The show of force in Ukraine was played as Russias greatest moment since the second world war. But its a risky strategy

Much of the current tension between Russia and the west is a consequence of Vladimir Putins decision to send troops into Ukraine, 3 years ago this week. In truth, however, that deployment was a reaction to Putins own dreads of growing western influence in eastern Europe.
In the winter of 2011 -2 012, Russia insured its largest protests since the 1990 s. Provoked by the blatant scam of the 2011 Russian legislative elections, and by Putins decision to run for president again after four years of using Dmitry Medvedev as a figurehead, the protesters formed an unlikely coalition: scruffy leftists, cosmopolitan liberals, strident nationalists and disgruntled workers. Tens of thousands of protesters gathered in central Moscow in sub-zero temperatures, white ribbons on their lapels.
Russia have all along been dreaded the possibility of a pro-democracy colour revolution on its own province, having watched in horror as mass protests subverted regimes in the former Soviet nations of Georgia in 2003, Ukraine in 2004 and Kyrgyzstan in 2005. Putin and the state-controlled media depicted these movements as western conspiracies, CIA plots funded by George Soros. For Putin, the latter are threats to Russias regional authority and stability, which had already been ravaged by the autumn of the Soviet Union, as well as threats to his personal power.
It was unsurprising, then, when Moscow moved swiftly to quash Russias nascent snowfall revolution, as it was being called by some English-language journalists. Repression came in the form of beatings and violent dispersals, arrests of opposition leaders and protesters on trumped-up charges, indicate trials of protesters most famously of Pussy Riot and farther curtailments of the already limited freedoms of the press, speech and assembly.
But Putins efforts to head off a potential colouring revolution move beyond repression to a campaign that might have been called Make Russia great again, aimed at constructing a positive sense of Russian identity. Through a strategic combination of propaganda and geopolitical aggressivenes, Putins government promoted a narrative meant to bolster patriotism, and Russian xenophobia and paranoia along with it.
By the end of 2013, the Russian opposition movement had fallen apart, but Putin had a new headache: the Maidan revolution in neighbouring Ukraine, a massive, largely nonviolent protest movement that occupied central Kiev for months, and culminated in the flight of Ukraines Russia-friendly president, Viktor Yanukovych, in February 2014.
This began as a response to Yanukovychs refusal to sign an EU association agreement. Therefore, as far as Putin was concerned, it signified yet another western encroachment on his sphere of influence. The world seemed to be closing in on Russia.
But Putin was prepared. Defining in motion a scheme that had clearly been developed in advance, polite little green humen in military gear without insignia swarmed over the peninsula of Crimea. In just days, with almost no bloodshed, Ukrainian troops on the peninsula had been contained or won over, Crimean politicians had been induced to dissolve the parliament and replace the prime minister with a is part of Crimeas Russian Unity party, and the region had been reunited with Russia. The Russian propaganda machine was already in overdrive, convincing the Russian populace, as well as the dwellers of Crimea and eastern Ukraine, that post-Maidan Kiev was a fascist junta led by bloodthirsty Ukrainian patriots who planned to exterminate Russian speakers, crucify Russian children, and so on.
State-controlled media pushed the idea that the return of Crimea to Russia was the greatest moment in Russian history since victory over the Nazis in 1945, the lodestone of postwar Russian identity, the misfortune and triumph that united the Soviet people. Putins flagrant violation of international law and the postwar order, through the annexation of Crimea, was an aggressive move to return to a world in which Russia was still an international superpower, filling its citizens with patriotic pride. Russians crowed, Krym nash ! Crimea is ours!
Russias annexation of Crimea returned post-Soviet Russia to a narrative of imperial glory that stretched back to the days of Kievan Rus, the medieval state that was the precursor of both Russia and Ukraine. In the 10 th century, the great conqueror Prince Vladimir of Kiev converted his people to Christianity after being baptised, it is said, at the ancient Greek settlement of Chersonesus, in Crimea. The peninsula was thus the symbolic starting point of Russias membership of the Christian world. And it was Crimea that Catherine the Great annexed from the Ottoman empire without firing a single shooting asserting Russias new place as one of the worlds greatest civilisations.
Of all the losses that accompanied the end of the Soviet Union, Crimea was perhaps the most haunting for Russia. As part of his quest to restore lost Russian glory, Putin picked up where Catherine the Great and Prince Vladimir had left off. After annexing the peninsula in March 2014, Putin announced that Crimea was the spiritual source of the Russian nation. This gave Crimea invaluable civilisational and even sacral significance for Russia. Putin underlined his phase last November, when he unveiled a 16-metre statue of Prince Vladimir outside the Kremlin.
Though it is somewhat difficult to gauge true public opinion in Russia, it does seem clear that Putins campaign to build Russia great again has been a ringing success, at the least for domestic approving ratings. The fragile coalition of the 2011 -2 013 protest motion transgressed apart easily, with opposition leaders prosecuted on false charges. Boris Nemtsov, one of the leaders of the liberal opponent, was shot down right outside the Kremlin in 2015.
Today a Russian colour revolution is virtually unthinkable. State propaganda has been remarkably successful in whipping up hysteria. It helped when US and European sanctions hurt the Russian economy and raised food prices; these misfortunes which have hit the middle and lower classes much harder than they have hit oligarchs encourage the Russian people to consider the west as an implacable enemy. A wedge has been firmly driven between Russias small, cosmopolitan liberal upper-clas and its more patriot or proletarian elements. For now, Putins neo-imperial historical fantasia has bought him period, providing many citizens with a sense of national pride that has been painfully lacking in the post-Soviet era.
But there are still wild cards at play. The stoking of Russian nationalist sentiment in eastern Ukraine has required a delicate balance. Not all of the separatists there have absorbed the message that Russian nationalism is a means to an aim; some are true disciples, posing another danger to Putin, who is ultimately a cynic milking globalisation and nationalist and Soviet nostalgia for all theyre worth. As their standard of living continues to deteriorate, Russians are increasingly resentful of their blatantly debases politicians and bureaucrats.
For the moment, Putin is taking a leaf out of Stalins book, blaming every problem on external adversaries, internal wreckers or incompetents. It remains to be seen how long this can last amid the economic unravelling.
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