Vladimir Yakunin: The Treacherous Path: An Insider's Account of Modern Russia

This is balanced, however, by the continued commitment to the Dialogue of Civilizations project, bringing together public intellectuals, religious and civil society leaders, politicians and academics to discuss problems of civilisational identity, cultural autonomy, diverse paths of development and above all, dialogue as a method of political and social engagement. In 2016 this work became more formalised though the establishment of the Dialogue of Civilizations Research Institute based in Berlin.

This brief survey indicates how Yakunin has been at the intersection of the main debates and developments of modern Russian history. Like so many others, he had hoped to salvage a better and more humane version of the Soviet Union, and then in the post-Communist years became committed to Russia’s development as a market democracy, although with a statist inflection. He makes no secret of his support for Putin, who in his eyes – and the eyes of so many other Russians – saved the country from the threat of going the way of the Soviet Union by restoring state capacity, elements of stability, rational governance, and maintaining Russia’s status in the world. This does not mean that there are no disagreements, especially over economic policy and governance issues, but there are now institutions in which such discussions can be held.

Equally, Yakunin’s account shows the importance of what could be called the ‘spiritual’ side of national development and international cooperation. The discussions in the framework of the Dialogue of Civilizations, as I can personally attest, have been accompanied by a commitment to fundamental human values. While there is sharp critique of the perceived false universalism of much of contemporary left-liberal identity thinking, of globalisation as a model of human development if it threatens national cultures and diverse histories, and of the assertion that the liberal international order is synonymous with order itself, these debates are essential if humane and pluralistic forms of international and inter-civilisation dialogue are to survive. It is in this spirit that Yakunin’s book is written, and his moving personal testimony is essential reading for anyone trying to understand Russia today.

Richard Sakwa

University of Kent

They say that there are two sides to every story; I think perhaps that it is more complex than that. After all, a lot of stories have been told about me. For instance that I am merciless, the kind of man who eats other people for breakfast, bones and all. That I am part of a secret cabal of former KGB officers who have plotted to take control of the country; that I am an agent of the Kremlin; that I am a devoted Orthodox Christian; that I was one of the country’s most powerful men before I fell from grace (the list is endless) – but only some of these stories are true. By the same token, many myths have come to circulate about Russia – that it was saved in the ’90s by the actions of liberal reformers; that it is an authoritarian state which has banished free speech; that we all long secretly for the return of the Soviet empire – and, again, few have any basis in reality. This book will tell a different kind of story, not just about the life of a single citizen, but also, I hope, about the experiences of an entire nation.

Over the past seventy years, I have led many lives, and so, over the same period, has Russia. I have been a scientist, an intelligence officer, a diplomat, an entrepreneur, a government minister and, finally, the president of Russian Railways – RZD (Rossiiskie Zheleznye Dorogi, literally Russian Iron Roads) – one of the largest transportation companies in the world. When I was born, Russia was at the centre of the Soviet Union, one of the earth’s two superpowers. I saw it grow and change and decline, before I was forced to watch as the positive energy that had animated perestroika surged out of control and demolished the institutions it had been intended to save. I looked on with sorrow as the country floundered for over a decade – as its economy, its entire civic life crumbled, even as some of the country’s most energetic citizens grasped enthusiastically at the opportunities the new polity offered – until eventually something approaching stability was achieved.

It has been a time of convulsion, of tectonic changes that have altered every element of society’s existence, sending shockwaves right through the world. I have witnessed the corruption of the Soviet nomenklatura and the savage lawlessness of the new breed of businessmen who came to prominence after 1991. I have watched, helpless, as, in the years of chaos and want, my family (like so many millions of others) was afflicted by the breakdown of our nation’s infrastructure. But though I have never considered myself to be a politician grabbing after power (politics is a game of blood, war and inequality; I have always tried to keep my distance), I have been more than a mute observer, never crouching idly in a corner.

As a field officer in the KGB, my life was dedicated to preserving the fabric of a society that at the time I believed was the surest guarantor of peace, equality and freedom throughout the world; and since the fall of communism I have played a part in rebuilding a nation that for a long time seemed to have been buried deep in the debris of the old order. Out of the mud and swamps of the Baltic coast I oversaw the construction of a crucial plank in Russia’s new economy, and I know what it is like to be responsible for the fate of over a million employees and to control a transport network that reaches into every corner of the world’s largest country. So if I have been shaped by the times I have lived through – and I want in this book to show how the things I have seen and done have moulded my personality and redirected the way my thoughts flow – I have also, I hope, left my own mark on them.

Many books have been written about my country in the last few years. Some are well-researched, exhaustively sourced and elegantly told, but they all are the work of outsiders. Their writers have watched and listened and written, but they have not taken part. I have. This is the first record of my country’s recent history to be written by someone with such an intimate knowledge of its government and the key personalities within it. It is an insider’s story, one that offers an unashamedly subjective perspective, which is markedly different to the accounts that you might have become accustomed to reading in your newspaper or watching on your TV screens. It is a perspective that I feel has been sorely lacking in much, if not all, of the discourse about Russia that takes place in the West. In my experience, the majority of people living in Britain or the United States tend to regard my country in oversimplified, almost Manichaean terms, but the truth is never black and white.

I also wanted to write this book to allow me to reflect and take stock of the tumultuous events of the past decades, and the closing of a significant chapter in my life has provided me with the opportunity to do so. In August 2015, I retired from my position at the helm of Russian Railways, a post I had held for ten eventful years (a period preceded by four years as first deputy Minister of the Railways and first deputy president of the state-owned company we formed to replace it). I managed its reformation from a ministry into a state-owned company, and over the same period witnessed the transformation of Russia itself. When I was made CEO of the newly constituted Russian Railways company in 2005, I was charged by President Vladimir Putin with the daunting task of overseeing its reform as well as undertaking the modernisation of a railway network comprising over 85,000km of track. In the process I also witnessed the arguments within Russia’s elite about the direction our country should be taking; becoming an unwilling participant in many of the power struggles that played out within the state, and seeing at first hand how supposedly neutral entities such as law enforcement or environmental agencies could be used as pawns in political games.