All of this has come to a head in the past few months on two issues where, suddenly, the Russian view really matters-Syria and Ukraine. On Syria, a Western policy based on the assumption that Assad was just another Arab dictator who could swiftly be sent the same way as Mubarak and Gaddafi was derailed both by Western public resistance to any further intervention in the Middle East, and by the realisation (quicker in Russia than elsewhere) that Assad was more likely to be replaced by jihadists than liberal democrats. The result was a humiliating mess in which, in the deftest piece of Russian diplomacy I have seen in 20 years of dealing with the country, Russia pulled the West's chestnuts out of the fire by first refocusing the debate on the (essentially diversionary) question of chemical weapons, and secondly, getting their client Assad along to what looks likely to be a very protracted "peace process"-giving him a lot more space to pursue victory on the ground.

 

The issue of Ukraine is in many ways even more interesting. Russia's efforts to create a "Eurasian Union", in competition with the EU, constitute the most strategic Russian pushback against Western influence since the end of the Cold War. And Ukraine's very close social, historical and economic links with Russia (think England and Scotland) make it the key domino. Russia pulled out all the stops to pull Ukraine to its side of the fence, and, at the last moment, looked as if it had succeeded. Given the domestic turmoil this has produced in Ukraine the ultimate outcome remains in doubt, but it has been a compelling demonstration of Russia's weight and will to protect its position in what it still regards as its sphere of influence. As this article went to press, the pro-Russian Yanukovych government was attempting to crush the Ukrainian opposition by force. The extent of Russian responsibility for the bloodshed in Kiev was unclear, but there may be long-term consequences for relations between the Kremlin and the West, each of which blamed the other for the violence.

Confronted with these two Russian foreign policy coups the reaction of most of the Western commentariat has been to dismiss them. They have pointed out that Russia is an authoritarian petro-state with few real international friends, an increasingly sclerotic and corrupt economy, and a declining population. The external influence of such an entity, they argue, must surely be on the wane. Ukraine and Syria are no more than the final sparks of an expiring supernova.

 

The premises here are right, but the conclusion does not follow. Certainly stagnation is what most commentators foresee for Russia in the near future (the favourite reference is Brezhnev's dreary 1970s). The Putinian system of governance-where elections are manipulated, regime insiders give their loyalty in exchange for the licence to steal, big business operates in close cahoots with the government, and popular support is bought with hydrocarbon profits-has lost its economic mojo. This does not mean that revolution is in prospect; the clampdown following the demonstrations of two years ago has seen to that-and indeed has given Putin the political self-confidence to release Russia's best-known political prisoner, Mikhail Khodorkovsky. But there is still a problem. As the funds for internal graft run down, so tensions within the regime will become harder to manage, perhaps impossibly so. Putin himself has acknowledged the need for reform. But he knows very well that the changes needed-less official rapacity, stronger property rights, impartial rule of law-would themselves subvert the system they were designed to save. He is in a trap-which would turn lethal if, for example, there were a sharp downturn in hydrocarbon prices. Barring some very dramatic change in the way he runs Russia, the best he can hope for is, indeed, stagnation.