inflamed feelings that have not yet subsided.

    Lithuania's problems are different (it has a small Russian minority
    which gained automatic citizenship in 1991). But it is a transit route
    for Russian troops to the exclave of Kaliningrad. That offers plenty
    of scope for provocation. Russia has cut off oil supplies, ostensibly
    because the pipeline is decrepit (but has refused a Lithuanian offer
    to pay for its repair). And populist parties led by politicians with
    strong Kremlin links are doing well in the run-up to a general election
    in October.

    Diverging footstepsThe Baltic armed forces are tiny and are configured
    to support NATO efforts in faraway countries such as Afghanistan,
    not to defend the region against a real attack from Russia. NATO's
    military presence consists only of a handful of fighter aircraft
    (currently four from Germany) based at an air base in Lithuania. It
    also has a cyber-defence centre in Estonia, and all three countries
    have NATO-standard radars that can look deep into Russia.

    Beefing that up without feeding Russian paranoia will be tricky.

    "Don't expect a fanfare," says the NATO official. "We will do it in
    a low-key, professional way." The Baltic states themselves will be
    expected to spend more on defence--no easy task as a sharp economic
    slowdown bites.

    Another question for NATO is how much help to offer in restoring
    Georgia's armed forces. Although Western military advisers have been
    sur prised, and even scandalised, by the poor showing of the Georgian
    army, which retreated in poor order, dumping huge quantities of donated
    American equipment and ammunition, Georgia itself is optimistic about
    rebuilding it.

    The other country most threatened by Russia is Ukraine. Mr Putin said
    in April that it risked dismemberment if it tried to join NATO, and
    opinion inside the country is deeply divided on the issue. Politics
    is unstable too: this week Ukraine's president, Viktor Yushchenko,
    threatened to call a snap election to defend himself against what
    he termed a "putsch" by parliament, which wants to strip him of his
    powers. The West will tread gingerly into that, though NATO may step
    up its fairly uncontroversial defence training activities.

    Yet NATO is barely less divided than the EU. It is not just that
    European countries blocked the American plan to give Ukraine and
    Georgia a clear path to potential membership at the alliance's summit
    in April. Turkey, the most important NATO member in the Black Sea
    region, is torn between the competing claims of strategic partnership
    with America and its strong trading links with Russia (which supplies
    most of its gas). Although Turkey has helped to train Georgia's armed
    forces (evidently not very successfully), it did not share radar
    and other military data with Georgia during the series of pinprick
    attacks by Russia that preceded the full-scale war.

    Turkey is pushing its own regional initiative, involving Russia and
    the Caucasus countries but not America. That might help settle another
    lingering conflict, between Armenia and Azerbaijan. But Georgia regards
    anything that excludes the United States as unacceptable. For now,
    the hottest issue for Turkey is whether to allow America to send more
    warships through the Bosporus straits into the Black Sea, something
    that Russia vigorously opposes.

    Having caught the West napping (or at least on holiday), Russia scored
    a pleasant victory over a weak and unpopular adversary. But now it
    has to deal with the consequences: war fever at home plus alienated
    allies and stronger critics abroad. Will Russia's leaders respond to
    this by raising the stakes, in the hope of showing their opponents'
    underlying weakness? The West's leaders worriedly hope not.

    --Boundary_(ID_dmC5CMgTJOBYDb2BjrWl2w)--
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