This presents different challenges for everyone. The Russian government fears that a nationalist-democratic consolidation on an anti-Putinist platform would make a much more formidable adversary than the ‘official’ opposition allowed in parliament. Russian democrats also have their own dilemmas as their flirtation with nationalism is on the verge of evolving into a marriage of convenience, a combination that could produce either their elixir of life or a toxic poison.

From imperialist to defensive nationalism

Nationalism is like software that can run on different platforms – from Windows to Android. As nationalism normally has little to say about economic or social policies, it can easily merge easier with other left- or right-wing ideologies, increasing exponentially the number of mutations to which it can be subject.

In post-Soviet Russia virtually all political forces – from Putin to the Communists – have flirted with nationalism. Despite various ideological platforms, the unifying feature of Russian nationalists for most of the 20th century, in its right-wing imperial and left-wing communist forms, was a drive for expansion and a ‘bigger Russia’. As Russia grew bigger, other ethnic groups were welcome, but they were also expected to acquiesce to the ‘elder brother’ in the short term, and assimilate in the long-term.

One of Vladimir Putin’s recent pre-election articles dedicated to the ‘national question’ largely subscribes to this view, even though he laments the ‘inadequate, aggressive, defiant and disrespectful’ behaviour of some migrants. But such imperialist nationalism was based on a strong confidence in Russia’s state capacity, power of territorial expansion and cultural attraction. However, the growing realisation of Russia’s structural problems – from demographic crisis to bad governance under Putin, topped by the economic crisis – has led to some structural shifts in Russian nationalism.

An increasingly obvious trend in the last few years is for the ‘old’ expansionist nationalism to rapidly lose ground to a new breed of isolationist, introvert and defensive nationalism that is primarily anti-immigrant and often anti-imperial. Such nationalism is more concerned with maintaining Russia’s ‘Russianness’ than with territorial expansion. The key source of this defensive nationalism is the toxic mix of high immigration into Russia coupled with a demographic crisis. With over 12 million migrants, Russia is the second biggest recipient of inward migration in the world after the US, though as a share of migrants per total population Russia only ranks 55th in the world.

From the nationalists’ perspective Russia’s demographic crisis is two-fold. One aspect is the decline of Russia’s population, with the treat of further decline due to the higher numbers of old than young. But from the nationalists’ perspective, graver still is the fact that the fall in numbers of ethnic Russians due to emigration, high mortality and low birth rates is faster than the overall demographic decline, the pace of which has indeed slowed, partly due to immigration (primarily from  Central Asia and the south Caucasus) and higher population growth among some Russian minorities, particularly in the north Caucasus. So the fear is not only about Russia’s decreasing population, but even more so about the fact that Russia is becoming less ethnically Russian.

The instinctive response to fears of relative demographic decline of ethnic Russians is a growing ‘fortress Russia’ syndrome. At its core, Russia’s defensive nationalism rests on a much-diminished belief in Russia’s power to expand and assimilate its periphery, particularly the culturally distant Muslim populations of Central Asia and the Caucasus. The nationalist schism is clearly visible at nationalist marches parts of the crowd shout ‘there is no Russia without Caucasus’ whereas other parts shout ‘Stop feeding the Caucasus’ and ‘Migrants today, Occupiers tomorrow’.

The democratic-nationalist mix

Now Russian nationalism seems to give birth to a new permutation – a merger of the defensive type of nationalism with elements of democratic and liberal thought. Some in Russia hope that this kind of mix will appeal to many young, urban, middle-class Russians who often see themselves as liberals, hold democratic views, despise Putin’s regime, and are western-leaning (though not uncritically so) while on the other hand being increasingly anti-immigration.

The new liberal-nationalist fusion gradually trickles down into the political process, as some democrats start to move towards the adoption of nationalist views, while at the same time some nationalists seem to have moved towards the centre ground. Vladimir Milov, a prominent Russian liberal, decided to take the bull by the horns by initiating a liberal-nationalist fusion that aims to reclaim nationalism from Russia’s extremist groups.

The liberal-nationalist mix has not yet crystallised in a series of coherent views and leaders, let alone organisations. But it is starting to take some shape. A good example is Alexei Navalny, the emerging star of the Russian opposition. He is a hugely popular anti-corruption campaigner, the most popular blogger in Russia and widely seen as the anti-Putinists’ best hope. His success is built on three pillars: anti-corruption campaigning, pro-democracy activism, and a pinch of moderate nationalism. He goes about these activities by a very savvy mix of internet activism (blogging, crowd-sourcing, etc.) and offline actions (minority shareholders activism, court actions, monitoring of public tenders, writing formal complaints to public institutions forcing them to respond, etc.). Now Moscow is buzzing with talk of Navalny as Russia’s future president.

Navalny himself is a democrat. He also has a strong record of taking part in democratic groups and movements in the last decade. He is also in favour of the separation of powers, transparency and other worthy causes. His declared belief is that ‘the purpose of the state is to ensure comfortable and dignified conditions for its citizens, and defend their individual and collective rights. A nation-state means that Russia should follow the European path, ie build our own nice, cosy, but strong and solid, little European house.’ Yet he also attends the ‘Russian March’, a notorious annual gathering of nationalists. Asked whether he supports the nationalist slogan ‘Russia for Russians’, he responded that he supports the slogan ‘Russia for Russian citizens’ – a slightly more inclusive slogan, demonstrating a tolerance of Russia’s ethnic minorities who are citizens, yet one which is still distinctly nationalist.

It is still unclear whether Navalny is a strong believer in a nationalist agenda or whether his professed nationalism is primarily a calculated strategy. Either way, the combination of democratic rhetoric with an anti-corruption agenda and nationalist undertones gives him a strong base from which to bridge a range of societal groups in Russia beyond most other potential leaders in Russia today.

Refreshing or toxic?

It is too early to tell whether the nationalist-democratic cocktail will prove a toxic liquid or the ticket to the future for the so far marginalised Russian democrats. Either way, the nationalist-liberal rapprochement sparks tensions within both camps. Some expansionist nationalists are fuming that the liberals are trying to turn the nationalists into ‘cannon fodder for a liberal revanche’. Whereas the liberals, as Andreas Umland points out, fear that nationalists could subvert pro-democracy movements.

Putin apologists seize on this. Some of them attack the popular Navalny by drawing parallels between him and Kerensky, the Russian burgeois revolutionary leader who came to power after overthrowing the Tsar in February 1917, only to be forced out by a ruthless communist coup led by Vladimir Lenin eight months later. The parallel is supposed to suggest that nastier forces will steal whatever democratic advances Russia might make once Putin is out.

But it is also possible that Russian democrats could expand their influence and ultimately help co-opt the potentially strong force of Russian nationalism, channeling it into a more democratic and pluralist direction. Either way, Russian liberals are now engaged not only in a contest with Putin’s system, but also in a tense, but irresistible tango with Russian nationalism.

Open Democracy, 3 February 2012

By the standards of Western democracies, falling just short of the 50% mark after three years of global economic crisis and 12 years in power would be a stellar victory. But in Putin’s Russia this is a serious setback for two main reasons. First of all, the elections were neither free, nor fair. Evidence of ballot stuffing is already swirling around the internet, and the election campaign was heavily biased in favour of United Russia. Federal TV channels and local authorities worked hard to persuade and pressurise people to vote for United Russia. Under normal campaign circumstances and with no ballot stuffing Putin’s party would perhaps have got somewhere closer to 30-35% of the vote. The authorities know that. This is hardly a rock-solid foundation for the supposedly Teflon President Putin who wants to be a fatherly leader of the nation for a life-time. His lifetime.

Secondly, all authoritarian regimes thrive on the political apathy of the governed. Ruling a politically apathetic population is cheaper, as elites need fewer resources for either coercion or co-optation, while having more time to enjoy on the benefits of power. Throughout the last decade, from the average voters’ perspective the question was why bother voting when life standards were rising, Putin was cool and the election results were always going to be another Olympic-size victory for United Russia.

But instead of apathy, in the run up to these elections the Russian intelligentsia was at boiling point. Political activism (mainly online) among the young and urban middle classes was at its highest. Among the glamorous ‘crème de la crème’ of Russian society – pop singers, ballerinas and TV stars – supporting Putin (and especially United Russia) became markedly uncool. In the absence of access to TV or wider platforms for discussion, Russia’s oversized blogosphere hotly debated whether to boycott the elections (the argument of the ‘Nah-Nah’ campaigners – one could translate this as ‘fuc-fuc’, a short form of ‘f..k off’), or go out and vote for any party except United Russia. True, this was a bit of a storm in a teacup. But nonetheless the spilt water also leaves traces outside the cup, consolidating the trend of rising anti-government feeling among the growing middle-class (even including the half of it that is employed by the state). This trend is not so much fuelled by a hope of change, but by the desire to punch United Russia in the nose. That too suggests a change in attitudes.

A parallel side-story is how the elections affect President Medvedev, who led United Russia’s electoral list. For friends, Medvedev is now the president who lost the presidency. For his intra-Kremlin adversaries, he is the president who lost the elections. After Putin announced his return to the presidency in September, Medvedev lost most of the small band of hopeful followers who believed in his talk of modernisation. Now his adversaries will frame the results as due to a failure of Medvedev’s leadership, rather than a vote against Putin’s system and the fear of ‘Brezhnevisation’.

Medvedev could try to re-establish himself as a stronger player by once again sacking some powerful people. This was virtually the only daring thing he did as a president, when he sacked a powerful finance minister, several long-serving governors of Russian regions and the mayor of Moscow. This response may signal that he is not a spent political force, but it could also fuel further splits among the ruling elites, accelerating the erosion of Putin’s system.

However, beyond the headlines about possible decline there is room for a note of caution. Putin thrives on crises. His presidency was forged in the 1999 crisis: a time of terrorist attacks in Russia, war in Chechnya and struggles with rival oligarchs. Even if United Russia has fewer MPs, the other 3 parliamentary parties are willing collaborators, provided they get a slightly higher share of rent-seeking opportunities. Such an arrangement would not be novel. In United Russia’s first term in the Duma, from 1999 to 2003, it even had fewer members of parliament than now. Yet this did not prevent Putin from making some of his sharpest ever political manoeuvres – centralising power by kicking regional governors out from the upper chamber of the Parliament, asserting full control of the media that matters, throwing Khodorkovsky in jail and two other formerly powerful oligarchs Berezovsky and Gusinsky out of the country. In other words, even if Putin’s beginning of the end has started, it is not around the corner yet.

The report has been endorsed by several foreign policy personalities in Europe. Here are some of the endorsements:

“This report is an important analysis of where Russia stands today and what opportunities this brings for the EU. It will open a much-needed and interesting debate.”

Javier Solana, former EU High Representative for the Common Foreign and Security Policy; former Secretary General of NATO

“This report is extremely insightful both for its great analysis as well as policy recommendations proposed which touch upon both foreign, economic and energy policies. The report is indeed a real working agenda for the European Union.”
Massimo D’Alema, President, Italianieuropei Foundation; President, Foundation for European Progressive Studies; former Prime Minister and Foreign Minister

Sergei Guriev, Rector of the New Economic School, Moscow

“A well-researched and panoramic survey of the Russian regime’s stagnant, self-destructive and malignant approach at home and abroad. It is essential reading for anyone interested in Russia, and impatient for a more robust EU policy to its eastern neighbours.”

Edward Lucas, International Editor, The Economist

“This is a very timely study on a changed Russia facing stagnation and many unresolved problems under the renewed leadership of Vladimir Putin. It is time for the EU to develop a coherent strategy to engage a “post-crisis Russia” likely to act more soberly and pragmatically. The proposed options for a “pro-active EU policy on Russia” provide an excellent starting point for European policy-makers.”

Dr. Andreas Schockenhoff, Coordinator of German-Russian Inter-societal Cooperation of the German Federal Foreign Office, MP and Deputy Chairman of the CDU/CSU Parliamentary Group

“The EU can and should have good relations with Russia; this ECFR report indicates what the priorities should be. Wishful thinking needs to be abandoned, yet respect for universal values strengthened, as Europe re-engages Russia into closer cooperation.”
Adam D. Rotfeld, former Minister of Foreign Affairs and Co-Chairman of Polish-Russian Group on Difficult Matters

“A very timely and much-needed document.”

Vaira Vike-Freiberga, former President of Latvia

1) Less time for foreign policy    

When your house is burning, this is a bad time to be chatting or engaging neighbours. When political leaders and administrations are engaged full time in managing the economy – saving the Euro, reducing public spending or stemming the tide of unemployment, foreign policy is pushed even more to the bottom of the list of priorities. Leaders simply have less time and desire to understand or strategise about how to react to foreign policy events – be it Putin’s return to the presidency, the latest turn in the political mess of Egypt, Tunisia or Ukraine. And foreign policy issues which sometimes need not just competent diplomatic management, but also high-level political drivers, is relegated to working level – where many issues cannot be solved. Foreign policy matters are then seen like issues that need to be put aside, postponed, thrown under the carpet and get out of the way until more urgent problems are solved.

2) Fewer money 

Foreign policy is costly. Some money need to be spent on military resources and other – on assistance. Both of these types of spending buy the EU various degrees of influence, power and diplomatic weight.

The amount of EU spending for foreign policy is the result of a trade off between moral commitments (to help those in need of humanitarian assistance, post-colonial guilt), self-interest (stabilise countries, use political influence to promote economic interests, give aid to reduce emigration) and politicians’ accountability to voters. With a growing pie – politicians and decision-makers could get a decent balance between these various imperatives. But with a shrinking pie, a more egoistic narrow-mindedly voter oriented behaviour is likely to come to the forefront. This will restrain EU member states’ desire to spend money internationally. The increasing number of those affected by unemployment or salary cuts might suddenly become much less altruistic internationally and put increasing pressures on elites to spend money at home. At the end of the day foreign aid recipients don’t vote and a generously funded foreign policy is likely to be increasingly seen as something of a luxury.

All this is a huge problem for all great foreign policy powers, but especially for the EU, which in the absence of hard power has relied so much on economic power, conditionality and financial aid as its main foreign policy tools. On this the EU is like an investor with a shockingly undiversified portfolio of investments, to use Nick Witney’s parallel.

The EU takes a lot of pride in the fact that it is the biggest donor in the world. But even before the acute phase of the euro-crisis the political relevance of EU aid in the emerging world was undermined by alternative sources of funding for many of the emerging countries –from China,Russia, or their own burgeoning economies. Now the EU not only has to compete for political influence with other aid donors which is debilitating in itself, but might also face the need to reduce foreign policy funding. This is EU’s foreign policy double dip: the loss of relative influence compared to the other powers (due to their rise), supplemented now with loss of foreign policy resources not just in relative, but also absolute terms.

A side-effect of this problem also relates to market-access related conditionality. For decades the EU used access to the EU market as a carrot which is exchanged for all kinds of concessions – economic or political (such as the human rights conditionality in EU association agreements). But now, this tools might also become problematic on two accounts. First, the ‘carrot’ of EU’s stagnating market might become less attractive in relative terms (again not least by comparison with faster growing alternative markets). And second, the ‘carrot’ might be put out of sight for some external partners as a result of potential protectionist backlashes inside the EU.

While other powers, such as the US or Russia are also affected by the crisis, in financial dire straits they are still left with raw military power or assertive high-quality diplomacy. The EU has little hard power, fewer money, a half-baked External Action Service and a disparaged collection of divided national foreign ministries. This is roughly like the (probably Chinese) saying that ‘in a famine a fat man looses weight, and a thin man dies’.

3) The euro-crisis of soft power

The third serious effect of the euro-crisis is on EU soft power, which is supposedly based on EU attractiveness as a prosperous, well-functioning model. I have argued before that ‘soft power’ has an element of free-riding to it. For the last twenty years the EU’s main foreign policy occupation has been teaching other how to live and making them want what the EU wants. This foreign policy model was reaching its limits already before the crisis as it was hitting the limits of cultural fascination with Europe which was much more valid in Central Europe in the 90s and the Balkans, than it is in the Middle East or much of the post-Soviet space (see ECFR report on the Limits of Enlargement-lite). But now this foreign policy model is evaporating. Few, if any foreign policy partners of the EU are likely to aspire to be like Europe. The fastest growing economies in Europe in 2010 were Turkey, Belarus and Moldova. Hardly a good advertisement for EU’s economic model.

Again, the draining of ‘soft power’ is costlier for the EU than for other powers like the US, whose ‘soft power’ also had to suffer as a result of the crisis, but whose ‘power portfolio’ is better hedged. The US at least retains hard power, whereas the EU had no hard power, and its ‘soft power’ might be entering into a coma.

The progress reports are mainly concerned with legislative adjustments, which correspond to Phase 1 of the Action Plan. Evaluating realities will come next years. In order to somehow quantify the conclusions I also decided to give a ‘plus’ to the country that is ahead with some reforms, and a ‘minus’ to the country that lags behind the other (a simplified version of what ESI did with the Schengen White List project). Giving just plusses and minuses is of course quite simplistic, but nonetheless a useful exercise for a ‘quick and dirty’ look at where Moldova and Ukraine stand in relation to each other. I also decided to give additional bonuses in the form of half or full plusses to some areas which are much more important than the others (like introduction of biometric passports – a full plus, or half-pluses to having a half-functioning migration service or having implementing protocols for readmission agreements with EU member states). Finally, the table does not mention all the areas or laws mentioned in the progress reports, but only those where (comparative) value judgements are made and progress is assessed. So here is the table on who does better in the visa-dialogue with the EU: Ukraine or Moldova?

Introduction of the progress reports

Block 1: Document security, including biometrics

Block 2: Irregular migration, including readmission

Block 3: Public Order and Security

Block 4: External Relations and Fundamental Rights

Moldova-Ukraine: 14 vs 9

Moldova gets 14.5 plusses (13 plusses + 1 bonus point for having switched to the issuance of biometric passports only and 0.5 for the implementing protocols of the readmission agreement with EU members states). Correspondingly Moldova gets 9 minuses for those areas where it lags behind Ukraine. The minuses for Moldova are related to: the legislative framework in border management and the creation of a Migration Service (now the Border Guards Service of Moldova and the Migration and Asylum Bureau of the Ministry of Interior should be merged, which would result in the creation of Border Police under the Ministry of Interior), the signature of readmission agreements with Russia and several half- or non-European states from Turkey to China, anti-corruption legislation, anti-drug efforts and cooperation with the corresponding EU agency (EMCDAA) and negotiations with Eurojust on a cooperation agreements.

Ukraine gets 9.5 plusses (9 points + a 0.5 bonus for the Migration Service. The bonus is not so much for the functioning of the service ‘which needs to be consolidated’ but more due to the fact that the corresponding counterpart in Moldova has not even been mentioned in the report). The areas where Ukraine clearly needs to do some catching up are in the signing of Implementing protocols for the Readmission Agreement with the EU and moving faster on the roll-out of biometric passports. Whereas Moldova switched to the issuance of biometric passports only in January 2011 (except in consulates), Ukraine is still stuck with its policy process. In September the Ukrainian parliament adopted a law opening the way for the issuance of biometric passports, but then president Yanukovich vetoed it in October and the Government started to work on a new bill. In other words on biometric passports Moldova is at least a couple of years ahead, since it takes time and money to equip all passport-issuance authorities (so-called UOVIRRs) as well as all the border crossing points with the necessary equipment to produce and read biometric passports. It also seems that Moldova is more advanced on several fronts when it comes to legislative harmonisation with the EU on migration and asylum policy, combating trafficking in human beings, and preventing money laundering. Moldova is also more advanced in the development of a migration profile. One word of caution relates to the setting up of an anti-corruption agency. Ukraine is supposed to set up one, whereas Moldova has had one for over a decade. Yet in the case of Moldova, the anti-corruption centre often became an instrument in the hands of the high-, mid- and even low-level officials not so much to combat corruption as to benefit from it through the extraction of rents and pressures on businesses.

Finally, adopting laws is good, but implementing them is much tougher and longer. This is where the real test for Moldova and Ukraine will come. The next EU progress reports should start looking into the murkier area of how laws are implemented, not just how fast they are adopted (and even at this stage I am not very impressed by the speed of legislative adjustments. If the two countries have such lacunae on adopting laws, how long will it take to implement them?) Judging from the current report I would say the next big test for Moldova is the setting up of the Border Police and for Ukraine to move much faster to issuing biometric passports only (instead parallel issuance of both types of passports).

PS. Once Russia and EU publish their ‘common steps’ towards visa liberalisation in December, it will be interesting to look into who’s faster in fulfilling the necessary conditions in a three-way race between Russia, Ukraine and Moldova.

EU member states differ widely not just in the application of visa procedures, but also on how fast the EU should move towards a visa-free regime withRussia. Russia and the EU apparently agreed on a set of common steps to undertake towards the visa free regime and should make the agreement public at their next summit in December. The ‘common steps’ are presumably supposed to be quite similar to the EU action plans on visa free travel offered to Moldova and Ukraine.

From an EU perspective there are two possible approaches to the issue of liberalising visas for Russia. One approach is to set the bar high (as the EU did in the Western Balkans), and demand not just improvement of border-management and security of documents, including biometric passports, but also wider and deeper reforms of the law-enforcement agencies, fight against corruption and improvements in the human rights record. Some officials in several EU member states, including Germany, suggest that the EU should link the EU offer of a visa-free regime to Russia to some political or security issues where the EU wants to see some progress. In such a case the EU would treat the offer of a visa-free regime to Russia as the highest possible prize for which Russia should sweat a lot. Under such an approach fighting corruption would minimize the dangers that the Russian passports might be acquired/bought by potential third country illegal migrants as a one-way ticket to the EU; and improving the human rights record and fighting torture would dry up the legitimate reasons for Russian to claim asylum status in the EU (data in Part 1). Finally, the EU then has to inspect and monitor Russian compliance with EU demands.

The problem is that such a strongly conditional approach has worked on Serbia, might work on Moldova, but is unlikely to work on Russia. The Russian elites have few problems in getting EU visas, and holders of diplomatic passports travel visa-free already (to Schengen, but not to the UK). They will not change the way Russia is governed and their positions in power for the sake of the average Russian’s possibility to travel visa-free to the EU. The EU is also unlikely to descend with fact-finding missions to see how the border is controlled between Russia and Kazakhstan or Mongolia, the way they checked Serbian-Bosnian border, or would check the Moldovan-Ukrainian borders. The EU member states are also not united enough in their application of visa policies to be able to leverage their joint influence over Russia. This offers ordinary the Russian state and ordinary Russians simply engage in ‘visa shopping’ rather than comply with EU conditions. The divergent visa policies of EU states described in Part 1 are proof of that.

An alternative approach is to liberalise the visa system as soon as possible in the hope that this will have a gradual transformational effect on Russian society. Proponents of such an approach argue that the visa-free regime with Russia should be treated as a tool of helping Russia to modernise. By opening borders, the argument goes, the EU will contribute to the modernisation of Russian society through greater and easier business, educational and cultural contacts with the EU for the Russian middle class. But of course there is little enthusiasm in the EU in being seen as offering such a present to Putin’s third presidency.

It is not that different member states adopt one of the two approaches (though they often lean towards one of them), but also different players within the same member state are quite divided: diplomats and the business community tend to favour a more liberal approach (see this position paper by the German Committee for Eastern Economic Relations or a study from the European Tour Operators Association), whereas law-enforcement agencies in the same states prefer a tougher approach.

Ultimately, the question is not whether to move towards a visa-free regime with Russia, but how quickly and under what conditions. Those who fear a relatively quick liberalisation of the visa regime have a point. An EU diplomat told me once that ‘Russia is so big – you can take a chance with visa free for Macedonia, but not with Russia’. An Estonian diplomat argued that ‘it is easy for Spaniards to push for visa free withRussia. They will get the rich oligarchs on the Spanish coast, and we will get the petty criminals from Pskov region’. With the current debate on immigration – most EU politicians have little to gain from a visa-free regime with Russia and a lot to loose in terms of public support in many EU countries.

Yet the current system does not work either. It penalises ordinary citizens, and its application is not uniform enough to give EU member states joint leverage over Russia. The conclusions is that in the short term what the EU needs is a middle way that reconciles the need to open up EU borders for legitimate travellers from Russia, while keeping a strong enough monitoring mechanism that would assuage reluctant EU member states. A European version of the Mexican system of ‘electronic visas‘ for Russians (and Ukrainians) could be such a solution that fits into the ‘smart borders‘ approach and could be applied to those who already had Schengen visas once. And in the mid-term, once the conditions of the ‘common steps’ are fulfilled, a fully fledged visa-free regime would follow.

Divergent visa practices

Not surprisingly, EU member states approaches to visa policies on Russia vary hugely. Some EU member states like Belgium, Germany or the Netherlands, and almost all the ministries of interior across the EU are in favour of a more restrictive approach to visas. Such policies are driven by several concerns.

First – are the risks of excessive immigration. Many also argue that the existing visa regime limits the flow of potential asylum seekers or petty criminals from Russia. In fact, Russia is the second most important source of asylum seekers in the EU after Afghanistan, and ahead of Iraq and Somalia. Furthermore, Europol’s annual Organised Crime Threat Assessment OCTA 2011 warned that visa liberalisation with Russia “may lead to widespread abuse” and this would “undoubtedly present new opportunities for organised crime groups involved in illegal immigration”.

In the view of others, a potentially useful side effect of the visa-regime is that EU or its member states can impose travel-restrictions. For example, Estonia blacklisted some activist of a thuggish pro-Kremlin youth group called Nashi believed to be behind the assault on the Estonian embassy in Moscow in 2008 (the former leader of Nashi is now an official; and still on the visa ban). With the US introducing visa bans against roughly 60 Russian officials involved in the death of lawyer Magnitsky and the European Parliament calling for a similar ban, a Russian expert argued that such “visa bans have the potential to moderate potential human rights abuses by various officials. They won’t stop stealing, but would think twice before doing really nasty abuses.”

Source: European Commission

On the other end of attitudes are a group of EU member states that are much more liberal. States like Spain, Italy, or Greece are keen to encourage tourists and are very liberal in the issuance of visa. They often ask for fewer supporting documents, have lower refusal rates and offer more long-term multi-entry visas. The most liberal of all is Finland. It issues almost as many visas in Russia as Germany, France and Italy put together. And the Finnish consulate in St Petersburg, dubbed by fellow EU member states the ‘Finnish visa factory’ is the biggest EU consulate in the world issuing over 700.000 visas annually, followed by the Spanish consulate in Moscow with around 438.000 visas issued in 2010. Equally striking is that 98.8% of Austrian visas issued in Moscow or 96% of Finnish visas issued in St Petersburg are multi-entry, whereas only 1.6% of Czech visas issued in Moscow are (all the data is from the European Commission).

The ‘liberals’ also argue that, under the current system most of those who potentially threaten EU security have the means to get the visas. Criminals or corrupt officials have the money to make reservations in posh hotels or buy property in the EU which are strong reasons to be granted a visa. However, the current visa policies close the door for ordinary Russian citizens, while hardly restricting the movements of the rich and often corrupt elite. As an important side-effect, EU visa policies also undermine EU soft power, while hardly being an obstacle for sophisticated Russian organised crime networks.

It is also worth noting that the state of political relations with Russia is not a good indicator for approaches to visa-policy. Most of the Central European EU member states are rather liberal in their approaches even if many of them have difficult political relations with Russia; whereas some of Russia’s closest partners in the EU, like Germany, can be quite difficult on visas.

Russia’s approach to visas – hardly liberal, or reciprocal

Russia’s approach to the issue of visas is a mixture of criticising the EU for a discriminatory policy, lobbying EU member states for a visa-free regime, and retaliating against specific EU member states with tougher visa requirements. One such instance came in autumn 2010 when Russia introduced tougher conditions for German citizens such as requesting proofs that they will return to Germany, bank statements, property deeds, or company registration certificates, mirroring German requests from Russian citizens.

Overall,Russia tries to apply the principle of reciprocity in its visa policies with the EU. Yet, looking into the details of it this is not always true. For sure the EU visa regime is highly restrictive, but Russia’s visa regime is equally cumbersome and on the margins can be even tougher. To begin with, Russia does not have the same wide-spread policy of granting long-term multi-entry visas like Austria, Finland or the UK (mostUKvisas are for 6 months and multi-entry) even for the citizens of these three countries. So Russia is happy to reproduce the worst EU visa practices, but prefers not to reciprocate on the better aspects of EU visa policies.

In addition, Russia has other requirements which complicate the travelling of EU citizens to Russia– a foreigner visiting any place in Russia for longer than three days needs to register with the authorities. So the paradox is that a Russian citizen who obtained a Schengen visa can visit 25 countries from Estonia to Portugal and Iceland to Greece without any restrictions, yet an EU citizen visiting Russia has to register with the federal migration service every time for stays longer than 3 days or when visiting other towns for longer than 3 days. Hotels do such registrations automatically, but visiting friends or relatives in Russia is more difficult, since they have to go through these pretty bureaucratic procedures themselves. Though, the current system is something of an improvement. Just a few years ago foreigners had to go to the police to register which was time consuming and was best solved with a bribe.

Part 2 will follow soon…

China and the break-up of USSR

A colleague of mine and I asked the Chinese how do they see the break-up of USSR. Here is the answer we got:

‘We had a big debate about whether this is good or bad for China. Some ideological people were saying this is bad because it undermines the attractiveness of Communism. But the pragmatists were saying this is good for China. And it is true, after the break-up of USSR we have very good relations with Russia. Better than ever before.’

The untold part of the answer is of course the fact these ‘better than ever’ relations are build on a very different balance of power and a Russia that is much weaker than USSR. As I wrote previously, Chinese views on the post-Soviet space do not differ much from those in Europe or the US. They differ in style (China is more deferential to Russia), but not in substance.

It is also apparent that the stronger China got, the better its relationship with Russia became. Another Chinese also suggested that China-Russia energy relations have been ‘unlocked’ by the economic crisis, since Russia’s need for cash opened the way for the USD 25bn loan-for-oil deal with Rosneft. A Chinese professor put it in the following terms: ‘How can you have a good sleep when you sleep with a bigger man?’ That referred to USSR, but not to Russia.

Is Russia a BRIC?

We also asked the Chinese whether they consider Russia is a BRIC country. Not in a technical sense as the source of letter R in this acronym, but whether they consider Russia a rising power – economically and politically. Instead of a reply, we heard a joke:

‘A BRIC summit is discussing how and when to unseat the US dollar as a global reserve currency. After days of deliberations the leaders of BRIC countries decide to go and ask God about the prospects of their currencies to become global reserve currencies. The first to go is Dilma Rousseff, president of Brazil – she asks God when will the real become a reserve currency. A few minutes later she returns crying. Her RIC colleagues ask her ‘what happenned?’ ‘God said I will not live to see that’ she explained.

Manmohan Singh goes to ask God when will the Indian rupee become a global reserve currency. Just like Dilma Rousseff he returns crying after a few minutes. God told him that the Rupee won’t become a reserve currency in his lifetime.

Hu Jintao goes through the same experience.

Then Medvedev goes to God. A few minutes later Medvedev returns completely calm. The others ask him what happened, and Medvedev replies: ‘I asked God when will the Rouble become a global reserve currency… and God started to cry. I asked him what happened, and he told me this will not happen in his lifetime…’

(I heard a similar joke about corruption in Romania). The joke is half funny, but captures how many Chinese see Russia.

Putin or Medvedev?

Just like the US and EU almost unashamedly prefer Medvedev to Putin, the Chinese equally unashamedly seem to prefer Putin to Medvedev. We asked why. One answer was that ‘Medvedev is pro-Western, and Putin is pro-Russian’. Another Chinese regretted the times when Russia was on the frontlines of opposition to the US. As one Chinese intellectual explained: ‘It is difficult for China alone to be against the US. With other powers – we can do it. Before, when Putin was president, Russia was much more active in the UN Security Council. But after the reset US-Russia reset we have to be smarter on how to promote out views in the UN. We do not want to face US pressures on our own.’

Many of them, though, highlight that before ‘Libya’ they didn’t matter much whether it is Putin or Medvedev, but that Russia’s failure to veto the resolution over Libya and the clash between Medvedev and Putin over the issue lead them to believe Putin is ‘closer’.

- Why? – I asked.

-Because ‘Medvedev did not veto UNSC resolution 1973.’

- But China didn’t block it either? Medvedev did what China did, so why do you say Putin is closer?

- Yes that’s true, but it was better before…

It sounds almost counter-intuitive that China, which has a careful, quiet, and markedly non-aggressive diplomatic style misses Putin’s Munich-speech style rants. But then those speeches allowed China to get the best of two worlds – cooperate with the US, while also enjoying from the sidelines Russia spearheading opposition to the US.

The 20 February movement

Speaking at an Italian restaurant in Rabat some early-twenties activists from the ’20 February movement’ are saying that ‘We do not feel represented by the existing political parties. We want a monarchy like in Holland. For now we are asking for reforms, not regime change.’ The movement is not a typical youth movement modelled on the type of Otpor in Serbia, Pora in Ukraine or Kefaya in Egypt. Actually the early-20s activists of the Moroccan movement have not even heard of Kefaya. Their movement brings together or is supported by a ragtag of young urban middle class ‘spoiled kids’, the outlawed Islamist movement Al-Adl Wal Ihsane (Justice and Spirituality) and leftists disappointed with the left-wing parties. On 20 February they brought together a few hundred thousands people on the streets of several Moroccan cities to voice their demands for greater democracy. Now they organise such big marches once a month. In the meantime they organise smaller sit-ins, flash-mobs and days of giving flowers to the police, donating blood, or supporting Libya.

The protests are not likely to lead to a revolution, yet the mosaic of the movement is potentially hugely disruptive of the Moroccan political system as we know it. For decades the crown positioned itself between the secularists and the Islamists. But these forces are now united in contesting the existing political regime. This is also one of the lessons from Tunisia and Egypt, where much has been done about the Muslim Brotherhood protesting against Mubarak shoulder to shoulder with Facebookers and Coptic Christians. The Moroccans learned the lessons. The secularists and the Islamists are (for) now united in wanting a drastic curbing of the powers of the king and the creation of a parliamentary monarchy. Then, as a 20 February Movement activist says, ‘we all agree we want a democratic system. Later, we will compete against each other. We agree on the need for democracy, not on a concrete political agenda.’ And the monarchy is not in the middle anymore, it is poised against them.

The King’s Speech

On 9 March the king gave a speech announcing a constitutional reform process.  The Moroccan Foreign Minister Taib Fassi Fihri claimed in an article in Le Monde that Morocco has been in an ‘Arab spring’ phase – evolutionary changes and gradual liberalisation – for many years. Yet the process is faulty and hugely top-down. The king invited political parties and other groups to submit their ideas. Then a group of constitutionalists will design amendments to the constitution. But opposition journalists sympathising with the 20 February movement say commission for constitutional reforms visibly consists of only ‘servants to the palace’. There is no process of negotiating, agreeing or even debating properly the new constitutional amendments. Invited parties are supposed to send in their suggestions and the king and his experts will decide on the changes by 30 June. Then, sometime in September a referendum will be held and is certain to pass. Leaving the procedural issues aside, some substantial issues also seem to cloud the process. The King’s speech referred to the need to reform the constitution while within ‘constantes sacres’, among which the sanctity of the monarchy and the role of Islam.

Political parties and protesters alike all agree that Morocco should move from the current system where the king, not the government, governs, to a system where the king that does not govern. Yet, political parties give the king the benefit of the doubt and participate in the process, whereas protesters on the streets do not. Many see the constitutional reform process as an attempt to fake some reforms, buy time, let the tsunami pass, amend the constitution without changing the fundamentals of the political system. As a civil society activist says: ‘the king initiated the process under the pressure of the street and events in Tunisia and Egypt, not from an enlightened impulse.  In his 12 years since he is king he did not nothing of the sort.’ Thus many see that street pressure is the only factor that could maintain the momentum for reforms. The Moroccan foreign minister wrote in relations to Egypt and Tunisia that there is ‘no guarantee that the ‘Arab spring’ will lead to an ‘Arab summer’. One cannot totally discard the arrival of a ‘sobering winter’. But the same might refer to Morocco as well. There is not guarantee that the constitutional reform will bring about ‘a Moroccan summer’ to the country’s democratic developments.

Overall, gradualism and evolution is the talk of the town. But should this round of constitutional amendments fail to alter the system significantly, the next time the protests might be less loyal to the king than they are now and those who are loyal to the process now might not be as loyal next time.

The ‘Arab spring’ has not left Kingdom of Morocco untouched. Protesters across the country demand more limits on royal power and less corruption and clientelism around the palace. Few challenge the monarchy itself, but a wide range of forces demand a system where the king ‘reigns, but does not govern’. King Mohammed VI launched a process of constitutional reforms in an attempt to shore up the monarchy’s legitimacy and be seen as responding to the demands of the ‘Arab spring’. Morocco might not face a revolution, but the road ahead for Morocco might still be quite bumpy.

The political system

Morocco’s political system is a strange-ish hybrid. One the one hand it has a dominant monarchy with strong executive powers. The monarchy dominates political and economic life. The king reigns and governs. Yet, Morocco also has a multi-party system, holds regular elections which are judged as relatively free and fair, and has alternating governments. The parties that win most votes at the election are invited to head the government. But while elections lead to changes of government, the winning parties do not really govern. They might be in government, but they don’t govern; and whereas the political pendulum is swinging once in a while, political power did not.

Such a system is clearly more diffuse and open than the consolidated single-party rule of Ben Ali in Tunisia or Mubarak in Egypt, let alone that of Gaddafi. It also allows the population to let political steam off by voting for various political alternatives. Yet, the system also led to a gradual discreditation of parties. Whereas people voted for alternative parties, they in fact did not get alternative governments. Rather than becoming vehicles for change, the parties were easily co-opted by the system through perks, rents and posts.

The result of such a system is increasing apathy, low election turnout and anti-makhzen (establishment) frustration.  Morocco might have had many parties, but it only had one political actor (a half-joke in Russia says that whether Medvedev stays on as president after 2012 depends on one single vote, that of Vladimir Putin). As a Moroccan journalists puts it: ‘Our parties ceased to pursue power. They are only pursuing posts, since only one person has power in this country – the king’.  The country is ruled by a ‘shadow government’ of advisors to the king, not by the ministers. (Again this closely resembles the Russian political system during Putin’s presidency where real power lied in the Presidential administration, not the government).

Commander of the Faithful

Any conversation on politics in Morocco reveals relatively quickly attitudes to the royal house. Those who refer to the monarch as the ‘king’ are more critical than those who refer to the monarch as ‘His Majesty’. But even loyalists start to have questions. A member of the currently ‘ruling’ Istiklal party says that ‘His Majesty initiates and launches all the ‘grand chantiers’, such as motorways or high-speed-rail. He always brings the good news. The achievements are of the king, and all the failures – are because of the government. That’s a problem.’ Whereas the king is always seen inaugurating something and getting the credit, the ministers are seen as bad and corrupt.

The king is clearly not a Ben Ali style dictator. The monarchy as an institution, and we the king as a person are genuinely popular. The royal house is over 300 years old, descends from the prophet and the King is Amir al Muminin, ie commander of the faithful. This is a role that is hard to pin down, but seems to have real meaning in the Moroccan political culture.

The Monarchy has for decades played skilfully on two stages as a centrist force for good. One stage catered to a traditional Islamic audience, and the other to a modernist one. As a local expert puts it the ‘crown has a double legitimacy: it constantly alternates between showing its modernist face and then its Islamic face’. For decades the monarchy controlled the middle ground, sometimes playing to one audience and sometimes to the other, alternating between Islamic legitimacy and modernising legitimacy. One the one hand, the king is the driver of modernising projects, openness to tourists (the number of tourist in Morocco rose from 2.2 million in 2002 to 8 million in 2008), free trade with the EU, moderate emancipation of women. This buys him the support of the urban middle classes, the establishment and, quite importantly, the EU and the US. Yet, he is also supportive of pretty rigid religious policies. In Morocco one cannot even change sects (turning from a Sunni into a Shia, for example), let alone change religion or be openly atheist, without fear of reprisals from the state.

Gouvernant ou commerҫant

The monarchy might have played well on two scenes for decades, but playing a third role might have been one too many. In addition to being commander of the faithful and the de facto head of government, the king and his entourage are also the most important business actors in the country. The political system might have been more pluralist than in Tunisia and Egypt, and even if economic power is also slightly more diffused, the system reproduces the model of convergence of economic power, cronyism and rent-seeking around the palace so common in the Middle East.

For years discussing or questioning the affairs of the king in the media was an absolute taboo. The king was untouchable. Those who dared touch the king could be exiled, imprisoned or fined at best. But the toppling of Ben Ali in Tunisia opened the gates to a flood of questions and debates about the king. This debate is still prudent. Newspapers do not venture into discussing specific business ventures, yet they question whether the king should be as involved in business as he is. An expert from Casablanca puts in stark terms: ‘The king should decide if he wants to govern or do business. If he wants to do politics, he should not be doing business.’ Certainly the issue is not related just to the king. Like in any centralised system there is always a whole bunch of family members, advisors or friends who are extremely successful businessmen.

This is of course superimposed on a stark background of social inequalities.  For the last decade Morocco had healthy economic growth, but little redistribution. The government seems obsessed with infrastructure spending. In Casablanca and Rabat new and modern tram lines are built that seems more majestic than the tram system in cities like Brussels or Budapest. The government invests EUR 2 billion in a high-speed rail. Yet for all for all its relative openness and projects aimed at economic modernisation, the country has a stark illiteracy rate of 45%, compared to Egypt’s 34%, Tunisia’s 23% or Algeria’s 24%. Morocco’s levels of illiteracy are lower than those of Sudan, Haiti and Rwanda, though its GDP/per capita 2 to 4 times larger, according to UN data. Besides illiteracy, the underpinning of the system are also shaky. Social and economic inequalities in Rabat’s sprawling posh suburbs are bigger than those of Tunis, as are Casablanca’s slums. Abdelillah Benkirane, the leader of the Islamist Party of Justice and Development, sumed it up in the following way: ‘our ministers are richer than yours (in Europe), and our rich live better than yours’. This sounds like a good populist punchline, but reflects a widespread feeling.