Latest news with #Chechens
Business Mayor
26-05-2025
- Politics
- Business Mayor
‘I knew I would die in jail': how the right-hand man of Georgia's de facto ruler ended up on the run
G iorgi Bachiashvili is on the run. The urbane 39-year-old slipped a surveillance team two months ago to flee his home in Tbilisi, Georgia, midway through a trial at which he was destined to be sentenced to 11 years in jail. An Interpol red notice has been requested by the Georgian authorities asking law enforcement to find and arrest him over a $42m crime, and he further claims to have been informed by the intelligence services of two countries that there is an active plot to kill him. 'Groups from the northern Caucasus, most likely Chechens,' he said. For more than a decade, Bachiashvili worked for Bidzina Ivanishvili, the reclusive billionaire who as the honorary chair of the Georgian Dream party is widely regarded as the de facto leader of Georgia, ruling from a hilltop glass business centre and residence in Tbilisi. In December last year, Ivanishvili was put under US economic sanctions for 'undermining the democratic and Euro-Atlantic future of Georgia for the benefit of the Russian Federation'. He was further accused by the US of overseeing the violent repression of hundreds of thousands of people protesting on the streets of Tbilisi over his turn against the west and seeming alignment of Georgia with Moscow, the place he first made his fortune after the breakup of the Soviet Union. Students and families of arrested protesters at a demonstration in Tbilisi. Photograph: Sébastien Canaud/NurPhoto/REX/Shutterstock Bachiashvili said he was the businessman-cum-politician's 'closest person, right-hand man'. 'Consigliere, I would not say,' he added. 'As consiglieri do the shady stuff as well.' Arguably few people have a more intimate understanding of the enigmatic mind of Ivanishvili, Georgia's richest man, who was once an advocate of European Union membership. It is Ivanishvili who is today driving the hunt to jail Bachiashvili, the latter said, following a spectacular falling out. Bachiashvili has asked the Guardian for the location of the interview to be kept a secret due to fears for his safety. His account, albeit one from someone who has a grievance and is on the run, offers perhaps the most telling insight yet into the mentality of the man accused of bringing Georgia back into the Russian sphere, three and a half decades after the fall of the Soviet Union. 'He will sacrifice the land, any interest for his personal wellbeing and security,' claimed Bachiashvili. The road to right-hand man Bachiashvili started working on real estate deals in the Moscow office of one of Ivanishvili's companies in 2011 after his mother, a renowned eye doctor in Georgia, had mentioned to one of her regular clients her pride at her son's success at a business school in France. The patient was Ivanishvili's mother; her son was with her at the time and looking to recruit bright young things for his growing business and political empire. Bidzina Ivanishvili, then prime minister, in September 2013. Photograph: Vano Shlamov/AFP/Getty Images It was Bachiashvili, in advance of Ivanishvili's election as prime minister in October 2012, who helped sell his boss's Russian assets, which were regarded as an obstacle to electoral success given Putin's 2008 invasion in the north of the country. At the age of 26, Bachiashvili was appointed deputy chief executive of Georgia's sovereign wealth fund – a position that placed him 'always by [Ivanishvili's] side' – and soon tasked unofficially with liaising with the bankers managing the then prime minister's private wealth, he said. The 2016, Panama papers leak revealed that Ivanishvili had not disclosed he owned a company managed by Mossack Fonseca, a since-shuttered Panamanian law firm, but the company's purpose remained a mystery. 'It was owning and managing his [$1.3bn] arts portfolio stored in New York and London,' Bachiashvili said of the company, Lynden Management Ltd, which was one of his responsibilities. 'In 2022, he brought all of this art back to Georgia [because of the fear of sanctions], and in order to avoid the paying the custom duties and fees and the property tax, and in the near future, the profit tax from sales of these art pieces he enacted an offshore law … Like, that's $400m he's just taken out of the pocket of Georgia.' Ivanishvili's lawyer described this claim as 'outright lies', adding: 'Using an offshore zone in itself is no crime.' During these early years, Bachiashvili had also set up a private equity fund for Ivanishvili in the Cayman Islands with the assets held in Luxembourg. This became Bachiashvili's focus after Ivanishvili, said to be uncomfortable in a public role, stood down as prime minister in 2013. But there was little change in the way the country was run, Bachiashvili said. The relationship between Ivanishvili and Georgia's various prime ministers remained that of an 'angry boss and a stupid employee', Bachiashvili said. Bidzina Ivanishvili, left, and the Georgian prime minister, Irakli Kobakhidze, at an April 2024 pro-government rally in Tbilisi. Photograph: Irakli Gedenidze/Reuters 'I was maybe the most regular guest in the Ivanishvili residence, in his business centre,' he said. 'I would see prime ministers, judges, prosecutor general, ministers of interior, everybody walking to his meetings like employees. He would sometimes yell at them, sometimes call them worthless. It's just like a sultan and his servants.' Ivanishvili's lawyer described this claim as a 'groundless attempt to discredit Mr Ivanishvili'. The tycoon had some other peccadilloes. He is known in Georgia for his collection of zebras, peacocks and other exotic animals. There were sharks and dolphins, said Bachiashvili. He had a habit of ripping up ancient tall trees from around Georgia for his private arboretum at his summer residence in Ureki, one of four homes in the country. 'He has to own something to love it – that's his worldview,' said Bachiashvili. The trees were regarded as a source of life energy, he said. 'He was obsessed with his mortality,' said Bachiashvili. 'He's doing all these experimental, crazy procedures, such as stem cell transplants and all these crazy voodoo things. His voodoo master, Yulia Krushanova, lives with him.' Giorgi Bachiashvili in an undisclosed location. Photograph: Katarina Premfors/The Guardian Krushanova, who describes herself as an 'anti-ageing medicine specialist', is reportedly married to a Russian intelligence officer, but this could not be independently verified. Ivanshivili's lawyer denied that a 'voodoo doctor' lived with him. He said: 'These statements by Bachiashvili are absurd. I can assure you that no doctor lives with him, much less with 'occult' deviations, and no experiments are held.' Krushanova did not respond to a request for comment. Accusations – and an escape Ivanishvili could blow hot and cold, Bachiashvili added, but he evidently enjoyed his financially lucrative work. 'I'm not there to change [him], I'm there to do my job, which I was doing, I think, very well,' Bachiashvili said. It was in this role that Bachiashvili discovered that an adviser at Credit Suisse, Patrice Lescaudron, was sending them 'cooked books' to hide his theft of hundreds of millions of dollars of Ivanishvili's funds. He led a successful legal battle in multiple jurisdictions to get some of the money back. Meanwhile, allegations of a rigged election in 2020 triggered concerns in the European parliament about a concentration of power in Ivanishvili's hands in a country that was on path to accession to the EU. Ivanishvili, who left Moscow in 2003, remained clear in private that Georgia's path was with the west, while still maintaining cordial relations with Putin. Then in February 2022, Russia invaded Ukraine. Read More Solicitors win costs battle as Vos pleads for rules to be updated Bachiashvili, who was by then spending more time in the US and on his own investments, including in cryptocurrency, said: 'He started telling me, 'I think this Credit Suisse saga is not actually Credit Suisse, but it's some external forces like the Americans trying to strip me of my money and take it as a ransom for Georgia to go into war with Russia.' I told him it didn't make sense. 'He would spend sometimes 30, sometimes 40 minutes on the call with me, especially while I was in the US, just airing his views on it, saying that he's 'such a type of person that even if you hold the gun up his head, he would not subdue to such things'. I thought, why is this guy talking to me about this for 40 minutes on the phone every day? Then I realised, he thinks that our line is tapped. He would sometimes say, 'Yeah, and tell your friends that I'm of this opinion.'' The Georgian government then started talking about the US and the EU as being part of a 'global war party'. Bachiashvili said: 'I think that up until 2022 he had an illusion that Georgia would enter the EU under Ivanishvili's shadow grip. It became evident that the EU will not accept Georgia with this sort of autocratic power.' A move towards Putin was the solution, he suggests. Ivanishvili's lawyer called this claim groundless and said it was under Ivanishvili that Georgia became an EU candidate state. Bachiashvili posted pro-Ukrainian messages on his Instagram account at the start of the war, which prompted a call from Ivanishvili, he claimed. 'It was the first time he was really out of his mind,' he said. 'He was yelling, he was threatening. The message was basically, 'You better stay quiet. You need to know your place.'' Ivanishvili's lawyer denied that this conversation took place. The tide had turned. And a bitcoin deal would be Bachiashvili's downfall. Giorgi Bachiashvili said he had been advised of a death threat. Photograph: Katarina Premfors/The Guardian He had tried to get Ivanishvili interested in investing in cryptocurrency over the years but without success, Bachiashvili said. In 2015, he said he approached Ivanishvili again, but for a loan for a bitcoin investment he wished to make. Ivanishvili directed him to the bank he owned, CartuBank. A $5m loan was agreed by the bank with the caveat that the institution would reap 30% of the profits from investing the money in bitcoin, Bachiashvili said. After a year, Bachiashvili repaid the loan in full, plus the agreed kicker for the bank, he claimed. In May, 2023, Ivanishvili called to thank Bachiashvili for the latest win in the Credit Suisse legal case. But a few days later, Bachiashvili was invited to attend an interview with a prosecutor, nominally about an investigation into a hydropower plant, he said. Bitcoin was top of the agenda. Ivanishvili was claiming that he had done 'what a father would not do for a son', according to his witness statement, by being a $5m investor in the bitcoin deal. The allegation was that Bachiashvili had falsely claimed to have sold the bitcoins but instead kept them, reaping the rewards of their soaring value, and in effect stealing $42.7m in profits owed to Ivanishvili. The sole communication to Bachiashvili from his former mentor on the day of his first interrogation, he said, was a WhatsApp message to advise him to 'talk to your lawyer'. His world was crumbling around him. Bachiashvili was put on criminal trial in January this year on charges of misappropriating Ivanishvili's funds and money laundering. An offer was put to his lawyers that the criminal complaint would be dropped if he agreed to stump up 60% of the allegedly misappropriated bitcoins. The demand would rise by 5% for each month that he failed to agree. Bachiashvili would not fold to what he claims was extortion. Ivanshivili's lawyer confirmed the offer but responded: 'I believe that, with the parties coming to an agreement, and the plaintiff informing law enforcements of the absence of claims, the situation of Bachiashvili as a suspect in a crime could be much easier.' Bachiashvili claimed the trial was a foregone conclusion. 'I think it's one of the very few cases in the world where the claimant, the judge, the chief justices and the chief prosecutor all are sanctioned,' he said. Transparency International has described the case as being 'devoid of both legal and factual grounds'. Ivanshivili's lawyer said the NGO harboured 'clearly defined political sympathies and objectives'. Two weeks before the verdict, Bachiashvili decided to flee. Bachiashvili said: 'I got a message from one of the guys in the state security services that Ivanishvili has said that, 'I will crush him in jail and I will make him do what I want.'' Ivanshivili's lawyer described the claim as 'just yellow press-level [tabloid] gossiping'. The escape was well-planned. For months, Bachiashvili had been making regular visits to a border region called Kakheti, in order to convince the security services that were surveilling him that this was normal behaviour. On the evening of 2 March, he told his driver and security man that he wished to go to Kakheti but that he would need to be dropped off halfway there to meet a journalist alone and in secret. 'I jumped off from the car, so that the surveillance was a bit far, you know, behind a corner and I went through a building to a waiting car,' he said. He left his phone in a bag in the back of the car so that those tracking him would follow a false trail. Bachiashvili had been forced to surrender his Georgian and Russian passports. But the Russian document had lapsed and weeks earlier he had secretly applied for a renewal. It was this he used at the Armenian border crossing and then at the airport to get a 5am flight to Qatar. He had advised his parents and sister and her family to take a holiday out of the country at the time, and so they were safe. 'It's not easy, because you're basically leaving everything behind. You don't know whether you will be successful. [But] I knew that basically I was going to die in jail.' While in exile, he has been talking to various governments about his future, and it was during one of these discussions, he claimed, that he was advised of a death threat. 'They told me that it's not that they see a risk, but it's that they know that it's actually been ordered,' he said. He does not believe that Ivanishvili is behind it. He said: 'My fear is that it could be coming from secret services or some forces from some country that would want Ivanishvili to become more vulnerable. If they can hang a killing on him then there is [a] much lesser chance that he'll be able to have normal dialogue with the US or he will be more on a hook.' Bachiashvili, who intends to appeal against his conviction, believes Ivanishvili turned on him because he concluded that he could no longer be trusted to do his bidding, and that he may even be a western spy. 'Ivanishvili's grip on this power is existential for him,' he said. 'He is fighting for his life. He's like a machine only working in favour of his reptilian desires. And that desire is to stay alive.'
New York Times
01-05-2025
- Entertainment
- New York Times
‘Words of War' Review: Portrait of a Fearless Reporter
The sort of movie in which a story's inherent power is enough to oil otherwise creaky biopic machinery, 'Words of War' dramatizes the life of Anna Politkovskaya, the Russian journalist who became known for her tenacious reporting on the second Chechen war and for her undaunted criticism of Vladimir V. Putin. The movie opens with an apparent attempt on her life — a poisoning on an airplane — and ends with her death in 2006, when she was murdered in her Moscow apartment building. In between, it recounts the tremendous risks that Politkovskaya (played by Maxine Peake) faced in finding and persuading people to talk. When she travels to Grozny, she has difficulty earning the confidence of Chechens, who believe that no Russian reporter can be trusted. One says that she is trying to illuminate 'the black hole of the world.' The Russian military eyes her warily, too (a major threatens to slit her throat), and soon an agent (Ian Hart) visits her while she is getting coffee and a croissant in Moscow — to make it clear he's keeping watch. The closing credits acknowledge that the filmmakers (James Strong directed a screenplay by Eric Poppen) have taken some dramaturgical liberties, including inventing the Hart character. Politkovskaya's own description of serving as a hostage negotiator at a Moscow theater in 2002 differs in tenor from the portrayal of events onscreen. Some deviations are inevitable, but the expository dialogue — and the convention of having Russian characters speak English, with British accents — are distractions. Even so, Politkovskaya's bravery, and Peake's commitment to honoring it, is enough.
Yahoo
22-04-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
Chechen scholar: ‘Both in Chechnya and Ukraine, there's a similar sense of Russian desperation'
For most people today, the word Chechnya immediately brings to mind Ramzan Kadyrov, the authoritarian leader who governs the region as a loyal vassal of Vladimir Putin. It evokes images of a turbulent, fear-stricken state at the mercy of the Kremlin's whims. Yet, Chechnya's story is far more intricate. After the collapse of the Soviet Union, Chechnya — like many former Soviet republics — sought independence from Moscow. This pursuit led to two brutal wars in 1994-1996 and 1999-2000 that devastated its population and left lasting scars. Since Russia launched its full-scale invasion of Ukraine, leaders like President Volodymyr Zelensky have drawn parallels between Russia's tactics in Chechnya and Ukraine. Many see the war in Ukraine as part of a broader pattern of Russian aggression that has affected multiple nations and shattered countless lives. This is why some pro-democracy Chechens – including those who have been fighting on the side of Ukraine against Russia — recognize that the outcome of the war in Ukraine could shape the prospects for Russia's decolonization and the future of their own national liberation. The Kyiv Independent spoke with Chechen political scientist Marat Iliyasov about the lead-up to the Chechen wars, their consequences for Chechnya's cultural identity, and what lessons the world can take from this dark period as Ukraine's future remains far from certain amid Russia's ongoing aggression. This interview has been edited for length and clarity. The Kyiv Independent: How did the Chechen wars start? Marat Iliyasov: The first Russo-Chechen war, which began in 1994, was the first armed conflict that Russia was directly conducting in the post-Soviet space. It was likely a harbinger of the resurgence of Russian imperialism. After the collapse of the Soviet Union, Russia was largely seen as a democratizing state. However, this war showed that wasn't the case. Despite this evidence, many refused to believe in Russian imperialism. People wanted to hold on to the idea that Russia had shed its imperialist mindset, inherited from the Soviet Union. The attack on Chechnya was likely meant to serve as an example to others seeking full decolonization, wanting to break free from imperial control. Of course, Chechnya wanted to seek this peacefully. And even when war started looming, Chechen leadership at that time tried to prevent it. They made several attempts at negotiations, they tried to keep in touch with the Russian administration. However, the pro-war faction within the Kremlin was stronger at that moment, and they chose to begin rebuilding the empire. This rebuilding started with Chechnya, which helped to formulate a frame that Russia used later in other wars. Putin used a very similar rhetoric before attacking Ukraine. Same as in Chechnya or Georgia, his 'goal' was 'to protect Russians.' After the Second Russo-Chechen War, Russia was inspired by its success and continued with the attacks. Next came Georgia and then Ukraine. Indeed, if it worked for Chechnya, why should it not work for others? But what encouraged Putin even more was international silence. Chechens were left alone in their fight. Georgians were also sacrificed. Ukraine is receiving international help, but it is a question of how long. What is important to realize is that the imperial mindset that had been ingrained in Russians during the Soviet times is still present. It was present even earlier, when Russia was mistakenly viewed by the West as a democratizing country, but everyone wanted to believe that it had passed. Russia's attacks on Chechnya serve as a powerful example for others. As we later learned, no former Soviet republic — aside from the Baltic states — has been treated as an entity deserving of its independence. Nearly all the countries that are recognized as independent today, including Ukraine, Kazakhstan, and others, have faced the same denial of sovereignty that Chechnya did. Chechnya, in many ways, was the harbinger of what was to come. The Kyiv Independent: Dhokhar Dudayev was president of Chechnya when the country declared its independence — in 1996, Russia assassinated him. What was he like as a leader? There's this clip of him that went viral on Ukrainian social media, where he was saying decades ago that a war between Russia and Ukraine was inevitable. But I think most people don't realize how important he was for Chechnya's independence movement. Marat Iliyasov: When Chechens were deported to Central Asia in 1944, the entire ethnic group was labeled as enemies of the people. Because of this stigma, they were later often denied promotions to high positions or any significant advancement. Therefore, when Dzhokhar Dudayev was promoted to the rank of a general, it was a big deal for all the Chechens. He was the first Chechen to become a general (in the USSR). He achieved this rank within the Soviet Union, which was a remarkable accomplishment. While some other Chechens also rose to high positions, they remained loyal to the Soviet state. Dudayev, however, likely always harbored a nationalist mindset, seeing the Soviet Union as nothing more than an empire — something he understood all too well. When the opportunity arose and nationalism began resurging across the Soviet Union, Dudayev chose to serve his people. He was a strong and respected leader, admired for his achievements, character, strategic mindset, foresight, and analytical abilities. He understood the imperial mindset of Russia and its leaders very well. When he took over the leadership of the Chechen National Front and the independence movement, he made it clear what would happen next. He knew how the Soviet leadership thought and (how the Russian leadership) still thinks today. Nothing has changed since then. Dudayev saw the areas where Russia could exploit people's vulnerabilities, and he pointed them out. He highlighted places like Crimea, Ukraine, and others, saying that these places will be exploited by Russia — and this happened. It was not prophetic, and he was not a fortune teller, either. But he clearly saw Russia's strategic goals and realized its capacity. He saw that Russia's leadership did not change much. The same people who, just a year earlier, were part of the Communist Party and the Soviet elite — the so-called last empire — were still in power. They had simply changed their clothes and hats, presenting themselves as those willing to democratize Russia. But in reality, they weren't seeking democracy. As Gorbachev famously called his policy, "restructuring," they were pushing for changes that would help them rebuild their empire and regain power. Dudayev was a symbol of Chechen independence and the fight for that freedom. Unlike many other leaders around the world, he didn't run away or hide, when the war started. He had the opportunity to do so, but he didn't shy away from war and this is something that makes every Chechen proud of him. Similarly, Zelensky, who was also offered a chance to leave the country, stayed and fought. This deserves great respect. Both Dudayev and Zelensky chose to fight for their people, and that makes Chechens and Ukrainians proud. The Kyiv Independent: Historically, under the Russian Empire and the Soviet Union, anything that wasn't Russian was often marginalized by the authorities and, during darker periods, even outright banned. In the context of the Russian Federation today and its control over Chechnya, how much is Chechen culture allowed to thrive, or is it still subordinated to Russian culture? Marat Iliyasov: The situation in Chechnya is somewhat complicated. On the one hand, there's a rigid framework imposed by the state — the Russian Empire's influence — that can't be openly challenged. Yet, to some extent, Chechen culture operates outside this framework. In some ways, Chechen culture has room to thrive. One reason is that very few Russians remain in Chechnya, making it a largely homogeneous society today. To be clear, I'm not advocating for homogeneity in general, but this creates an environment where Chechens can freely use their language and express their cultural identity. This stands in stark contrast to the Soviet era when speaking Chechen was prohibited. So in that sense, yes, Chechen culture does have room to grow. However, there's another layer to consider: the restrictions imposed by local authorities that come alongside the overarching Russian influence. It is important to understand that Russia and Russian interlocutors in Chechnya demand Chechen loyalty, but Chechen identity is largely built on resisting Russian imperialism. For over 200 years, generation after generation of Chechens have lost lives in the struggle for independence from the Russian Empire. Almost every Chechen family, including the Kadyrovs, has suffered losses due to clashes with Russia. Everyone experienced losses during the deportations and the conquest of the Caucasus. This shared history shapes Chechen identity. Every Chechen lost someone during the last two wars as well, and this collective trauma weighs heavily on the population. Meanwhile, Russia enforces a strict expectation of loyalty. But when Chechen identity is rooted in resistance to Russian rule, this creates an inherent conflict. So, what's happening in Chechnya now? To maintain power and secure their positions, Kadyrov and the local administration are actively reshaping this identity. The legacy of resistance built over hundreds of years is being redefined through Kadyrov's rhetoric and oppressive measures. Those who don't comply face punishment. They're putting significant effort into reshaping Chechen identity. A whole new generation is being raised with a different understanding of their roots. However, they're not entirely succeeding. Many Chechens live outside the republic and offer an alternative perspective to those growing up inside. Those with a critical mind can easily spot the lies, and recognize what aligns with true Chechen identity and what doesn't. Religious authorities also promote this new narrative. Religion holds significant importance in Chechen culture, making this approach especially influential in reshaping identity. Today, the Mufti of Chechnya and the entire apparatus of the Muftiate — mullahs, imams, and other religious authorities — promote a narrative along the lines of, 'Look, you can practice Islam now. Isn't this what you wanted? Kadyrov and Russia have provided this for you.' Additionally, they're using propaganda to undermine the idea of Chechen independence, highlighting how difficult it was during the times of leaders like Dzhokhar Dudayev and Aslan Maskhadov. Yes, it was a challenging period, and ordinary people certainly suffered — poverty was widespread, and the situation was tough. But in the post-Soviet era, it wasn't much better anywhere. Will these efforts succeed? It is questionable. Ultimately, it depends on the political situation. If Russia continues to dominate, if it wins the war in Ukraine, and if it maintains its empire, it's possible that two or three more generations of Chechens could become loyal to Russia. After all, no one expected the collapse of the Soviet Union, and many didn't think about disobeying it after four generations raised under Soviet rule. But despite all of that, the seed of resistance, the understanding of true identity, remained. It was there in the Baltic States, in the South Caucasus, in Central Asia, in Ukraine, and in Chechnya. People knew who they were. And while the Soviet Union didn't succeed, Russia is a much weaker state than the USSR ever was. The Kyiv Independent: We know that there are Chechens currently fighting on the side of Ukraine against Russia, which is a very interesting example of how some Chechens are taking steps toward the decolonization of Russia. To what extent can resistance exist within Chechnya itself, beyond these passive efforts to preserve language and culture? Marat Iliyasov: I believe a large portion of the population is unhappy and would support any form of resistance. However, Kadyrov is strong. He has built a powerful police force capable of suppressing any dissent. Everyone knows that those who oppose the Kadyrov regime will face severe punishment. As a result, those who want to resist often isolate themselves from their families, because Kadyrov's system punishes the families of those who defy him. For those who cannot live under the regime, who refuse to accept it, or who cannot bring themselves to comply, the psychological toll is immense. It's incredibly difficult to endure the humiliation imposed by the regime. As a result, these individuals often try to separate themselves from their families, presenting themselves as lone rebels. This situation mirrors what happened during the final years of the Russian Empire, when people didn't want to involve anyone who wasn't brave enough or willing to sacrifice their relatives — or even their own lives. They chose to fight alone, as individual rebels against the Tsarist Empire. Today, the situation is very similar, and the potential for resistance is significant. However, it can't truly take shape due to the suppressive mechanisms in place. Dissent exists, but an actual fight is nearly impossible. One of the major factors at play is the knowledge that if Chechnya were to rebel against Kadyrov, even if such a rebellion were successful, Russia would intervene with more troops to support Kadyrov. This would effectively spark a third war in just three decades, which feels all too close. People haven't forgotten the suffering and loss they've endured. No one is willing to face that again — at least for now. However, once a new generation grows up without the same fear of Russia, there may be room for new leaders to emerge. Perhaps there will even be rebellion within Kadyrov's inner circle. It's hard to say what will happen, but one thing is certain: there is definitely an underground movement, and the waters are boiling. The Kyiv Independent: President Zelensky, among others, has drawn comparisons between the Chechen wars and Russia's actions in Ukraine today. To what extent do you agree with this comparison, and what lessons should we learn from the similarities? Marat Iliyasov: Definitely. I don't see a significant difference in tactics. Both situations involve attempts to first eliminate the leadership of so-called separatists. In Chechnya, for example, there were people presented as opposition to Dudayev, but they were essentially backed by Russia. Similarly, in Ukraine, (made-up) regions like 'Novorossiya' were promoted as an alternative to (Kyiv), but this also failed to materialize. Then, there was the attempt at a lightning war — a Blitzkrieg strategy — which didn't succeed in either case. Both in Chechnya and in Ukraine, there's a similar sense of desperation. It's the desire to retaliate after failing to achieve success in a "decent" or "just" war. When you engage in a battle that's not a secret, when you openly face off with each other, it mirrors the kind of duels that might have happened in the Middle Ages, where each side claims to be the strongest. However, there was no fair fight. And when they lost, what followed was a desperate violence of psychologically unstable and inferior people, who cannot fight fairly. This violence manifested itself in the massacres in Bucha, Samashki, Aldi, and Mariupol. I think this is driven by desperation, and in a way, it's quite cowardly. When people can't succeed in a direct confrontation, they resort to these tactics. This pattern repeats itself in both situations. Russian troops have used civilians as human shields to protect themselves, fearing open combat with Chechens. A good example of this is the 1995 hostage crisis in Budyonnovsk, orchestrated by Shamil Basayev. It was that very crisis that ultimately brought people to the negotiation table. Chechens weren't killing their hostages. Russians did it. But everyone remembers this attack as a terrorist attack. Yet, few remember how Russian forces used to take hostages from hospitals in Chechnya during the war. That's rarely talked about, and no one is held accountable for it. The final parallel is the war of attrition happening now in Ukraine, just as it did in Chechnya. Fortunately, Ukraine is a larger, recognized state with Western support, so there's hope. So, as Dudayev predicted, maybe this will eventually bring an end to Russia's imperial mindset, and perhaps even lead to a more democratic Russia. That's my hope, at least, though it's hard to fully believe in it. But still, it's something to hope for. Hey there, it's Kate Tsurkan, thanks for reading my latest interview. I remember seeing news about the wars in Chechnya when I was growing up in the U.S., but I was just a kid, too young to realize the gravity of what was truly happening. Talking with Professor Iliyasov and reading more about what happened, it's so clear how Russia's tactics to achieve their colonial ambitions never changed – breaking ceasefires that they themselves proposed, deliberty targeting civilians. It's a tragedy what happened to the Chechen people, and we can't let that happen to Ukraine to. Don't let Russia's long history of crimes be forgotten. It you appreciate reading about this sort of thing, Read also: Decolonizing Russia — what it means and why it matters We've been working hard to bring you independent, locally-sourced news from Ukraine. Consider supporting the Kyiv Independent.
Saba Yemen
21-03-2025
- Politics
- Saba Yemen
Foreign Fighters Establish Control Over 19 Areas in Syria
Damascus – SABA: Well-informed Syrian sources revealed on Thursday that foreign fighters, who have joined extremist armed groups in Syria, have taken control of 19 areas across the country. According to the Al-Ma'louma news website, fighters from seven foreign nationalities, including Azeris, Chechens, Tajiks, and Uyghurs, form the core of these extremist groups and have asserted dominance over nine regions in Syria, particularly in five areas of Idlib, in addition to other locations scattered across Syrian territory. The sources stated that these fighters are primarily affiliated with Jabhat al-Nusra, a U.S.-designated terrorist organization, as well as other extremist factions. Many of them have integrated into the so-called "New Syrian Security Apparatus" through alliances with Julani's factions. These militants are reportedly enforcing their ideology in the areas they control and have started forming social enclaves to serve as support bases. This, the sources warn, could lead to radicalized communities similar to Al-Hol Camp, known for housing extremist elements. Additionally, they are attempting to expand into Damascus and its suburbs by forcibly displacing residents and seizing homes under the pretext of being close to Julani's leadership. The sources emphasized that these groups operate without any deterrence, treating the situation as if they are in complete control. It is worth noting that Syria has attracted thousands of extremists over the years from various Arab and Islamic countries, particularly from South and East Asia. Whatsapp Telegram Email Print more of (International)
Yahoo
06-03-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
How Years of American Policy Bumbling Boosted Putin
How the West Deceived Itself About Russia and Betrayed Ukraineby Alexander VindmanPublicAffairs, 304 pp., $30 JUST OVER THREE DECADES AGO, American policymakers faced a dilemma. A pair of new states, emerging from decades of Soviet rule, possessed massive nuclear arsenals. As American policymakers saw it, only one of these states should retain its nuclear arsenal—all the better, Washington thought, to prevent 'loose nuclear weapons' from spilling outward. One of the states was busy consolidating a new nation, clearly angling for membership in multiple Western bodies. The other, however, had already exhibited shocking instability: ruling officials had ordered their military to shell opposing parliamentarians; other officials were prepping to launch a devastating war against a separate nation that had declared independence; some officials even floated the use of force to change borders across the entire region if neighboring nations didn't do their bidding. For anyone even tangentially familiar with the news over the past few years, the identities of these two nations are obvious. The latter—the one whose ruling government had, by the mid-1990s, already come within a hair's breadth of civil war, already begun slaughtering Chechens who had the temerity to try to declare independence, and already declared its neo-imperial right to dominate the entire post-Soviet region—was Russia. The former—the one that Moscow had already begun threatening, openly musing about what it would take to forcibly change its borders, regardless of what populations on the ground wanted—was Ukraine. For Washington, all of these factors were immaterial. All that mattered was succoring the Kremlin, ignoring the revanchism already boiling within Moscow, and forcing Ukraine (as well as Belarus and Kazakhstan) to divest its nuclear arsenal—all in return for little more than empty promises, easily broken. It is an era that Alexander Vindman deftly details in his new book The Folly of Realism. And it is a decision that has not only come back to haunt Americans and Ukrainians alike, but that sums up so much of the American policy priorities in the region overall, both then and now. Over multiple administrations, both Democratic and Republican, American policymakers have done everything they can to prioritize Moscow's needs over any other nations in the region—even, as we've seen, to the point of degrading American interests and leaving places like Ukraine vulnerable to Russian aggression. Share Vindman traces this 'Russia-centric approach' to the waning days of the Soviet Union itself, when American officials finally realized that the Soviet splinter was not a matter of if, but when. The George H.W. Bush administration gathered a small group of experts—so off-the-books that it was dubbed the 'Ungroup'—to try to chart out American policy within the shattered superpower. The Ungroup came to a quick conclusion: The primary thing that mattered was preventing the USSR's nuclear arsenal from falling into the wrong—or even numerous—hands. Things like Russian nationalism, Russian imperialism, or Russian revanchism were hardly concerns; the thought that Russia could ever one day be a threat to the West, let alone to Moscow's neighbors, was laughable. As such, with fifteen new states emerging from the Soviet rubble in the early 1990s, American policy was simple: corral the nukes, regardless of the cost. And if that meant forcing Ukraine to hand over to Russia the Soviet nuclear arsenal on Ukrainian territory—gutting Ukrainian national security and strengthening the Kremlin in the process—so be it. The number of Soviet nukes that were stationed outside Russia was enormous—especially the arsenal that ended up in Ukraine. Vindman cites a declassified September 1991 intelligence estimate finding that Ukraine hosted about 20 percent of the former USSR's ICBM warheads, 40 percent of its heavy bomber warheads, and 20 percent of its medium bomber warheads, totaling some 4,500 nuclear weapons. The government in Kyiv never controlled these weapons, just as the governments in Minsk and Almaty didn't control the arsenals on Belarusian and Kazakh soil. After all, as Vindman notes, 'The Ukrainian state began with no defense or security or foreign-policy structures. . . . Retaining nuclear weapons as a deterrent to Russian irredentism and aggression was not a workable policy in practice even if it guaranteed greater security in theory.' For American policymakers at the time, the possibility of nuclear weapons falling into the wrong hands seemed significant and alarming—and 'the wrong hands' quickly became synonymous with 'anyone's but Moscow's.' The Ungroup's 'central conclusion, which became U.S. policy under the president, was to do everything we could to maintain a strong central government in Moscow, because that was essential to maintaining control of the nuclear weapons,' then-CIA Director Robert Gates later told Vindman. 'And therefore, it was important to do everything we could, once the collapse took place, to have Russia itself retain its territorial integrity, but further to be as strong a government as possible in Moscow in order to have command and control over the nuclear weapons.' It was a decision that set the tone not only for the immediate aftermath of the Soviet collapse, but for three decades of American policy—and toward not just Moscow, but toward Kyiv and the entire range of former Soviet states that finally broke free of the Kremlin's control. When it came to crafting regional policy, Russia became, as it were, a first among supposed equals—and places like Ukraine became little more than nuisances for a Russo-American partnership that is, under Trump's second administration, now showing signs of coming to fruition. When the going gets tough, the good band together to find a way through. Ride with us: AT THE RISK OF STATING THE OBVIOUS: It's not as if American policymakers' overweening focus on Russian interests and on the potential for nuclear disaster didn't have a logic. The H.W. Bush administration was 'heavily influenced by the recent and ongoing example of Yugoslavia,' Vindman writes. But Bush, as well as his successor, Bill Clinton, seemed impervious to any signs that Moscow's gestures at democracy, or even at being a potential partner of the West, might be disingenuous, masking a far deeper rot of revanchism that has now burst forth under Vladimir Putin. The signs were all there for American policymakers to see, if only they had wanted to look. Long before Putin ever ascended to the Russian presidency, Russian President Boris Yeltsin was writing a neo-imperial playbook that his successor would later expand upon. There was Yeltsin threatening to forcibly redraw Ukraine's borders if Kyiv insisted on independence from Moscow. There was Yeltsin, a few years later, unleashing military forces on opposition politicians—a 'landmark turning point in Russia's failure to develop democracy,' said one analysis. There was Yeltsin, shortly thereafter, siccing his military on Chechnya, after Chechens voted for independence from Russia—all while Yeltsin refused to remove troops from Moldova, launched armed interference efforts in northern Georgia, and backed genocidaires in Serbia. None of it seemed to matter to the Americans, whether in the Bush or Clinton administrations. All the American lecturing, all the American condescension, all the precious American lines about the sanctity of democracy and civil rights and basic freedoms—all of it applied to other Soviet republics, but never to Russia. 'The U.S. set Western standards of conduct only for the non-Russian former Soviet republics,' Vindman writes. Russia got a pass on using force to crush political dissenters because they were communists, waging a violent war to suppress separatists in [Chechnya], and supporting the Serbian regime's campaign of ethnic cleansing in the Balkans. Russia was thus permitted by the sole superpower to conduct its own fitful transformation, without sufficient criticism or conditioning of aid, engagement, support, and inclusion in reform-minded Western institutions. U.S. policymakers continued to fear that criticism would roil Russian elites or give Russian nationalist reactionaries ammunition for further retrenchment. All of this—this soft-glove treatment of Russia, this willingness to parrot Russian pressures on places like Ukraine, this refusal to see the region as anything but Russia's playground—culminated in a confused, historically ignorant policy regarding Ukraine, regarding Russia, regarding everything that Moscow now threatens. It is, as Vindman correctly argues, a throughline tethering every American administration from H.W. Bush through Joe Biden. Donald Trump may have swung more in favor of Moscow than any administration previously, but many of the elements—not least a refusal to listen to Ukrainians, or any of the other former nations once dominated by Moscow—were always there in administrations previous. It is a series of policies that have clearly failed—and now, unsurprisingly, risk the kind of disaster previous administrations long claimed to want to avoid. Indeed, you could argue that the seeds of the ongoing Russian devastation of Ukraine—and the fact that Moscow has now pushed the world closer to the nuclear brink than it has been since the early 1960s—were the direct outgrowth not just of Russian revanchism, and Russians' inability to come to terms with their imperial identity, but of Americans' inability to foresee the kinds of effects their actions would take. Ukraine, in surrendering the nuclear weapons on its soil—with lots of American encouragement—also gave up its best chances of maintaining its distance from Moscow, all in return for paper promises, shredded the second Russian troops began ransacking Ukraine. In the long run, the American focus on nonproliferation in the 1990s—to the exclusion of Russian political currents—all but guaranteed a new chapter of nuclear proliferation. It will forever be a bitter irony that a figure like Barack Obama, who swept to power publicly claiming a desire to rid the world of nuclear weapons, did breathtakingly little when Russia first barreled into Ukraine in 2014—that is, when a nuclear power invaded one of the few countries to have actually removed its nuclear weapons. Obama's recalcitrance effectively guaranteed that no nation would ever get rid of its own nuclear weapons ever again—and that, if anything, states would now view nuclear weapons as the sole guarantor of stability, sovereignty, and safety moving forward. Share The Bulwark Incredibly, Obama later indicated that backing Ukraine was not a 'core interest' for the United States—completely missing that he set the stage for the new burst of nuclear proliferation that now appears in the wings. 'Because this escalation-averse, risk-sensitive approach is inspired by the existence of the nuclear arsenal that distinguishes Russia from non-nuclear authoritarian aggressors, the West has encouraged the idea that a nuclear arsenal is the ultimate security guarantee,' Vindman writes. 'Among vulnerable borderline democracies and authoritarian regimes alike, the denuclearization of Ukraine, permitting Russian aggression and making the West a victim of nuclear extortion, has only increased the desire to establish nuclear weapons programs, eroding Western nonproliferation efforts.' Small wonder that most Ukrainians regret giving up their nukes—and now want them back. ALL OF WHICH RAISES THE QUESTION: What now? Here, Vindman shines. He doesn't simply dispense with the Russocentric visions of previous administrations, but he eviscerates the schools of thought undergirding the 'realism' motivating Bush, the idealism motivating Obama, and the kleptocratic rapaciousness motivating Trump. (It's worth recalling that Vindman, a retired lieutenant colonel in the U.S. Army, played a key role in exposing the corrupt nexus at the heart of Trump's first impeachment, which led to his firing—as well as his first book.) All of these schools have not only overweighted the importance of Moscow's interests, but have undervalued America's own interests. They have all been, as the book's title indicates, follies of their own. There is, however, a potential solution at hand: neo-idealism. A term first coined by analyst Benjamin Tallis, this new school of strategy marries value-based judgments with resource-based decisions. As Tallis has described it, neo-idealism is a morally-based approach to geopolitics, grounded in the power of values conceived as ideals to strive for: human rights and fundamental freedoms, social and cultural liberalism, democratic governance; self-determination for democratic societies; and perhaps most importantly, the right of citizens in those societies to a hopeful future. Crucially, its proponents see the struggle for these ideals, and making progress toward them, not as luxuries to be set aside when hard-nosed interests are at stake. For the Neo-Idealists, our values are our interests. It is an emerging school that Vindman not only backs, but applies to ongoing American support for places like Ukraine. 'More consonant with American values than realism, and more literally realistic about achieving long-term stability and securing vital American interests, neo-idealism is emerging as a new way of thinking about foreign relations,' Vindman writes. It is a matching of force and rhetoric, of realistic assessments of American interests hewed to the best elements of American values. It's a flexible pairing, one that brings the airy, Obama-era paeans to a more grounded level—all while leaving the cynicism, and even nihilism, buttressing realism in the gutter. It is something that takes the world as it is, while never sacrificing the best that America can be—or forgetting what American interests are. It is an idea, as Vindman writes, whose time has come. Policies grounded in 'realism' have failed spectacularly, in the United States and Ukraine alike. And as neo-imperialism rears its head once more in Ukraine—and in Taiwan, Guyana, the Democratic Republic of Congo, and anywhere elsewhere suddenly watching the wolves circle—the best antidote is the neo-idealism that Vindman describes, if only we give it a chance. Share
