For his part, the president and the team he chooses, in the light of what has happened, cannot simply ignore the clearly expressed will of the people to which they so often refer. They cannot close their eyes to the fact that the biggest voter is Russia’s socio-economic situation, which is continuing to deteriorate with no prospect of improvement in sight. What is needed now is no longer just policy adjustments but a completely new policy, based, of course, on the rule of law and civilized market relations.
On New Year’s Eve 1993, I pondered a great deal over what had come about in the year that was ending. My thoughts were mostly apprehensive and gloomy, as I told the correspondent of Rabochaya Tribuna [Workers’ Tribune], V. Kovalev:
Of course I am distressed by what has taken place in the past two years. I do my best to speak about it frankly and honestly, and that seems particularly necessary at present. I am disturbed by the backing away from freedoms we had gained, from Glasnost and democratic institutions that were just beginning to operate. If anyone imagines they can bring about order and stability by rejecting democracy, they are much mistaken. As regards respect for the law, that is a prerequisite for effective functioning of all the branches of government. We need firm implementation of laws, not arbitrary despotism. If we allow that, we may drift back to Stalinism, and that is not disciplined governance but destruction of the country. We have no right to let that happen.
All our past experience tells us that what Russia needs today is policies that unite people, not divisiveness.
Defects of the new constitution
I thought a good deal about the newly adopted constitution, discussed it with colleagues, and came to the conclusion that it needed more work.
Even in the fairly well-drafted section on rights and freedoms there were obvious weaknesses. Without an effective mechanism of guarantee, the principle of direct entitlement to rights and freedoms was likely to remain no more than fine words. A careful reading of certain articles suggested that, unless changes were made, we could probably say goodbye to free education and health provision. There was a lack of much-needed clarity.
Other sections, especially those dealing with the relationship between the branches of government, were in need of even greater revision. There was a disproportionate expansion of the powers of the president, together with substantial cutting back of the powers of parliament. In addition, the powers of the president were spelled out in far greater detail than those of the other branches. The legal procedure for holding him to account was so extraordinarily complex as to make it all but impossible.
I thought it very unhelpful to the president to have such an insignificant parliament; it only devalued the gains already made by democracy. A major politician needs strong democratic institutions to safeguard his policies against miscalculation. In their absence, no amount of talk about democracy will prevent its destruction.
Regrettably, my concerns proved only too justified. The new constitution, which started being referred to as the Yeltsin Constitution, was increasingly used to justify and legitimate the president’s personal power, with all the inevitable accompanying ills: impunity and unaccountability of his close circle and insiders; arbitrary misconduct towards ‘the rest’; underhand intrigues by Yeltsin’s ‘courtiers’; and so on.
Those drafting the constitution were distinguished specialists in constitutional law. Today it seems extraordinary that they ‘overlooked’ some of its peculiarities, like the only too well-known provision that the president cannot serve more than two terms in succession but, if he just takes a break, there is no problem! It seems entirely possible that Yeltsin was envisaging just such a possibility, although his age and state of health made it unlikely he would be able to take advantage of it himself. That was done instead, as we know, by Vladimir Putin.
The constitution’s major flaw, however, was its ‘super-presidential’ character. In combination with our monarchist tradition and the deferential attitude to higher authority typical of the Russian national character, this presented a real risk of creating an autocratic regime. Some of the scholars involved in drafting the constitution – for example, Viktor Sheynis – hoped that, over time, the imbalance of power in favour of the executive arm would be adjusted through expansion of the monitoring functions of the parliament, but this, needless to say, did not happen. With every year that passed the tendency became more apparent for the democratic potential of the new constitution to be given only limited implementation, while its authoritarian potential was realized to the full.
1994 Gets Off to a Bad Start
I spent the first months of 1994 completing the writing of Life and Reforms, published in English as Memoirs.[1] Two years was not long to complete memoirs covering the whole of my life and, most importantly, the years of Perestroika. It was important to ensure as high a degree of accuracy as possible when relating the course of events, to verify assessments and critically rethink what was done. That was important not only for the reader, but also for me. I have often returned to this book since, rereading it, and I believe it will remain an important source for historians and anyone wishing to understand that period.
Like millions of Russians, I could not help wondering what lay ahead for the country after the painful tragedy of October 1993. Would we ever find the road to social harmony? If the president and government set their sights on restoring social consensus and implementing reform on that basis, many past mistakes could yet be put right and much guilt redeemed. I decided to adopt that attitude also to the State Duma’s decision to amnesty all those involved in the coup and the shelling of the parliament.
I had a low opinion of this ‘mutual forgiveness’ of people who had repeatedly broken the law and bore joint responsibility for the predicament in which the country found itself. I had always advocated seeing the trial of the members of the State Emergency Committee through to the end in order to establish all the facts and determine the degree of guilt. Otherwise, I warned, we would learn nothing from the events of August 1991. As I said in an interview for Interfax:
The real question is the motive behind the State Duma’s amnesty. If the aim is genuinely to effect national reconciliation, that is something I am prepared to accept. Russia is on the brink of a precipice and in danger of disintegrating. Now is a time for setting feuds aside and rescuing the state and the Russian people from discord and vendettas. That is how Spain dealt with the issues left over from its Civil War and the Franco regime.
The country, and I mean the Soviet Union, was irreparably damaged in August 1991. The coup directly affected me personally. It was a drama, but I am prepared to put the interests of Russia and Russians above my own interests, with the proviso only that the amnesty will genuinely help to maintain the unity of the state.
If, however, tomorrow we hear representatives of the Liberal Democratic Party and the Communists declaring that this amnesty represents their victory over democracy, if Russia’s Choice again starts calling on people to demonstrate in the squares and demand the dissolution of the Duma, the amnesty will have brought nothing but trouble.
Subsequent events showed that the amnesty was not a step along the road to reconciliation and harmony. The abandoning of the case against the State Emergency Committee was seen by the defendants as a victory and an opportunity to put about their latest version of events, to whitewash themselves and denigrate Gorbachev. Neither did the Russian government get round to doing what would genuinely have facilitated social harmony. There was no change in their behaviour or how they arrived at decisions.
1
M. S. Gorbachev,