By
SPIEGEL Staff
Russia's occupation of Crimea has violated international law and
created a new crisis among world leaders. Now the EU and the US are
fighting over the best means to address Russia's reawakened expansionary
ambitions.
Everything in Simferopol, the capital of the Ukrainian Autonomous
Republic of Crimea, has suddenly changed. Shortly after noon on Thursday
of last week, Cossacks from Russia sealed off the Crimean parliament
building. The Russians, who had identified themselves as tourists a
short time earlier, claimed that they were there to "check
identification papers." Now Russia's white, blue and red flag flies
above the building.
Two men accompany us as we walk up the steps to meet with the new
premier of Crimea, who has taken over the office in a Moscow-backed coup. Under
his leadership and with instructions from Russian President Vladimir
Putin, the Crimean lawmakers have just voted to join the Russian
Federation. Their decision is to be sealed with a referendum scheduled
for Sunday, March 16.
Prime Minister Sergey Aksyonov, 41, a former
businessman with a
highly dubious reputation, tries to make a serious impression, but so
far, he has been unsuccessful in his attempts to shed his reputation as
an underworld figure nicknamed "Goblin."
Despite the Russian flag on
display in the reception room, Aksyonov insists that rumors that he was
installed by the Kremlin are nothing but lies. "The people here asked me
to do it," he says. But he knows that neither Kiev nor the West will
accept the annexation of Crimea. "No one dictates anything to us," he
insists.
The new premier speaks rapidly, as if to drown out any skepticism.
"We want no violence or casualties," he says, adding that everything
should proceed peacefully. "However, we are not letting the Ukrainians
out of their barracks, so that they can no longer act on any criminal
orders from Kiev." He says that his people are in control of all of
Crimea, but NATO experts claim that at least 2,000 Russian soldiers have
been brought to the peninsula by air, for a total of 20,000 troops in
Crimea. Another 20,000 are supposedly standing ready nearby.
"Nonsense," says Aksyonov, still insisting that Moscow has not sent
in any soldiers at all. This, despite the fact that the men in ski masks
and uniforms -- which have been stripped of Russian insignia -- are
grinning under their disguises. If the situation weren't so serious, it
would almost be comical.
At this point, no one is laughing. Russian soldiers have repeatedly
prevented military observers from the Organization for Security and
Cooperation in Europe (OSCE) from entering Crimea. Pro-Russian "civil
defense squads" have threatened United Nations special envoy Robert
Serry in Simferopol. "Militarily speaking, Crimea is already lost," says
a NATO general. "The Ukrainian army is fighting a lost cause."
According to a German military internal situation report, the events in
Crimea could be repeated in eastern Ukraine.
So far, Moscow's provocations in Crimea haven't resulted in any
deaths. Nevertheless, all it takes is one murder or one gun battle to
ignite the powder keg of tensions in the region. It begs the question:
Almost 100 years after the beginning of World War I, and almost 25 years
after the end of the Cold War and the realignment of Europe, could
there possibly be a new military conflict between the major powers in
Europe?
'Most Serious Crisis' Since Cold War
German Foreign Minister Frank-Walter Steinmeier has called it the
"most serious crisis since the fall of the Berlin Wall" -- seemingly
ignoring the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11, 2001. US President Barack
Obama characterized Moscow's intervention as a "violation of
international law," while former US Secretary of State Hillary Clinton
compared Putin's alleged concerns over "ethnic" Russians in eastern
Ukraine to Adolf Hitler's actions in Sudetenland in 1938.
Officials at NATO and the European Union have been meeting almost
around the clock. Late last week, Obama spent more than an hour on the
phone with Putin, who has shown no sign of backing down. The Western
leaders now face the challenge of exerting pressure on Russia while
simultaneously keeping the channels of communication open.
They are also being confronted with a different series of questions:
What kinds of sanctions could even persuade Russia's aggressive leader
to withdraw? What does Vladimir Putin want? Does he want to annex Crimea
or even eastern Ukraine, or perhaps seize control of even more
territory along Russia's borders? And are these merely the actions of a
cornered fighter or does he truly believe he can create a modern
reincarnation of the Soviet Union?
The United States and the EU approved initial sanctions against
Moscow late last week, Washington sent military reinforcements to Poland
and the Baltic countries and the German federal police promptly
suspended half a dozen cooperative programs with Russia. On Sunday, the
Polish Defense Minister announced that the US was sending 12 fighter
jets to Poland.
But aside from these measures, the situation has thus far been
characterized by a horrifying sense of helplessness. On the one hand,
Russia is part of the globalized community of nations, tightly
interconnected through regular political consultations, the economy and
tourism. Russia's commodities exports to Europe make up close to half of
the central government budget, and its connections to the rest of the
world are obvious. But then, on the other hand, there is the Russian
president, who is apparently trying to break ranks with this
interdependent, civilized world.
Ignorance and Incomprehension
The events of the last few weeks have underscored a lack of
understanding between East and West, as well as the West's crass
ignorance and incomprehension of Putin's motives. As much as the leaders
on both sides feel that they know each other, vast differences remain.
"Putin is living in another world!" German Chancellor Angela Merkel
reportedly exclaimed in a phone call with Obama last week. Putin, for
his part, voiced almost identical opinions about the West in a press
conference with handpicked journalists, saying, "They sit there across
the pond as if they're in a lab running all kinds of experiments on
rats, without understanding consequences of what they're doing." By
"rats" he apparently meant the new Ukrainian leadership, which Putin
believes is being controlled by Washington.
But the Kremlin leader has succeeded in one respect: He has divided
the West. This process began months before his foray into Crimea, when
he granted temporary asylum to US whistleblower Edward Snowden. Snowden
had leaked documents on the massive surveillance activities of the NSA,
heightening the distrust among the Western allies to levels unseen since
World War II. And the fact that Washington has made no effort to
conclude a no-spying agreement with Berlin has only worsened the sense
of alienation between the two countries.
Searching for the Right Measure
Germany is playing a central role in resolving the current Ukraine
crisis. Both the United States and Russia see Merkel as the politician
who is best equipped to defuse the explosive situation in Ukraine. She
addresses Putin with the informal "du" in German, and has met with him
dozens of times. Despite their many differences, their close partnership
has created a bond between Berlin and Moscow. And with its aspiration
to embark on a new, more active foreign policy, the German government
has placed itself under more pressure to succeed.
But Europe's impotence and trepidation are not as clear-cut as they
appear. Even though a reversal of the Russian takeover of Crimea may
seem hopeless at this point, joint EU actions against Moscow could be
promising in the long term. Putin is not as strong as he makes himself
out to be, and Russia is vulnerable, particularly on the economic front.
It is merely a question of finding the most effective way to make an
impression on Putin and curb his expansion plans -- and of whether the
West has the will to follow a course of action that will be painful for
everyone involved. Either way, the decisions now being made in Crimea,
Kiev, Moscow, Brussels and Washington will shape policy in the coming
years and possibly even decades.
In Kiev: Pride and Powerlessness
While Russians and Ukrainians continue to face off in Crimea -- with
US President Obama threatening to skip the G-8 summit in Sochi in June
and the Russian parliament, the Duma, considering the seizure of Western
company assets in response to sanctions -- the new government is
meeting in Kiev. Less than two weeks after entering office, it is
desperately trying to regain control over the situation in Ukraine.
The seat of the government, located in a massive Stalin-era building
on Kiev's Grushevsky Street, seems caught in the past. The hallway
floors are covered with sound-absorbing green carpeting from the
Yanukovych era, the names of the country's new leaders have already been
engraved onto brass signs on the doorways.
Room 460, on the fifth floor, is the office of the new economics
minister, Pavlo Sheremeta. The office hasn't been completely furnished
yet, and there are only two pictures on the wall -- a portrait of
national poet Taras Shevchenko and a photo, titled "Heavenly One
Hundred," depicting the photos of the 67 people who died on Maidan
Square. The view from the window is of a barricade on Grushevsky Street,
now covered with flowers, where many of former President Viktor
Yanukovych's opponents died.
"We owe a great deal to the dead," says Sheremeta. It angers him that
Moscow is calling the change in government in Kiev a "coup" and the
protesters "fascists." Radical right-wing agitators, he says, were
clearly in the minority among the protesters on Independence Square.
Dismal Economy
Sheremeta is not a member of any party. He is part of the contingent
of ministers selected by the Maidan protesters and his position is now
probably one of the most important in Kiev. The 42-year-old economist
teaches business strategy in Eastern Europe and Asia and, most recently,
was president of the Kiev School of Economics. When he received the
call asking him to join the new government, he was skiing in the Alps
with his wife and two daughters.
He never saw his predecessor, who held his last meeting at 11 a.m. on
Feb. 27 and then left the building. Sheremata was appointed at 2 p.m.
that day. Since then, he and other members of the new government have
been working around the clock.
A staff member walks into the room. He has brought along Ukraine's
daily economic figures, which look like the fever chart of a deathly ill
patient. Industrial production declined by another half a percent in
January, while inflation is sharply on the rise, tax revenues are down
20 percent and the national currency, the hryvnia, continues to lose
value.
"We are going to review government contracts, where corruption is
taking a heavy toll," says Sheremeta. But first he has to meet with
experts from the International Monetary Fund (IMF), who have been in
Kiev since Tuesday to discuss a $15 billion (€10.8 billion) loan the
country urgently needs. But natural gas prices will also be a topic of
discussion. It is clear that, effective April 1, the Russians will
reverse the substantial reduction in prices they had promised
Yanukovich. It is also clear that Naftogaz, Ukraine's national oil and
gas company, is unable to pay the current bill for gas deliveries, which
has grown to $2.1 billion.
This means Ukrainians will now -- in accordance with the IMF's
conditions -- have to pay up to three times as much for heat and hot
water, a change which will hurt the new government's popularity and thus
play into Putin's hands. "We have to explain this to the people. If we
are not willing to pay more for the gas, then we truly belong in the
East. But then what did those 67 men die for?" asks Sheremeta.
Chaos in Kiev
Three levels above Sheremeta's office, a cabinet meeting is
beginning. The attendees include the governors of Ukraine's nine
provinces, including the two oligarchs -- banker Igor Kolomoisky and
steel magnate Sergey Taruta -- who will now be running the provinces of
Dnipropetrovsk and Donetsk. Many were surprised by the choice of the two
men. They have experience and their wealth makes them seemingly
unsusceptible to bribes, but, Sheremeta says: "I'm not happy with these
choices. How are these people supposed to separate business and
politics?"
The cabinet meets for three hours. It cancels 82 government projects,
for a total cost of 48 billion hryvnia (€3.8 billion), and decides to
auction off 1,500 official cars owned by ministries and other agencies.
With funds in such short supply, government officials will now be
expected to take the metro.
Then Sheremeta is called back to Prime Minister Arseniy Yatsenyuk's
office to attend a meeting with Swedish Foreign Minister Carl Bildt.
When he arrives on the seventh floor, he learns that the prime minister
has just left in a hurry for Brussels. This leaves Sheremeta to
negotiate alone with Bildt over a planned association agreement with the
European Union. Former Prime Minister Yulia Tymoshenko's Fatherland
Party is demanding that the agreement, from which Yanukovich withdrew in
November, be signed as quickly as possible. But now Brussels is
stepping on the brakes, unwilling to rush into anything.
Sheremeta is no politician. This can work in his favor, but it can
also be a drawback. He isn't caught up in the political games being
played in the cabinet, between Tymoshenko's Fatherland Party and the
nationalist Svoboda party.
'A Candid Investigation' is Needed
But he is working together with cabinet members about whom many have
reservations. Interior Minister Arsen Avakov, a former governor of the
eastern city of Kharkiv, was suspected of abuse of office and spent more
than two years in exile in Italy. Agriculture Minister Igor Shvaika is
an ardent right-wing nationalist. Energy Minister Yuri Prodan and
Minister of Social Policy Lyudmyla Denisova have both served in other
governments in the past. And finally, there is Dmytro Bulatov, one of
the leaders of the Maidan protesters, who disappeared for a period of
time and was apparently tortured, and who is now the new minister of
youth and sports.
Reporters from a Ukrainian television station come to see Sheremeta.
Later, the new economics minister is smiling and seemingly in high
spirits during a live interview with CNN. Only once does he become
pensive, after hearing a rumor that the Estonian foreign minister had
told EU High Representative for Foreign Affairs Catherine Ashton. The
minister had claimed that it wasn't Yanukovych's men who had fired the
shots during the bloody clashes on Maidan Square on Feb. 20, but members
of the opposition.
On Wednesday, the new Ukrainian intelligence chief stated that the
shots were fired by "snipers from foreign countries," but declined to
elaborate. Sheremeta says that many questions remain unanswered. He
believes the coalition government is not overly eager to investigate the
bloody clashes. "Our government will fall under a shadow unless it
conducts a candid investigation."
USA: Marbles and Chess
The American president is visiting Powell Elementary School in
Washington, where he has come to talk about the importance of education.
The children greet the president in a half-circle, and when he steps
into a classroom, they chant in unison: "Good morning, Mr. President."
Obama, with one of the little boys sitting on his lap, begins to talk
about opportunities for the socially disadvantaged. But even here, the
crisis in Ukraine is on everyone's mind.
When a reporter asks Obama for his assessment of the situation in
Crimea, Obama's response reveals a great deal about his worldview: "The
course of history is for people to want to be free to make their own
decisions about their own futures. And the international community I
think is unified in believing that it is not the role of an outside
force ... to intervene in people trying to determine their own destiny."
This statement, directed at Russia, could double as the US
government's maxim on the current crisis. Washington is currently
grappling with the sustainability of Obama's approach to US military
troop reduction. It is also wondering whether it is right for the most
powerful man in the world to be taking such a cautious approach to this
sort of conflict.
Major Test for Obama
The Crimean crisis is, more than any other event, testing Obama's
policy of reconciliation with the rest of the world. Former
Undersecretary of State for Political Affairs Nicholas R. Burns calls it
the "most important, most difficult foreign-policy test of his
presidency," noting that there is "no one in Europe who can approach him
in power. He's going to have to lead."
Political scientist Ian Bremmer, president of the renowned New
York-based Eurasia Group, a global political risk consulting firm, fears
that the events in Ukraine could reflect a "broader geopolitical
shift." Russia, Bremmer writes, will use the crisis as an opportunity to
strengthen its ties with China. "We are in a world with a distinct and
dangerous lack of global, coordinated leadership." Meanwhile, the
Republicans are critical of the president for engaging in a foreign
policy in which "nobody believes in America's strength anymore," as
Senator John McCain bitterly notes.
Obama himself says that the impulse to expand, in terms of geography,
economy and ideology, is a central part of the American identity. There
is a nostalgia in Washington for the country's former strength, a
desire for a more self-confident approach. "Putin is playing chess and I
think we're playing marbles," says Republican Congressman Mike Rogers.
Obama perceives this is an outdated Cold War ritual, dating from a
time when the world seemed divided into good and evil. Before he became
president, he described his view of foreign policy by quoting from
former President George Washington's farewell address: "Why, by
interweaving our destiny with that of any part of Europe, entangle our
peace and prosperity in the toils of European ambition, rivalship,
interest, humor or caprice?"
Words as Weapons
At Powell Elementary School, Obama responded to suggestions that
Putin had been clever strategically by saying: "I actually think that
this has not been a sign of strength. It will push many countries
further away from Russia."
On Thursday, to ensure that no one misinterprets his mild words,
Obama imposed the first sanctions on individuals held responsible for
the crisis. They will be denied entry into the United States, and the
assets of former President Yanukovych are being frozen. Obama also sent
his Secretary of State, John Kerry, to visit Kiev.
Kerry was driven directly from the airport to Independence Square,
where he engaged in a conversation with a woman about how the wealthy
live in luxury, hiding their assets, while the majority of the
population lives in poverty. These kinds of encounters feed into the
American desire to be perceived as ambassadors of freedom. But Kerry has
a problem: He only has weak weapons to use against the Russians. Those
weapons are his words. "It is diplomacy and respect for sovereignty, not
unilateral force, that can best solve disputes like this in the 21st
century," Kerry said in Kiev.
But what if Putin continues to escalate the crisis? "Then," says
Kerry, "our partners will have absolutely no choice but to join us to
continue to expand upon steps we have taken in recent days in order to
isolate Russia politically, diplomatically and economically."
Reason and Roulette in Moscow
Is it possible to take a trip inside Putin's head? The CIA has
experts who can provide the US president with psychological profiles of
foreign leaders, which he can use as tools in making his decisions. They
place Putin on a virtual therapist's couch and try to explain what
makes him tick and what is truly important to him. It helps to look at
the world through Putin's eyes, through the lens of his experiences and
priorities.
Conversations with Putin's associates and his own remarks suggest the
factors that shaped the wannabe czar: his childhood in a small, shabby
apartment in a Leningrad working-class neighborhood, his father's
stories about the Great Patriotic War against the Germans, his role as
an outsider in school -- and his desire to be accepted into the KGB
community.
Putin was 15 when then Soviet General Secretary Leonid Brezhnev, in
response to a "plea for help" from Communist Party leaders, sent tanks
to mow down the reform movement in Prague. He was 37 and a major in the
KGB when he was forced to defend himself against angry demonstrators in
Dresden, following the fall of the Berlin Wall. Wearing civilian
clothing, he went to the gate of the KGB villa and appeased the crowd by
saying: "This is a property of the Soviet military, and I am the
interpreter." In reality, as Putin would later relate, he had been
burning secret documents inside the villa "until the furnace almost
broke."
The Soviet withdrawal from East Germany was a humiliating moment for
Putin. Beginning in 1989, the superpower he had served and in which he
had believed was disintegrating everywhere. Soviet republics from the
Baltic Sea to Central Asia were declaring independence. For Putin, it
was especially painful to see Ukraine -- whose "Kievan Rus" had become
the historic cradle of the later Russian Empire after the 9th century --
separating itself from Moscow.
He called the collapse of the Soviet Union the "greatest geopolitical
catastrophe of the 20th century." Since then, he has made it his
mission to save -- or recapture -- whatever he can. To add insult to
injury, in Putin's eyes, the West has flouted its commitment not to send
NATO troops up to Russia's borders. Putin refuses to give up the dream
of making Russia a superpower once again and the aspiration to make it
an empire.
Limited Influence
He has experimented with cooperation with the West. After Sept. 11,
2001, Putin hoped that by supplying arms for the campaign against the
Taliban, he would secure a modicum of control over the former Soviet
republics, expanding Russia's sphere of influence from the Kirghiz steps
to Crimea. But the West had no intention of granting him his wish,
especially now that countries like Georgia and Ukraine were demanding
more autonomy and turning to the West.
At the 2007 Munich Security Conference, Putin struck back, accusing
the United States of having "overstepped" borders, partly through the
"expansion of force." In 2008, the Russian army intervened in Georgia
when Georgian troops, provoked by Moscow, launched a regional war of
aggression on the breakaway republic of South Ossetia.
After five days, Putin had President Dmitry Medvedev declare the two
breakaway republics, Abkhazia and South Ossetia, as protectorates.
Although only a handful of countries besides Russia recognize them as
independent nations, the West accepts Moscow's control. Are they a
potential model for Crimea?
Heir to the Russian Empire
When addressing the global public, Putin likes to portray himself as a
champion of international law and the territorial integrity of
countries. Again and again, most recently in the Syrian conflict, Moscow
has used its veto to obstruct outside intervention in cases involving
human rights violations. Putin does not accept the United Nations view
of its "responsibility to protect" a threatened civilian population --
unless Russians are involved and he can determine whether they are being
threatened, as he now claims is the case in Ukraine, allowing him to
personally "rescue" them.
Russia's strong man only offers insights into what truly worries him
when speaking to small groups. In October 2012, for example, activists
with the pro-Kremlin People's Front for Russia met with Putin at his
Novo-Ogaryovo residence outside Moscow. Referring to the appearance of
an employee of the state-owned television station known for his strident
polemics, he said: "I like this superpower way of thinking." This shows
that Putin sees himself as the heir of the Russian Empire.
In 2013,
Forbes named him the most powerful man in the world,
ahead of the presidents of the United States and China. And it must have
stroked his ego when everyone in the West claimed that without him,
there could be no solution in the Syrian civil war and in the
negotiations over Iran's nuclear program.
Putin's Weaknesses
In reality, his influence in these countries is limited. China
outstripped Russia long ago in Central Asia and Africa. No one would hit
upon the idea of referring to a "Russian model" worth imitating. And
even Putinists often resignedly quote Russian national poet Fyodor
Dostoevsky, who said: "In Europe we are mere Tatars." By Tatars, he
meant provincial.
Russia's population has stopped growing. With its 143 million people,
the world's largest country ranks ninth in population, behind Nigeria
and Bangladesh. And the economy grew by a paltry 1.4 percent last year,
despite the world's largest natural gas reserves, massive oil production
and many natural resources, from nickel to gold.
Russia has little to offer other than its mineral resources, so Putin
needs markets in the West. The oft-proclaimed diversification of
Russian industry has never happened. In addition, Russia is ranked 127th
in the Transparency International Corruption Perceptions Index, only 17
spots ahead of Ukraine, which Putin has just accused of being plagued
with "unimaginable corruption."
Uncertain Future for Gas
There is also no guarantee that Russia's oil and gas revenues will
remain strong. Given the recent emergence of fracking and oil shales,
global market prices for these commodities will likely decline
significantly in the future. If that happens, it has the potential to
open up an enormous hole in the Russian treasury. If events unfold as
many observers believe they will, then Putin will soon no longer be able
to afford the kind of inflated and inefficient military he has today.
He will be forced to freeze pensions and will no longer be able to offer
the new middle class a better standard of living.
It's no surprise that Putin is seeking a breakthrough in foreign
policy that would lead to a prestigious alliance of nations under his
leadership. Ukraine was intended to be a key, perhaps even the most
important, member of his planned Eurasian Customs Union.
But ever since Kiev began orienting itself toward Western Europe,
Putin has seen his expansion plans in jeopardy. With only Kazakhstan,
Belarus, Armenia and possibly Moldova on board, Putin won't be creating
much of an empire.
It is hard to explain why the leading politicians in the West failed
to recognize, or perhaps were unwilling to see, the fact that the
Russian president would not simply allow Ukraine to turn to the West.
An Imperial Twitch from a Shrunken Russia
Putin's decline began at the moment of his greatest triumph. The
Russian president, who invested billions in Sochi, could no longer enjoy
the magnificent Winter Olympics. And the next prestigious event in the
city, the G-8 summit of the world's leading industrialized nations, is
on the verge of being cancelled because of Russia's forceful actions in
Crimea. Western sanctions would further decimate Putin's range of
options, possibly even threatening his power. Travel bans imposed on a
previously pro-Putin elite accustomed to Western luxury could trigger
considerable resentment.
From his standpoint, the president has only one good card to play: He needs a successful operation in Crimea.
It is a high-stakes gamble, but perhaps the odds are better than in a
game of Russian roulette. And in taking his current approach, Putin
enjoys broad support among a largely nationalist public, with even
liberal intellectuals celebrating the annexation. Hardly anyone is
troubled by the highly dubious attempt to justify Russian intervention
as "brotherly aid," and few believe that Putin also intends to march
into eastern Ukraine for the same reason.
Still, merely the threat that the Russians could possibly come to the
"aid" of ethnic Russians in Kharkiv and Donetsk is probably enough to
prevent any Ukrainian government from becoming too cozy with the EU and
NATO.
Putin's aggressive approach in Crimea and his actions, clearly in
violation of international law, may remind Hillary Clinton of the Nazis'
"Anschluss" of the Sudetenland. But Putin is no gambler, nor is he looking for excuses to raze cities to the ground.
And even though he is playing a high-stakes game of poker, he also
isn't putting everything on the line. Instead, it seems highly likely
that Putin will stop when he faces the threat of a major war. In this
respect, he has not lost touch with reality in the way the German
chancellor believes. Instead, he is ruthlessly exploiting all his
options, taking things to a limit which he knows very well.
He is not doing so out of strength but out of weakness. In fact, this
Crimean campaign could be the last imperial twitch of a Russia that has
shrunk to the point of being a medium-sized power.
Germany Takes a Key Role to Little Effect
Germany is playing a key role in the Ukraine crisis. The chancellor
has spoken with the Russian president by phone three times in the last
few days, and the German foreign minister, Frank-Walter Steinmeier, has
met three times with his Russian counterpart, Sergey Lavrov, in addition
to almost daily telephone conversations. Last Monday, Steinmeier even
made a trip to Geneva to speak with Lavrov in person and to keep the
conversation going.
This is in keeping with the new, more active German foreign policy
Steinmeier announced in January. At the same time, the German government
is also clearly feeling the limits of this policy. "I don't know if we
are prepared for this type of foreign policy," says a senior official in
Berlin. He is referring to the mixture of the geostrategic Great Game
of the 19th century and the intelligence methods of the 21st century,
with which Putin is trying to protect his interests, and which stands in
contrast with the Germans' more gentle diplomacy.
Merkel spoke with Putin by phone on the Friday before last, after
pro-Russian militias had taken over government buildings in Crimea.
Putin denied that Moscow was involved, and he would do so more
frequently in the coming days. The German government's position was
clear early on: An international contact group was needed as a forum for
talks with the Russians.
A Familiar Relationship
In her phone conversations with Putin, Merkel repeatedly pointed out
that if Russia hoped to avoid sanctions, it would have to agree to a
contact group. But Putin proved to be unwieldy. He said he was not
opposed to a contact group, but that the current Ukrainian government
could not be represented, because it consists of fascists and is not
democratically elected. Merkel replied that the government was elected
by the Ukrainian parliament, and that Prime Minister Yatsenyuk had even
appointed two members of the Jewish faith to his government.
The tone in Merkel's and Putin's conversation has been calm but
clear. Officials in Berlin are convinced that Putin does not speak as
openly with any other Western leader as he does with Merkel. He usually
speaks German, only switching to Russian when important details are at
issue. His words are then translated, even though Merkel understands
Russian.
After years of interaction, the chancellor knows Putin well enough
that she can readily draw a picture of his character and his motives. It
is an image of a highly intelligent man interested in the world, but
also a man with complexes and self-doubts. According to Merkel, Putin
knows very well that he cannot modernize his country without Western
investment. He also knows that under purely economic criteria, Russia
would have no business being part of the group of the eight most
important industrialized nations.
A Mood of Resignation in Berlin
In their telephone conversations, the chancellor and Putin have been
unable to agree on any of the central issues, from events in Crimea to
the legitimacy of the Ukrainian government. Putin is also offering no
concrete commitments. During a conversation last Wednesday, however, he
did indicate that he could perhaps agree to a contact group that would
include the Ukrainian government.
So far, though, German efforts have not been truly helpful, leading
to a mood of resignation in Berlin. Even cabinet ministers are saying
"Crimea is gone," and that the West should now focus on preventing the
Russian president from creating more precedents in eastern Ukraine. They
warn that if Putin were to stir up separatist sentiments there, too, it
would be a "game changer." Keeping eastern and western Ukraine together
is currently Merkel's most important goal.
The planned G-8 summit in Sochi could be an opportunity to teach
Putin a lesson. If there is indeed an independence referendum in Crimea
next Sunday, Merkel will have no choice but to cancel her attendance.
That, at least, is the current assessment of the situation within
Merkel's cabinet and at the Chancellery.
Putin Prefers Risk of Sanctions
When German Vice-Chancellor Sigmar Gabriel met with Putin in Moscow
last week, he told the Kremlin leader that Russian would suffer
considerably under sanctions. He also tried appealing to the Russian
president on a personal level, saying it was now up to him, Putin, to
prevent Europe from sliding into a new Cold War. But the Russian leader
remained impassive.
On the previous day, the foreign ministers had met for several hours,
but emerged from the meeting without having agreed on the format, the
principles or the goals of a contact group. During the meeting, Lavrov
left the negotiating table several times to speak with Putin by phone.
In the end, it was clear that Putin would rather accept the risk of
sanctions than make any concessions. This is why the German government
believes Washington's push for a quick, tough reaction against Russia is
the wrong approach.
When the EU leaders consult each other about sanctions against
Russia, the association agreement with Ukraine, which triggered the
crisis in the first place, is also back on the table. The interim
government in Kiev is eager to sign the agreement as soon as possible.
Important Lessons
The history of the agreement is a lesson in what happens when modern
economic policy and classic power politics clash. Officials in Berlin
already had their doubts when negotiations on the agreement began in
2009. Some argued that Ukraine was too fragile to be forced to choose
between Russia and the West. But that concern never reached the
department in Brussels in charge of European enlargement and
neighborhood policy, whose officials negotiated the treaty. No one even
hit upon the idea that Moscow might assert its influence in Ukraine as
aggressively as it did, and yet there were warning signs.
At the very latest, officials in Brussels ought to have been paying
closer attention after February of last year, when EU Enlargement
Commissioner Stefan Füle visited the White House in Moscow, the seat of
the Russian government. Füle raved about the progress being made in
Ukraine. At that point, the EU's association agreement with the
government in Kiev was practically in the bag. The official signing was
to take place at the Eastern Partnership Summit in Lithuania in
November. Füle spoke with great enthusiasm about Ukraine's efforts.
His audience in Moscow, the assembled Russian government, headed by
Prime Minister Dmitry Medvedev, was not nearly as enthusiastic. What
effects, it asked pointedly, would such an agreement have on the planned
Eurasian economic union, which Moscow was assembling with countries
like Kazakhstan and Belarus, and possibly Ukraine?
"Looking back," says a senior official at the European Commission,
"we could have sensed at that moment what was threatening to happen. But
that would be against our nature. We EU representatives are always a
little naïve and believe that our mission is bound to succeed, because
we are fighting for the right values. We never plan for the worst case."
A Changed Man
After Füle's meeting in Moscow, Alexey Miller, the head of Russian
energy giant Gazprom, suddenly noticed that Ukraine was behind in paying
for its gas deliveries, and that the government in Kiev still owed the
company $882 million. As a result, Miller said, Gazprom had to insist
that Ukraine pay its debts on time. Then Russia's consumer protection
agency suddenly claimed that the products of Ukraine's largest
confectionary company contained carcinogenic substances, and its trucks
were ordered to turn around at the border.
On Nov. 19, 10 days before the official signing of the agreement,
Füle traveled to Kiev once again. He had already met with then President
Yanukovych three times that year. The Europeans always had the feeling
that the president, who was fond of telling stories from his childhood,
was being completely open with them.
But on that day Füle felt that he was facing a changed man, someone
who seemed to be acting on instructions. Indeed, Yanukovich had met with
Putin in Sochi for hours before meeting Füle. When the EU negotiators
met with Yanukovich in Kiev, the foreign minister, a glaring
apparatchik, was sitting next to him, and they knew that this meeting
would have a different outcome.
Suddenly Yanukovich was talking about "problems" and "costs." He said
that a Russian expert had explained to him how high the price would be
for turning toward Europe, noting that Ukraine would be losing $15 or
$16 billion a year. Füle was speechless and switched from English to
Russian, hoping to reach Yanukovich. But he merely held onto a piece of
paper from which he was stubbornly rattling off figures indicating how
far trade with Russia had already declined.
The meeting was over after an hour. The EU commissioner planned to
make another trip to Kiev on Nov. 21, but the visit never took place.
Füle was about to board his flight in Brussels when the Ukrainian
government announced that it was unfortunately unable to sign the
planned association agreement.
"They didn't even call us first," says Füle. When he met with
Yanukovich again in late January, the meeting lasted only 30 minutes.
The Ukrainian president spent 29 of those minutes speaking.
Heroes and Scoundrels in Crimea
The armed Russian and Ukrainian "brothers" will continue to face off
until at least next Sunday, the day of the planned Crimea referendum.
This is especially true in the Severnaya, or northern bay of Sevastopol,
where the Black Sea fleet was divided up between the two newly created
countries after the collapse of the Soviet Union, and where the Russian
and Ukrainian navies have been docked, practically ship's side to ship's
side, ever since.
From a forward observation post above the harbor, Oleg, a Russian elite soldier, has the officers of the Slavutych,
a Ukrainian warship, within the range of his Kalashnikov. He can see
that they have hung mattresses over the side of the ship to protect
themselves against grappling hooks, and that they are using ropes to
inconspicuously pull food on board. This is how the Ukrainians intend to
hold out, as they have refused to submit to Russian demands to
surrender.
Oleg calmly watches the spectacle below. Only his brown eyes are
visible underneath a ski mask pulled down over his nose, and he speaks
Russian. The soldier says he's from the area near Rostov-on-Don, but he
refuses to provide any information about his unit. He has the muscular
body of one of the elite fighters who were reportedly transferred
directly to Crimea after the Olympics in Sochi.
Oleg and a dozen of his fellow soldiers are manning their posts to
"help Crimea," as he calls it. "We will stay here at least until the
referendum," he says. In early February, only 40 percent of Crimeans
were in favor of joining Russia, even though ethnic Russians make up the
majority on the peninsula. In the current mood, however, the vote is
likely to shift much more clearly in Putin's favor.
When asked what will happen to the Ukrainians down below -- the ones
he has in his sights -- he says, "If they want to get out of here, then
no problem. But they'll have to leave their ships behind."
REPORTED BY NIKOLAUS BLOME, ERICH FOLLATH,
MATTHIAS GEBAUER, CHRISTIANE HOFFMANN, UWE KLUSSMANN, WALTER MAYR,
CHRISTIAN NEEF, RALF NEUKIRCH, MATTHIAS SCHEPP, FIDELIUS SCHMID, GREGOR
PETER SCHMITZ, HOLGER STARK
Translated from the German by Christopher Sultan