SOVIET UNION, ER, I MEAN RUSSIA
Dean Godson says that post-communist Moscow, via its foreign minister, has just won what communist Moscow failed to win for 30 years in the Middle East
The principal author of this reversal of fortune was the 68-year-old Yevgeni Primakov, who became Russian foreign minister last year. Notwithstanding his Jewish origins (his real name is Finkel- stein), Primakov was one of the Soviet Union's pre-eminent Arabists, first as a Pravda 'correspondent' in the Middle East and later as head of the Oriental Institute. In 1991, he became chief of the Foreign Intelligence Service. There, Primakov devoted himself to the reintegration of the Commonwealth of Independent States (the countries of the former USSR). Now, he is onto the next stage: rebuilding Russian power in the Middle East, the area where the West is most vulnerable. Far from doing so indiscriminately — he knows, for instance, that Russia lacks the resources to influence Egypt — he works more selec- tively. His emphasis now is on enhancing Russian influence in three countries: Iraq, Iran and, to a lesser degree, Syria.
Primakov's contacts are legendary. He has known Saddam Hussein since 1969, when he was sent by the Communist party central committee to mediate between the Iraqis and the late Kurdish leader Mustapha Barzani. But Primakov is also close to pro-Western rulers such as King Hussein of Jordan (he often wears a watch emblazoned with the Hashemite monarch's face). This immersion in Middle Eastern culture is so thorough that it extends to its cuisine: his favourite dish is lahmaniye, a Lebanese starter of specially minced raw meat, marinated with garlic and spices.
And that is how Primakov likes his geopolitics: raw and spicy. His world is full of potential and real adversaries — but notably the United States. It is hard to imagine an approach more different from the latter-day Norman Angellism of the Clinton administration, which holds that international conflict is diminishingly likely because of ever-greater economic interde- pendence. Indeed, during his recent visit to Jerusalem Israeli leaders were amused by Primakov's habit of referring to his country as the 'Soviet Union' — always rapidly cor- recting it to 'Russia'. Of course, the Russia of today has even less money and 'global reach' than the Sovi- et Union possessed in 1990-91, when Pri- makov, as the special envoy of the dying communist regime, last sought to mediate between Saddam and the world. But Pri- makov may now have a freer hand than he did then, when both Mikhail Gorbachev and the Soviet foreign minister, Eduard Shevardnadze (now President of Georgia), had cause to be concerned about the poten- tially adverse reaction of the Bush adminis- tration to such missions. Long after the Gulf war was over, Shevardnadze criticised Pri- makov for implying to Saddam that some compromise could be struck over Iraqi withdraw- al from Kuwait, rather than just telling him to leave uncon- ditionally. Shevardnadze sug- gested that this ambiguity may have encouraged the Mesopotamian tyrant to main- tain his hard line.
Whatever the differences between the Soviet Union and today's Russia, it is clear to Primakov that the 'special relationship' with Iraq still serves his country's interests. It goes far wider than the sim- ple desire for sanctions to be lifted so that Russian firms can win con- tracts to recoup some of Baghdad's $7 bil- lion debt (at 1990 prices) to the Soviet Union. For the main goal of Primakov's highly nationalistic foreign policy is to pre- serve Russia's freedom of action in foreign policy, and not just to limp along behind the United States in a 'club of civilised states', as he dismissively describes it. There are many potential counterweights to American world hegemony; but from Primakov's viewpoint, Iraq is a particularly good place to start rebuilding Russia's sta- tus as a great power, with distinctive inter- ests of its own.
There are several reasons for this. First, there is a compatibility of outlook in mat- ters of power politics. Since the 1972 friendship and cooperation treaty between the two countries, thousands of Russian officers and civilians have served there: indeed, the Iraqi military is organised along old Soviet lines, with its military control directorate playing the same role as politi- cal commissars of the main political admin- istration of the Red Army.
Likewise, some Western analysts believe that Iraqi concealment of its weapons pro- grammes may have been aided by the deception techniques taught to them by the Soviet General Staff. These were once employed to hide the extent of Soviet cheating on arms control agreements, and the supremely resourceful Iraqis are reck- oned to be perfectly capable of building on this approach of their own volition. But above all, the Russians would be reluctant to lose on their huge personal investment in Saddam himself. They fear that even if he is replaced by another member of his Takriti clan or some Ba'athist panjandrum, his successors would return Iraq to its earli- er pro-Western leanings.
This is where Primakov's personal affini- ty for the Iraqi leader is so important. He understands the nature of his rule perfect- ly: in a booklet on his two missions during the Gulf war, Primakov described partic- ipating in a meeting of the Iraqi leadership and reported that the only difference between the 'hardliners' and the 'moder- ates' was that when Saddam spoke, the for- mer nodded their heads more vigorously in agreement. If he entertained any doubts about the nature of the regime he was deal- ing with, he has never shown it.
Indeed, in line with his ruthlessly prag- matic conception of his country's interests, Primakov, the one-time communist, is also perfectly content to deal with Iran. It was ever thus: in his major theoretical work, Islam and Processes of Social Development of Foreign Countries in the East (1980), he explained that Islam could play a very use- ful anti-imperialist role in under-developed countries. He returned to such themes last year, defending Islamic fundamentalism as a noble force in the world.
Again, irrespective of the needs of Rus- sian civilian and defence industries, Pri- makov feels that there is a growing convergence of strategic outlook between Iran and Russia concerning the overween- ing power of the United States. Despite his dealings with the two 'great satans' of the region, the American administration was glad of his services. It felt it held a very weak hand vis-a-vis both its Western and Arab allies. Since Saddam was trying so desperately to split the Allied coalition, preserving its formal cohesion became the sole qua non of American policy — at almost any price. The coalition, once the means, had now become the end — and it has worked, for the time being at least. But In accepting the fruits of his mediation, the Administration paid a very considerable Price. A coach and horses was driven through one of the guiding principles of American statecraft since the days of American administration: to frustrate any Arab regime that seeks to develop a strate- gic partnership with another great power.
Peter Rodman, one of Kissinger's senior aides and later deputy national security adviser under George Bush, says that Nixon was quite consciously seeking to reverse the outcome of the Suez crisis of 1956. As Nixon saw it, Egypt's President Nasser had been the first Third World leader to take Soviet weaponry, and America had vindicated his policy by handing him a victory over Britain and France. The withering of the Nixon/Kiss-inger approach will give particu- lar satisfaction to Primakov who, as Pravda corres-pondent in Cairo during the 1960s, knew Nasser personally and later co- authored a highly laudatory book about him.
The institutional memory for such long- time interests of the United States counts for relatively little under this administra- tion: it is now almost a commonplace that the President is inattentive in these matters and that policy lacks any compass. Although such working-level officials as Martin Indyk, the assistant secretary of state for Near Eastern affairs, and Bruce Riedel, the senior director for the Near East and South Asia on the National Secu- rity Council, were well aware of what was happening, they were unable (or unwilling) to affect the pace of events.
The only other brake on the administra- tion could have been the legislative branch, which has sought to overcompensate for its near failure to give George Bush the authority to prosecute the Gulf war: many senators recall the lament of their one-time colleague, Sam Nunn, that his vote against sending American troops into combat made a subsequent presidential bid almost impos- sible. But Congress had already recessed for Thanksgiving, so depriving dissenting voices of a forum. This vacuum afforded space to exponents of the 'Russia first' school of thought, notably the deputy secre- tary of state, Strobe Talbott. Several long- serving diplomats in Washington believe that he was able to persuade the Secretary of State, Madeleine Albright, to allow Rus- sia to play a part in resolving this crisis especially after Russia had suffered the humiliation of Nato enlargement. Unless Primakov appeared as the hero of the hour — so the argument ran — America's rela- tions with Russia would suffer, hardline ele- ments opposed to President Yeltsin would be strengthened, and more nuclear technol- ogy would be sold to 'rogue regimes'.
Time will tell whether these calculations prove to be correct. But one thing is cer- tain: for better or worse, rarely can a super- power have voluntarily ceded influence with less struggle or debate amongst its political elite.
The author is chief leader writer of the Daily Telegraph.
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