How does a country ever attain a workable democracy when its intelligence services have been allowed to get out of control? That is particularly the case in Russia, where the Communist government gave unlimited control to the very worst of its citizens.
The intelligence services in Russia were intended to terrorise, torture and murder all opponents, with no attempt to curb them. In the circumstances, the very worst people were recruited, those with no morals or empathy or respect for justice, fairness or the law. Communism fell, but the intelligence services remained in the hands of the people who least deserved to have that much power.
Before long, the intelligence services invaded and corrupted all aspects of Russian life. They gained control of Russian businesses, and, as Litvenenko and Felshtinsky make clear in Blowing Up Russia, they worked to destroy democracy, dragging Boris Yeltsin into an unwinnable conflict with Chechenia, which destroyed his international standing and brought about his downfall, allowing Vladimir Putin, one of their own number, to take over the country and run it in an authoritarian way.
The war with Chechenia was manufactured for this purpose, with a range of terror attacks carried out by the intelligence services, and then passed off as being the work of Chechen terrorists. The intelligence services did not care how many Russians or Chechens died in order to allow them to secure greater control of government.
Anyone who opposed them or found out too much about what was going on was murdered, including Litvinenko, who was poisoned before the book was published.
Blowing Up Russia is a dismaying book, portraying a country that is damned by its history, unable to escape the damage done by Stalinism. It is a troubling book for us too. When we hear stories about Trump’s presidency, Farage’s Reform Party or the Brexit campaign being manipulated by Putin’s Russian government, this can sound like the worst kind of conspiracy theory.
After reading this book, it is easy to imagine that the intelligence services who have had so much success in their own country might indeed feel confident enough to begin shaping the governments of other nations too.
The reader may well feel helpless in the sight of this. Nazism did far less long-term damage to Germany because the country was decisively defeated in war, and the victors were able to remove the worst institutions and individuals. Russia was never defeated in war, and perhaps never could be. It is simply too large a state to be completely overran by its neighbours.
With the arrival of the nuclear age, such a scenario is now impossible. There is a reason why Ukraine will never be Putin’s Poland. However appalled many western countries might be, and however much help they wish to give to Ukraine, there will be no World War to curtail Russia, as the dangers are too great.
So Russia must find a way to heal itself, and that seems unthinkable now. Perhaps the country will need to be convulsed by a crisis so severe that even the criminal bureaucracy running its affairs cannot lie, cheat, manipulate or murder its way out of trouble.
Regarding Litvenenko and Felshtinsky’s book, it is a dry affair that is not easy to read if you do not understand much about modern Russian affairs. The writers offer no detailed overview of Russian politics, focusing only on a small number of events. The reader may get lost amidst all the organisations with different initials and all the officials and criminals that are name-checked by the authors.
That is a pity, as the book has some interesting points to make. I am not familiar enough with contemporary Russia to offer an analysis of the book’s accuracy, but read enough to feel concern and pessimism for the future of both Russia and the rest of the world while this situation is perpetuated.