In fact, however, one has the impression that the ruling ‘elite’ has a direct interest in reducing citizens’ participation. Why else would the quorum for valid elections have been reduced at federal level from 50 per cent to 25 per cent, while for local elections it can be even lower.
Our bureaucrats seem to think that the fewer people who vote in the elections, the surer they can be of obtaining the result they require.
All this is going on against a background of other developments over recent years. I have in mind the restriction on the independence of the electronic mass media to report; the ubiquitous abuse of government administrative resources during election campaigns; the tightening of laws governing the conduct of meetings and demonstrations; the adoption of a law on referendums which has made it almost impossible for them to be conducted other than at the instigation of the state authorities; and intensification of control over the activities of nongovernmental organizations. What does this all add up to in a state of affairs where all the governors belong to the same party?
Is this really justified by national characteristics of our democracy or other external circumstances? I think not.
Of course, democracy must indeed be rooted in the soil of each country, and has its own national peculiarities. There are, however, some universal principles. Restrictions that might be necessary in a situation where people’s lives and the very existence of the state are under threat should be regarded as temporary and not perpetuated as basic principles, as is being done by the theorists of ‘sovereign’ or ‘managed’ democracy. Such collocations distort the very essence of democracy, no less than it was distorted by designations like ‘socialist’ or ‘people’s’ democracy.
We are constantly reminded of the need to fight terrorism and extremism. No reasonable person would deny it, but when a law is passed that defines extremism so broadly that it can be used to suppress any opposition or dissent, one has to disagree. The beneficiary of such legislation and restriction of the electoral rights of Russian citizens is the bureaucracy in its campaign to shield itself from public accountability.
There has been a lot of talk lately about the need to rein in the bureaucracy, but the only effective antidote to its high-handedness is a mature civil society with robust legislation and feedback between the state authorities and the population. If, however, the bureaucracy is beyond the reach of genuine scrutiny from above and below and is, into the bargain, corrupt, it is in a position to turn democratic arrangements into a mere formality, discrediting and devaluing democracy itself, even calling into question whether it has any use.
Analysing the current difficulties of our democratic processes brings us back to the eternal Russian question: what is to be done? The first priority is to recognize that with the current legislation in place it is impossible to hold genuinely democratic elections and ensure genuine participation by the people in the political process.
There is still time to put matters right. I believe the president, with his ability to veto, should now make use of his powers and great authority. Decisive action on his part could transform the situation. Much depends at this time on him alone. I am sure the president’s actions will be supported by the citizens of Russia.
Ultimately it is for all of us, the people of Russia, to decide whether the country develops in the direction of real involvement of citizens in public affairs or whether the model of paternalistic bureaucratic guardianship prevails. I have no doubt that Russia deserves the former.
The choice of the state authorities was becoming ever more apparent, although discussion of the various options relating to the approaching elections was carried on behind the scenes and the rest of us had to be content with overheard snatches of Kremlin conversation. The chorus of voices advising Putin to amend the constitution and continue for a third presidential term was increasingly clamorous and the leaders of a number of neighbouring countries joined in, including, to my surprise, Nursultan Nazarbaev of Kazakhstan. Of course, he himself, and Alexander Lukashenko of Belarus, had personal experience of the arrangement, but it seemed to me that Putin was reluctant to copy them. That he could push their suggested amendments through a tame parliament was not in doubt, and although he frequently declared he had no intention of doing so, there was evidently discussion and vacillation over the issue.
The main thing, it seemed to me, was that the elections should provide a genuine choice between candidates with alternative manifestos. Putin was in a position to give the public competing candidates, a proper election campaign and debates, all of which would greatly restore the health of Russian politics and give them a hefty shove in the direction of democracy. It did not happen. Nevertheless, I gave a lot of credit to him for at least deciding not to run for a third term.
‘I think he is behaving appropriately and in accordance with the Constitution’, I commented in an interview for Interfax. ‘I see that as an important sign that we are dealing with a serious-minded person who supports democratic values. If Putin retires as a democrat, without nominating a successor, he will have rendered a further major service to the people.’
I expressed confidence that ‘President Putin will undoubtedly find a position in his future life and I am sure it will be something substantial’. I went on: ‘Everyone should appreciate the course Putin has taken. It is a matter of great significance for Russia and the world. We are in the process of forming a new nation and it is important to show the world how we treat the Constitution.’ At the same time, other things were taking us in the opposite direction, and I spoke out frankly about them: ‘Step by step, United Russia is exploiting its majority in parliament to dismantle many of the positive features of the electoral system and pave their way to success. That is undemocratic, and the president should have intervened.’
The clamp-down on the press continued and even intensified, both in Moscow and the regions. The president stated that the press should be free but also responsible, a formulation I entirely supported. In reality, though, the state authorities wanted media that did as they were told. ‘A reaction is taking place’, I said, ‘when every three months another television channel is re-nationalized.’ The upshot was that citizens were deprived of their electoral rights, journalists of their freedom of speech and politicians of any possibility of setting up new parties.
I was not in favour of radical steps or rocking the boat. I did not want to see events developing uncontrollably, and at that time there were no reasons or conditions for mass protests. People were feeling the effects of the current improvement in the economy; many families who had recently been living below the poverty line had a sense of relief and hope. Given the circumstances, if the parliamentary election had been conducted along more democratic lines, with soundly based parties in genuine contention, discussion of manifestos and plans, the ruling party could still have achieved a respectable result, although not an overwhelming majority. Unfortunately, the authorities were intent on ensuring that parliament continued to be ‘no place for discussion’, as Boris Gryzlov, chairman of the Duma, had once so eloquently put it.
The year 2008 started out looking not to be just another year in Russian politics. The presidential election was going to be an important event, although it was already clear it would not be a milestone in the development of the Russian state and Russian politics. No election whose result is fixed can perform the supremely important function of renewal, providing an influx of new blood, a righting of wrongs and correcting of mistakes made by those previously in power.