By
Stephan Sestanovich
ASHINGTON
-- Throughout the 1990's, any use of force by the United States sent
President Boris Yeltsin of Russia into a red-faced fury. No matter the
target, he would fulminate about Washington's arrogance, invoke Russia's
nuclear might, even warn of World War III. Mr. Yeltsin's outbursts were
brief but ferocious, and they reflected a widespread conviction among
Russians that deep down, America's interests were different from theirs.
Now comes
Vladimir Putin — by instinct and training a less likely friend of the
United States than was Mr. Yeltsin — to offer support in our struggle
against terrorism. His presence on President Bush's bandwagon is more
than just a reversal of Russian policy on America's use of force. Mr.
Putin, unlike his predecessor, seems to believe that there is a domestic
consensus, or that he can create one, in favor of a broad rapprochement
between Russia and the West.
This
offers huge potential payoffs for American policy, and both sides should
work hard to make it a reality. Mr. Putin showed his readiness to do so
this week, in a statement that seemed to relax Russia's opposition to
the enlargement of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization. The Bush
administration is reciprocating with talk of speeding up Russia's
admission to the World Trade Organization.
Yet a
long-term Russian-American realignment will require more than such
statements and the better atmosphere they create. It will demand realism
about the risks and difficulties of cooperation on the very issue —
terrorism — that seems to bring us together.
The most
obvious problem is Moscow's appallingly brutal war in Chechnya. The
administration has sought to narrow its differences with Russia on this
issue, commending Mr. Putin's proposal for a political dialogue with the
Chechen rebels and echoing his demand that they expel foreign
"terrorists." (No one denies such fighters are there).
The
desire to take the edge off Russian-American disagreements is
understandable. We're embarked on a large struggle and need the support
even of those we disagree with. Yet getting too close to Mr. Putin's
Chechnya policy is far more dangerous than keeping our distance from it.
If the United States is to win this new war, our coalition partners need
to believe that the effort is not anti-Islamic, that we do not apply the
terrorist label carelessly and that we will not target civilians
indiscriminately.
Mr. Putin
discredits us on every point. His generals, moreover, are pushing for a
new offensive that, with its inevitable atrocities, will blacken his
reputation further. We should not let them blacken ours as well.
Russia's
war in Chechnya has been a magnet and a motivator for the very
terrorists who threaten Americans worldwide. It has given them new
battlefield experience, extra fund-raising appeal, fresh recruits and
greater fervor — the same fervor they deploy against us.
Mr. Putin
says he has been fighting our enemies, alone, for the past two years.
But has he made them weaker or stronger? The United States needs allies
who can help us succeed, not the advice of ones who have already shown
how to fail.
If the
first threat to Russian-American cooperation is Moscow's effort to cast
the Chechens in the role of Osama bin Laden, the second is the attempt
to cast neighboring Georgia in the role of the Taliban — that is, as
the protector of terrorists. We have had many differences with the
Russians over Georgia. Mr. Putin seems particularly to enjoy shocking
American visitors with his open hatred of the Georgian president, Eduard
Shevardnadze. But Moscow's attitude has rarely been more ominous than it
is now.
Since
Sept. 11, Russian officials have repeatedly demanded that Georgia close
down what Russia considers terrorist bases on its territory. To make the
message more menacing, Russian state television recently aired a
respectful interview with Igor Giorgadze, long wanted in Georgia for
trying to assassinate Mr. Shevardnadze.
No one
disputes that of the several thousand Chechen refugees Georgia has
accepted, some are armed fighters. The Georgian government has to do
more to contain this problem. But, although weak and disorganized, it
has already cooperated with the Russian army in policing the border, has
invited foreign monitors into border areas and camps, and has launched
periodic offensives to keep order among the refugees.
Russia's
charge that Georgia is a Taliban-style haven for terrorists is
preposterous. The danger it creates, however, cannot be ignored. When
President Bush meets Mr. Shevardnadze today in Washington, he should
leave no doubt about America's support for Georgia.
A third
obstacle to lasting cooperation is the one on which many wartime
alliances founder: postwar arrangements. When Mr. Putin chose not to try
to keep his Central Asian neighbors from cooperating with the United
States, he removed a major obstacle to a successful war effort. Yet in
doing so, he is likely to have tried to assure skeptical advisers that
his choice would not lead to a long-term American military presence in
Central Asia.
Was he
right? Before Sept. 11, it would have been easy to answer yes. American
interest in the region has been increasing, but nothing suggested the
need for deeper military involvement.
The
cooperation now developing between the United States and Central Asian
governments will change all this. Those that put themselves in the line
of fire with us today will face the risk of retaliation and revenge
tomorrow.
They will
want a shield: maybe thin, or even invisible, but real. And they will
not want to rely exclusively on the two countries — Russia and China
— that may be quickest to offer their services. One Uzbek official
said just this week, "We want a guarantee that America will not
begin a conflict and then just leave us to deal with the
consequences."
It
is no longer honest to disclaim, or prudent to forswear, the possibility
of some kind of American military presence in Central Asia lasting well
beyond a round or two of antiterrorist operations. Remembering the
damage done by our indifference to Afghanistan once it had driven out
the Soviet army, the United States cannot easily walk away from this war
when it is over. Russia, having thought of the region as its natural
sphere of influence for 150 years, will not easily accept our staying.
Moscow and Washington may not be able to come to grips with this issue
yet, but when and how they take it up will say a great deal about the
depth and durability of their rapprochement.
Stephen Sestanovich is senior fellow at the Council on Foreign Relations
and professor of diplomacy at Columbia University.