Now in many parts of the world, including Central Europe, Latin
America and East Asia (and perhaps Georgia, Armenia and to a lesser
extent Azerbaijan), a program of promoting democracy and free markets
makes perfect sense. But in much of the Caspian region, as in much of
Africa, the claim that American policy rests on the development of
"stable, free-market democracies" rings hollow, and is in fact an
illusion. For the expansion of U.S. geopolitical influence in Central
Asia is based on thoroughly rotten foundations: an opportunistic set
of dictatorships that are at once weak, brutal, unstable and
economically retrograde. The whole point of a client state is that it
should be stable. Otherwise, the patron state, far from benefiting,
risks being drawn further and further into a quagmire in order to
rescue its clients from internal revolt--as with the Soviets in
Afghanistan during the late 1970s or, for that matter, with the
British there in the early 1840s. There is also a moral aspect: faced
with threats in Central America, where its interests truly are vital,
the United States must play the "our sonuvabitch" game. To do so
where its influence is slight, its interests peripheral, and its
potential proxies extremely unpleasant is, however, immoral and
irresponsible.

This applies with particular force to proposals that Uzbekistan be
the key U.S. ally in the region and its regional "anchor." It is true
that without Uzbekistan as a base, the task of expanding U.S.
influence in Central Asia would prove exceedingly difficult--but that
truth just serves to highlight the foolishness of such a strategy.
For Uzbekistan under its current president, Islam Karimov, suffers
from just about every conceivable disqualification for such a role.
The regime's brutal repression of its domestic opposition makes it an
embarrassment, and any U.S. commitment to Karimov will be heavily,
and rightly, criticized by U.S. human rights groups. In fact,
Karimov's ruthless suppression even of moderate Islamist groups has
been a significant factor in their radicalization.

Despite, or perhaps due to, Karimov's iron rule, Uzbekistan is
increasingly unstable. Its economy is in shambles; it is reeling from
the effects of a population boom and an acute employment crisis among
its male youth; it is disliked and feared by its neighbors; and it is
mired in a set of regional conflicts and territorial claims in which
the United States has no interest whatsoever. Backing Karimov would
repeat every one of America's mistakes vis-Ã -vis the Shah's regime in
Iran in the 1960s and 1970s, and, worse, would do so for no
discernible purpose.

As in Uzbekistan, the failure of most Caspian regimes to develop
stable, new, post-communist structures derives from their highly
personalized, and in most cases extremely autocratic, structures of
governance. What will happen when the present generation of leaders
passes from the scene--which in the case of the ailing leaders of
Azerbaijan and Turkmenistan may be soon--remains uncertain. In the
absence of any clear mechanism of succession--whether democratic or
oligarchic--many of these leaders intend to establish their sons as
designated successors. But it is far from clear that other players in
these regimes will accept the notion of hereditary dynasty; and,
equally important, most of the designated sons are extremely
unimpressive characters. Under Soviet rule, they lived the lives of
playboy children of the Soviet elite, and subsequent exposure to
Western millionaire lifestyles has led them to embrace decadent
consumption on a scale not seen since the Indian Maharajas under
British colonial rule. With or without U.S. support, these rotten
vessels will not stay afloat for long once their fathers die.

At present, though, power in the region is still wielded by the old
Communist Party bosses and their personal and patronage networks. It
goes without saying that they have been unable to check their
countries' declines. Martha Olcott emphasizes

"the drastic decline in the ability of the Caspian governments to
maintain even minimal levels of public services and social welfare
protection, not to mention the kinds of benefits that the
pre-independence population enjoyed."

It is the nature of the post-Soviet regimes and the Soviet legacy,
then, not Russian or Iranian pressure, that is crippling growth in
the region.

In these circumstances, the rise of radical Islamism, especially in
the old Muslim centers of the overpopulated and ecologically ravaged
Ferghana Valley of Uzbekistan, is not hard to explain. Neither, for
that matter, is the rise of organized crime and narcotics production
and smuggling. Hence, when the present generation of leaders begins
to pass from the scene, the result is likely to be not
"democratization" but revolution and anarchy. Turkmenistan, for
example, where an extravagant personal dictatorship and "cult of
personality" around President Saparmurat Niyazov presides over a
largely tribal, pre-modern society with no local state tradition, has
more parallels with Somalia under Siad Barre than it does with Russia
to its north.

Russia's Weakening Presence

It should be clear from all this that the greatest threat to
stability in the Caspian region comes not from Russia or Iran, but
from within the individual countries. While Russian policy has
certainly contributed to the internal problems of Georgia and
Azerbaijan (and obviously Chechnya), in Central Asia the picture is
altogether different. In Uzbekistan and Turkmenistan, Russian
influence has for several years been quite limited. Insofar as close
ties have endured, it is only because those countries share a common
interest with Russia in combating mutual threats, most notably that
posed by Sunni radicalism.

In Kyrgyzstan, too, strong ties with Russia are not the result of a
forced hegemony but arise from that state's extreme weakness and fear
of its Uzbek and Chinese neighbors. The Kyrgyz fear the prospect of
overlordship by these nearby states far more than they do the fading
power of Moscow. There is in fact almost no chance that Moscow will
ever possess the will or even the desire to impose hegemony over most
of Central Asia, let alone the new "empire" with which so many
Western commentators have sought to terrify us.

In the Caucasus, Russian interests remain far greater, if only
because of the greater proximity of Russia's own territory. The
threats from ethnic and Islamist revolt (in the Russian northern
Caucasus) and from expanded U.S. and Turkish influence (in the
southern Caucasus) are keenly felt by Russian policymakers. Even in
the Caucasus, however, Russia's power now rests more on local allies
than on its own crumbling strength. Thus, Armenia has by far the best
armed forces in the region but welcomes the presence of Russian
troops (only about 6,000 of them by the last estimates) as security
against any future Turkish intervention on the side of Azerbaijan. To
judge by opinion polls and a recent visit of my own, this presence is
supported by an overwhelming majority of the Armenian population. Nor
is this at all surprising, given the past history of Turkish-Armenian
relations, and the historical failure of Western powers to aid the
Armenians.

The very unwelcome Russian presence in Georgia, by contrast, stems
from the Russian desire for influence over that state--or at least
from a wish to prevent the United States and Turkey from establishing
bases there--but it is also dictated by the Russian commitment to
Armenia, which requires a military position in Georgia to ensure
Russian lines of communication. A Russian withdrawal from Georgia can
therefore only take place in the context of a general settlement in
the region, and one in which both Armenians and Russians are assured
that their interests will be protected, and that retreat will not be
followed by Turkish advance.

Russian forces in Georgia have certainly played a destabilizing role
(though they also played a key part in ousting the crazy Gamsakhurdia
and bringing Shevardnadze to power in the winter of 1991-92, and
keeping him there in the autumn of 1993). Yet, the Russian stake
there is more ambiguous than has often been recognized. For if the
Russian commitment to Armenia requires a presence in Georgia, it also
gives Russia a certain interest in Georgian stability.

As several Armenian officials pointed out to me, if a new civil war
were to break out in Georgia involving the disruption of Armenia's
only trade route to Russia and the West, this would automatically
reduce Armenia to the appalling economic circumstances of 1992-94,
from which it has only partially extricated itself with difficulty
and suffering. Thus, the nature of the plot behind the recent
assassination of the prime minister of Armenia and his colleagues is
not yet clear and may never be; but an obvious factor was the extent
to which government, security services and politics have become mixed
up with organized crime in the country. As in Chechnya--though not
yet nearly to the same degree--this development risks destroying the
entire fabric of the state. It must also be noted that a large
proportion of the "Russian" soldiers stationed in Javakhetia, the
Armenian-populated area of Georgia, are actually local Armenians. It
is therefore an open question which is better for Georgia, a Russian
presence or a Russian withdrawal leaving behind a heavily armed local
militia.

Essay Types: Essay