At past sessions of the Valdai club, which for eight years has convened foreign and Russian academics and journalists for discussions about Russian affairs, the foreigners have generally been the sharper critics of Vladimir Putin’s rule.  This year, on the second day of meetings on the outskirts of Kaluga, a historic provincial capital 90 miles southwest of Moscow, one Russian participant (the ground rules are that speakers not be named) rose and noted with some surprise, “The only ones who have spoken well of Putin at this conference have been the foreigners!”  “Spoken well” may be an exaggeration for what the foreigners said of the Russian leader. But in any case, two Russian participants who had conspicuously defended Putin quickly raised their hands to remonstrate. “I didn’t say anything bad of him,” said one.  “I said ‘spoke well,”’ noted the first speaker.  “Now you’re creating problems for me,” the defender said to a round of laughter.  The exchange was telling for two reasons. One, of course, was that a group of Russians from prominent institutions, some directly linked to the government, were almost all openly dismayed over the stagnation, corruption and inertia that have become the hallmarks of Putin’s rule.  Second, there was that ironic quip about “creating problems.” In the Soviet era, criticizing the paramount leader before a group of Westerners would have created terrible problems. No longer. “Today,” said a Russian academic, “it’s simply no longer fashionable to speak positively of Putin.”  Indeed, while the national television networks have been brought under the Kremlin’s heel, the Internet is filled with the most outspoken discussions and political satire. So are the newspapers and journals aimed at intellectual elites.  The explanation offered by the Russians was that Putin and his crowd simply don’t care what the intelligentsia says or thinks, especially to one another. This, explained the academic, was Putin’s “soft authoritarianism”: “You can say anything you want.”  For many of the Russians, the most glaring example of the rulers’ disdain for public opinion was the way Putin and President Dmitri Medvedev had announced on Sept. 24 that they were again changing places after presidential elections in March, which Putin is certain to win.  Though few sophisticated Russians ever doubted that Putin was the top dog in the Kremlin whether he was president or prime minister, what grated was that the swap was presented as a done deal, with no apparent consultation, even with Putin’s own party.  Medvedev had at least offered the semblance of a more democratic alternative, especially with his condemnations of corruption and his championship of modernization.  Now the uncertainty was over — but with it any glimmer of hope for change in the foreseeable future. “The elite is moving away from Putin,” said one participant, “but now it has nowhere to go.”  It has become customary for the Valdai gatherings to conclude with an on-record session with Putin (and in the past, though not this time, with Medvedev). Putin received the group in the curious setting of the restaurant of a luxurious horse-riding club outside Moscow, apparently selected because it is near his residence.  The meeting opened with a candid report on the group’s deliberations delivered by Timothy Colton, a professor at Harvard, who told the prime minister that a majority of the participants would agree that “the present model of government, which took shape in Russia in the last 10 or 12 years, appears to have exhausted its potential or is about to reach that point.”  Then, while waiters served several courses and fine Italian wines, Putin (sipping only tea), held forth for more than three hours. His main thrust was that it takes time and political stability to build institutions. He spoke of how in the years of his rule, Russia had emerged from the chaos of the 1990s, raised living standards and restored security. “If someone doesn’t like it, it’s a pity,” he said.  Given that he now might remain in power until 2024, Putin was asked, what would he do to ensure continuity in Russia? “It’s too early to organize my funeral,” he replied with a smile. “Don’t expect me to stand still. We will look at the country again in five, six, 10 years. We want internal political stability, a natural transfer of power.”  To illustrate the advantages of stability, he pointed to his “good friend” Silvio Berlusconi. Though Berlusconi had just been compelled to step down after bringing Italy to the brink of economic disaster, Putin declared that he was a true political giant — “definitely one of the last Mohicans in European politics.” “His staying in power for so long,” he added, “is evidence of internal political stability.”
Under the soft authoritarianism of Vladimir Putin, criticism goes unheeded and unpunished, as he demonstrated recently at a dinner with his critics.