Part 17

"In democracies the middle class is the nation proper. The typical member of a national community is a member of the middle class. When democratic governments need a social group they can address, a universal class that carries the overarching, common interest of the country, they appeal to the middle class. This appeal, while it calls on a common interest, also acknowledges that there are conflicting interests within society. The middle class is not everyone, but it is the majority and it represents what everyone else can become."

Russia has a long way to go to achieve this ubiquity. Its middle class, far from representing the consensus, reifies the growing abyss between haves and haves not. Its members' conspicuous consumption, mostly of imports, does little to support the local economy. Its political might is self-serving. It has no ethos, or distinct morality, no narrative, or ideology. The Russian middle class is at a Hobbesian and primordial stage.

Whether it emerges from its narcissistic cocoon to become a leading and guiding social force, is doubtful. The middle class' youth, urbaneness, cosmopolitanism, polyglotism, mobility, avarice and drive are viewed with suspicion and envy by the great unwashed - the overwhelming majority of Russia's destitute population. Empowered by their wealth, the new bourgeoisie, in turn, regards the "people" with naive admiration, patronizing condescension, or horror.

Granted, this muted, subterranean, interaction is not entirely deleterious. It is the social role of the rich to generate demand by provoking in the poor jealousy and attempts at emulation. The wealthy are the trendsetters, the early adopters, the pioneers, the buzz leaders. They are the engine that engenders social and economic mobility.

A similar dynamic is admittedly evident in Russia - but, again, it is tampered by a curious local phenomenon.

Writing for the Globalist, two Brookings Institution scholars, Carol Graham, a Senior Fellow of Economic Studies and Clifford Gaddy, a Fellow of Foreign Policy and Governance Studies described it thus:

"The eyes of Russia's middle class, on the other hand, are figuratively directed downward, towards the poor. In fact, as poverty in Russia increased dramatically in the 1990s, the middle class's reference norms shifted downward as well. As a result, Russia may be the only country in the world where the "subjective poverty line" is falling.

That is, the amount of money that Russians say that they need in order to stay out of poverty has been steadily falling over the past five years. It is even below the objective poverty line. For the time being, at least, these curious Russian attitudes, along with the existence of the non-monetary virtual economy, have insulated the country against political upheaval."

The list of anomalies is not exhausted.

The new middle class comprises the embryonic legitimate business elite - entrepreneurs, professionals and managers - but not the remnants of the financially strapped intelligentsia. It is brawn with little brains. In dissonance with western Europe, according to a survey published in the last two years by Expert magazine, the majority of its members are nationalistic, authoritarian and xenophobic. Their self-interested economic liberalism is coupled with social and political intolerance. But two thirds of them support some kind of welfare state.

Thus, there are major differences between the middle class in the West and its ostensible counterpart in Russia.

The Russian parvenus - many of them women - do not believe their state, their banks, or their compatriots. They fear a precarious future and its inevitable calamities though they are not risk averse and are rather optimistic in the short run. They keep their money under the proverbial mattress, invest it surreptitiously in their ventures, or smuggle it abroad. They are not - yet - stakeholders in their country's stability and prosperity.

Often bamboozled by other businessmen and fleeced by a rapacious bureaucracy, they are paranoid. Tax evasion is still rampant, though abating. They trust in equity and avoid debt. Some of them have criminal roots or a criminal mindset - or are former members of Russia's shady security services.

Three fifths, according to the Expert-Komkon survey, find it "hard to survive" when "observing all laws". "Strong leaders are better than all sorts of laws" is their motto, quoted by Izvestia. Generally, they are closer to being robbers than barons.

Early capitalism is always unruly. It is transformed into a highly structured edifice by the ownership of land and realty (the prime collateral), the protection of private property, a functioning financial system comprised of both banks and capital markets and the just and expedient application of the rule of law.

Russia has none of these. According to Business Week, bank deposits amount to 4 percent of the country's mid-size GDP - compared to half of GDP in other industrialized countries. Mortgages are unheard of, deposits are not insured and land ownership is a novel proposition. The judiciary is venal and incompetent. Might is still right in vast swathes of the land.

The state and the oligarchs continue to represent a rent-seeking opportunity. Businessmen spend time seeking concessions, permits, exemptions and licenses rather than conducting business. The "civic institutions" they form - chambers of commerce, clubs - are often mere glorified lobbying outfits of special and vested interests. Informal networks of contacts count more than any statute or regulation. In such a mock "modern state" no wonder Russia ended up with a Potemkin "middle class".

Russia in 2003

By: Dr. Sam Vaknin

Also published by United Press International (UPI)

Contrary to recent impressions, Russia's Western (American-German) orientation is at least as old as Gorbachev's reign. It was vigorously pursued by Yeltsin. Still, 2002 marks the year in which Russia became merely another satellite of the United States - though one armed with an ageing nuclear arsenal.

Russia's economy has revived remarkably after the 1998 crisis, but it is still addicted to Western investments, aid and credits. Encircled by NATO to its West and US troops stationed in its central Asian hinterland, Russia's capitulation is complete. In the aftermath of conflicts to be engineered by the United States in Afghanistan, Iraq, North Korea, Iran, Syria and, potentially, Cuba - Russia may feel threatened geopolitically as well as economically. Both Iran and Iraq, for instance, are large trading partners and leading export destinations of the Russian Federation.

If anything can undo the hitherto impressive personality cult of Russia's new "strong man", Vladimir Putin, it is this injured pride among the more penumbral ranks of the country's security services. Russia's history is littered with the bloodied remains of upheavals wrought by violent ideological minorities and by assorted conspirators.

Hence Putin's tentative - and reluctant - attempts to team up with China and India to establish a multi-polar world and his closer military cooperation with Kyrgyzstan and Armenia - both intended to counter nationalistic opposition at home.

Luckily, the sense of decline is by no means prevalent.

Russians polled by the American Pew Research Center admitted that they feel much better in a world dominated by the United States as a single superpower. The KGB and its successors - Putin's former long-term employers - actually engineered Russia's opening to the West and the president's meteoric ascendancy. And no one in the army seriously disputes the need for reform, professionalization and merciless trimming of the bloated corps.

Reforms - of the military, Russia's decrepit utilities, dilapidated infrastructure and housing, inflated and venal bureaucracy, corrupt judiciary and civil service, choking monopolies and pernicious banking sector - depend on the price of oil. Russia benefited mightily from the surge in the value of the "black gold". But the windfall has helped mask pressing problems and allowed timid legislators and officials to postpone much needed - and fiercely resisted - changes.

Russia's "economic miracle" - oft-touted by the "experts" that brought you "shock therapy" and by egregiously self-interested, Moscow-based, investment bankers - is mostly prestidigitation. As the European Bank for Reconstruction and Development (EBRD) correctly noted in November, Russia's 20 percent growth in the last three years merely reflects enhanced usage of capacity idled by the ruination of 1998.