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“Knowledge and understanding of Russian society and its political trajectories have seldom
been more important than they are today. Graeme Gill, a highly respected and insightful
Russian expert, has brought together, in this Handbook of remarkable scope, an outstanding
international team of specialists who illuminate almost every aspect of post- Communist
Russia.”
Archie Brown, University of Oxford, UK, and author of
The Rise and Fall of Communism
“This timely update provides a comprehensive and authoritative guide to Russian politics. Gill
has brought together many of the world’s leading experts in a single volume, who are able to
provide a state-of-the-art overview of current knowledge on their topic. An outstanding and
indispensable contribution to Russian studies.”
Brian D. Taylor, Syracuse University, USA
“This book combines excellent scholarship from the leading experts in the field of Russian
politics and society with a broad and almost exhaustive range of addressed topics. Undoubtedly,
this nuanced overview presented so nicely will be a useful read for both newbies and academics
who specialise on Russia.”
Guzel Yusupova, SCRIPTS, Berlin, Germany
ii
iii
This second edition of the highly respected Routledge Handbook of Russian Politics and Society both
provides a broad overview of the area and highlights cutting-edge research into the country.
Through balanced theoretical and empirical investigation, each chapter examines both the
Russian experience and the existing literature, identifies and exemplifies research trends, and
highlights the richness of experience, history, and continued challenges inherent to this endur-
ingly fascinating and shifting polity. Politically, economically, and socially, Russia has one of
the most interesting development trajectories of any major country. This Handbook answers
questions about democratic transition, the relationship between the market and democracy,
stability and authoritarian politics, the development of civil society, the role of crime and
corruption, the development of a market economy, and Russia’s likely place in the emerging
new world order.
Providing a comprehensive resource for scholars, students, and policy makers alike, this book
is an essential contribution to the study of Russian studies/politics, Eastern European studies/
politics, and International Relations.
ROUTLEDGE HANDBOOK OF
RUSSIAN POLITICS AND
SOCIETY
Second Edition
CONTENTS
PART 1
Introduction 1
1 Introduction 3
Graeme Gill
4 Democratisation 33
Richard Sakwa
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viii
Contents
PART 2
Politics 61
8 The presidency 87
John P. Willerton
16 Decision-making 182
Stephen Fortescue
viii
ix
Contents
PART 3
Political economy 251
24 The Russian corporation: Between neoliberalism and the security state 274
Peter Rutland
PART 4
Society 297
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x
Contents
40 Religion 463
Thomas Bremer
PART 5
Foreign policy 475
41 Russian foreign policy and the challenge to the existing world order 477
Roger E. Kanet
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xi
Contents
46 The Kremlin’s reverse democracy: Relations with the Caucasus region 532
Lilia A. Arakelyan
48 Russia and the European Union: The path to a strategic disengagement 555
Andrey Kortunov
Index 579
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FIGURES
xii
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TABLES
5.1 Population 47
5.2 Population change 48
5.3 Life expectancy 49
5.4 GDP per capita 51
5.5 Employment in research and development 52
5.6 Human development index 54
5.7 Democracy 56
5.8 Press freedom 57
5.9 Corruption 58
5.10 Rule of law 59
6.1 Average GDP growth 66
6.2 World Bank Governance Indicators (WBGI) 67
6.3 Personalist authoritarian leaders in the FSU 71
10.1 Presidential election results, 1996–2018 112
10.2 State Duma election results (party list votes), 1993–2021 113
10.3 Perceptions of fairness, 1999–2016 State Duma elections 121
11.1 Political parties in Duma elections, 1993–2021 128
11.2 Party families in Russia, 1993–2021 130
12.1 The structure of budget revenues of urban districts 142
17.1 Russia in WGI, 1996–2020 200
17.2 Russia and post-Soviet political regimes and quality of institutions
(FH and WGI 2020) 201
36.1 Integrating the opposites 416
36.2 The 3Cs model of informal governance 419
37.1 Russia’s scores in TI’s CPI (selected years) 427
37.2 Russians’ experience of corruption –bribery rates 427
37.3 OC’s impact on business according to the Global Competitiveness Report 428
xiii
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List of tables
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xv
CONTRIBUTORS
Sarah Ashwin is Professor of Industrial Relations at the London School of Economics. She
has published extensively on gender relations in Russia, developing different aspects of gender
theory by interrogating Russia’s stalled gender revolution.
Helge Blakkisrud is Associate Professor of Russian Studies at the University of Oslo. His
research interests include centre–region relations in the Russian Federation and nation-building
and nationalism in Eurasia. His most recent book is Russia Before and After Crimea: Nationalism
and Identity, 2010–2017 (co-edited with Pål Kolstø).
Thomas Bremer is Professor Emeritus, Ecumenical Theology and Eastern Churches Studies,
University of Münster, Germany. His research interests are Eastern Orthodoxy in Russia
and the Balkans, and interchurch relations. Among his publications are Cross and Kremlin: A
Brief History of the Orthodox Church in Russia and Churches in the Ukrainian Crisis (edited with
A. Krawchuk).
Irina Busygina is Visiting Scholar at the Davis Center, Harvard University. She is the author
of Russia-EU Relations and the Common Neighborhood: Coercion Versus Authority.
Paul Chaisty is Professor of Russian and East European Studies at the University of Oxford.
His latest book is Coalitional Presidentialism in Comparative Perspective: Minority Presidents in
Multiparty Systems (with Nic Cheeseman and Tim Power).
Stephen Crowley is Professor of Politics at Oberlin College and has written widely on labour
and the political economy of post-communist transformations. His most recent book is Putin’s
Labor Dilemma: Russian Politics between Stability and Stagnation.
xv
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List of contributors
Jan Matti Dollbaum is a postdoctoral researcher at the University of Bremen, studying protest
and contentious politics in the post-Soviet space and across regime types. He has recently co-
authored the first book-length study on Aleksei Navalny and his political movement.
Jules Sergei Fediunin is a postdoctoral researcher at the School for Advanced Studies in the
Social Sciences in Paris. His research focuses on Russian and European nationalism, populism,
ethnic conflict, and diversity management. He is the co-author of the monograph Natsiya i
demokratiya.
Mikhail Filippov is Professor of Comparative Politics at the State University of New York
(Binghamton NY). Among his recent publications have been papers in the Journal of Eurasian
Studies and Problems of Post-Communism.
Stephen Fortescue worked for a number of years in Soviet-related business, following which
he held research positions at the Australian National University (1982–4) and the University of
Birmingham (1985–6). He then took up a teaching position at the University of New South
Wales, which he held until his retirement in 2013.
Leah Gilbert is Associate Professor of Political Science at Lewis & Clark College. Among her
recent publications have been papers appearing in Demokratizatsiya and Mediterranean Politics.
Graeme Gill is Professor Emeritus at the University of Sydney. His latest book is entitled
Bridling Dictators. Rules and Authoritarian Politics.
Alexey Golubev is Associate Professor of Russian History at the University of Houston. His
latest book is Things of Life: Materiality in Late Soviet Russia.
Derek S. Hutcheson is Professor of Political Science and Vice Dean of the Faculty of Culture
and Society at Malmö University, Sweden. He has written extensively about Russian and post-
Soviet politics since the 1990s, including Parliamentary Elections in Russia: A Quarter-Century of
Multiparty Politics.
Roger E. Kanet is Professor Emeritus at both The University of Miami and The University
of Illinois at Champaign-Urbana. He is the editor of the Routledge Handbook of Russian Security.
xvi
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List of contributors
Andrey Kortunov is Director General of the Russian International Affairs Council. The
author of many works, his most recent published report is The World Order Crisis and the Future
of Globalization.
Natasha Kuhrt is Senior Lecturer in the Department of War Studies, King’s College London.
Her research interests include international law, conflict, and intervention, as well as a regional
focus on Russian foreign and security policies, particularly in Asia.
Alena Ledeneva is Professor of Politics and Society at University College London and a
founder of the Global Informality Project (in-formality.com) and The Global Encyclopedia of
Informality. She graduated from Cambridge University (Newnham) and authored Russia’s
Economy of Favours.
Alexander Libman is Professor of Russian and East European Politics at the Freie Universität
Berlin. He is an economist and political scientist working in particular on the sub-national and
international dimensions of Russian authoritarianism.
Olga Malinova is Professor in the Department of Social Sciences at the National Research
University-Higher School of Economics and Chief Research Fellow of the Institute of Scientific
Information for Social Sciences, Russian Academy of Sciences in Moscow. She studies Russian
political discourse and symbolic politics. Among her recent publications are papers in Problems
of Post-Communism and Nationalities Papers.
Svetlana Mareeva is Candidate of Sciences in Sociology and Head of the Center for
Stratification Studies at the National Research University Higher School of Economics in
Moscow. Her research interests include inequality, perceptions of social inequality, social struc-
ture, and social stratification.
Andrei Melville is Professor of Political Science and Dean of the Faculty of Social Sciences
at the National Research University Higher School of Economics in Moscow. His academic
interests are in comparative politics, regime change, democratisation and authoritarianism, and
world politics. Among his publications is Political Atlas of the Modern World.
Galina Miazhevich is Senior Lecturer at the School of Journalism, Media, and Culture at
Cardiff University. Her latest publication is the edited volume Queering Russian Media and Culture.
xvii
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List of contributors
Rasmus Nilsson is Lecturer at University College, London. His most recent publication is
a study of the state of change in Russia, Central and Eastern Europe over the last thirty years.
Ben Noble is Associate Professor of Russian Politics at University College London, and an
Associate Fellow of Chatham House. His research interests include Russian domestic pol-
itics, legislative politics, and authoritarianism. He is the recipient of a British Academy Rising
Star Award, the Political Studies Association’s Walter Bagehot Prize, and is the co-author of
Navalny: Putin’s Nemesis, Russia’s Future?
Kirill Nourzhanov is Senior Lecturer at the Centre for Arab and Islamic Studies (The Middle
East and Central Asia), the Australian National University. Among his latest books is The Spectre
of Afghanistan: Security in Central Asia (with Amin Saikal).
Nikolay Petrov is Senior Research Fellow in the Russia and Eurasia Programme, The Royal
Institute of International Affairs, London.
William Pomeranz currently serves as Director of the Wilson Center’s Kennan Institute. His
research interests include Russian legal history as well as current Russian commercial and con-
stitutional law. He is the author of Law and the Russian State: Russia’s Legal Evolution from Peter
the Great to Vladimir Putin.
Neil Robinson is Professor of Comparative Politics at the University of Limerick. His recent
publications include Contemporary Russian Politics and Comparative European Politics.
Cameron Ross is Professor of Politics and International Relations in the School of Social
Sciences, University of Dundee. He has published widely in the field of domestic politics in
Russia, with a specialism in federalism, regional politics, and elections. He is Chief Editor of
the journal Russian Politics.
Peter Rutland is the Colin and Nancy Campbell Professor of Global Issues and Democratic
Thought, Wesleyan University.
Richard Sakwa is Professor of Russian and European Politics at the University of Kent at
Canterbury, a Senior Research Fellow at the National Research University Higher School
of Economics in Moscow and an Honorary Professor in the Faculty of Political Science at
Moscow State University. His latest book is Deception: Russiagate and the New Cold War.
xviii
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List of contributors
Kirill Shamiev is Junior Research Fellow at the Center for Comparative Governance Studies
at the Higher School of Economics and a PhD candidate at the Central European University.
His articles have appeared in Armed Forces and Society, CSIS, and RUSI.
Regina Smyth is Professor in the Department of Political Science at Indiana University. She is
author of Elections, Protest, and Authoritarian Regime Stability: Russia 2008–2020.
Olga Solovyeva is PhD candidate at the Open University Business School. Her research
interests lie in the area of technology and society, focusing currently on tech, politics, and
organisation.
Elizabeth Teague was an independent analyst of Russian politics. She had previously
worked with Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty, the OSCE High Commissioner on National
Minorities, the Jamestown Foundation, and the UK Foreign and Commonwealth Office. She
passed away soon after finishing her chapter.
John P. Willerton is Professor of Political Science in the School of Government and Public
Policy at the University of Arizona, Tucson. His research interests are focused on Russian
political elites and political design, and he is the author of a book and roughly 70 articles and
chapters.
Ilya Yablokov is Lecturer in Journalism and Digital Media at the University of Sheffield. His
research interests include Russian media and journalism, as well as disinformation and con-
spiracy theories. He is the author of Fortress Russia: Conspiracy Theories in the Post-Soviet World.
xix
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xxi
PREFACE
The first edition of this Handbook appeared in 2012 and when the possibility of a second
edition was raised, it seemed both a good idea and something that would be very useful. At
the time potential contributors were approached, much had already changed in Russia, both
domestically and in the international context. By the time the chapters were due, the Russian
invasion of Ukraine was underway, stimulating further changes in both the domestic and inter-
national arenas. Where those changes will take Russia remains uncertain as does the timetable
for their final unrolling. Waiting for this to occur may have meant not publishing for a con-
siderable period of time, so it was decided to proceed with the Handbook on the assumption
that wherever Russia does go in the future, it will be on the basis of the situation analysed in
the chapters that follow. Most chapters do not deal with the Ukraine invasion in any detail;
some do, however, discuss the significance of this for their subject. This has been more of a
problem for some chapters than for others, but it is important to remember the cut-off date
when reading all chapters.
The Handbook focuses principally upon the Putin era from 2000. It treats the Medvedev
presidency as a sub-stage of the broader period, both because it was bookended by the presi-
dency of Vladimir Putin and because even during Medvedev’s presidency the continuing power
of Prime Minister Putin is undeniable. The entries have been written by an international group
of scholars from a large number of countries, including Russia. Each chapter, written by an
expert on that particular field, reflects the views of that author. There is no single interpretive
line, and it should not be assumed that the opinions expressed in any particular chapter would
be supported by the other authors. The chapters are either completely new or have been sub-
stantially rewritten from the originals in the first edition.
xxi
xxi
ABBREVIATIONS
xxii
xxi
Abbreviations
xxiii
xxvi
newgenprepdf
Abbreviations
xxiv
1
PART 1
Introduction
2
3
1
INTRODUCTION
Graeme Gill
The decade since the first edition of this Handbook was published has seen significant change
in Russia. This has been less the result of dramatic events than of a process of creeping change,
more evolution than revolution. That having been said, the importance of such change can
hardly be underrated. Those hopes that remained towards the end of Dmitry Medvedev’s presi-
dency for the growth of democracy in Russia have, at least for the time being, been snuffed
out as authoritarian trends in Russia have strengthened. Political control has been tightened,
even while it has been met by increasingly diverse forms of opposition. Economic reform has
seemingly ended, even while economic performance has stuttered under the impact of the
global financial crisis and Western sanctions both before and after the February 2022 invasion
of Ukraine. And as economic performance struggles, life gets more difficult for broad sections
of the Russian population. One part of society that has not been so adversely affected has
been the military, which has enjoyed increased funding and consequent modernisation and
strengthening. This is occurring in the context of an increasingly hostile and complex world,
with both that hostility and complexity being reflected in the Ukrainian crisis that began in
2014 and continues in exacerbated form at the time of writing. Given this catalogue of events
and the importance of Russia on the world scene, the need for an updated Handbook was clear.
In Part 1, Introduction, the chapters provide general and comparative treatments. General
overviews of the Yeltsin and Putin periods are provided respectively by Graeme Gill and
Vladimir Gel’man. Many of the issues that are raised in these overviews are treated in greater
detail in subsequent chapters, meaning that these chapters provide a broader context for such
issues than may be available in the more specialised chapters. The remaining two chapters in this
section of the Handbook provide an international context for the Russian experience. Rodney
Tiffen uses comparative international data to compare Russia with other former republics of
the USSR, with former communist countries of Eastern Europe, and in some cases with
OECD countries. This chapter provides a statistical portrait of the Russian experience over
the post-communist period. This quantitative approach is paralleled by a qualitative analysis
by Richard Sakwa of the literature on democratisation and how it has been applied to Russia
and the post-Soviet experience more generally. Following a rich analysis of the theory, Sakwa
concludes that the Russian experience is not unique; it is one of those less than 80 percent of
countries that have at one time been said to be undergoing democratisation but are not clearly
en route to becoming well-functioning democracies. The point here is that not only has the
DOI: 10.4324/9781003218234-2 3
4
Graeme Gill
theory proved to have significant weaknesses, but that the high hopes for Russia’s democratisa-
tion that were entertained in the early 1990s have to this stage been disappointed.
Part 2 of the Handbook, which deals with the politics of the period, provides substance for
the argument that Russia has followed an authoritarian political course for much of the Putin
period. Kenneth Wilson analyses Putin as a political leader, arguing that he is characterised
by the desire to concentrate political power in his own hands and to prolong his occupa-
tion of supreme power in the country. In this, Wilson argues, Putin is of a type with other
prominent leaders in the former Soviet world (also see Hale 2015). The argument about the
strength of Putin’s leadership and his desire to prolong his own power in office is sustained by
the amendments to the Constitution adopted in 2020 and that are discussed as part of a more
general discussion of the Constitution in Elizabeth Teague’s chapter on that document. Those
amendments, and in particular the resetting of the two-term limit for the presidency for pre-
vious occupants (thus benefiting not only Putin but, in theory, Medvedev too), effectively
achieved what Putin had been pressured to do in 2008 but refused: to alter the Constitution to
enable his continuation in office past the constitutional limit. In doing this he was following the
precedent set by other leaders of former Soviet states, thereby reinforcing the argument that he
is part of a common post-Soviet type of authoritarian leader.
But although Putin clearly exercises power personally, he also rests on an institutional basis.
This is the presidency that is the subject of Pat Willerton’s chapter. The presidency is, constitu-
tionally, the most powerful political institution in the land, leading some to argue that Russia is
a case of “superpresidentialism” (Fish 2005). While Willerton does not use this label to describe
the presidency, he shows the vast power of the institution. This was a potential that could be
mobilised by a vigorous leader like Putin, in stark contrast to Yeltsin whose physical afflictions
prevented him from realising the powers his office involved. The power of that office, and the
capacity of Putin to mobilise it effectively, has meant that for the past two decades the presi-
dency has overshadowed the legislature, which is the subject of the chapter by Ben Noble and
Paul Chaisty. Over time, changes to the upper house, the Federation Council, has undermined
the independence of that body, while in the State Duma the dominant position United Russia
has been able to gain, added to its basic loyalty to Putin, has meant that the legislature has been
less important as an independent actor under Putin than it was under Yeltsin. Nevertheless it
remains an important institution.
During the Putin period, United Russia emerged as the dominant party in the party system,
which is discussed in the chapter by Regina Smyth. Although the party system has seen the
emergence and disappearance of numerous parties, both the Communist Party of the Russian
Federation and the Liberal Democratic Party of Russia have been in the Duma since the first
election in 1993, but under Putin they have functioned as tame “systemic” opposition parties.
United Russia has emerged as the dominant party in the legislature and has remained loyal to
Putin, but it is not a ruling party in the way that the Communist Party was in the USSR. It is
nevertheless the dominant party in a frozen system that has been shaped overwhelmingly by the
regime rather than social cleavages. The elections whereby these parties formally gain legisla-
tive representation, studied in the chapter by Derek Hutcheson, have been held on schedule
but have generally been accounted as not free and fair. The electoral arena in both legislative
and presidential elections has been heavily weighted in favour of Putin (or his proxy Medvedev
in 2008) in the presidential polls and United Russia in the legislative elections. In this sense,
the electoral process has been structured to reinforce central power, although it is important to
recognise that such efforts are not foolproof and cannot always prevent what Alexander Libman
has called “electoral earthquakes”.
4
5
Introduction
The centralising tendency is also evident in the sphere of relations between Moscow and
the regions. Cameron Ross shows in his chapter how the formal federal principles embodied
in the Constitution have been undermined in favour of greater centralisation of power, leading
to what he calls the “defederalisation” of the federation. He attributes this to the weakness of
a civic culture and the lack of a federal and democratic tradition and means that Russia has
become a quasi-unitary state in federal clothing. The changes in the formal federal structure
explained by Ross are underpinned by the basic position of dominance occupied in Russia by
the capital city, Moscow. Moscow’s dominance is discussed in the chapter by Irina Busygina
and Mikhail Filippov, and while they accept that that dominant position depends in part on the
decisions of current political figures, it also reflects the imperatives stemming from Moscow’s
position in Russia’s geo-economic and geo-political landscapes. But while these centralising
forces are powerful, as Libman shows, politics in the regions is also subject to local factors. In
his study of politics in the regions he shows how different patterns of regional power distribu-
tion can co-exist and how these can place some constraint upon the continuing pull of central
power. In his chapter on local government, Nikolay Petrov shows how in the last two decades
higher level controls over municipal government have expanded, highlighted by the 2020 con-
stitutional revisions that integrated this level of government into a unified system of “public
power”.
Decision-making is the focus of the chapter by Stephen Fortescue. He argues that non-
routine decisions tend to be taken under exceptional circumstances and usually in a manner
not open to external observers. In contrast, routine matters tend to be handled in a regularised
fashion, and it is upon these that he concentrates. The result is a study that explains mainly
how the principal institutions of the state interact in the course of making a decision. But of
course decision-making is one thing; implementation is another. The latter depends upon state
capacity, a quality examined in the chapter by Andrei Melville. It is this notion of “capacity”
that is at the heart of the debate about whether Russia has a strong state or not (for example,
Robinson 2002; Tsygankov 2014). Melville shows how capacity may be conceived in terms of
three elements: coercive, extractive and administrative. He argues that state capacity is related to
the political regime and the regime dynamic, and that in contemporary Russia the dominance
of the rent extraction model and nature of the regime has enabled the perpetuation of a weak
state with low capacity.
Central to the argument about whether a regime is authoritarian or not is its relationship
to the law. There is broad acceptance of the principle that democratic states are ruled by law
while authoritarian states rule through law. Like all generalisations, this clear distinction does
not match the nuance; in democracies, politicians often break (or at least bend) the law, and in
autocracies some laws do appear to possess normative authority (Gill 2021). William Pomeranz
discusses the role of law and human rights. He charts the shift of the official attitude to human
rights to one that is more restrictive, marked by the crackdown on human rights since Putin’s
return to the presidency. The law has clearly been used instrumentally as a weapon against
human rights, and thereby as a means of closing down independent public space and opposition
to the regime. The latter, in the form of protest, is the focus of Jan Matti Dollbaum’s chapter.
He charts the course of protest from the major mobilisation of 2011–12 and discusses what pro-
test actually means, including its relationship with both politics and opposition.
Important for the control of protest is the security services and perhaps the military. Both
are also key to the centralisation of power in Russia. Indeed, arguments about the siloviki dom-
inating Russian politics were common in the early 2000s and continue to be pressed by some
(for example, Belton 2020). In their chapter on the security services, Kirill Shamiev and Bettina
5
6
Graeme Gill
Renz examine the structure and role of the security services in Russian society. Their prom-
inent place over the past two decades sharply contrasts with their profile under Boris Yeltsin
and accompanies the greater trend towards authoritarianism noted above. But for Shamiev and
Renz, this should not be attributed to the presence of former security service personnel in pol-
itical life; rather, they argue that that presence is a function of the autocratic drive emanating
from the president. Similarly, the military, the focus of the chapter by Jennifer Mathers, has a
higher profile, a product both of higher budgetary allocations and the increasingly uncertain
and hostile international environment over the past decade. However, as Mathers shows, the
effectiveness of the massive investment in upgrading the military under Putin may be called into
question by the performance of the Russian military in the Ukraine invasion.
Thus in the political arena, there has been a shift in a more centralist, authoritarian dir-
ection. This has not been uncontested, and it has not been uniform, but it has occurred. It
would, however, be wrong to accept the argument often heard in official Western circles that
Putin was about re-creating the USSR. Despite his well-known lament about the collapse of
the USSR, he has not been trying to bring it back into existence. And despite widespread nos-
talgia for the Soviet era, strikingly more common among those who did not live under it than
those who did, there does not appear to be a largescale movement to restore the USSR. The
current system differs in numerous ways from its Soviet predecessor. United Russia possesses
neither the unity nor the means to be a ruling party like the Communist Party was. Elections
are contested (but neither free nor fair), unlike the single candidate polls of the USSR. While
there are large sections of the economy controlled by state and quasi-state entities, much
of the economy operates on market principles and is integrated into the world economy, unlike
the autarchic nature of its Soviet predecessor. Unlike the wholly-run Soviet state media, there
has been a small non-state press, even if the larger media outlets tend to be run by the state or
individuals closely allied to the president. Despite the flourishing of nationalist and patriotic
memes, there is no contemporary equivalent of a formal ideology like Marxism–Leninism.
Censorship seems to be much more in the form of self-censorship by journalists rather than a
central censorship apparatus, and generally there is greater popular freedom than there was in
the USSR. Protest occurs on a regular scale despite the best attempts of the state to suppress it,
attempts that have been heightened in the wake of the Ukraine invasion. In all of these ways,
domestically Russia is a long way from being the USSR. Internationally some in the West
have declared that things like the seizure of Crimea and intervention in Ukraine, the sending
of peace-keepers to Kazakhstan and the generally assertive attitude taken towards the West
under Putin are all reminiscent of the USSR. But we need to recognise that Russia inherited
the geo-political space in international politics occupied by the USSR. That means that Russia
inherited many of the national interests of the USSR: any Russian state would want a benign
international neighbourhood on its borders, and given that its relationship with many of those
border regions pre-dates the USSR (in some areas by centuries), to see Russian foreign policy
as driven by explicitly Soviet concerns is to misunderstand the historical and geo-political
legacy Russia has inherited. While there are bound to be similarities between contemporary
Russia and its Soviet predecessor –after all, seventy years of history cannot be wiped away in
a few decades –to see these as determinative would be to downplay the extent of the changes
that have taken place since 1991.
Part 3 of the Handbook focuses upon Russian political economy. The structuring of the
political economy has been crucial to arguments about the centralisation of power in Russia.
Neil Robinson charts the shift from a hybrid political economy in the 1990s –both market cap-
italism and state capitalism, reflecting the nature principally of the privatisation process during
that decade –to patrimonial capitalism under Putin. Here the main parts of the economy are
6
7
Introduction
controlled by people beholden to the president. Thus unlike under Yeltsin, the oligarchs are
not autonomous from the country’s leader, and they are often called upon to devote their eco-
nomic power to the state’s, or some would say president’s –and here is where the kleptocracy
argument comes in (for example, Dawisha 2014) –interests. These oligarchs are the main focus
of the chapter by Gulnaz Sharafutdinova. She emphasises the way in which crony capitalism is
better seen less in terms of the actions of individual agents and more of structural factors under-
pinning the course of economic development. An important aspect of this is the international
and the way in which the embedding of the Russian economy in the global economy created
conditions that facilitated the growth of crony capitalism. If Robinson gives us essentially the
systemic view and Sharafutdinova a structural one, Peter Rutland provides a view from a third
perspective, that of the corporation. He highlights the close personal connections between
major corporations and political power, personified by Putin and those around him, and shows
how this has affected the nature of Russian political economy. An important aspect of this
has been the imposition of sanctions by the West following the seizure of Crimea in 2014.
It is those sanctions and their overall impact on the Russian economy that is the focus of the
chapter by Steven Rosefielde. He concludes that the effects of the sanctions are, alone, unlikely
to bring about much change in Russia’s behaviour, in part because in one way or another the
country has been under sanction for most of the twentieth century and because the costs of the
sanctions are believed by the Russian leaders to be less than what it would cost to act as those
imposing the sanctions demand. Furthermore, sanctions may actually increase popular support
for the regime by fuelling the victim narrative that has become part of the Russian message to
the world. Thus the economy is highly politicised and can be seen to contribute to the political
centralisation evident in those areas discussed above.
Part 4 is focused on the society. In the first chapter in this part, Leslie Root studies demo-
graphic trends in Russia. The increase in life expectancy compared with the Soviet period was
welcome, but, as her analysis shows, that expectancy then dropped with the COVID pandemic,
and there is still a long way to go to achieve parity with similar states elsewhere. While sig-
nificant progress has been made with regard to major lifestyle factors impacting poor health,
such as smoking and drinking, below-replacement fertility levels have led to a reliance upon
immigration for population growth. The perception by the government that such fertility
levels are a problem has led to pro-natalist policies, including restrictions on contraceptives and
abortion. Svetlana Mareeva analyses inequality in Russian society. She argues that in Russia
income inequality is high compared with European norms but lower than in the other BRICS
countries and Latin America. However, she also points to the extreme concentration of wealth
among the top 1 percent and the growing gap between that top and the bulk of the population
and shows how the general populace looks to the government to reduce such inequalities. This
popular attitude may reflect the continued salience of Soviet-era cultural assumptions about
economic equality and the role of the state.
Two key dimensions of inequality are class and gender. Stephen Crowley concentrates on
labour and how it has fared under the rollercoaster of economic performance. It was the indus-
trial workers (as both producers and consumers) that bore the brunt of the much-heralded
transition from a state-dominated economy to market capitalism, and it is this group that con-
tinues to struggle under the impact of general economic stagnation. This has led to some
mobilisation of protest activity, but it does not appear to have shifted worker support away from
Vladimir Putin to any significant extent. Sarah Ashwin focuses upon the situation of women,
highlighting the fact that they still suffer under the twin burdens of economic inequality (con-
centration in lower paid jobs), the higher domestic burden, and the continuing hegemony of
“the male as breadwinner” mythology. It is the fracturing of this myth that is crucial to the
7
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Graeme Gill
8
9
Introduction
actions, and the absence of pressure from the state, which must guarantee space for that society
to function. Over the past two decades, civil society has come increasingly under pressure from
the state, particularly in terms of the closure of bodies deemed to be “foreign agents” because
of their receipt of funds from abroad and the suppression of protest. Pressure on public activity
discourages further such activity. But as Gilbert shows, the regime has not only sought to hinder
the sorts of civil society groups it considers unacceptable, but it has positively encouraged some
it sees as useful to it. The danger this poses to both the public sphere and democratic aspirations
is clear.
Historically in Russia much activity undertaken by citizens has been discussed in terms
of informality, the subject of the chapter by Alena Ledeneva. Informal interactions underpin
society everywhere, but in Russia they seem to have been both more extensive and more
essential to survival than in many other places. The importance of such activity is not only in
the meeting of many personal needs, but that in many ways it can reinforce the position and
functioning of the formal system. Informality is thus intrinsic to the system and fundamental for
it to continue functioning. Also important is corruption and organised crime, which overlap
with the sorts of activity analysed by Ledeneva. Leslie Holmes examines these two phenomena.
It is clear from his chapter that what unites corruption and organised crime is the state, and that
until decisive action is taken by the state to cleanse itself of corruption, this will remain a major
feature of Russia and a drag on its development. However, he sees little prospect of this while
Putin remains in power.
The pressure placed on civil society has been part of the strengthening of the trend towards
central control, and this has in turn been justified in part by reference to Russia’s glorious his-
toric past reflected in the discussions of memory. This emphasis upon great Russian statehood,
particularly evident over the last two decades, rests on a resurgence of Russian nationalism,
analysed here by Jules Sergei Fediunin. While there can be numerous strands of Russian
nationalism, the harnessing of an emergent national myth to the centralisation of power and
control in the state (as well as in the person of the president) is an important element of the
Putin era. The regime has been able to link Russian nationalism with conservative and anti-
Western sentiments, co-opting some elements of the nationalist movement while suppressing
others. The mobilisation of Russian nationalism in this way fed into the justifications given
for the Ukraine invasion. It also has implications for ethnic relations in the country, which
is the subject of the chapter by Helge Blakkisrud. He shows how the political centralisation
pursued under Putin has also been evident in the organisation of ethnic relations, and how this
“resistance to ‘excessive’ diversity” has done little to resolve the basic tensions that exist in this
field. The mobilisation of Russian nationalism has been strongly supported by the Orthodox
Church and has in turn served to strengthen the place of that institution in Russian society.
The role of religion generally, and not just Orthodoxy, is discussed in the chapter by Thomas
Bremer.
Part 5 looks at foreign policy. In two overview chapters, Roger Kanet and Graeme Herd
survey the Russian outlook with regard to, respectively, foreign policy and security issues.
Kanet’s focus is on the way in which Russia is challenging the existing world order, a focus
that inevitably turns its main attention to the relationship with the US and NATO. This is also
a major concern of Herd’s chapter. The security architecture in Europe largely dates from the
Cold War, and it could be argued that the piecemeal amendments made to that architecture
have contributed to what Russian leaders see as a significant security challenge in what they
believe to be their own backyard. This perceived security challenge stemming from NATO is
seen by many as being a factor in the 2022 invasion of Ukraine, which is in many ways the core
of that backyard.
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Graeme Gill
Four chapters follow looking at that backyard. Dmitri Trenin analyses the fraught relationship
between Russia and Ukraine. With the latter seen by many as part of the Russia–EU/NATO
borderland, geo-political considerations are primary in the bilateral relationship. The “Maidan
revolution” followed by Russia’s seizure of Crimea and support for secessionist rebels in the
east of Ukraine brought that bilateral relationship to crisis point. However, as Trenin argues,
the continuing Ukraine crisis is really a manifestation of a larger argument over the European
security architecture and Russian objections to the expansion of NATO to the borders of the
Russian Federation. The crisis and how it has unfolded is, in Trenin’s view, part of the larger
pattern of Russia shedding its immediate post-Soviet liberal and globalist sentiments in favour
of a more traditional and nationally oriented identity of itself as a sui generis power in a competi-
tive world. It is difficult to see how this will develop in a world in which the environment has
become increasingly hostile for Russia as a direct result of its invasion of Ukraine. Meanwhile
the outbreak of widespread protests in 2020–1 against the regime of Aleksandr Lukashenka in
Belarus created another headache for the Russian leaders. While the post-Soviet relationship
with Belarus, discussed by Rasmus Nilsson, has generally been amicable, more recently tensions
have been evident. Belarus has taken on extra importance for the Russian leaders in the con-
text of the recent protests: while Moscow clearly does not want the protests to succeed, and
thereby hand another victory to the despised (in the Kremlin) notion of “colour revolution”,
the protests do demonstrate how out of step with much Belarusian opinion the regime is. The
potential costs of continuing to support that regime unchanged are significant, but it is not
clear how Moscow can engineer the sort of leadership change that might make Belarus a more
effective ally, especially in the wake of the Ukrainian intervention.
In Central Asia, the subject of the chapter by Kirill Nourzhanov, Russia is engaged in an
unspoken struggle for influence with China. Despite the civil war in Tajikistan in the first
half of the 1990s and a domestic insurgency in 2010–12, the “Tulip revolution” in Kyrgyzstan
in 2005, and the unrest in Kazakhstan in 2022, this region has not been a disruptive factor
in Russian foreign policy. Russia has sought to tie these countries to it through a range of
multilateral organisations, such as the Collective Security Treaty Organisation (CSTO) and
the Eurasian Economic Union (EEU). In the Caucasus region, the focus of Lilia Arakelyan’s
chapter, things are more difficult. The consequences of the 2008 war with Georgia continue
to linger and make that relationship difficult, while the continuing stand-off (including mili-
tary conflict) between Armenia and Azerbaijan challenges Russia’s role in the region, although
this does of course provide an opening for Russia to seek to exert its authority as the regional
hegemon. And of course, especially in the 1990s, all of this was overshadowed by the conflict in
Chechnya, and thereby within the Russian Federation itself, and by the fear of Islamic militancy
infecting the region from the south.
The key concern of Russian foreign policy has been the US and Europe, the subjects of
chapters by, respectively, Angela Stent and Andrey Kortunov. The relationship with the US
has become much more antagonistic since Putin returned to power in 2012, and more antag-
onistic again following the Ukraine invasion. Russian grievances over perceived betrayals of
undertakings given regarding the expansion of NATO to the east and believed Western involve-
ment in attempted regime change in the countries on Russia’s borders as well as in Russia itself
(see US ambassador Michael McFaul’s remark that he saw one of his tasks in Russia being to
promote democratisation; McFaul 2018) hardened Moscow’s attitude to the US. What was
perceived as a Russian “hybrid war” against the West, including claims of interference in the
US elections and the Brexit debate in the UK, and the intervention in Ukraine hardened the
American position, making for an unstable Russia–US relationship. Fundamentally, in Stent’s
view, this rests on a basis of different values and different world views, including a different
10
11
Introduction
understanding of the meaning of sovereignty, and while these continue it will be difficult to
structure the relationship in anything but a competitive fashion. In Europe, different members
of the EU have a different approach to Russia, which means that although the organisation
generally lines up with the US and NATO in its attitude to Russia, national nuances can be
important. The pre-2022 differences over the Nord Stream gas pipeline reflect the differentiated
approach characteristic of the relationship with Europe, although the strong European reaction
to the invasion of Ukraine has seen most of those differences submerged into a united front.
And as Andrey Kortunov points out, the period from 2014 to 2022 has seen a process of “stra-
tegic transition” leading to the confrontation that occurred with the onset of the Ukrainian
invasion. Finally, Natasha Kuhrt discusses the relationship with China, which many have seen
as being used by Russia as a sort of balancer against its deteriorating relationship with the
West. However, as she notes, while there are real shared interests, fundamental differences exist
between Russia and China in terms both of domestic priorities and international perceptions,
and these may complicate the development of the long-term relationship.
The developments noted above –political centralisation and the authoritarian trajectory
of the regime, the social pressures, and the hostile international environment –all add up to
a future period of some uncertainty. Under such conditions, the views of the experts in this
Handbook should be most welcome.
References
Belton, C. (2020), Putin’s People. How the KGB Took Back Russia and Then Took on the West (London: William
Collins).
Dawisha, K. (2014), Putin’s Kleptocracy. Who Owns Russia? (New York: Simon & Schuster).
Fish, M.S. (2005), Democracy Derailed in Russia. The Failure of Open Politics (New York: Cambridge
University Press).
Gill, G. (2021), Bridling Dictators. Rules and Authoritarian Politics (Oxford: Oxford University Press).
Hale, H.E. (2015), Patronal Politics. Eurasian Regime Dynamics in Comparative Perspective (New York: Cambridge
University Press).
McFaul, M. (2018), From Cold War to Hot Peace. An American Ambassador in Putin’s Russia (Boston:
Houghton Mifflin Harcourt).
Robinson, N. (2002), Russia. A State of Uncertainty (London: Routledge).
Tsygankov, A. (2014), The Strong State in Russia. Development and Crisis (New York: Oxford University
Press).
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2
THE YELTSIN ERA
Graeme Gill
The Yeltsin era of post-Soviet politics opened with the government facing two major structural
tasks: the construction of a new political system to replace the single-party communist system
and the building of a new economy based on free-market principles to replace the command
economy of the Soviet era (on the “simultaneous transition”, see Treisman 2011). These two
tasks had to be accomplished without any clear plan for their achievement and in circumstances
that did not favour such large-scale political and economic engineering, including real questions
over the viability of the multi-national Russian state (for some general complexities, see Elster
et al 1998). Politically it soon became clear that there was no consensus among elites about
either the shape of the new polity or how it could be achieved. Central elites were divided over
both policy and process, while many regional elites were intent on maximising their power at
the expense of the centre. Economically the crisis that had beset the country in the last years of
Soviet power was exacerbated by the initial reform measures, resulting in a depression deeper
and more sustained than had occurred in the West during the 1930s. It is the great achievement
of Boris Yeltsin that, by the end of his presidency, the basis had been laid for a stable political
system and an economy based partly on market principles. However, the cost of both of these
achievements was immense.
Political reform
Yeltsin’s avowed political aim was the creation of a democratic system, but the political archi-
tecture he confronted remained rooted in the Soviet past. The legislature had been elected in
1990, and although this election had been relatively free, representatives of the old regime in
the form of the Communist Party retained a significant place in it. Alternative parties were not
well developed, and political life within the legislature remained fluid and somewhat unpredict-
able. Yeltsin had been popularly elected president in June 1991 and possessed a popular mandate
more recent than that of the legislature, but he had no presidential party upon which his power
could rest and no political machine to project his will either in the legislature or in the country
at large. There was a constituency in the legislature that constituted a possible source of support
for Yeltsin, but such support was not something he could take for granted. The communists,
both inside and outside the legislature, were openly hostile to the president and what he sought
to do, with the result that throughout the decade there was continuing conflict at varying levels
12 DOI: 10.4324/9781003218234-3
13
of intensity in the national political arena. In addition, many regional leaders sought to use the
loosening of central control associated with the fall of the USSR to strengthen their positions
and extract even more concessions from the centre. The continuing political uncertainty took
place against a background of an under-developed civil society increasingly characterised by
growing popular apathy as the levels of involvement in politics that had grown in the last years
of Soviet power ebbed in the face of economic difficulty. The weakness of civil society, reflected
in the under-developed nature of both political parties and civic organisations, meant that pol-
itical conflict was confined overwhelmingly to elite circles. This had significant implications for
the hoped-for development of democracy (for an excellent narrative, see Gel’man 2015: ch.3).
Elite political conflict escalated from the end of 1991, when the Soviet Union was dissolved,
to a peak in September–October 1993, and then became more stable in the new political system
ushered in by the December 1993 elections and the new Constitution. The roots of this conflict
lay in the combination of differences over economic policy, personal antagonisms, institutional
ambition, and deep hostility between Yeltsin and many of the communists. A central plank
was also disagreement over what sort of political system Russia should have. The communists,
along with many others in the legislature, favoured a parliamentary democratic republic, while
Yeltsin wanted a presidential democratic republic in which the president was more powerful
than the legislature. While the conflict went through a number of stages (Sheinis 2005; Gill and
Markwick 2000: ch.4), with at various times both sides seeming to offer compromises which
were then either rejected or reneged upon, it reached its apogee in autumn 1993 when Yeltsin
launched a military assault on the legislature and arrested his parliamentary opponents. While
this victory was only temporary, in the sense that the communists returned two years later to
be a major political force, it was enough for Yeltsin to be able to impose a new set of polit-
ical arrangements on Russia. The December 1993 election resulted in a new legislature with
a much weaker communist presence than there had been before, while a simultaneous refer-
endum imposed a new Constitution that was written in Yeltsin’s office. The new constitutional
structure involved a system in which the presidency was the predominant institution (although
the lower house, the State Duma, is not as weak as many commentators have suggested), and
thereby consolidated Yeltsin’s position as the most important political figure in the land.
The means of Yeltsin’s victory –the use of military force against the opposition –seemed to
augur badly for future democratic stability. It seemed to validate force as an acceptable means
of resolving political disputes, thereby providing a potential precedent for political actors in the
future. However, with the exception of Chechnya (see below), events did not turn out that
way. For the remainder of the Yeltsin era, political conflict remained largely within the bounds
of the 1993 constitutional structure. There was neither widespread popular mobilisation in
the streets, except during election campaigns and then it was peaceful, nor the resort to arms.
It is as though the armed conflict of 1993 caused political elites to confront the possibility of
civil strife, see the dangers, and draw back. This does not mean that the expanding ranks of
Yeltsin’s opponents ceased to oppose, but that they generally conducted that opposition through
constitutionally validated channels. There were three principal such channels. First, election
campaigns. There were elections to the State Duma in 1995 and 1999 and to the presidency
in 1996 (Hutcheson 2018), and during these Yeltsin’s record came under withering criticism.
Not only those on the left but many in the centre and on the right were vigorous in their criti-
cism of him and his policies. The elections were adjudged to be generally free but not fair (on
fraud generally, see Myagkov et al 2009), and they were characterised by open debate and often
fierce criticism. Second, the parliament. Yeltsin and his government were often given a rough
ride in the Duma where his supporters were never in a majority: attempts were made in the
Duma to impeach the president, on some occasions his nomination of a new prime minister
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Graeme Gill
was frustrated in that assembly, and the difficulty Yeltsin faced in getting legislation through the
Duma is reflected in the large number of measures introduced via presidential decree. Third,
the media. Media freedom was extensive during the 1990s, with many outlets either critical
or actually opposed to the president. While civil society was under-developed, the media was
free to publish or broadcast whatever it liked, with the result being a no-holds-barred approach
in which Yeltsin was often the target of both ridicule and criticism. In sum, although the new
political system had been ushered into existence through violent means, that system did settle
down to a tolerable level of regularity of operation which, in October 1993, had seemed highly
unlikely. But this does not mean the system was without problems.
Throughout his presidency, Yeltsin refused to join a political party, including those “parties
of power” established to support the government: Russia’s Choice and Our Home is Russia.
While this may have achieved his stated aim of remaining above party politics, in the con-
flictual atmosphere of the 1990s it did not make him appear as a non-partisan figure. Instead, it
suggested that parties were not major actors in the political system and that the most powerful
political actor had no need of association with them. Their development was not thereby
given the boost that the president’s involvement might have been expected to provide. Given
the difficult conditions confronting parties, the failure to promote party development by the
president contributed to their continued weakness. It is not that parties did not emerge; 13
competed in the 1993 election and 43 in 1995. But no stable party system developed. Only
the Communist Party of the Russian Federation (and to a lesser extent the Liberal Democratic
Party of Russia in one form or another and Yabloko) was able to maintain representation in the
Duma throughout the decade, with many other parties enjoying only a very limited lifespan
(Rose 2000; Hale 2006). The parties that did emerge were mainly weak and ephemeral, with
no stable patterns of party activity emerging.
The parliament that emerged from the 1993 Constitution remained in the president’s
shadow, but, as noted above, it was by no means a body that simply did his bidding. Given the
strong communist presence in the Duma throughout the decade and the failure of the presi-
dent to build effective bridges to much of the rest of the assembly, the parliament was generally
hostile to the president. The chief powers that the legislature had was approval of the budget,
adoption of legislation, and ratification of the president’s choice of prime minister. In these
three areas, Yeltsin often had to contend with opposition and delay from the State Duma. The
antagonistic relationship between president and parliament injected an element of continuing
instability into political life throughout this period, and although sometimes the level of conflict
escalated, at no time did it approach that of 1993.
This relationship was seriously affected by Yeltsin’s idiosyncratic and inconsistent patterns of
action. Yeltsin successfully built up a Presidential Administration through which he could both
centralise power and exercise it independently of the other elements of the political system.
This became a very powerful institution outside the political control of other actors and answer-
able only to the president. Its position as the chief source of advice for the president was rivalled
only from the mid-1990s by an informal kitchen cabinet comprising Yeltsin’s daughter Tatyana
Dyachenko and a number of leading businessmen (the so-called “family”). This kitchen cab-
inet seems to have exercised significant power during the second half of the decade, especially
when Yeltsin was incapacitated through illness. Such periods of illness, along with those due
to his excessive drinking, left a vacuum at the top that political actors sought to exploit and
which gave to politics a certain ambiguity and unpredictability (Korzhakov 1997; Andriyanov
and Chernyak 1999).
There was also a degree of ambiguity in the emergent federal sphere (Ross 2002). With
the break-up of the USSR, some of the regions of Russia sought enhanced local autonomy,
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15
which involved the weakening of their ties with the centre. Yeltsin responded in two ways.
First, by reaching agreements with regional leaders that sought to systematise the relationship,
chiefly through the mechanism of bilateral treaties. The problem was that the powers accorded
to the various regions differed, often substantially, thereby creating a situation of asymmetrical
federalism. The result was a lack of consistency between laws throughout the country, with in
many instances local laws contradicting national legislation and the centre’s writ problematic in
some regions. While this created a messy and disjointed federal system, at least it was achieved
peacefully. Yeltsin’s second response to the attempt to loosen central ties was the use of force in
Chechnya (Dunlop 1998; Lieven 1998; Politkovskaya 2003).
Throughout the early 1990s, the government in the Republic of Chechnya had sought
greater independence from Moscow, but unlike other regions such as Tatarstan, which had
been willing to enter into negotiations with the federal authorities, the Chechen leadership
of Dzhokar Dudaev was unwilling to enter into meaningful negotiations. Nor was the Yeltsin
leadership eager for such talks. In December 1994, no longer willing to tolerate Dudaev’s inde-
pendence aspirations, Yeltsin sent Russian troops into Chechnya to remove the government and
establish central control. A bitter, bloody, and cruel conflict ensued until mid-1996. It brought
about the destruction of the Chechen capital Grozny, the torture and killing of large numbers
of soldiers and civilians, and the effective military defeat of the federal forces. A temporary
compromise was worked out leaving the Chechen authorities in charge, although this broke
down in 1999 when Prime Minister Vladimir Putin sent the troops back in following bomb
attacks in a number of Russian cities (on the bomb attacks, see Dunlop 2012). Under Yeltsin’s
presidency the Chechen question was by no means resolved, but the use of force may have
acted as a disincentive to other regional leaders contemplating pursuing similar goals.
The failure of the Russian military in Chechnya reflected a further aspect of political life
under Yeltsin: the relative weakness of the state. This was not only a question of the weak
institutionalisation of leading political institutions, but also the limited reach of the state into
society more broadly. In part a function of political choice (to limit the state compared with the
overweening power possessed by the Soviet state) and in part of institutional atrophy, the limits
of the state’s capacity were reflected in its inability to carry out basic functions within society.
The collapse of the social welfare net, the inability to collect taxes, the sharp increase in crime
and corruption in the face of the erosion of law enforcement capacity, and the obvious signs
of decay in the military and its discipline were all evidence of the reduced capacity of the state.
The complete collapse of the Russian state was seen by some as a realistic possibility.
These institutional problems were accompanied by an ambiguity in the way in which demo-
cratic principles and processes were embedded in the political system. Elections were held
broadly on schedule (and in this Yeltsin had rejected the urgings of some advisors to postpone
the 1996 presidential election), and while they were generally classed as free, they were cer-
tainly not fair. Development of the party system was hindered by Yeltsin’s dismissive attitude
to parties and by the creation of a “party of power” that enjoyed advantages over those parties
not thus linked with the Kremlin. The growth of inequality and the growth of informal access
to power on the part of a few rich businessmen (the so-called “oligarchs”) undercut basic
principles of democratic governance. And little attempt was made to assist the growth and
development of civil society. The Yeltsin administration did little consciously to invest demo-
cratic principles with normative authority. But what Yeltsin did do was to erect a new political
system with a constitutional basis that formally rested on democratic principles, and on many
occasions he acted in accord with those constitutional principles. In this way the outlines of
the new system were able to develop and grow and to gain some normative authority, even if
in particular instances their spirit may have been abused. The result was a political system that
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Graeme Gill
was formally animated by broad democratic principles but deficient in some aspects of their
realisation. But after the violent catharsis of 1993, the system generally functioned peacefully.
The record of political achievement was clearly not one of unmitigated success. A similar
judgement applies to the economic system that emerged under Yeltsin.
Economic reform
Yeltsin’s avowed aim in the economic sphere was the creation of a market capitalist society,
although he did not usually use the term “capitalist” to describe it. There had been considerable
debate in the last year of the USSR about the best means of moving to a market economy, and
Yeltsin became persuaded of the merits of the so-called “big-bang” strategy. This involved the
introduction of major reforms on a very short time scale, a strategy which, unlike its opposite
of the gradual introduction of reforms, was reputed to bring about a short, sharp shock to the
economy, which would collapse but would then quickly rise again in a new form. The theory
was that the pain would be severe but it would be short-lived and bring rapid economic success
because all one had to do was to clear the way for natural market forces to grow and take over
from the dead hand of the state. Not only were many of the assumptions that underlay this
process naive, but they also underestimated the importance of institutions for the development
of an effective market system. Yeltsin was attracted to this strategy not only by its presumed
economic benefits, but by what he saw as its political advantage: it would lead to the rapid
destruction of the power of the large state bureaucracies that were, in his view, reservoirs both
of opposition to change and of communist support.
There were four main elements of the big bang strategy: price liberalisation, macro-
economic stabilisation, privatisation, and internationalisation (Åslund 2002, 2007). The strategy
was implemented immediately, with the 2 January 1992 lifting of price controls, with imme-
diate effects. People’s savings disappeared as inflation rocketed up, large sections of the popu-
lation fell into poverty, attempts to stabilise the ruble faltered, and the economy entered a
period of depression from which it only emerged following the 1998 economic crisis. But
the main aim was achieved: prices were no longer set by the state. Privatisation, conducted
principally through a voucher scheme designed to give workers a share in ownership of pro-
ductive enterprises, was instituted, and by the end of the decade most of the economy had been
passed into non-government hands, although here too there were some less satisfactory results
discussed below. Attempts were made at macro-economic stabilisation, but owing in part to
the early opposition of the Central Bank, success here was mixed. The result was similar with
regard to internationalisation, in that foreign investors did come into the economy, but their
experience was often both unhappy and limited. Nevertheless the economic reform measures
introduced by Yeltsin, even if they were not introduced in full, did bring about the emergence
of an economy that rested partly on market principles. But this apparent success also had sig-
nificant costs.
A major cost was the sharp contraction of the economy with the associated hardships noted
above. Instead of seeing the liberalisation of prices as an incentive for increasing production
and sale of goods, many factory owners and managers saw this as an increased opportunity to
rent-seek, with the result that production plummeted and prices rose. The general impover-
ishment not only degraded people’s lifestyles and placed many in situations of severe hardship,
but it also destroyed the domestic market for goods. Although official unemployment did not
reach the levels feared, under-employment was rife. The failure rate of new firms was high, and
competition from foreign companies made it difficult for many Russian concerns to operate
profitably. The depression was ended only by a combination of the 1998 crisis, which priced
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17
many foreign goods out of the market and thereby opened up space for Russian companies,
and high international prices for Russian natural resources, mainly oil and gas (Reddaway and
Glinski 2001; Goldman 2003).
Privatisation proved to be a double-edged sword. While it destroyed much of the control
the state had exercised in the economy, at least in the initial stages as noted above it did not
lead to a vigorous private-market sector of production. As well as the rent-seeking noted above,
some initial owners used their new-found control to asset strip their companies rather than to
build them up. None of the new owners had any experience of operating in anything like a
free-market economy, especially one like the Russian where criminal activity rose significantly,
and many were unable to survive in these new conditions. Few had the capital to invest in their
enterprises and credit remained elusive. But some did very well out of privatisation, significantly
enhancing their wealth, and while in economic terms some may have seen this as a positive,
politically it was a mixed blessing. Many of those “new Russians” (Schimpfössl 2018) generated
widespread popular antagonism, not only at their wealth and the way they flaunted it, but at
the way it was acquired. This wealth was widely seen as having been gained at the expense
of the common weal. If in the Soviet period all productive capacity was formally owned by
the people, the privatisation of this effectively amounted to the transfer of public resources
into private hands with minimal compensation. This sort of outcome was virtually inevitable
given the political opposition to foreign ownership plus the absence of domestic sources of
capital outside the state. Accordingly, those with privileged access to the resources of the old
Soviet system were well placed to take advantage of the opportunities that arose with the shift
towards a market economy, including many factory managers who were able to gain control of
the vouchers allotted to their workers and use them to take over the enterprise. Privatisation
by “insiders” was both the perception and the reality. This was strengthened by the “loans for
shares” scheme of 1995–6, which enabled some wealthy and well-connected businessmen to
gain control of blue chip state assets at knock-down prices because of an agreement with the
Yeltsin administration (on the oligarchs, see Hoffman 2002; Klebnikov 2000). Not only did this
discredit the privatisation programme as a whole, but because of the close and continuing links
between these people (the so-called “oligarchs”; some were members of the aforementioned
“family”) and the Yeltsin administration, it helped to discredit the latter also.
Another effect of the economic reforms was that they fed into and exacerbated the political
conflicts among the elites. The continuing stand-off between Yeltsin on the one hand and the
communists on the other was driven in part by differences over economic policy. Similarly,
the tensions that existed within the government at various times and the prominence achieved
by extremist, principally nationalist, elements during this decade were all related to economic
policy and its effects. It is probable that the increasing levels of popular alienation from politics
that became evident during the 1990s were also a function, at least in part, of the hardship
resulting from the economic reforms. So although Yeltsin’s economic reforms brought about
the transformation of the economy, they also had serious negative consequences in the short to
medium term. They were also linked to criminal activity.
Society
One of the features of contemporary Russia to which many pointed during the 1990s was the
high levels of crime. Reports of violent criminal activity were common in the media, while the
new more open conditions in the economy allied to the decay of means of law enforcement
created new room for such activity to flourish. While some of this was a function of increased
reporting, that such activity was a major factor in Russian society is undeniable. The sense
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Graeme Gill
of insecurity on the streets was much higher than it had been in Soviet times, while criminal
activity in the economy affected not only consumers but the newly emerging business class
(and foreigners seeking involvement in the economy) as the struggle for property and wealth,
especially in the middle of the decade, became increasingly vigorous and violent. One feature of
the rise of crime was the prominence gained by criminal gangs. Many of these had their origins
in the Soviet-era labour camps and some had an ethnic basis, but what they all did was to take
advantage of this combination of a freer environment and weaker policing capacity. Many of
these gangs engaged in protection rackets and they played a part in the struggle over property;
for many businessmen they were the only reliable source of the enforcement of contracts and
the protection of business interests. In this sense, some criminal activity shaded into legitimate
business activity, giving the involved criminal gangs an aura of legitimacy (on the struggle for
property, see Barnes 2006; Volkov 2002; Varese 2001).
Linked with such criminal activity was the widespread nature of corruption. The bribery of
officials was said to be common, particularly early in the decade, as many argued that the only
way to get things done by an official was to pay a bribe. While it is not clear how high such
corruption went in the state administration –there were claims that it involved Yeltsin and his
family –at middle and lower levels it was rife. Receipt of licences and permits, minimisation
of official health and safety checks on commercial premises, avoidance of traffic fines, and the
gaining of entrance to prestigious educational institutions were the sorts of things said to be
subject to the bribery of officials (Holmes 2006; Sharafutdinova 2010).
What the extent of crime and corruption did was to emphasise the continuing import-
ance in Russian society of informal contacts and practices; the use of personal contacts and
informal channels was central to the way people lived their lives (Ledeneva 2006). Unable to
rely upon formal processes and with the actions of officials seemingly subject to influence,
it was important to be able to tap into personal contacts and established informal channels
if one was to survive. But while this may have helped people to get by in the difficult eco-
nomic circumstances, it also undermined attempts to institutionalise the political and economic
systems and to strengthen the rule of law in society. Who one knew continued to be important
in the shaping of people’s life chances; those who had contacts could get by, those who did not
struggled (Humphrey 2002).
Life chances were also shaped by economics, and under Yeltsin Russian society witnessed a
polarisation as the gap between rich and poor reached obscene levels. While much of the popu-
lation struggled with poverty, reflected in increased levels of begging in the streets of Russia’s
major cities in the first part of the decade, a few enjoyed enormous wealth. Personal contacts
and corrupt practices were often at the root of such wealth. The so-called “oligarchs” were the
most obvious examples of this, but they were not alone. This group of the newly wealthy, often
referred to as “New Russians”, were ostentatious in the flaunting of their wealth and lifestyles.
Most of the populace could only dream about the extravagant lifestyles enjoyed by this group,
and they were the object of much popular derision and hostility. But protected by their high
fences and security guards and whisked from place to place in motorcades, their paths rarely
crossed those of their less fortunate fellow citizens. The gap between rich and poor was palp-
able, while the economic collapse meant that prior to the revival beginning at the end of the
decade there was little evidence of the emergence of a stable middle class that might bridge this
gap (Silverman and Yanowitch 2000).
The widespread nature of poverty fed into the continuing pathologies of Russian society.
Low birth rates and high death rates accompanied by low levels of life expectancy fuelled
continuing population decline, only partly offset by the immigration of ethnic Russians from
neighbouring countries. Alcoholism remained a major problem, while a series of diseases such
18
19
as TB, which was thought to have been eliminated, returned to ravage the population; Aids
became a major cause for concern. These major health worries were faced by a society in which
the health infrastructure had virtually collapsed, as long years of inadequate Soviet investment in
hospitals and medical services generally came home to roost. People’s personal situations were
in many cases exacerbated by the non-payment of wages on time, the threat of unemploy-
ment or under-employment, and the impossibility of buying many goods because of inflation.
Despite these hardships, levels of popular protest were low; the society seemed exhausted.
As well as these social ills, many observers also pointed to an ideological vacuum. The
collapse of communism eliminated the ideology that had dominated society for more than
seventy years as a viable set of values with wide appeal. In the resultant vacuum, religion made
a powerful reappearance, with many people affirming their religious beliefs and the Russian
Orthodox Church once again becoming prominent in society; it regained much of the prop-
erty it had lost under communism and was partially re-integrated into state rituals and sym-
bolism. While the same sort of freedom and prominence were not accorded other religions,
broad freedom of belief was restored and never seriously called into question.
Such freedom also operated outside the religious sphere. Russian society witnessed a pro-
liferation of groups espousing a wide range of views and beliefs. Important among these were
right wing and nationalist groups, ranging from the pseudo-fascism of groups such as Aleksandr
Barkashov’s Russian National Unity movement through to Aleksandr Rutskoi’s Derzhava.
Mostly small and on the fringes of the political spectrum, these nationalist groups were loud and
vociferous in the prosecution of their views but generally exercised little influence in society.
However, they did tap into the resurgent theme of Russian nationalism, something that had
been emphasised by Yeltsin in his battle with Mikhail Gorbachev and boosted by the fall of the
USSR and emergence of Russia. Loss of their Soviet identity, accompanied by the imperial
status that attached to the USSR, encouraged Russians to look to their Russianness as a new
form of identification. Yeltsin encouraged this, emphasising a civic sense of identity (Rossiiskii)
rather than the ethnic one (Russkii) favoured by Barkashov and some others seeking to use this
as a means of strengthening both support for and the legitimacy of the regime. Although this
was to become more prominent under Yeltsin’s successor, it did strike a chord in the Russian
populace during the 1990s, including in foreign policy where it coloured relations with the
former republics of the USSR and, after the middle of the decade, the West.
Conclusion
By the time Boris Yeltsin resigned as president on 31 December 1999 and passed the office
on to Vladimir Putin, the Russian system had seemingly stabilised. Politically, the institutions
established by the 1993 Constitution had functioned in a more or less regular form. However,
the aspiration for a democratic system was not fully realised. All three national elections had
been carried out in a way that severely compromised the ability of the opposition to com-
pete, the role of the “family” and the “oligarchs” gave undue power to unelected camarillas,
and there had been no integration of the populace into the political system in a meaningful
way. The vehicles for popular involvement in political life remained weak, it was not clear that
all sections of society were committed to the existing structure, or even that those who were
formally thus committed were not averse to manipulating the principles for partisan purposes,
and the state remained weak as an institution. The federal system remained dysfunctional and
Chechnya in incipient revolt. Economically, a market system of sorts had been established, even
if it operated disjointedly, was characterised by high levels of crime and corruption, and the
private basis upon which much of it rested was of dubious legal provenance. But although there
19
20
Graeme Gill
were clear problems with the system he had constructed and the costs had been significant,
Yeltsin’s achievements should not be under-estimated.
What does this mean for Yeltsin as a leader? Throughout much of his career, his approach
had appeared to be “crash through or crash”, and this remained a feature of his modus operandi
as president (on his leadership style, see Breslauer 1999, 2002; Brown and Shevtsova 2008).
He frequently ignored and overrode institutional processes and acted in an impulsive and
personalised fashion. It was not that he was not consultative, but that he seemed willing to con-
sult only with those he trusted, and this circle of people narrowed over time. He was not willing
consistently to reach out to opponents, to consult and negotiate with them and reach a con-
sensus position. A conviction politician and convinced of the correctness of the course he was
currently following, he forged ahead when those with cooler heads may have proceeded more
circumspectly. As a result, he was unable to build a consensus among political elites, remaining
overwhelmingly a divisive political figure. It is as a response to this style of leadership that much
can be understood about the following Putin era.
References
Andriyanov, V. and A. Chernyak (1999), Odinokii tsar’ v kremle (Moscow: ZAO Gazeta Pravda).
Åslund, A. (2002), Building Capitalism. The Transformation of the Former Soviet Bloc (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press).
Åslund, A. (2007), Russia’s Capitalist Revolution. Why Market Reform Succeeded and Democracy Failed
(Washington DC: Peterson Institute for International Economics).
Barnes, A. (2006), Owning Russia. The Struggle Over Factories, Farms, and Power (Ithaca: Cornell University
Press).
Breslauer, G. (1999), “Boris Yeltsin as Patriarch”, Post-Soviet Affairs 15, 2: 186–200.
Breslauer, G. (2002), Gorbachev and Yeltsin as Leaders (New York: Cambridge University Press).
Brown, A. and L. Shevtsova (eds.) (2008), Gorbachev, Yeltsin, and Putin. Political Leadership in Russia’s
Transition (Washington DC: Carnegie Endowment for International Peace).
Dunlop, J.B. (1998), Russia Confronts Chechnya. Roots of a Separatist Conflict (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press).
Dunlop, J.B. (2012), The Moscow Bombings of September 1999 (Stuttgart: ibidem).
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at Sea (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press).
Gel’man, V. (2015), Authoritarian Russia. Analyzing Post-Soviet Regime Changes (Pittsburgh: University of
Pittsburgh Press).
Gill, G. and R. Markwick (2000), Russia’s Stillborn Democracy? From Gorbachev to Yeltsin (Oxford:
Oxford University Press).
Goldman, M.I. (2003), The Piratization of Russia. Russian Reform Goes Awry (London: Routledge).
Hale, H.E. (2006), Why Not Parties in Russia? Democracy, Federalism, and the State (New York: Cambridge
University Press).
Hoffman, D. (2002), The Oligarchs. Wealth and Power in the New Russia (New York: Public Affairs).
Holmes, L. (2006), Rotten States? Corruption, Post-Communism and Neoliberalism (Durham: Duke University
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University Press).
Hutcheson, D.S. (2018), Parliamentary Elections in Russia. A Quarter- Century of Multiparty Politics
(Oxford: Oxford University Press).
Klebnikov, P. (2000), Godfather of the Kremlin. Boris Berezovsky and the Looting of Russia (New York:
Harcourt).
Korzhakov, A. (1997), Boris Yeltsin: ot rassveta do zakata (Moscow: Interbuk).
Ledeneva, A. (2006), How Russia Really Works. The Informal Practices that Shaped Post-Soviet Politics and
Business (Ithaca: Cornell University Press).
Lieven, A. (1998), Chechnya. Tombstone of Soviet Power (New Haven: Yale University Press).
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interfere with their reasonable conveniences, he adds, “they broke bread,” (a Hebraistic
form of expression for simply “taking food,”) “at home, and partook of their food in humility
and thankfulness.” This seems to me, to require a sort of opposition in sense between ἱερον,
(hieron,) “temple,” and οικος, (oikos,) “house” or “home,” for it seems as if the writer of the
Acts wished in these few words, to give a complete account of the manner in which they
occupied themselves, devoting all their time to public devotion in the temple except that, as
was most seemly, they returned to their houses to take their ♦necessary food, which they
did humbly and joyfully. But the distributive force which some wish to put upon κατ’ οἶκον, by
translating it “from house to house,” is one which does not seem to be required at all by any
thing in the connection, and one which needs a vast deal of speculation and explanation to
make it appear why they should go “from house to house,” about so simple a matter of fact
as that of eating their victuals, which every man could certainly do to best advantage at one
steady boarding-place. That the expression, κατ’ οἶκον, most commonly means “at home,” is
abundantly proved by standard common Greek usage, as shown in the best Lexicons. But
κατα, in connexion with a singular noun, has the distributive force only when the noun itself
is of such a character and connection in the sentence as to require this meaning. Thus κατα
μηνα, would hardly ever be suspected of any other meaning than “monthly,” or “every
month,” or “from month to month;”――so κατα πολεις means “from city to city,” but the
singular κατα πολιν, almost uniformly means “in a city,” without any distributive application,
except where the other words in the sentence imply this idea. (Acts xv. 21: xx. 23.) But here
the simple common meaning of the preposition κατα, when governing the accusative, (that
is, the meaning of “at” or “in” a place,) is not merely allowed, but required by the other words
in the connection, in order to give a meaning which requires no other explanation, and
which corresponds to the word “temple” in the other clause; for the whole account seems to
require an opposition in these words, as describing the two places where the disciples
passed their time.
There are great names, however, opposed to this view, which seem enough to
overpower almost any testimony that can be brought in defense of an interpretation which
they reject. Among these are Kuinoel, Rosenmueller, Ernesti, and Bloomfield, whose very
names will perhaps weigh more with many, than the hasty statement of the contrary view
which I am able here to give. Yet I am not wholly without the support of high authorities; for
De Dieu, Bengel, Heinrichs, Hammond, and Oecumenius, reject the distributive sense here.
The beautiful gate.――The learned Lightfoot has brought much deep research to bear
on this point, as to the position of this gate and the true meaning of its name; yet he is
obliged to announce the dubious result in the expressive words, “In bivio hic stamus,” (“we
here stand at a fork of the road.”) The main difficulty consists in the ambiguous character of
the word translated “beautiful,” in Greek, Ὡραιαν, (horaian,) which may have the sense of
“splendid,” “beautiful,” or, in better keeping with its root, Ὡρα, (hora,) “time,” it may be made
to mean the “gate of time.” Now, what favors the latter derivation and translation, is the fact
that there actually was, as appears from the Rabbinical writings, a gate called Hhuldah,
( )חולדהprobably derived from ( חלדhheledh) “age,” “time,” “life,”――from the Arabic root خلد
(khaladh) “endure,” “last,” so that it may mean “lasting or permanent.” There were two gates
of this name distinguished by the terms greater and smaller, both opening into the court of
the Gentiles from the great southern porch or colonnade, called the Royal colonnade.
Through these, the common way from Jerusalem and from Zion led into the temple, and
through these would be the natural entrance of the apostles into it. This great royal porch,
also, where such vast numbers were passing, and which afforded a convenient shelter from
the weather, would be a convenient place for a cripple to post himself in.
There was, however, another gate, to which the epithet “beautiful” might with eminent
justice be applied. This is thus described by Josephus. (Jewish War. book V. chapter 5,
section 3.) “Of the gates, nine were overlaid with gold and silver,――* * * but there was one
on the outside of the temple, made of Corinthian brass, which far outshone the plated and
gilded ones.” This is the gate to which the passage is commonly supposed to refer, and
which I have mentioned as the true one in the text, without feeling at all decided on the
subject, however; for I certainly do think the testimony favors the gate Huldah, and the
primary sense of the word Ὡραια seems to be best consulted by such a construction.
The porch of Solomon.――Στοα Σολομωνος, (stoa Solomonos.) This was the name
commonly applied to the great eastern colonnade of the temple, which ran along on the top
of the vast terrace which made the gigantic rampart of Mount Moriah, rising from the depth
of six hundred feet out of the valley of the Kedron. (See note on page 94.) The Greek word,
στοα, (stoa,) commonly translated “porch,” does not necessarily imply an entrance to a
building, as is generally true of our modern porches, but was a general name for a
“colonnade,” which is a much better expression for its meaning, and would always convey a
correct notion of it; for its primary and universal idea is that of a row of columns running
along the side of a building, and leaving a broad open space between them and the wall,
often so wide as to make room for a vast assemblage of people beneath the ceiling of the
architrave. That this was the case in this stoa, appears from Josephus’ description given in
my note on page 95, section 1. The stoa might be so placed as to be perfectly inaccessible
from without, and thus lose all claim to the name of porch, with the idea of an entrance-way.
This was exactly the situation and construction of Solomon’s stoa, which answers much
better to our idea of a gallery, than of a porch. (See Donnegan, sub voc.)
It took the name of Solomon, from the fact that when the great temple of that magnificent
king was burned and torn down by the Chaldeans, this eastern terrace, as originally
constructed by him, was too vast, and too deeply based, to be easily made the subject of
such a destroying visitation, and consequently was by necessity left a lasting monument of
the strength and grandeur of the temple which had stood upon it. When the second temple
was rebuilt, this vast terrace of course became again the great eastern foundation of the
sacred pile, but received important additions to itself, being strengthened by higher and
broader walls, and new accessions of mounded earth; while over its long trampled and
profaned pavement, now beautified and renewed with splendid Mosaic, rose the mighty
range of gigantic snow-white marble columns, which gave it the name and character of a
stoa or colonnade, and filled the country for a vast distance with the glory of its pure
brightness. (See note on page 95. See also Lightfoot, Disquisit. Chor. cap. vi. § 2.)
Josephus further describes it, explaining the very name which Luke uses. “And this was a
colonnade of the outer temple, standing over the verge of a deep valley, on walls four
hundred cubits in highth, built of hewn stones perfectly white,――the length of each stone
being twenty cubits, and the highth six. It was the work of Solomon, who first built the
whole temple.” (Josephus, Antiquities, XX. viii. 7.)
The guards of the temple, &c.――This was the same set of men above described, as
made up of the Levite porters and watchmen of the temple. See note on page 111. Also
Lightfoot Horae Hebraica in Acts iv. 1.――Rosenmueller, ibid. and Kuinoel. But Hammond
has made the mistake of supposing this to be a detachment of the Roman garrison.
The next morning the high court of the Jewish nation, having the
absolute control of all religious matters, was called together to
decide upon the fate of the apostles, and probably also of the lame
man whom they had cured. This great court was the same whose
members had, by unwearied exertions, succeeded a few weeks
before, in bringing about the death of Jesus, and were therefore little
disposed to show mercy to any who were trying to perpetuate his
name, or the innovations which he had attempted against the high
authority of the ecclesiastical rulers of the nation. Of these, the
principal were Annas and Caiaphas, the high priests, with John and
Alexander, and many others, who were entitled to a place in the
council, by relationship to the high priests. Besides these, there were
the rulers and elders of the people, and the scribes, who had been
so active in the condemnation of Jesus. These all having arrayed
themselves for judgment, the apostles and their poor healed cripple
were brought in before them, and sternly questioned, by what power
and by what name they had done the thing for which they had been
summoned before the court. They stood charged with having
arrogated to themselves the high character and office of teachers,
and what was worse, reformers, of the national religion,――of that
religion which had been, of old, received straight from God by the
holy prophets, and which the wisdom of long-following ages had
secured in sanctity and purity, by entrusting it to the watchful
guardianship of the most learned and venerable of a hereditary order
of priests and scholars. And who were they that now proposed to
take into their hands the religion given by Moses and the prophets,
and to offer to the people a new dispensation? Were they deep and
critical scholars in the law, the prophets, the history of the faith, or
the stored wisdom of the ancient teachers of the law? No; they were
a set of rude, ill-taught men, who had left their honest but low
employments in their miserable province, and had come down to
Jerusalem with their Master, on the likely enterprise of overturning
the established order of things in church and state, and erecting in its
place an administration which should be managed by the Nazarene
and his company of Galileans. In this seditious attempt their Master
had been arrested and punished with death, and they whose lives
were spared by the mere clemency of their offended lords, were now
so little grateful for this mercy, and so little awed by this example of
justice, that they had been publicly haranguing the people in the
temple, and imposing on them with a show of miracles, all with the
view of raising again those disturbances which their Master had
before excited, but too successfully, by the same means, until his
death. In this light would the two apostles stand before their stern
and angry judges, as soon as they were recognized as the followers
of Jesus. And how did they maintain their ground before this awful
tribunal? Peter had, only a few weeks before, absolutely denied all
connection and acquaintance with Jesus, when questioned by the
mere menials in attendance on his Master’s trial. And on this solemn
occasion, tenfold more appalling, did that once false disciple find in
his present circumstances, consolations to raise him above his
former weakness? Peter was now changed; and he stood up boldly
before his overbearing foes, to meet their tyranny by a dauntless
assertion of his rights and of the truth of what he had preached.
Freshly indued with a courage from on high, and full of that divine
influence so lately shed abroad, he and his modest yet firm
companion, replied to the haughty inquiries of his judges, by naming
as the source of their power, and as their sanction in their work, the
venerated name of their crucified Master. “Princes of the people and
elders of Israel, if we to-day are called to account for this good deed
which we have done to this poor man, and are to say in whose name
this man has been cured; be it known to you all, and to all the people
of Israel, that in the name of Jesus Christ, the Nazarene, whom you
crucified, and whom God raised from the dead, this man now stands
before you, made sound and strong. This crucified Jesus is the stone
which, though rejected by you builders, has become the chief corner
stone; and in no other name is there salvation, (or healing;) for there
is no other name given under heaven, among men, by which any
can be saved,” (or healed.) When the judges saw the free-spoken
manner of Peter and John, observing that they were unlearned men,
of the lower orders, they were surprised; and noticing them more
particularly, they recognized them as the immediate personal
followers of Jesus, remembering now that they had often seen them
in his company. This recognition made them the more desirous to
put a stop to their miracles and preaching. Yet there stood the man
with them, whom they had healed, and with this palpable evidence
before their eyes, how could the members of the Sanhedrim justify
themselves to the people, for any act of positive violence against
these men? These high dignitaries were a good deal perplexed, and
sending the apostles out of the court, they deliberated with one
another, and inquired, “What can we do with these men? For there is
a general impression that they have done a great miracle, among all
who are now in Jerusalem, both citizens and strangers, and we
cannot disprove it. Still we cannot let these things go on so, nor
suffer this heresy to spread any further among the people; and we
will therefore charge them threateningly to use the name of Jesus no
more to the people.” Having come to this conclusion, they
summoned the prisoners once more into the court, and gave them a
strict command, never to teach any more nor utter a word in the
name of Jesus. But Peter and John, undismayed by the authority of
their great judges, boldly avowed their unshaken resolution to
proceed as they had begun. “We appeal to you, to say if it is right in
the sight of God to obey you rather than God. For we cannot but
speak what we have seen and heard?” The judges being able to
bring these stubborn heretics to no terms at all, after having
threatened them still further, were obliged to let them go unpunished,
not being able to make out any plea against them, that would make it
safe to injure them, while the popular voice was so loud in their favor,
on account of the miracle. For the man whom they had so suddenly
healed, being more than forty years old, and having been lame from
his birth, no one could pretend to say that such a lameness could be
cured by any sudden impression made on his imagination.
Salvation, (or healing.)――The Greek word here in the original, Σωτηρια, (Soteria,) is
entirely dubious in its meaning, conveying one or the other of these two ideas according to
the sense of the connection; and here the general meaning of the passage is such, that
either meaning is perfectly allowable, and equally appropriate to the context. This ambiguity
in the substantive is caused by the same variety of meaning in the verb which is the root,
Σαω, (Sao,) whose primary idea admits of its application either to the act of saving from ruin
and death, or of relieving any bodily evil, that is, of healing. In this latter sense it is
frequently used in the New Testament, as in Matthew ix. 21, 22. commonly translated “made
whole.” Also, Mark v. 28, 33: vi. 56: x. 52. In Luke vii. 50, and in viii. 48, the same
expression occurs, both passages being exactly alike in Greek; but the common translation
has varied the interpretation in the two places, to suit the circumstances,――in the former,
“saved thee,” and in the latter, “made thee whole.” In this passage also, Acts iv. 12, the word
is exactly the same as that used in verse 9, where the common translation gives “made
whole.” The close connection therefore between these two verses would seem to require
the same meaning in the word thus used, and hence I should feel justified in preferring this
rendering; but the general power of the verb makes it very probable that in this second use
of it here, there was a sort of intentional equivoque in the writer and speaker, giving force to
the expression, by the play on the meaning afforded by the present peculiar circumstances.
Raised a voice.――This is literal; and can mean nothing more than the common modern
expression, “unite in prayer,” with which it is perfectly synonymous. The judicious Bloomfield
(Annotations in Acts iv. 24,) observes, “We cannot rationally suppose that this prefatory
address was (as some conjecture) not pronounced extempore, but a pre-composed form of
prayer, since the words advert to circumstances not known until that very time; as, for
instance, the threatenings of the Sanhedrim, (verse 29,) of which they had been but just
then informed; and the words ἀκουσαντες ὁμοθυμαδον ῃραν φωνην will not allow us to imagine
any interval between the report of Peter and John, and the prayer.” Kuinoel’s view is
precisely the same.
Were in the highest favor with the people.――Very different from the common
translation, “great grace was upon them all.” But the Greek word, Χαρις, (Kharis,) like the
Latin gratia, (in the Vulgate,) means primarily “favor;” and the only question is, whether it
refers to the favor of God or of man. Beza, Whitby, Doddridge, &c. prefer the former, but
Kuinoel justly argues from a comparison of the parallel passages, (ii. 47, and iv. 34,) that it
refers to their increasing influence on the attention and regard of the people, which was
indeed the great object of all their preaching and miracles. Grotius, Rosenmueller,
Bloomfield and others, also support this view.
Deposited in trust.――This is a free, but just version of ετιθουν παρα τους ποδας, (etithoun
para tous podas,) Acts iv. 35, literally and faithfully rendered in the common translation by
“laid at the feet;” but this was an expression very common not only in Hebrew, but in Greek
and Latin usage, for the idea of “deposit in trust;” as is shown by Rosenmueller’s apt
quotations from Cicero, “ante pedes praetoris in foro expensum est auri pondo centum,”
Defence of Flaccus, chapter 28; and from Heliodorus, παντα τα εαυτου τιθεναι παρα τους ποδας
βασιλεως. But Kuinoel seems not to think of these, and quotes it as a mere Hebraism.
Barnabas, son of exhortation.――This is the translation of this name, which seems best
authorized. A fuller account of it will be given in the life of Barnabas.
ananias and sapphira.
Met the church and people.――This distinction may not seem very obvious in a common
reading of the Acts, but in v. 11, it is very clearly drawn. “Great fear was upon the whole
church and on all the hearers of these things.” And throughout the chapter, a nice
discrimination is made between ὁ λαος, (ho laos,) “the people,” or “the congregation,” and ἡ
εκκλησια, (he ekklesia,) “the church.” See Kuinoel in v. 13, 14.
The shadow of Peter.――This is one of a vast number of passages which show that
high and perfectly commanding pre-eminence of this apostolic chief. The people evidently
considered Peter as concentrating all the divine and miraculous power in his own person,
and had no idea at all of obtaining benefit from anything that the minor apostles could do. In
him, alone, they saw the manifestations of divine power and authority;――he spoke and
preached and healed, and judged and doomed, while the rest had nothing to do but assent
and aid. Peter, then, was the great pastor of the church, and it is every way desirable that
over-zealous Protestants would find some better reason for opposing so palpable a fact,
than simply that Papists support it.
All the words of this life.――I here follow the common translation, though Kuinoel and
most interpreters consider this as a hypallage, and transpose it into “all these words of life.”
But it does not seem necessary to take such a liberty with the expression, since the
common version conveys a clear idea. “The words of this life” evidently can mean only the
words of that life which they had before preached, in accordance with their commission; that
is, of life from the dead, as manifested in the resurrection of Jesus, which was in itself the
pledge and promise of life and bliss eternal, to all who should hear and believe these
“words.” This view is supported by Storr, and a similar one is advanced by Rosenmueller, in
preference to any hypallage.
Gamaliel.――I shall give a full account of this venerable sage, in the beginning of the life
of Paul.
In the temple and in private houses.――Acts vi. 42. In the Greek, κατ’ οἶκον, (kat’ oikon,)
the same expression as in ii. 46, alluded to in my note on pages 139, 140. Here too occurs
precisely the same connection with ἐν τῳ ἱερῳ, (en to hiero,) with the same sense of
opposition in place, there alluded to. The indefinite sense, then, rather than the distributive,
is proper here as there, showing that they preached and taught not only in their great place
of assembly, under the eastern colonnade of the temple, (v. 12,) but also in private houses,
that is, at their home, or those of their friends. The expression “from house to house,”
however, is much less objectionable here, because in this passage it can give only an
indefinite idea of place, without any particular idea of rotation; but in the other passage, in
connection with “the taking of food,” it makes an erroneous impression of their mode of life,
which the text is meant to describe.