Like Providence in reverse, the Russian government seeks to arrange for the better not the future, but the past.-Aleksandr HerzenIt is very much in the Russian and, even more so, Soviet political tradition for rulers to deprecate their predecessors. As they ascend the power ladder, the would-be Kremlin occupants must profess complete loyalty to the current leader to succeed. Once in the country's new masters bolster their authority by dissociating themselves from previous leaders. Along with Russia's weak political institutions, which undermine the transitions' legitimacy, such repudiations almost inevitably result in the personalization of as the new occupants mold the political, social, and economic systems to their liking. Hence, Russian and-and especially-Soviet history have often resembled succession of distinct political regimes-indeed, sometimes different states under the same name.Thus, at first blush, this Kremlin's castigation of the 1992-99 period, which is portrayed as an unmitigated disaster, is not unusual. It is described as time of gratuitously and maliciously inflicted humiliation, of a failed state, and, most of all, of chaos.2 Advanced relentlessly, many Russian commentators (who quickly recovered their Soviet skill of line-toeing), and some leading Western media, editorialists, and pundits, have adopted this line of argument.3 The fact that booming economy has sprung from the alleged calamities of the preceding years, like Athena who appeared fully armed from Zeus's head, does not trouble the latter.4For all its conformity to national tradition, the propaganda campaign has several features that do not fit the usual pattern. First, President Vladimir Putin was-and continues to be-very popular, and does not need to gain additional legitimacy at his predecessor's expense. In the 1990s, moreover, the breadth and intensity of public criticism of the government (in newspapers, on television, and in the parliament) were unprecedented in Russian, let alone Soviet, history. All the many warts and boils, real and imagined, of the Boris Yeltsin regime were exposed and lanced at the time. Indeed, many Russian pollsters believe that much of Putin's popularity is due to his not being the late Yeltsin: very sick, often inebriated, and increasingly unsteady and erratic in public. Thus, harping on the very real failures and hardships of the Yeltsin years can hardly be expected to lower the public's opinion of them more than it already is.A plausible explanation is that the chaos mantra's aim is much higher. As often happens in Russia, the past is invoked to shape the present and the future. In this case, the denunciations of the 1990s may, the Kremlin hopes, help manage the tense transition ahead (or the risks of Putin's decision to rewrite the constitution and run again) and, more importantly, establish the direction that should take in the long run. No one disputes that in the 1990s, was the freest it had ever been, save for the nine months between February and November 1917. Just as undeniable is the ideology of the first postcommunist regime. As leading Russian political analyst stated, it was based on two simple ideas: that personal liberty is the foundation of progress of modern state and that Russia has no other way but to follow the Western model of development.5It is this ideology and this model that the current regime is determined to stamp with the cliche. If the freest in history produced nothing but misery and disorder, then liberty is, in principle, bad for it. Ergo, Putin's protoauthoritarian sovereign democracy and the vertical of power, in which the executive controls (or owns outright) other branches of government and key sectors of industry.Such fateful implications make the veracity of the chaos claim worth exploring. Specifically, one needs to ascertain, first, whether economic liberalization and democratization bear the primary responsibility for the chaos, and, second, whether there was anything but chaos in the 1990s. …
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