Yeltsin’s critics in the West, who are legion, rely on the economic and socioeconomic distress of the time to fuel their indictments. One oft-voiced criticism rivets a Burkean animus against social engineering to left-of-center political values. Historian Stephen F. Cohen, for example, argues that Gorbachev had shown Soviet communism to be reformable and that piecemeal adaptation of the old system, statist and respectful of Russian custom, was preferable to throwing caution to the winds. The drive to rebuild Russia from the ground up, abetted by an evangelizing America, was guilty of the “de-modernization” of a great industrial nation: “Never… have so many fallen so far.”77 Political scientist Peter Reddaway and Russian coauthor, Dmitri Glinski, agree with Cohen on the noxiousness of the changes of the 1990s (Russia was “slowly succumbing to shock therapy’s sequelae while the world watches”), but save their sharpest harpoons for the “market Bolshevik” techniques used to bring them about. Yeltsin and company, in the service of anti-Marxist objectives, were like the Marxist revolutionaries of old in exemplifying “the self-confident, almost messianic vanguard mentality of a self-anointed elite that sees itself entitled to impose ‘progress’ and ‘development’… on the ‘backward’ majority.” Shock therapy, they say, was an “administrative revolution from above” comparable to Stalin’s collectivization of Soviet agriculture.78 The titles of the two books—Failed Crusade: America and the Tragedy of Post-Communist Russia, by Cohen, and The Tragedy of Russia’s Reforms: Market Bolshevism against Democracy, by Reddaway and Glinski—give away their contents.
The changes Yeltsin set in train in 1991–92 deserve more nuanced analysis than this. There are several perspectives from which this is true. One pertains to the circumstances of the reforms. The slump of the 1990s was to be bad but not as bad as frequently depicted, and the government data that track it exclude the illegal and informal sector. Economic shrinkage was ubiquitous in the post-communist space in Eastern Europe and Eurasia. In that the coming apart of the Soviet Union wreaked havoc on supply networks and trade flows among the CIS nations, they were all at a disadvantage compared to their neighbors west of the pre-1991 Soviet border. On output loss, Russia fared perceptibly better than the CIS average, and was not in a league of its own.79 It did so despite unique handicaps going into the reform maelstrom. Russia was saddled with 80 to 90 percent of the bloated military-industrial complex of the Soviet Union, demand for whose wares tumbled after the Cold War. It would have had an easier time of it had it not agreed to bear all of the USSR’s debt, the bulk of it incurred by Gorbachev, and if it had controlled its money supply out of the starting gate and not waited until 1993 or 1994 for the ex-republics to jettison the ruble. Russia would have been much better off if world prices for oil, its most precious natural resource, had not dipped below $20 a barrel for most of the post-Soviet decade. The petrodollars that producers were to be flooded with in the 2000s would have limited the sag in Russian GDP and kept the Yeltsin government out of the red.80
Another corrective comes from pondering the Yeltsin revolution in time. The troubles that stimulated his attack on communism did not come out of thin air. Derived from defects hardwired into it by Lenin and Stalin, they heaped up over decades. Well before Yeltsin moved from Sverdlovsk to Moscow in 1985, system decay was manifesting itself in economic decline, social division, and anomie. Once the myopia about these problems was dispelled, large segments of the elite and the population chafed, as they were bound to, at what they took as half-solutions to them. Panglossian assessments of the reformability of the Soviet regime elide this impatience and the rudderless changes and mismanaged mini-reforms that made the everyday life of most Russians bedlam in the perestroika years. Reforming the system from within, as Gorbachev meant to do, was a respectable choice. Heading for the exits was a cleaner and better one.81
Economic liberalization fused to political autocracy and a strong state—not to Gorbachev’s muzzy humanism—was effected in communist China after the death of Chairman Mao Zedong in 1976. The Soviet Union could possibly have pursued this formula, although it was more industrialized and did not have China’s ethnic uniformity and its sea of rural labor. The window of opportunity for adopting a Chinese model was the Kremlin tenure of Yurii Andropov, the righteous former chairman of the KGB, in 1982–84; Andropov was not in power long enough, or definite enough on his policies, to be its guiding spirit. In 1991, after a half-decade of upheaval, atomization of the political class, and state deconstruction, the window was long since closed.82 Decontrolling prices was the sine qua non for uncorking market forces. When Yeltsin decided to let prices go, Gorbachev, who had refused to drink from this chalice for years, was pleased, one of his aides felt, that Yeltsin “was ready to take upon himself the responsibility for reforms fraught with serious social shocks and to relieve Gorbachev of it.”83 The prime alternative was to recentralize and rebureaucratize the economy, with the option of embarking at a later date on reforms in the mold of Deng Xiaoping. Institutional malaise, the legitimacy deficit, and the nationality problem made such a course impractical without a clampdown that could have rivaled the 1989 massacre in Beijing’s Tienanmen Square.84 The one option not on the table was to do nothing.
Considering the Yeltsin record as de-modernization or a tragedy from start to finish sheds more heat than light. From the vantage of 1992 or 1995, there was little to show statistically for shock therapy. By the day Yeltsin called it quits in 1999, the cradle of state socialism boasted a market economy of sorts. Sixty to 70 percent of material and financial assets, everything from newspaper kiosks to coal mines and aluminum mills, were off the government’s books, and most goods and services traded at a going price set by profit-oriented private firms. Anatolii Chubais’s privatization had few precedents in Russia, where history and the cultural fiber are congruent with state power, and was the largest divestiture of state resources anywhere in history. Inflation was wrestled down into the double digits by 1996, jumped in 1998 when Russia was in financial crisis, and receded to double digits in 1999 and henceforth. Russia by 1999 had a stock exchange (it first appeared in Moscow in 1994), commodity exchanges by the dozen, private banks by the hundred, and scads of business schools. Most pertinent politically, economic growth had resumed, and there has been no stopping it since then. Russia overshot the CIS norm in length of the economic contraction after communism; it undershot it in magnitude of the contraction. With better leadership and better public policy, the economy might have bottomed out several years sooner—on average, output was lowest in the twelve CIS countries in 1996, versus 1998 in Russia—and it might have begun to expand, and the standard of living to improve, several years sooner.
Yeltsin’s post-communist reforms transcended the economy. By relaxing the hammerlock of the state on production and distribution, Yeltsin parted with dogma and breathed into being new social categories, and ones that did not necessarily meet with social approval—a propertied middle class, people of means (parodied in the popular culture as the crass “New Russians”), and the super-rich parvenus, “the oligarchs.” In daily life, for all the problems, within six months Russia was done with artificial scarcities and the lineups in which the average Soviet adult had wasted one hour per day, waiting to buy sausage or vodka or matches, in 1990. Home ownership went up from 33 percent in 1990 to about 60 percent in 2000. Reform also created political space by enlarging citizens’ autonomy, breeding new interests, and making new resources available for acquiring influence in the public domain.85 And sweeping changes, economic and non-economic, had sweeping implications worldwide as well. Russia, as Yeltsin was to say from every podium offered, no longer had any foundational reason to stand apart from the United States or the Western alliance.