Early this year, Vladimir Putin had big plans for an excellent spring:  first, constitutional amendments approved by the legislative branch and public allowing him the opportunity to remain in power until 2036, followed by a huge patriotic celebration of the 75^th anniversary of the defeat of Nazi Germany.  Well, stuff happens—specifically, COVID-19.  Putin’s spring has turned out quite differently from what he had hoped.

Big Plans for the Spring

The president surprised Russians on January 15 in his annual speech to the Federal Assembly (the lower house of the Russian legislative branch).  He proposed amending the constitution to reduce the authority of the presidency, increase the power of the Federal Assembly, and provide a legal basis for a State Council.

The amendments prompted speculation that Putin, who likes to have options, sought to create ways to hold on to power after 2024, when term limits would require him to step down from the presidency.  He might become an empowered prime minister or head the State Council.

Then, on March 10, another surprise.  A Federal Assembly deputy proposed an additional amendment that would, in effect, allow Putin to run for president twice more, opening the possibility that he could remain in office until 2036.  He had consistently argued in the past against ending term limits.  However, according to the Kremlin spokesperson, Putin was so taken with the deputy’s justification that he changed his mind on the spot.

Things can move fast in Russia—especially when Putin wants them.  On March 11, the Federal Assembly approved the constitutional amendments by a vote of 383-0, and the Federal Council (Russia’s senate) gave its approval 160-1.  (Nothing like having a rubber-stamp legislative branch.)  Within two days, all 85 regional parliaments had approved the amendments.  The Constitutional Court worked over a weekend and, on March 16, unsurprisingly found the amendments consistent with the constitution.

All told, it took just six days to check the legal requirements for amending the constitution.  Putin, however, desired more.  He called in January for a nationwide referendum on April 22 to approve the package of amendments.  The constitution provides no requirement for such a vote.  Putin wanted it to further legitimize the changes to the constitution.  Popular endorsement would undercut any future challenge should he decide to run for reelection in 2024.

Topping off the spring would be the May 9 celebration of the 75^th anniversary of VE Day.  Putin has built this holiday up to rival New Year’s Day, traditionally the biggest holiday for Russians.  The celebration of World War II veterans and a large military parade on Red Square not only remind Russians of their country’s part in defeating Hitler, but they also play well to the themes of nationalism and Russia’s place as a great power on the world stage that Putin has embraced and perpetuated, particularly over the past eight years.

COVID-19 Intrudes

Alas for Putin, reality intruded.  The number of COVID-19 cases began to grow in mid-March.  As of April 21, the country reported over 52,000 cases, with more than half of those just in Moscow.  The number undoubtedly is understated—as in many countries—if for no other reason than some are asymptomatic or suffer mild symptoms.  There are also indications that local health authorities are underreporting cases.

Moscow’s mayor adopted a shelter-at-home policy, but with lots of exceptions.  While the mayor asserted that the city’s hospitals had sufficient capacity, medical staff described more difficult situations, and videos showed ambulances in line to wait hours to admit patients.  The health infrastructure outside of Moscow and other large cities is weaker, raising concern about the virus’s impact in rural areas.

Much like his American counterpart, Putin responded slowly to the mushrooming health crisis, leaving it to mayors and regional authorities to manage.  Sounding a lot like Donald Trump in February, Putin told Russians on April 19 (Orthodox Easter) “the situation is under full control.”  He has raised his public profile the past ten days, conducting videoconferences from his residence outside Moscow.  Russia, however, may be just beginning its COVID-19 trial.

As the number of cases grew in March, questions arose about the feasibility of the April 22 referendum.  Putin apparently very much desired it, and the Kremlin wanted a large turnout to bolster the referendum’s legitimacy.  Some suggested the referendum could be conducted over several days, allowing voters to space out visits to polling stations.  But the Kremlin bowed to reality and announced on March 25 that the referendum would be postponed.

Likewise, the Kremlin hoped that the May 9 commemoration could go forward, and troops began practicing for the military parade (one video showed thousands of soldiers in close formation with no masks).  However, the day’s heroes—World War II veterans now in their 90s—constitute an age-group very vulnerable to COVID-19.  Going forward with a celebration that could devastate their ranks hardly made sense.  On April 16, Putin announced a postponement.

The Economic Prognosis Looks Grim

Instead of a big public endorsement of his constitutional amendments and a patriotic gala on May 9, Putin faces a daunting challenge:  the combination of COVID-19 and an economy in trouble.  Under the virus’s impact, Russia’s already anemic economy is headed for recession.  The International Monetary Fund expects it to contract by 5.5 percent in 2020.

Complicating the economic picture for the Kremlin is continued application of Western sanctions due to Russia’s seizure of Crimea and its conflict with Ukraine in Donbas.  Economists estimate they cost Russia 1-1.5 percent of its gross domestic product.  While Russian officials downplay the effect, they miss few opportunities to ask for their removal.  For example, Putin used his intervention in the March 26 videoconference of G20 leaders to call for an end to all international sanctions.

COVID-19 has another negative impact on the Russian economy.  It has crashed global demand for oil, by far Russia’s most important export.  Perhaps not expecting the economic consequences of the virus, Russia on March 6 did not agree to an OPEC proposal to reduce production.  Igor Sechin, head of the Rosneft Oil Company and a close associate of Putin, reportedly wanted to drive the price down to push U.S. shale oil producers out of the market (their production has boosted the United States to supplant Russia and Saudi Arabia as the world’s largest oil producer).

The price dropped, more than Sechin might have anticipated.  Saudi Arabia responded to Russia’s refusal to cut production by boosting its own output and cutting the price.  On March 8, the price of oil fell 30 percent.  The resulting havoc hurt both sides.  On April 9, Russia and OPEC agreed to cut production by about 10 million barrels per day.

Whether that will suffice is uncertain.  The global economic slowdown has caused demand for oil to drop by 20-25 millions barrels per day.  On April 21, the price of a barrel of Brent oil fell below $20, a price not seen since 2002.  That was down from $74 one year earlier (the Russian government budget was designed to balance at a price of $42 per barrel).  The per barrel export duty collected by the Russian government fell to below $1, also the lowest since 2002.  Russia has to cut 2.5 million of barrels per day of production to meet its part of the April 9 agreement.  With oil storage facilities nearing capacity, there may well be further price drops before things turn around.

None of this is good news for the Russian economy, but how hard a hit it will take remains to be seen.  Thus far, the Kremlin has adopted a stimulus package to counter the COVID-19 economic consequences that is relatively modest, especially compared to programs being implemented by the United States, Germany, Britain and other industrial countries.

Managing the health crisis and its economic consequences, which could affect Putin’s approval rating—something to which the Kremlin pays extraordinarily close attention—is now the Russian president’s top preoccupation.  This is not anything like he anticipated three months ago.

Former Russian President Dmitry Medvedev, who signed the New Strategic Arms Reduction Treaty (New START) with Barack Obama on April 8, 2010, called last week for the United States to agree to extend the treaty. On Friday, a Department of State spokesperson told the Russian news agency TASS in response:  “The President has directed us to think more broadly than New START…  We stand ready to engage with both Russia and China on arms control negotiations that meet our criteria.”

Unfortunately, nothing suggests President Trump will achieve anything on nuclear arms control.

Read full article at The Hill.

In the midst of the damage to public health and the global economy, the COVID-19 crisis could present an unexpected opportunity both to resolve the only hot war in Europe and to address Russian President Vladimir Putin's assault on international norms of behavior.

As the spreading coronavirus and collapsing oil prices weigh increasingly on the Kremlin, the United States and its allies should offer to lift international sanctions against Russia if Putin will end his military incursions into Ukraine. President Trump and Congress can advance America's interests, and the world's, with a bold step to encourage an end to this war. The Trump administration and Congress should seize this opening.

Read the rest at NPR.org.

The Trump administration’s proposal for trilateral arms control negotiations appears to be gaining little traction in Moscow and Beijing, and the era of traditional nuclear arms control may be coming to an end just as new challenges emerge. This is not to say that arms control should be an end in it itself. It provides a tool that, along with the right combination of deterrence and defense forces and proper doctrine, can enhance U.S. and allied security and promote stability.

March 18 marks the sixth anniversary of Russia’s illegal annexation of Crimea.  Attention now focuses on the Russian-Ukrainian conflict in Donbas, a conflict that has taken some 14,000 lives, but Moscow’s seizure of Crimea—the biggest land-grab in Europe since World War II—has arguably done as much or more damage to Europe’s post-Cold War security order.

Ukraine lacks the leverage to restore sovereignty over Crimea, at least for the foreseeable future.  But that does not mean the West should accept it.  Doing so might only encourage the Kremlin to believe that taking the territory of other countries is an action that it can get away with.

Crimea’s Illegal Annexation

Ukraine’s Maidan Revolution ended in late February 2014, when President Victor Yanukovych fled Kyiv—later to turn up in Russia—and the Rada (Ukraine’s parliament) appointed an acting president and acting prime minister to take charge.  They made clear their intention to draw Ukraine closer to Europe by signing an association agreement with the European Union.

Almost immediately thereafter, armed men began occupying key facilities and checkpoints on the Crimean peninsula.  Clearly professional soldiers by the way they handled themselves and their weapons, they wore Russian combat fatigues but with no identifying insignia.  Ukrainians called them “little green men.”  President Vladimir Putin at first flatly denied these were Russian soldiers, only to later admit that they were and award commendations to their commanders.

The sizeable Ukrainian military presence in Crimea stayed in garrison.  If shooting began, Kyiv wanted the world to see the Russians fire first.  Ukraine’s Western partners urged Kyiv not to take precipitate action.  Since many enlisted personnel in the Ukrainian ranks came from Crimea, Ukrainian commanders probably had less than full confidence in the reliability of their troops.

Things moved quickly.  By early March, Russian troops had secured the entire peninsula.  On March 6, the Crimean Supreme Council voted to ask to accede to Russia.  The council scheduled a referendum for March 16, which offered two choices:  join Russia or return to Crimea’s 1992 constitution, which gave the peninsula significant autonomy.  Those who favored Crimea remaining part of Ukraine under the current constitution had no box to check.

The conduct of the referendum proved chaotic and took place absent any credible international observers.  Local authorities reported a turnout of 83 percent, with 96.7 percent voting to join Russia.  The numbers seemed implausible, given that ethnic Ukrainians and Crimean Tatars accounted for almost 40 percent of the peninsula’s population.  (Two months later, a leaked report from the Russian president’s Human Rights Council put turnout at only 30 percent, with about half of those voting to join Russia.)

On March 18, Crimean and Russian officials signed the Treaty of Accession of the Republic of Crimea to Russia.  Putin ratified the treaty three days later.

Russian Claims

Moscow maintains a historical claim to Crimea.  The Russians colonized Crimea during the reign of Catherine the Great, and they founded Sevastopol—the peninsula’s main port and largest city—to be the homeport for the Russian Black Sea Fleet.  Following the establishment of the Soviet Union, Crimea was a part of the Russian Soviet Federative Socialist Republic until 1954, when it was transferred administratively to the Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic.

It is also true that Crimea in 2014 had an ethnic Russian majority of about 60 percent—the only part of Ukraine where ethnic Russians constituted the majority.  But it is equally true that, when the Soviet Union collapsed in December 1991, the resulting independent states recognized one another in their then-existing borders.  Russia’s seizure of Crimea from Ukraine violated, among other agreements, the UN Charter, the 1975 Helsinki Final Act, the 1994 Budapest Memorandum of Security Assurances for Ukraine and the 1997 Treaty on Friendship, Cooperation and Partnership between Ukraine and Russia.

Moscow expressed concern about the fate of ethnic Russians in Crimea, but no evidence showed any threat to them.  The Russian government justified the referendum and annexation as an act of self-determination, though it appears that well less than half of the Crimean population actually voted to join Russia.  In any case, the Kremlin applies the principle of self-determination selectively; Moscow responded to the desire of Chechens for independence from Russia after the Soviet collapse with two bloody conflicts.

It appears that domestic politics provided one motive behind Putin’s decision to seize Crimea.  He returned to the presidency in 2012 with an economic situation much weaker than during his first two terms as president (2000-2008).  Instead of being able to cite economic growth and rising living standards, he based much of his reelection appeal on Russian nationalism.  Seizing Crimea in a quick and relatively bloodless operation proved very popular with the Russian public.  Putin’s approval rating climbed accordingly.

Crimea Today and Looking Forward

Crimea has undergone significant changes over the past six years.  A large number of ethnic Ukrainians and Crimean Tatars—some put the total at 140,000—have left the peninsula since 2014.  Crimean Tatars complain of intimidation and oppression as one reason for moving.  During the same period, some 250,000 people have moved from Russia to Crimea (Crimean Tatar leaders claim the influx is much larger).  The inflow has included troops and sailors, as the Kremlin has bolstered the Russian military presence on the peninsula, deploying new submarines, surface combatants and combat aircraft among other things.

The economic picture is mixed.  Trying to create a success story, Moscow has poured in more than $10 billion in direct subsidies as well as funding major construction and infrastructure projects, such as the highway and railroad bridges that now cross the Kerch Strait to link Crimea directly to Russia.  On the other hand, small business has suffered, particularly with the decline in tourism, which once accounted for about one quarter of Crimea’s economy.  Crimea also remains subject to a variety of Western economic and other sanctions.  It is probably fair to say that the reality of the economic situation today falls short of what many in Crimea expected, or hoped for, with Russia’s annexation.

The ongoing Russian-Ukrainian conflict in Donbas has pushed Crimea to the back pages, with Kyiv understandably focusing on trying to end that fighting, which claims the lives of Ukrainian soldiers on almost a weekly basis.  Still, while Donbas has meant far more dead than Crimea, Crimea’s seizure arguably has done as much, if not more, damage to the European security order.  A key premise of the 1975 Helsinki Final Act and subsequent documents was that state borders should be inviolable and not changed by force; Russia’s actions in 2014 shredded that principle.  That has caused unease among Russia’s other neighbors.

The Ukrainian government maintains that it will get Crimea back.  Analytically, it is difficult to see how Kyiv can muster the political, diplomatic, economic and military leverage needed to do so.  Perhaps the one possibility would be if Ukraine were to achieve dramatic success in growing its economy, both in absolute terms and relative to the Russian economy, to the point where Crimeans calculated that their living standards would be better off as part of Ukraine.  Moscow would likely fiercely resist that—just ask the Chechens—and, in any case, Ukraine’s economy has a long way to go.

Even if Crimea’s return appears implausible in the near term, the United States and Europe should continue to support Kyiv’s position, maintain Crimea-related sanctions on Russia, and hold to the policy of non-recognition of Crimea’s annexation.  Moscow should pay some price for its use of military force to seize the peninsula.  That’s the right thing to do for Ukraine, for the European security order, and for dissuading the Kremlin from trying land grabs elsewhere.

The West also should remember the case of the Baltic states.  For five decades, the United States and other European countries refused to recognize their incorporation into the Soviet Union.  For most of that time, the Baltics regaining independence seemed implausible…until it happened.

* * * * *