Ukraine: a model for disassembly

Hostile whirlwinds are blowing over us


Song

A unique political model has been created in Ukraine that has no analogues in the world. It is equally distant from democracy and dictatorship and finds itself, if one may say so, in a different plane. Both democracy and dictatorship imply accountability of power and differ only in the method of its implementation—in the first case, through elections; in the second, as a rule, through revolutions. Actually, the ability to regularly express one’s “boo” to the government is what ensures the dynamics of democracy. The inability to do so guarantees stagnation to dictatorship, but even there “the Führer answers for everything” once every fifty years. The familiar pairing of authoritarianism and democracy often confuses domestic and foreign observers, and they interpret Ukrainian political events as a struggle for power. Power, as is known, implies responsibility. In Ukraine, however, the struggle unfolds over the extent of irresponsibility—the president has the greatest irresponsibility in our system, and a deputy, say, has the least (I should note that we are probably the only country whose Constitution does not define the head of the executive authority). As for power, its scope is situational, although one can say of all officials that they can act toward the civilian population however they please. The difference between officials consists in who among them is more likely to “get away with it.” If one can somehow find a way to deal with a housing office chief, then with the president—it is impossible in any way. Among themselves they have a certain hierarchy, but even here, generally speaking, the impudent and bold have all the advantages.

Let us try to substantiate this thesis. Ordinary bureaucracy is protected by years of accumulated job descriptions, the contents of which are guarded better than any military secret. Therefore, let us turn to the higher bureaucracy and a document accessible to everyone—the Constitution, which with such provincial directness describes the very essence of the existing regime. We are talking about the powers of the president, which in more minimalist versions other officials try to reproduce. So, if one carefully studies Article 104 and several others adjacent to it, the following picture emerges. The president has:

  • full control over the government (the right to dismiss the prime minister at any moment and the right to propose a candidate for new prime minister an unlimited number of times)

  • normative, and actually legislative powers (the right to issue decrees)

  • judicial powers (the right to cancel decisions of the executive authority, which is not administratively subordinate to the president, and the right to interpret the Constitution, for example, when imposing a veto)

Legal mechanisms for political pressure on the president are absent (he is independent of parliament and parties, since he is required to be non-partisan). This leads to the fact that the only way to obtain decisions from the only subject in the system capable of implementing them is illegal pressure (cabinet intrigue).

It is characteristic that the powers are organized so that the president does not participate in positive political process; he acts predominantly negatively. The president does not appoint, but dismisses; does not accept, but cancels, etc. He does not directly manage anything, but his decisions are necessary for practically any administrative action. For some reason we are not at all surprised by the phenomenon of “the president in opposition,” when Kuchma easily publicly criticizes the government that is supposedly subordinate to him. And yet, one should be surprised at this. After all, such behavior is possible only when the president stands not above the power structure, but outside it.

In order not to delve into an analysis of the existing system’s operation, let us stop only at the key point—the decision-making mechanism dictated by the scheme described above. In this mechanism, the president belongs:

  • the right to delegate decision-making (referral to parliament or the Cabinet of Ministers)

  • the right to establish the format of a decision (formal—informal)

  • the right to change decisions during their execution

  • the right to postpone decisions or prolong those already made

  • the right not to make any decisions

  • the right to evaluate the execution of decisions, as well as decisions made by others.

One can say that the decision-making mechanism is more absent than existent. The president can make decisions without the rest of the political mechanism, but it without him—no. Naturally, in such a situation administrative paralysis arises—no one knows exactly where the president’s powers begin and end, and, consequently, all “administrative resources” are directed at finding out or guessing what the president wants. Hence the passivity of administrations in constructive decisions and activity in destructive ones (aimed at “making sure nothing happens”). Let us also note that most politicians (except those to whom it is prescribed by their role) prefer not to show initiative and generally not to have their own position. This is not surprising, after all, showing a position in a system where the president defines his powers situationally is permissible only in case of support for his legal initiatives. In all other cases, one’s own position is considered an encroachment on the president’s field of activity, which he uses not so much as potentially could use someday. I recall in this connection how last year all the more or less influential politicians, just in case, declared that they would not run for president.

And last. The negative powers of the president lead to the fact that his systemic position looks like this: “you, generally, go ahead and do it, and I’ll watch.” Consequently, those dissatisfied with how something is “being done” receive the opportunity not to debate with the “doers,” but to convince the president to “watch” and stop the outrage. Hence the illegality, the behind-the-scenes nature of all our politics; hence all this continuous “muddying of waters,” constant absurd movements, situations and conflicts that cause quite justified revulsion. If we speak in terms of imagery, the Ukrainian system resembles not the classical “power pyramid,” but a whirlwind turned with its point downward. As is known, in order to be stable, a whirlwind must rotate; new people, projects, money, and resources must be sucked into it. Exactly so, someone is constantly being thrown out of it by the force of inertia. Well, the “point of calm,” around which everything rotates, is the position of president. And one more thing about whirlwinds is known—they don’t stay in one place. And this one has already been roaming the country for twelve years.