Share, , Google Plus, Pinterest,

Print

Understanding Prigozhin

Prigozhin is a Putin construct and illustrates underlying Russian structural deficiencies including indulgence of oligarchs and a dysfunctional relationship  between the public and private sectors that I recall from my time there. 

By Conor Lenihan.

The Russian government has gone to enormous lengths to maintain an illusion of business as usual on the domestic front, but Prigozhin offers a rare insight into the power struggles still raging beneath the apparently tranquil surface.

Writing about the invasion of Ukraine in the early days, I predicted that one way or the other, it would unleash another power struggle within the Kremlin, however well-masked from prying western eyes. That Prigozhin would be the one to stage the uprising, coup or as he called it ‘march for justice’, was not initially obvious.

There are historical and sociological reasons for the rise of Prigozhin.

Yevgeny Prigozhin must be framed against the reality that in Russia important roles at the highest levels are  filled by people who got there dysfunctionally – Yeltsin oligarchs, Putin oligarchs silivoki; and now Prigozhin, the criminal chef who turned insurgent.

Before Putin came to power 23 years ago, it was never quite clear who was running the country – Boris Yeltsin, or the insiders and cronies who had taken ownership of previously publicly owned oil, gas and commodity, resource-based companies in the chaotic, crash-course transition to fledgling democracy. This situation whereby these wealthy oligarchs – often referred to as the “Yeltsn family” – effectively ran the Russian government caused much discomfort to the newly ascendant Putin. It was an early hallmark of the new regime that he set about reversing the nature of the relationship between the Russian Federation’s government and the oligarchs, many of whom either sat in the state Duma (parliament) or actually owned dozens of members – almost like proxy voters in a public company.

In July 2000,  Putin brought the country’s top oligarchs into a meeting that was beamed out live on television where he formally warned them that if they interfered in politics and media via their ownerships, he – Putin – or the State would come after them.  Present at the meeting was one Mikhail Khodorkovsky owner of the one of the richest oil companies in Russia (Yukos). Khodorkovsky seemed to have ignored the warning and ended up in jail with his companies stripped and re-allocated either to the state or friends of the regime.

Putin introduced his own system where the relationship between him and the Oligarchs became one of Servant-Master and he was the Master.

Putin reversed the nature of the relationship between the Russian Federation’s government and these extraordinarily wealthy oligarchs many of whom either sat in the state Duma (parliament) or actually owned dozens of members almost like proxy voters in a public company. Putin introduced his own system where the relationship between him and the Oligarchs became one of Servant-Master and he was the Master.

Added to his own “new money” oligarchs came a set of people largely drawn from the state sector called “ silivoki” a polite terms for middle or senior ranking state employees with an emphasis on those from the state security apparatus – the KGB, GRU and other such agencies.

These “siloviki” were everywhere in the private companies and state organisations that I came into contact with, and the power they wielded was significant. Within Russian company these operators act as protectors for their patrons and in business terms have an uncanny way of both penetrating the often hazardous and slightly impenetrable Russian state bureaucracy.

In 2011, after the loss of my Dáil seat, I had been invited by  Viktor Vekselberg to become a vice-president of the Skolkovo Foundation – a $10 billion innovation project which was Moscow’s effort to build its own Silicon Valley and lessen the dependence on oil, gas and commodities. Vekselberg himself has been on the US sanctions list since the annexation of Crimea in 2014. The foundation employed  dozens of siloviki, typically well-connected former intelligence agents, and at least one former KGB General.

The point is that in Russia important roles at the highest levels are  filled by people who got there dysfunctionally – Yeltsin oligarchs, Putin oligarchs and silivoki.


Yevgeny Prigozhin must be framed against this dysfunctionality though he is not rich enough to quality as a an oligarch in the usual sense. He is part of an elite spawned through corruption, nepotism and violence. Putin exploits this system and depends on it to consolidate his leadership and control of Russia.

He is Putin’s creation. He derived his massive Wagner mercenary army, not from ownership of oil and gas resources, but from direct friendship with Putin. He rose from criminal, to hot dog seller, and eventually created a catering company that supplied not just the Kremlin, but also the Russian army. It was a small jump to supply paid mercenaries in 2014, renting them out to regimes in Africa and the Middle East who for one reason or another needed military muscle. The Wagner operation became a “discreet offering” from the Russian state to friendly allies like Assad in Syria and General Haftar in Libya. In a way, Prigozhin’s own story is emblematic of the state built by Putin.

So it is a profound irony that he became a putative coup leader himself. This accounts for the clear look of fear and anger in Putin’s face during the live broadcasts in which he pledged to crack down on the coup and the coup leaders themselves.

With Prigozhin speeding up the road to Moscow, Putin chose to offer him a way out – a safe haven in Belarus in a clearly staged intervention by his close ally Aleksandr Lukashenko. One member of the Russian Duma was heard to remark that Prigozhin deserved to get “a bullet in his head” rather than a comfortable exile arrangement. The Russian public will have been alarmed at the instability of those two days where the past once again seemed possible. 

Still, the immediate consequence of the failed mutiny will be to strengthen Vladimir Putin and lead to a re-doubling of the Russian war effort in Ukraine. But Putin is not a young man anymore and the inherent instability of both the war in Ukraine and his own visible vulnerability will not be lost on those within his own power bubble who might want to replace him.

It is clear that Prigozhin – despite his increasingly unhinged Telegram rants in recent months – was not a deranged rebel leader flinging himself headlong up the highway to Moscow. He believed he had support, which did not materialise. Prigozhin would have found out on the road to Moscow that the Russian public were not joining him, let alone some of the key insiders he might otherwise have relied upon.

He has failed in his attempts to have the Russian top military brass removed and have his Wagner organisation removed from direct supervision by the Russian army command. Prigozhin has been nursing an intense hatred for the head of the military, Valery Gerasimov, and the Defence Minister Sergei Shoigu. This rivalry and mutual mistrust was encouraged by Putin on the basis that, as long as they’re fighting each other, they won’t be challenging him.

The reason that he does not already have that bullet in his head is that Vladimir Putin needs the Wagner fighting men, even if he no longer needs Prigozhin.

The reason that he does not already have that bullet in his head is that Vladimir Putin needs the Wagner fighting men, even if he no longer needs Prigozhin. The Wagner soldiers might not fight so effectively with their leader ruthlessly killed.

In the medium term, Putin has been weakened, but in the short term the prospects for the Russian military effort in Ukraine may actually be strengthened. The 2,500 to 5,000 troops who took part in the mutiny may join Prigozhin in Belarus where Alexander Lukashenko has offered the use of an abandoned military camp. But it seems probable the  other 20,000 Wagner soldiers may become a seamless and integrated part of the Russian military. That would deliver some significant efficiency gains. 

The Russian use of mercenaries is in itself a telltale criticism of the system of mixed state-capitalism introduced by Putin. The reason that Wagner has become a serious resource is because Russian army morale is low, diminished by frequent plundering of its resources by its own corrupt generals.

Putin may rue the day he failed to take note of Machiavelli’s advice concerning mercenaries in his book ‘The Prince’ where he warned that they become“ disunited, ambitious and without discipline”. The war is throwing up all sorts of disconcerting reminders of the system and manner in which Russia is run.

Conor Lenihan is a former Minister for Science, Technology & Innovation and Vice President of the Skolkovo project, a Moscow-based innovation hub.

Loading