The mistral, a strong, cold wind that wreaks havoc in spring in Provence and the valleys of the Rhone, is formed when an Atlantic anticyclone meets with a North Sea cyclone. The clash of large air masses creates powerful gusts that can uproot trees. The French helicopter carrier of the same name has lived up to its designation and caused a deep conflict of interests.
Fyodor Lukyanov comments on the failure of a military and technical experiment between Russia and a leading NATO nation.
This week, it seemed that a line has been drawn under the long-running saga. The transfer of the first amphibious assault ship to Russia was postponed due to instability in eastern Ukraine. And since the ongoing conflict there is unlikely to be settled any time soon, the contract cannot be expected to be fulfilled on time (the maximum permissible delay for the delivery is mid-February).
The most interesting experiment in establishing military and strategic ties between Russia and a key NATO country is ending in failure. It will be a long time before the next attempt can be made.
There was some controversy as to whether the Russian Navy needed Mistral-class ships, both before and after the deal was signed. The upshot of the debate is that most commentators wondered why it was started in the first place. Now it is clear that the idea was exclusively political, only indirectly linked to genuine defense capability. Granted, the project was launched in one situation and is closed in another. The goal, too, has turned out to be opposite to the one intended.
The agreement that France will build two Mistral-class ships for the Russian Navy and then another two will be built in Russia under license was made public in late 2010. The final contract was signed half a year later.
It was the height of the reset in relations between Russia and the West: a new Russian-US START treaty has been signed and ratified; the tortuous negotiations on Russia’s admission to the WTO have come to an end; and “partnership for modernization” is being actively discussed with the EU.
Meanwhile, Europe and America are in a state of suspense, waiting for the decision on whether Dmitry Medvedev, a nice person in every respect, will stay on for another term or whether Vladimir Putin will return to the throne.
The wish to see the third, not the second, president of Russia as a partner is so strong that some Western politicians, contrary to all rules, do not even hesitate to speak about that in public, and informally recommend this option to the Kremlin. The page of the “five day war” of 2008 has practically been turned. Stormy protests in Eastern Europe over Paris’s intention to clinch an unprecedented military and technical deal with Moscow are ignored. Washington is displeased, and so informs France, but nothing more than that.
In Russia, despite the controversy and protests, “Serdyukov’s” military reform is ongoing, and the plan to purchase serious military equipment from “a potential adversary” makes sense primarily in this context, not in terms of enhancing the country’s fighting capability. After the military reform, the defense minister is set to deal with the system of state defense contracts and the military and industrial complex. The idea is to send a message to domestic arms makers that their monopoly status is not there to stay, and that many things can be purchased cheaper on the world market.
A year and a half after the Mistral contract, Serdyukov lost his post, not in the least for this very reason: The defense industry proved to be more than the ambitious minister could handle.
However, there were also other reasons. Despite the incantations about a “strategic partnership” with the West, deep mutual mistrust was still alive. It proved impossible to overcome it by political methods. Quite the contrary, the gap between rhetoric and action (NATO enlargement, termination of the ABM Treaty, and Russia’s intransigent position on its neighbors) grew, causing acute irritation. At that point, an idea emerged of taking advantage of globalization, i.e., cementing the relations with a commercial interest, which would create a situation of positive interdependence, moreover, not only in the energy sector, and not even simply in machine-manufacturing, but in the “holy of holies:” the military and technical sphere.
France was a suitable partner for Russia. Nicolas Sarkozy was not a friend of the Kremlin’s, unlike, at certain stages, his Italian or German counterparts. However, being a business-like and enterprising person, he was able to get on the same wavelength with his interlocutors in Moscow: both with Vladimir Putin and with Dmitry Medvedev. Thanks to that, he was able to play a useful peacemaking role during the 2008 Russian-Georgian conflict. At home, Sarkozy was just entering a new electoral cycle, and a major deal with a new partner, which would provide extra budget revenues and a significant number of jobs for shipbuilders, was highly opportune.
The lucrative deal did not help Sarkozy keep his post, and three years later everything fell through. Amid an acute crisis between Russia and the West over Ukraine, the Mistral project turned into a bad headache for Paris and a subject of thinly veiled glee in Moscow. Sophisticated maneuvers by the Elysee Palace in a bid to prove that the delivery of the modern Vladivostok and Sevastopol helicopter carriers was not at odds with France’s strong condemnation of Russia turned into a kind of a comedy show.
The entire world is watching Paris being torn between “filthy lucre” and “principles,” coming almost under ostracism from its East European NATO allies and outright pressure from Washington.
All of this is happening amid the signs of approval from rivals: France’s decision to terminate a deal that has already been paid for will have a negative effect on its reputation among its clients in military and technical cooperation across the world. Furthermore, given the deplorable state of the French economy and the record low popularity of Francois Hollande, the losses sustained by the manufacturers and the disappearing jobs are doing little to improve the socialist president’s election prospects.
Russia has no intention to help France out without losing face. In the post-Crimean world, Moscow is definitely not going to rely on NATO states in anything that can affect its security.
Moreover, the very principle that emerged half a century ago, during the Cold War, namely that trade and business serve as a shock absorber for political conflicts, has now been called into question. Today, it is more of a weapon. Of course, Russia is pleased that, while remaining strictly in the bounds of the law and the existing agreement, it can make fun of France, which is trapped in a conflict of interests. But this is probably the first and last example of this kind. No one will want to repeat this experience.
Before the Ukrainian crisis, Sarkozy and Hollande’s activity with regard to Russia was designed to invigorate business ties in order to catch up with Germany and then, who knows, surpass it. Paris has always been a little jealous of the successes of Bonn/Berlin, whose relations with Moscow since the 1960s were based on the solid foundation of German exporters’ interest in the eastern market. Now this is changing as well.
The cancellation of the St. Petersburg Dialogue meeting, and now its declared reformatting in the direction of greater criticism of Russia mark a symbolic departure from the model as such.
The St. Petersburg Dialogue, a forum of civil societies, was a fa？ade for strong business ties that significantly influenced the German government’s course, if not predetermined it. The Ukraine confrontation showed that German business, which is naturally unhappy about the sanctions, has to yield to Angela Merkel’s political course. For her part, she is guided by considerations of “another Germany,” one that is determined to play a leading role in Europe, not just being a “cash cow for everyone.”
In theory, Paris could fill the niche, but France will not dare go against the consolidated Western opinion. Meanwhile, Russia is quickly reorienting toward China and other Asian partners, losing interest in multi-step moves on the European playing field. Symbolically, Moscow recently acknowledged for the first time that South Stream may not be built. Until now this has been a matter of principle, but if the Old World increasingly sees Russian energy supplies as an instrument of subversion, while the eastern market is prepared to absorb more, [Russia’s] interest in sophisticated intrigues with Sofia, Budapest and Vienna governments is declining.
This is no longer just a succession of cyclones and anticyclones. It looks more like a fundamental climate change.
This article was originally published in Russian on www.gazeta.ru
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