The failure of the first Chechen campaign and the outbreak of the second Chechen war are inextricably linked. The first Chechen conflict was sparked by a dangerous set of circumstances that had been fomenting in Moscow after the fall of the Soviet Union, fuelled by separatist rhetoric and anarchy in the North Caucasus.

       There were several key ingredients in this mix, and all proved highly intoxicating for a Russian state engaged in a rather confused search for a new identity. President Boris Yeltsin was then under growing pressure from the pro-war faction in Moscow and suffered often personal attacks from the Chechen separatist leadership. The whole world heard Dzhokhar Dudayev describe Russia as “a Satanic power” just before Moscow decided to send in the troops in late 1994. Of course, the Kremlin chief was haunted by the fear that secession in Grozny would lead to a string of separatist actions across the Caucasus. It may seem inevitable now, in hindsight, but the Federal government’s intervention lacked a clear strategy and failed to muster even a modicum of support among Russian people.

       Taken together, these proved decisive in guaranteeing it poor results, but there is also a sense in which the reverse was true. The way military action was conducted (or mishandled) necessarily put the Russian state on a much weaker footing, as one and a half years of confused and confusing actions were followed by a substantial capitulation. In any case, people were relieved when the deal between General Alexander Lebed and the Chechen forces’ leader Aslan Maskhadov laid the foundations for Russia’s withdrawal from Grozny in summer 1996. Russia withdrew from the republic later that year. There was no sense of accomplishment and nothing had been done to de-fuse the volatile situation. The effects of this inaction made itself felt against the backdrop of a post-war environment marred by decaying leadership in Moscow and authorities in Grozny that quickly proved unable to deliver on their promises of a new economic and political course, which was to have been carried out in cooperation with Moscow.

       This general sense of defeat was intensified when Chechen warlords quickly started to extend their rule, receiving external financial aid and exporting violence to other republics in the Caucasus in the name of a new Islamic nation. In the second half of the nineties the Chechen nationalism which had fuelled independence claims gradually gave way to a radical movement, whose rhetoric talked of creating, not just a separate Chechen entity, but a Muslim state. Terrorism became their lingua franca. A sense of heightened vulnerability, exacerbated by warlord-led attacks outside Chechen territory, by daily abductions and violence, by the ever more difficult living conditions for those ethnic Russians who remained in the republic: all this was the inheritance from Yeltsin’s policy of appeasement.

       When in August 1999, Shamil Basayev and – importantly – Saudi born Emir Khattab invaded Dagestan, declared their intention to export Islamic revolt, from Moscow’s perspective a new war became inevitable. But it was not simply about restoring control across the region. It was about a new Russian leader – Vladimir Putin – giving a clear signal to his countrymen that the time of capitulation had passed.

       This second campaign was perceived by Russian public opinion in a totally different light, but years after reaching the “mission accomplished” point, Russia still faces a grave extremist threat in the Caucasus. Chechnya today has seen a great deal of reconstruction work, and anyone who saw the misery left by two conflicts in a decade would find it virtually unrecognizable. Rebel groups have been pushed out into surrounding territories. This transformation was to a great extent rooted in financial support from Moscow and a pact with President Ramzan Kadyrov.

       Meanwhile, Ingushetia and Kabardino-Balkaria have continued to fuel conflict, raising the spectre of new large-scale military operations and feeding scepticism about investment plans for the region, despite the upcoming Winter Olympic Games that Sochi is hosting. That said, investment is the key to the definitive normalization in the North Caucasus. What seems to be needed, after years of regional budgets dependent on direct injections of federal funds, is realistic and sustainable investment, concrete projects on a smaller scale than those promised ($140 billion over 2012-25, according to the recently unveiled regional development project), but which are still capable of giving people jobs, a sense of change, a chance. This perspective on life is still, in these southern lands, virtually imperceptible. Moscow, now more than ever, has to prove it is not time to capitulate.

       Views expressed are of individual Members and Contributors, rather than the Club's, unless explicitly stated otherwise.