Hard power in the Caucasus

Russia's willingness to break the so-called international rules of territorial integrity is less a c

For many so-called international affairs experts, Russia's recent invasion of Georgia marked a spectacular return to great power politics. A resurgent and deadly serious Russia, the argument goes, shocked the Western world into a 21st century reality that would mirror that of the 19th. The age of soft power ended on 8 August, 2008.

But, for those of us who have been long-time Caucasus watchers, soft power was never all that relevant.

Since NATO's surrender of initiative to Russia at this past April's Alliance summit in Bucharest, Moscow had stepped up its not-so-subtle jabbing of Georgia in the side through its two breakaway territories of Abkhazia and South Ossetia.

Before August, Russian fighters had already shot down Georgian reconnaissance drones, Russian bombers had already dropped warning munitions in Georgia proper, and Russian peacekeepers had already established a 15 year record of aiding separatist militias against Georgia.

An outright invasion was a surprise, but not a paradigm-shifting shock. More unexpected, however, was Russian President Medvedev's swift recognition of the breakaway territories as independent states. High-profile Russian Duma and Federation Council deputies had been calling for the move for years, so the unanimous votes in both houses of Russia's parliament were just one more small, populist step. But, few regional experts would have predicted a Kremlin endorsement, much less one the very next day.

Until now, the argument had been that while bombastic parliamentarians might threaten recognition to punish upstart Georgia on purely emotional grounds, the cool-headed Kremlin would resist the Pandora's box of officially sanctioning separatism and armed rebellion in the volatile Caucasus.

Moscow is still grappling with the remnants of two wars in Chechnya – just north of Georgia's South Ossetia – in which Russia risked international condemnation to crush separatist rebellions through campaigns of extermination that rivaled anything witnessed in the former Yugoslavia. With more than 160 distinct ethnic groups, Russia's vast expanse is a checkerboard just waiting to be riven by self-determination.

Paradoxically, however, it seems that Moscow's fury over the recognition of another breakaway territory: Kosovo, now firmly within the geopolitical bounds of NATO and the European Union, added fuel to the fire that finally lead to Russian tank columns streaming into Georgian territory. That is not to say that the West was wrong in recognizing Kosovo's independence. But, it is to say that Washington, London and other European capitals should have taken Moscow's threats seriously when it specifically mentioned recognition of Abkhazia and South Ossetia as retaliation for the move.

That lesson, the realisation that Russian leaders are serious when they threaten redirected nuclear targeting on the EU in response to US missile defense plans in Central Europe, that they are keenly intent on blocking Western access to the alternative energy resources of the Caspian, that they actively seek to carve out a sphere of influence to dominate EU-aspirant Ukraine and Georgia, is a valuable one.

It is a lesson that underscores the importance of Western preparation in the face of Moscow's distribution of passports in Ukraine's majority ethnic-Russian Crimean peninsula – the primary facilitating logic behind the Kremlin's claims to be protecting Russian citizens in South Ossetia.

Great power politics has not made a comeback. It was always the modus operandi on Europe's periphery. Not so far away places like Moldova, Armenia and Azerbaijan see the hard power of armed conflict every day. Were it not for the NATO military umbrella over the rest of the continent, Western Europe would not be immune to similar Metternichian machinations. And, it is for this reason that Russia's recognition of Abkhazia and South Ossetia should be seen for what it is: preparation for annexation of internationally-recognized Georgian territory to the Russian Federation.

Russia's willingness to break the so-called international rules of territorial integrity enshrined in post-1945 institutions is less a challenge to the ideas and ideals of those institutions and more a threat to the military and political frameworks that underpin them. In other words, Russia is challenging NATO, the EU, the UN Security Council and the might of the United States that keeps them afloat. Experts may point to the folly of such a decision, but it is in line with Russian actions on the Eurasian landmass since time immemorial.

Alexandros Petersen is Southeast Europe Policy Scholar at the Woodrow Wilson International Center for Scholars and Adjunct Fellow with the Russia and Eurasia Program at the Center for Strategic and International Studies, Washington

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The New Times: Brexit, globalisation, the crisis in Labour and the future of the left

With essays by David Miliband, Paul Mason, John Harris, Lisa Nandy, Vince Cable and more.

Once again the “new times” are associated with the ascendancy of the right. The financial crash of 2007-2008 – and the Great Recession and sovereign debt crises that were a consequence of it – were meant to have marked the end of an era of runaway “turbocapitalism”. It never came close to happening. The crash was a crisis of capitalism but not the crisis of capitalism. As Lenin observed, there is “no such thing as an absolutely hopeless situation” for capitalism, and so we discovered again. Instead, the greatest burden of the period of fiscal retrenchment that followed the crash was carried by the poorest in society, those most directly affected by austerity, and this in turn has contributed to a deepening distrust of elites and a wider crisis of governance.

Where are we now and in which direction are we heading?

Some of the contributors to this special issue believe that we have reached the end of the “neoliberal” era. I am more sceptical. In any event, the end of neoliberalism, however you define it, will not lead to a social-democratic revival: it looks as if, in many Western countries, we are entering an age in which centre-left parties cannot form ruling majorities, having leaked support to nationalists, populists and more radical alternatives.

Certainly the British Labour Party, riven by a war between its parliamentary representatives and much of its membership, is in a critical condition. At the same time, Jeremy Corbyn’s leadership has inspired a remarkable re-engagement with left-wing politics, even as his party slumps in the polls. His own views may seem frozen in time, but hundreds of thousands of people, many of them young graduates, have responded to his anti-austerity rhetoric, his candour and his shambolic, unspun style.

The EU referendum, in which as much as one-third of Labour supporters voted for Brexit, exposed another chasm in Labour – this time between educated metropolitan liberals and the more socially conservative white working class on whose loyalty the party has long depended. This no longer looks like a viable election-winning coalition, especially after the collapse of Labour in Scotland and the concomitant rise of nationalism in England.

In Marxism Today’s “New Times” issue of October 1988, Stuart Hall wrote: “The left seems not just displaced by Thatcherism, but disabled, flattened, becalmed by the very prospect of change; afraid of rooting itself in ‘the new’ and unable to make the leap of imagination required to engage the future.” Something similar could be said of the left today as it confronts Brexit, the disunities within the United Kingdom, and, in Theresa May, a prime minister who has indicated that she might be prepared to break with the orthodoxies of the past three decades.

The Labour leadership contest between Corbyn and Owen Smith was largely an exercise in nostalgia, both candidates seeking to revive policies that defined an era of mass production and working-class solidarity when Labour was strong. On matters such as immigration, digital disruption, the new gig economy or the power of networks, they had little to say. They proposed a politics of opposition – against austerity, against grammar schools. But what were they for? Neither man seemed capable of embracing the “leading edge of change” or of making the imaginative leap necessary to engage the future.

So is there a politics of the left that will allow us to ride with the currents of these turbulent “new times” and thus shape rather than be flattened by them? Over the next 34 pages 18 writers, offering many perspectives, attempt to answer this and related questions as they analyse the forces shaping a world in which power is shifting to the East, wars rage unchecked in the Middle East, refugees drown en masse in the Mediterranean, technology is outstripping our capacity to understand it, and globalisation begins to fragment.

— Jason Cowley, Editor 

Tom Kibasi on what the left fails to see

Philip Collins on why it's time for Labour to end its crisis

John Harris on why Labour is losing its heartland

Lisa Nandy on how Labour has been halted and hollowed out

David Runciman on networks and the digital revolution

John Gray on why the right, not the left, has grasped the new times

Mariana Mazzucato on why it's time for progressives to rethink capitalism

Robert Ford on why the left must reckon with the anger of those left behind

Ros Wynne-Jones on the people who need a Labour government most

Gary Gerstle on Corbyn, Sanders and the populist surge

Nick Pearce on why the left is haunted by the ghosts of the 1930s

Paul Mason on why the left must be ready to cause a commotion

Neal Lawson on what the new, 21st-century left needs now

Charles Leadbeater explains why we are all existentialists now

John Bew mourns the lost left

Marc Stears on why democracy is a long, hard, slow business

Vince Cable on how a financial crisis empowered the right

David Miliband on why the left needs to move forward, not back

This article first appeared in the 22 September 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The New Times