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By Casey Michel
Author, journalist, and director of the Combating Kleptocracy Program at the Human Rights Foundation

Imagine Russia in 2030. Will it resemble today’s imperial kleptocracy? Will it be a Western-style democracy? Will the Russian Federation exist at all? As Russia’s unprovoked invasion of Ukraine continues, the questions of what comes next have never been more pertinent. However, while questions of future developments in Ukraine continue to dominate discourse in places like Washington and Brussels, far less attention has been paid to what comes next in Moscow, and across the Russian Federation. Indeed, the discussion of developments within—and policy surrounding—Russia’s potential future has been largely muted across the West. Even after former militia head Yevgeny Prigozhin’s failed 2023 putsch, serious discussion regarding potential Russian futures remained largely subdued.

But given the magnitude and fallout of Russia’s invasion, to say nothing of the ongoing threats that a revanchist Kremlin poses to the West and its allies elsewhere, this lack of discussion surrounding Russia’s potential future is increasingly inexcusable. As such, this essay will seek to rectify that inadequate oversight in the broader policy conversations about Russia’s path forward.

 
 
The scenarios
 
 
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These sections include potential developments leading to and through each scenario—imagining what such a scenario would entail—as well as how the West should respond strategically if the scenario comes to pass, as well as potential time horizons.

These scenarios should not be taken as necessarily exhaustive. Instead, these five scenarios should be treated as the five likeliest scenarios moving forward.

All five scenarios should be considered within Western capitals—and attendant policy tool kits should begin to be formulated in preparation of each potential scenario. While this will require efforts and exertion from Western policymakers, such efforts are necessary. After all, if there is one thing the rise of Putin’s regime has illustrated, it is that the West’s lack of broader Russian strategy—and the lack of preparation for potential openings in Russia—helped accelerate Moscow’s aggression and helped fuel the Kremlin’s irredentism. The more prepared the West can be for potential openings and potential evolutions in Russia moving forward, the better off all of us—including those in Russia—will be.

 
 
 
 
 

Scenario #2: Nationalists rising

Details: In June 2023, Putin faced arguably the greatest threat to his grip on power yet seen. Led by caterer-turned-warlord Yevgeny Prigozhin, members of the Wagner Group private military company effectively took control of the southern Russian city of Rostov-on-Don, before marching hundreds of kilometers toward Moscow. While the forces themselves never reached the Kremlin—and significant confusion remains regarding the march’s ultimate objective—the quasi-mutiny, quasi-putsch revealed just how thin the base of Putin’s support appeared. That is, even while Wagner forces hauled north, few Russians appeared willing to stand in their way. To butcher a phrase, the emperor may not have been naked, but he certainly appeared with far fewer clothes than previously assumed. This reticence to back Putin was made all the more stark by Prigozhin’s previous comments on the war in Ukraine, which slammed not only Russia’s military leadership but the entire rationale for invasion in the first place.

Of course, by late 2023, Putin remained in power, while Prigozhin and his inner circle exploded in spectacular fashion. Yet even with Prigozhin’s death, the shallowness of Putin’s support is not something that can simply be forgotten or washed away. Moreover, combined with Putin’s increasingly obvious strategic blunders in Ukraine—and the climbing death tolls as well as ongoing assaults on Russian territory proper—there’s little reason to think he’ll manage to shore up that support anytime soon.

All of which presents a recipe, and an opening, for success for the one contingent that has becoming increasingly vocal and increasingly strident in its criticisms of Putin’s leadership: Russian nationalists. Indeed, while some had seen Prigozhin as perhaps the most prominent far-right figure—and certainly the one who illustrated what such a contingent can achieve, both domestically and internationally—other prominent Russian nationalists persist within and outside the Kremlin.

Indeed, it’s not difficult to imagine a scenario in which Putin, beset and besieged over his continued failings in Ukraine, finds his domestic support continuing to waffle, and even potentially crumble. This is a man, after all, who wagered Russia’s future on an historically futile, stupid gesture. And everyone, despite the best efforts of Russian propaganda organs, can see it. Meanwhile, the Russian body politic has begun fracturing: frustrated veterans committees have expanded; unemployed Russian youths increasingly gravitate toward nationalistic rhetoric; and local politicians unable to pay for basic services turn toward a nationalistic populism to remain in power.

Unlike the last time Russia experienced a far-right coup attempt—in 1991, following the Soviet KGB’s failed effort to depose Mikhail Gorbachev—there is a clear constituency willing, even happy, to welcome the rise of a nationalistic regime to replace Putin’s kleptocracy. Such a scenario, thanks to Prigozhin, can no longer be dismissed. And should it succeed, it will replace Putin’s fascistic lurch with outright Russian fascism—predicated on restoring a mythical Russian “nation,” and targeting all enemies both domestic and foreign. The notion of a rossiskii nation-state—of a broader, heterogenous Russian Federation—would be summarily replaced by a focus on the russkii ethnos, and on a restoration of a purified, sacrosanct, ethnically Russian people.

Russia, these nationalists claim, will rise once more. Putin may have had the right designs, but he was too weak or too corrupted to see such a project to its completion. Now, these nationalists argue, they can restore Russia to its rightful place—and ethnic Russians to their rightful glory.

Strategy and policy prescriptions: As with the scenario in which Putin remains ensconced in power, the broader strategy and policy playbook for the rise of a far-right, nationalistic regime in Russia remains largely the same. The continuation and extension of sanctions; the retention of a price cap on Russian hydrocarbon exports; the seizure of Russian Central Bank assets as a means of funding Ukrainian reconstruction; the enhancement of NATO forward operability; and more. All the policy prescriptions outlined in Scenario #1 are applicable to Scenario #2—because any nationalistic regime will share broadly similar geopolitical contours and theories as Putin, especially as it pertains to a (perpetual?) standoff with the West.

Given the paucity of resources available to the Russian military, a rising nationalistic regime may, at least in the short term, prefer to freeze the conflict in Ukraine, if not pull back from certain pockets. Without the legitimacy of political capital to call for a nationwide mobilization, such a nationalistic regime may opt to avoid escalation with Ukraine and the West, while pinning the strategic failures in Ukraine on Putin.

Such a stand-down would provide ample opportunity for the West to expand its existing playbook, especially as it pertains to shoring up Ukrainian arms and defenses. Likewise, and arguably more so than if Putin simply remains in power, such a scenario would present the West with far greater openings to rebuilding and shoring up relations with Russia’s neighbors, especially those targeted by Russian nationalistic rhetoric. From Belarus to Georgia, from Armenia to Kazakhstan, the West can focus diplomatic and, to an extent, security-related efforts on strengthening links with these nations.

All the while, the West must recall that any such regime in Russia will only turn inward for a set period. Such a pullback—in Ukraine or elsewhere—would only be temporary, presenting a mere lull in conflicts in Europe. A quasi-détente could arise, but it would hardly last. And the West must prepare for when that détente crumbles and such nationalists turn outward once more. If anything, such a prospective reality harkens back to a strategy that once served the West well: containment, for as long as the regime may remain. After all, containment helped to hem in Soviet expansionism—and could once more help to rein in an expansionist Moscow.

Time horizons and likelihood: Given Prigozhin’s failure—and the consequences of such failure, not least his spectacular death—the likelihood of such a rightward putsch is arguably less than it was just a year ago. It also is possible that some would-be kings conclude from the Prigozhin affair that his mistake was not launching the coup, but calling it off. But even if the possibility of a coup has diminished, such a threat has hardly been eliminated. Absent other unanticipated events, it remains arguably the second-likeliest scenario over any time horizon. Indeed, as the Russian economy continues to deflate, and especially as Russian casualties continue to pile up in Ukraine, the likelihood of such a scenario increases over time.

Put another way: as Russia continues to fail and flail in Ukraine, the potential for a “stabbed in the back” scenario only gains ground. And it is that failure narrative that nationalists would use against Putin—and as a propellant to potential power, for years to come.

 
 
 
 
 

Scenario #4: Democratic Russia returns home

Details: Years after launching a series of bloody, futile wars across its former colonial space, protests erupt around the country, demanding change. Too many of the protesters’ compatriots had already died, carried home in coffins from lands no longer theirs. Global pressure, especially from the West, becomes too much to bear. And, with coffers draining, the national economy teeters, bringing back memories among the older generations of previous economic ruin. It is time for something new. It is time, at last, to put these neoimperial dreams to bed. And it is time, at last, for democracy.

For those who study comparative imperial formation and, especially, imperial collapse, it is a familiar story. It is a playbook that was seen in the British Empire, undone by Irish republicans in the 1910s and by Indian patriots in the 1940s. It is a story seen in France, battered by failures in Algeria and Vietnam in the mid-twentieth century. It is a story seen in Portugal in the 1970s, when the vestiges of Lisbon’s southern African empire finally achieved independence. It is a story that European empire upon European empire had already experienced, effectively killing off the vestiges of imperial sentiment and any remaining revanchist tendencies in the former empires.

And now, thanks to Ukraine’s victories, Putin’s cascading failures, and economic ruin in the offing, it is Russia’s turn to experience the story. And Russia, just as every former European empire elsewhere, does not disappoint. Indeed, there is plenty of reformist history for Russians themselves to build on. After all, some of the most remarkable moments of democratic change in Russian history—the end of serfdom in the 1860s, the creation of the Duma in the early 1900s—came after military defeats in foreign wars.

In echoes of similar movements in the 1980s and early 1990s, after another failed military adventure in Afghanistan, Russians witness failure in Ukraine, and once again march en masse for change. And not just in Moscow, but in Irkutsk and Vladivostok, in Tomsk and Arkhangelsk, over and over, gathering pace and force as they demand change. There is a world of disagreement: on economic policy, on judicial reform, on potentially joining an expanded European Union. But at their broadest, the protests center on three elements:

  • Decentralization: unwinding the presidential powers, and amending Russia’s 1993 constitution to restore federalism and local sovereignties.
  • Deconfliction: removing Russian armed backing of separatist polities in Moldova, Georgia, and especially Ukraine.
  • Democracy: in the form of free and fair elections, at both local and national levels.

It is all so immediate, so swift, that Western policymakers can’t wrap their minds around it. It is a redux of 1989, or even 1991. This time, though, it is predicated on Russia’s colonialist, neoimperial failures, there for all to see. And this time, it comes with authorities in Moscow finally taking responsibility for the Kremlin’s colonialist crimes and an overdue recognition of Russia’s colonial legacies.

The final European empire has, at last, crumbled. And a post-imperial—and democratic—Russia emerges, ready to rejoin its European family.

Strategy and policy prescriptions: This outcome is among the best the West could possibly envision—and should be the one to incentivize, encourage, and accelerate. Opening dialogue on sanctions relief, especially related to domestic political and economic reforms, is a must. Providing investigative resources, such that a new Russian government can further investigate the crimes of the Putin regime and its allies, can also expedite a project of lustration. Rather than seizing frozen Russian Central Bank assets, the West can predicate their return upon Moscow sending reparations to Ukraine. The United States should likewise push to open further consular offices across Russia, including in Grozny, Yakutsk, Saint Petersburg, and elsewhere. Throughout, the West should provide diplomatic support for a broad array of democratic reforms—including the potential independence referenda proposed by Russian authorities—and offer the aid of constitutional experts from other parliamentary, federal democracies, including Canada and Germany.

All the while, the West must not—absolutely must not—get overexcited about such shifts taking place in Russia. More directly, the West must be especially attuned to any revanchist, neoimperialist rhetoric or posturing from Moscow. Indeed, it can be argued that ignoring the revanchism percolating around Boris Yeltsin’s and Vladimir Putin’s early years helped blind the West to the later imperialism saturating the Kremlin. Navalny, for instance, has a clear record of chauvinistic, neoimperialistic comments regarding non-Russian populations and former Russian colonies. While Navalny has largely recanted such statements, the West must be ever vigilant about any comments or related policies gaining credence and traction in Moscow.

In other words, the West should follow a simple policy: trust, but verify. Only then will Russia firmly enter its postimperial phase—and Europe will, at last, become whole, united, and free.

Time horizons and likelihood: While this scenario cannot be dismissed, it is unfortunately unlikely over the near and medium term. Given the decimation of Russian opposition parties and leadership, as well as the clear dearth of support from the broader Russian body politic, any dreams of a thoroughly democratic Russia in the foreseeable future are mere illusions.

However, over a longer time horizon—measured perhaps in decades, rather than years—such an outcome only grows in likelihood. The postimperial trajectories of Portugal, Spain, France, and other former European empires took decades to reach their completion. There’s no reason to think that Russia won’t follow a similar trajectory—or that it won’t eventually find its way to its European home.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 

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