Aslan Maskhadov's latest appeal for peace talks faces the same failure. The international attention he garnered for his gesture was hardly enough to persuade the Kremlin to negotiate with its enemies. Warlord Shamil Basayev's parallel threat of further terrorist attacks only strengthened Russians' resolve - and earned the British broadcaster that aired it a lashing by Russian officialdom. Even the scare of a possible Chechen nuclear bomb, cited by Boris Berezovsky amid the uproar, was shrugged off by Russian generals.
All this frenzy is fizzling fast. It appears that the Kremlin, the Chechens and the international community are all participating in this ritual charade: militants grab the spotlight and re-ignite international indignation about the war, Russian officials reject any negotiations, and all sides go home further entrenched in their positions.
The Americans stayed silent this week about Maskhadov's ceasefire and negotiations offer. Despite tougher rhetoric from Washington toward Russia in recent months, the Chechnya question appears to be currently off-limits. U.S. Ambassador Alexander Vershbow reaffirmed U.S. efforts to help Russia choke off terrorists in Chechnya and talked of fairer elections - but did not mention peace talks. Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice, in her latest comments on Russia, mentioned anti-terrorism cooperation but did not mention Chechnya by name. Even though Washington continues to host members of the Chechen diaspora, the U.S. government has labeled Basayev's group as terrorists and long ago stopped calling for negotiations with Maskhadov.
One of the war's most vigorous critics, the Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe, plans to take part in talks next month between ex-Maskhadov envoys and current pro-Kremlin Chechens - but there are no plans for inviting Mr. Maskhadov's current team. Even liberal commentators concede that more ambitious talks, if held, would probably not produce a lasting settlement.
As weary as Russians are of war, they are increasingly convinced that peace in Chechnya is impossible. The Kremlin recognizes, and sometimes feeds, this conviction, and shuns all talk of negotiations.
Russia's stance on Chechnya has been challenged time and again by the outside world, yet no one has presented Putin with a solution he can gracefully pursue, much less a reason to pursue it. He owes his rise to power to this war, and abandoning it now could threaten his political future. More importantly, he has no one to negotiate with.
Even the war's loudest opponents admit that the Chechen forces are fractured and that moderate rebel leaders are near extinction. Onetime peacemaker Maskhadov, despite denouncing major terrorist attacks, has done nothing to win back Russian trust since his leadership of Chechnya crumbled into chaos in the 1990s. More crucially, his authority over Chechen forces has crumbled too.
The other internationally recognized face of rebel Chechnya, Basayev, is too proud of his terrorist resume to be included in any negotiations. And he, too, faces resistance among Chechen factions who wouldn't feel bound by any peace plan endorsed by him or Maskhadov or both.
Sadly, it means little whether Maskhadov's offer was a genuine plea for peace or a headline-grabbing scheme designed to buy his fighters time to regroup during the hostile mountain winter. Similarly, for all Berezovsky's wealth, his words no longer move mountains. Whether he is a voice of impassioned opposition seeking to end a war, or a has-been tycoon looking to rekindle his role as conductor of the Kremlin-Chechnya relationship, the result is the all-too-familiar deadlock.
Putin suffered international isolation andwounds to his reputation because of political upheaval in Ukraine and Georgia, and ultimately had to accept what for him was an unfavorable outcome in both countries. Any such outcome in Chechnya is unthinkable without foreign military intervention, something no country is ready to mount.
A recent hit Russian action film, "Lichny Nomer" ("Countdown" in international versions), seems particularly apt amid the latest Chechnya debate. A superhero Russian special agent is kidnapped by Chechens bankrolled by an exiled oligarch. The agent is tortured into making a videotaped confession that he organized terrorist acts against Russian civilians, then escapes with the help of a British journalist. Meanwhile, the oligarch strikes a deal with Arab and Chechen mercenaries to stage a fake terrorist attack on a circus, so that he can negotiate a triumphant end to the horror. The Arabs, however, turn out to be real terrorists, using the attack to spirit a nuclear bomb out of the country.
Is art imitating life or propaganda? Either way, the message is clear.
