The grim legacy of 90s Russia and Putin’s rise

“Back to the 90s.” In the past three weeks, this phrase was repeated multiple times by (the remnants of) Russian independent media, political and economic analysts, and various Telegram channels. In my native Russia, the turbulent 90s are a synonym of political and social instability, soaring inflation, shortages of basic necessities, mass poverty coexisting with the speedy enrichment of the elite and gang wars.

A repetition of the 90s – or a complete blackout - is where the aggressor country is heading, following the barbaric invasion of Ukraine. This scenario is as terrifying as it is ironic, since the troubled legacy of the era is key to understanding Putin’s popularity.

I cannot begin to imagine how the refugees feel, or what it is like to hide from bombs in basements, starving and dehydrated while others are dying. Although I have been exposed to my veteran grandparents’ wartime stories, I have never experienced war firsthand. Surviving a socio-economic catastrophe, however, sounds familiar. As a person whose childhood and adolescence happened in 90s Russia, I understand very well the grim future awaiting millions.

On 24 February, Vladimir Putin waged two ‘special operations’ simultaneously – on Ukraine and on Russia’s civilian population. One is fought with airstrikes and troops, the other – with repressions and poverty. Do not get me wrong, I do not mean that the two are of equal monstrosity. Nothing compares to the horrors of war. However, while the harrowing reality of the victims in Ukraine is well-documented for everyone to empathise with, the misery of ordinary Russians may appear negligible. Allow me to challenge this perception, based on my memories.

Russia in the 90s: Surviving the Blackout

In the early 90s, the reforms of Boris Yeltsin during the dissolution of the Soviet Union hit us brutally. The transition from planned economy to free market was done hastily, liberalising prices, kickstarting record inflation and resulting in millions losing their lifetime savings. At the same time, shortages of basic necessities meant empty shelves, food tickets and hundred metres long queues.

Food tickets did not guarantee dinner. Oftentimes, we returned empty-handed, after hours of queueing, not certain what exactly was on sale. Sugar, butter, tea, and coffee became luxuries.

Neither was bread easily available. I recall queueing for it, too, wondering how much it would cost when it’s my turn. The price of bread went up and up, doubling every few weeks.

The inflation smashed records. In 1992-1993, the price of everything increased ten to thirteen fold, while state factories laid off workers, causing mass unemployment. Those lucky not to lose their job remained unpaid for months. My mother was among those ‘lucky’ ones. Fortunately, my pensioner grandparents supported mum and me. Their priority membership at a specialised food store for WWII veterans diversified our austere diet with liver sausages, canned meat and spaghetti, the latter being humanitarian help from Italy.

The struggle was all too real, but it was not the worst part. At least, the misery was shared, and neighbours supported each other, bartering matches for fabric, condensed milk for medicines. Cigarettes were the most stable currency. The worst, however, was how entrepreneurial folks capitalised on our misery and confusion. They sold us expired food at the highest price possible – a direct outcome of the liberalisation of prices and trade.

Regular power cuts and criminality were another signature of the era. Despite the praise from the Western media as the decade of freedom, democracy and business opportunities, the 90s are best remembered as the epoch of gang wars for the control over various economic sectors.

Although privatisation reforms turned sour for the majority, they were a golden opportunity to some. The decade of Yeltsin’s rule churned out oligarchs and the new super rich, who transformed the country’s mineral resources into their private assets.

This was Russia at the end of the second millennium: a gargantuan rift between millions living below the poverty line and the elite. Wars in Chechnya kept the people in the cities in fear of terrorist attacks by separatists; the wars further drained the already tight budget, displaced civillians, caused death and destruction. The August 1998 default buried any hope for economic recovery.

A Road to Autocracy

The formal narrative of the era starkly contrasts with the description above. According to Western media, Yeltsin’s presidency was the flicker of democracy and freedom, unappreciated by Russians, who, supposedly, are genetically prone to autocracy. This line of thought is prejudiced. During the ‘democratic’ transition, freedom of speech happened to coincide with savage free market capitalism. Many mistook the latter for democracy and didn’t like it: liberties on their own pay no bills, nor do they put food on the table.

Embarrassment and humiliation – these two words accurately express the sentiments of ordinary Russians watching their ever drunk president at formal international meetings. In the aftermath of losing the Cold War, citizens of a former superpower interpreted Yeltin’s friendly relationship with the US as subservient. Wounded national pride could be another reason behind Putin’s initial popularity.

After a decade of instability and dire poverty, Yeltsin’s handpicked heir Vladimir Putin appeared promising. He gained popular support after (selective) cracking down on powerful oligarchs of his predecessor (Yukos case) and reestablishing state control over oil and gas reserves. The high prices of fossil fuels subsequently benefitted his internal economic policy.

Russia’s path to autocracy cannot be reduced to the population’s chilling memories of the 90s. Other factors such as the flawed constitution, written specifically to advance Russia’s first president, and the support of siloviki (Russian security forces) institutionally enabled concentration of power in the hands of one person.

Considering that the country is ‘back to the 90s’, albeit without the liberties of Yeltsin’s era, hope now lies with those voices rejecting the military aggression, conservative politics and nationalism. The country’s own grassroots protest movement means that democracy in Russia stands a chance.