(story to be published in tomorrow’s issue, March 31)
While numerous Russians – fascinated by Vladimir Putin’s authoritarian and peremptory attitude for the West – are deluding themselves with the idea that their country will regain its status as a great power, Russia is gradually losing one of the strongest arguments that could back this claim: its population. Since 1992, the world’s widest-stretching state has become, year after year, ever less populated. And the loss is not gradual, such as the one in Western countries. Last year, Russia lost no less than 780,000 inhabitants – 0.5% of the populace – and analysts say the trend will continue for at least another decade. Toward the end of the ninth decade, at the apogee of its power, the former Soviet empire counted almost 290 million (of which 151 million within today’s Russian Federation). Moscow could thus lay claims to being the capital of the third most populated country in the world, outnumbering (a fact they never forgot to mention) the United States. But the times of glory withered away fast. After the USSR broke down, the Russians suddenly realised their country remained a world leader in very few respects. Once regarded as the world’s second economic and industrial power (although statistics were inflated, they never came to be doubted internationally), Moscow today limps with a gross domestic product below Belgium’s, which places it on the 20th place worldwide. Its position would not be as humiliating had Russia not fallen behind Asian rivals such as China or India, or developing countries such as Brazil, Mexico and even Argentina. (For comparison’s sake, the Russian GDP is one-fifth that of China, one-seventh that of France and only 2.5% of the USA). To regain lost economic ground, Vladimir Putin recently said Russia should maintain a 10% annual growth rate for 15 years. Even if this goal is attained (a feat that has been impossible even for Japan in the time of its peak economic expansion), Moscow would only advance about ten places up the ranking, but would still lag behind the Americans, the Chinese, the five major West-European economies, Japan, and even Brazil. While Russia has become a second-grade economy – its presence in the G8 being merely a concession to its military power – the country has also dropped in the population rankings. Today, with its 145.5 million inhabitants, it is barely on seventh place, not only behind the USA, but also Indonesia, Brazil and even Pakistan (and it is set to lose even this seventh place to Bangladesh in five years at most). The fact that Russia is under-populated should not be an impediment in its efforts to become a world economic power. After all, Japan – with a population even below Russia’s – makes 60% of the United States’ GDP. The major problem is that demographic involution of the Eurasian colossus is worsened by an ageing and ailing population. They key factor in this decline is an exceptional mortality rate among the male population. According to the Liberation, life expectancy for a Russian male is merely 60 years (compared to 72 for Russian women). There are several reasons behind high mortality among men. The most obvious is alcoholism. Statistics show that an average Russian drinks three bottles of vodka a week (!). With the outbreak of the economic crisis, numerous firms have sprung up selling counterfeit alcohol, leading to more cases of death by intoxication. More generally, the Russians’ way of life, swayed by tobacco addiction, a poorly balanced diet and a polluted environment, fully contributes to this mortality. Health care and social security have all but crumbled in the last years. Diseases long eradicated in the West have reappeared in Russia. The number of syphilis cases grew 70-fold since the beginning of the ’90s, while tuberculosis – “born” in the insalubrious and overpopulated prisons – is on the verge of turning into an epidemic. After ignoring this problem, Russian authorities are facing today the existence of almost 30,000 patients resilient to medication, incurable and extremely contagious. With things so sinister, Moscow had to give up any pride and accept the help of Western health institutions. In a country where patriotism and regaining national glory have become widely practised, the affair has acquired a strong political flavour. Last year, in its failed attempt to demote President Boris Yeltsin, the Communist Party accused him of “genocide against the Russian people.” Zyuganov and his circle said the high mortality – comparable to that in Maghreb area – is explained by the poverty most of the population has been plunged into by the economic reforms that followed the breakdown of the Soviet Union. Nevertheless, Russia’s demographic crisis can also be explained with more classical factors. Among them, reduced birth rates, even lower than in the West. Difficult economic conditions have forced most couples to stop at the first child. Then, Russian ethnics from formerly Soviet republics have stopped immigrating into Russia. After the period between ’91 through ’94, when many Russians from outside the Federation chose to return to their “motherland,” in the latest years they are attracted by the opportunities offered by former USSR republics. Although they complain of marginalisation, Russians living in the Baltic states are aware that they are better off than their brothers on the banks of Volga and are less interested in joining them. For many experts, the situation only foretells an even grimmer future. “The consequences of the demographic crisis on the economy, army and society in general, will be enormous,” says American professor Murray Feshbach in an article in the International Herald Tribune. In his opinion, a catastrophic decline in people’s health (poor diet and heart disease are on the rise among the youth, and 15% to 20% of couples are sterile) will continue eroding Russia’s economic potential and its position worldwide. For now, Moscow can comfort itself with the thought that it still holds the second largest nuclear arsenal in the world. Vladimir Putin – who likes to make a display of his “militaristic” inclinations, behind the stick of a jet fighter or on a judo ground – has promised to support the defence industry and pay more attention to the demoralised and underpaid armed forces. But it is hard to believe this policy will improve on reforms in the economy and thus on the living standard. Certainly, those with a nostalgia for Communism will feel a jolt of pride watching military parades in the Red Square and listening to news of Russian troops’ “battle victories” on some new front in the Caucasus. But to reclaim the coveted “greatness” worldwide, Russia will first have to win the battle – just as harsh and difficult – for economic reforms. And here, the war has barely begun.