Chechen President Ramzan Kadyrov recently offered Akhmed Zakayev, usually considered a quite moderate representative of the North Caucasian insurgency, a safe return to Chechnya and a potential post in the Chechen administration. While Moscow does not consider Zakayev himself to be a dangerous figure, the offer strengthened Moscow’s concerns over Kadyrov’s increasing self-consciousness. Moreover, the issue has added to what Moscow perceives as a potentially harmful inspiration of Kadyrov’s example for the segments of Russian Muslims advocating increasing autonomy from the centre.  

 

BACKGROUND: Chechnya’s president Ramzan Kadyrov recently invited Akhmed Zakayev, a moderate representative of the militant opposition, to return to Chechnya. Kadyrov had promised him a comfortable, professional life and even a possible position in his government. Zakayev seemed ready to accept Kadyrov’s offer and engaged in several phone conversations with him. Still, he was a too important member of the Chechen diaspora to return with Kadyrov’s promise as the sole guarantee for his security. He remembered well that in 2004, after the Beslan massacre, the Kremlin regarded him as one of the key masterminds of terror in the North Caucasus and demanded his extradition from Great Britain. One of the major reasons why Zakayev decided not to leave London is possibly that Kadyrov’s promises were not accompanied by any official proclamation from Moscow.

But why is Moscow reluctant to provide amnesty to Zakayev? It is true that Zakayev was accused of terrorism, but this is also the case with thousands of Chechens who were given amnesty and now serve in Kadyrov’s paramilitary forces. Moreover, when the split between Zakayev and Movladi Udugov, one of the Chechen Wahhabist ideologists, became clear (Udugov later advocated the integration of North Caucasian insurgents into the global jihad and a refusal to compromise with the Kremlin), Russian authorities signaled that they actually viewed Zakayev as a moderate with whom they could negotiate. The semi-official Izvestia, for example, published a rather positive article about Zakayev. The author of the piece made it clear that he understood the emotional reasons for Zakayev to become a rebel. Zakayev was also presented as a highly cultured and intelligent man who abhorred the morally rotten émigré community, including Boris Berezovsky, the controversial Russian tycoon with whom Zakayev was associated. The implication of the article was that Zakayev is quite different from jihadists such as Udugov, and that his return to Russia was almost expected. But why did Moscow not provide Zakayev with a full pardon? In fact, the problem may be less associated with Zakayev than with the role of Kadyrov, and even more so, with the increasing assertiveness of the Russian Muslim community.

It is clear that global jihadism continues to be one of Moscow’s major concerns. Recently, certain Russian pundits expressed concern over what they describe as the “Talibanization” of the Northern Caucasus and the increasing influence of radical Islam among Russian Muslims. This prompted Russian President Dmitry Medvedev to state that Russian Muslims should be protected from harmful ideological influences from abroad. Yet, besides the jihadist front, there is also a concern about other groups of Russian Muslims who neither consider joining the universal jihad, nor call for the dissolution of the Russian Federation. There is no doubt that redistribution of power is favored by such groups, which in certain ethnic enclaves request maximum autonomy from Moscow. The renewed assertiveness of these Muslims groups was reflected in the recent public statement of Ravil Gainutdin, one of the leading Russian muftis. Gainutdin’s speech dealt with what seems to be an abstract historical subject — the role of Mongols/Tatars in the building of the Russian state.

IMPLICATIONS: The assumption that Mongols/Tatars had played a considerable role in the creation of the Russian state is hardly a novelty in the intellectual and political discourse of post-Soviet Russia. A happy Russian-Tatar/Mongol “symbiosis” has been emphasized by popular Eurasianists, ranging from the late Lev Gumilev to Alexander Dugin. Still, there are substantial differences between Gainutdin’s and Dugin’s “Eurasianisms”. For Dugin, the Mongols/Tatars played a critical role in the creation of the Russian state but then transferred the mission of building the mighty Eurasian empire to Orthodox Russians. Muslims of non-Slavic origin were relegated to the role of “younger brothers” in the ethnic/geopolitical arrangements. While Orthodox Russians remained the key element in Dugin’s Eurasianism, their role was even more strongly pronounced by the Russian nationalists, whose ideology has been much more influential than that of Dugin-style Eurasianists.

The nationalists rejected any idea of a “symbiosis” between Orthodox Russians and Muslims of various origins, and the implicit existence of a trans-ethnic or trans-cultural “Eurasian” nation. For them, Russia is the foremost state of Orthodox Russians and fully assimilated minorities. The origin of Russian statehood is not located in the capital of the Mongol Empire, Karakorum, as Eurasianists have insisted; but in Constantinople, the capital of Orthodox Byzantium. Gainutdin’s vision, however, opposed both the Russo-centric Byzantinism and Dugin’s Eurasianism. In his public speeches, Gainutdin proclaimed that the Mongols and Tatars had not only been the creators of the Russian state; they also passed the torch on to the Russians at a relatively late stage and actually guided the Russians for most of the sixteenth century. According to Gainutdin, their role in Russian civilization was much greater than anyone, including the Eurasianists, acknowledged. This vision of Russian history was fully supported by Abd al-Wahed Niazov, a Russian convert to Islam. He created his own Eurasian party at approximately the same time as Dugin, but contrary to Dugin emphasized the leading role of Muslims in the ethnic arrangement.

Gainutdin had quite a close relationship with Kadyrov and implicitly saw him as the Muslim leader whose example rearranged ethnopolitical relations in the country. In this respect, Gainutdin’s views were not off the mark. While placed in office by the Kremlin in 2004 as a way to “Chechenize” the conflict, Kadyrov consistently increased his power and showed less and less fear of Moscow. During the ethnic riots in Kondopoga in 2006, when local Chechens were evicted from the city, Kadyrov threatened to send his men to the city to protect the Chechens. At the same time, he continued to weed out all Chechen military and paramilitary detachments not directly under his command. Most important was the elimination of the “Vostok” (East) battalion, directly incorporated into the Russian army. It is this rise of Kadyrov’s power and his direct affiliation with those parts of the Muslim community craving a redistribution of power that explains Moscow’s reluctance to grant amnesty to the comparatively harmless Zakayev.

CONCLUSIONS: Zakayev’s return and acceptance of Kadyrov’s hegemony would increase Kadyrov’s prestige and further legitimize him in the eyes of not just the broad Chechen community but also the West. It would enhance his position as role model for increasingly assertive Muslim groups in Russia, which could in the future create similar problems for Moscow as the jihadists. This is the primary reason why Moscow prevented Zakayev’s return.

Kadyrov’s recent new overture toward Zakayev, a moderate nationalist member of the Chechen opposition, sparked serious concerns in Moscow. Moscow was apparently not happy with the prospect of Zakayev’s return, not because of any fear of Zakayev but because the Kremlin did not want to amplify the prestige and power of Kadyrov by increasing the numbers of those members of the Russian Muslim community who demand a redistribution of power.

AUTHOR’S BIO: Dmitry Shlapentokh is Associate Professor of History, Indiana University at South Bend.