#11 - RW 284
Moscow Times
November 25, 2003
An Exercise in Obfuscation
By Pavel Felgenhauer

It's an old Soviet military custom to gather the whole of Russia's top brass in Moscow once a year at the end of November or early December for a meeting to review the year's achievements and outline future tasks.

With snow already in the fields, military training ceases as the troops prepare to survive another winter. At the same time, commanders of districts, fleets, air forces -- i.e. everyone of any significance -- gather in Moscow. The chiefs meet their Kremlin bosses, gossip, get drunk during friendly get-togethers and are given marks for their performance.

The first day of the meeting is traditionally attended by the head of state. It was at such an annual meeting in December 1991 that Soviet President Mikhail Gorbachev passionately pleaded for the military to intervene and save the Soviet Union from imminent disintegration.

The generals, however, were not moved. They saw Gorbachev as a traitor who had failed to support an attempt to resurrect full Communist rule in August 1991. It was also assumed that troops would not follow orders to shoot if sent to suppress by force the secession of former Soviet republics.

In 1991, the generals supported Russian President Boris Yeltsin, who was backed by the last Soviet Defense Minister Yevgeny Shaposhnikov. Yeltsin promised that a united Soviet military would be maintained despite the demise of the union, that soldiers' pay would rise etc. None of this happened, but the strategy of placating the military with empty assurances has continued to this day.

Until 2001, the press was only allowed to hear the president's opening remarks at these meetings. Since Sergei Ivanov took over as defense minister, journalists have also been allowed to hear the defense minister's address that often contains harsh criticism of the state of the country's armed forces. The other couple of days of deliberation, during which military chiefs take the podium, are closed.

Last week, President Vladimir Putin (as usual) praised the armed forces for "successfully solving arduous problems" and for carrying out more military training to increase battle readiness. Putin also agreed to subordinate two previously independent "parallel armies" to the Defense Ministry: the Railroad Troops and Spetsstroi (a highly secretive body in charge of building bunkers and nuclear installations). This administrative reform will increase the Defense Ministry's manpower by some 200,000 servicemen from the present 1,132,000.

Traditionally such mergers tend to be accompanied by massive graft. Both armies possess some nice real estate that could be privatized on the cheap and various supplies that could easily be written off and plundered during a takeover.

The military does not have any means to move tanks and most other heavy equipment by highway on truck-driven platforms as is done in the West. This explains why Russian roads are so notoriously bad: They were never considered a strategic asset. There is no trans-Russian federal highway, and not a single highway connects the Pacific Far East to the rest of the country -- only dirt tracks. But there are railroads connecting all possible theaters of war, and the military is equipped to use them for strategic mobility. This makes the Railroad Troops an indispensable service: They're supposed to keep the system working during war and enemy attack. The army fully depends on railroads, as Western armies did a century ago.

Last week, Ivanov scolded the military for not being battle-ready. Air force pilots fly too little and not a single squadron can fly into battle in full formation, meaning that Russia is not ready for a serious air campaign anywhere.

Over 80 percent of military equipment is outdated and out of order. Putin told the generals to prepare to fight the wars of the future, but how can this be achieved? The president announced that by 2008, the number of contract soldiers would reach 244,000. But today the military is already incapable of finding enough worthy volunteers.

After Putin and Ivanov, the top brass spoke out and -- as sources say -- they reported harsh facts about how grim things are within the military. This is another Russian tradition: The head honcho scolds his subordinates, who reply by explaining that they do not have much of anything and can do nothing.

In the end, no one actually gets ousted and nothing much changes, but everyone is happy: The blame for mishaps past and future has been shifted and responsibility confused. And on that note, it's farewell until the following year.

Pavel Felgenhauer is an independent defense analyst.