MOSCOW, 27 April 2004 — Laws, limited terms of office and elections seem little more than pesky hindrances to certain leaders in the 15 states that comprise the former Soviet Union, as they strive to increase their time at the top and with it their bank balance.
So much so that it would seem many have honed the art of clinging to power until their deathbed, or even beyond, to perfection.
One method of skirting the usual two-term restriction is to amend the constitution to extend your tenure or even allow a third term.
Boris Yeltsin, now 73, explored this avenue in Russia from 1993 but resigned in 1999 owing largely to ill-health. The dictatorial president of Belarus, Alexander Lukashenko, 49, used a controversial referendum to fix the constitution in 1996 and extend his reign to 2006.
Azerbaijan’s Heydar Aliyev had the same notion before elections last October, but aged 80 and plagued by sickness he maneuvered 42-year-old son Ilham into line instead. From his US deathbed he successfully urged his impoverished people to back his heir at the polls.
As a rule of thumb, the closer a president’s domain is to Europe, the greater the international influence and pressure to play fair.
The Baltic republics of Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania next month join the EU with a comparatively well-developed political culture.
At the same time, the more natural resources or openings for foreign military bases a leader can offer, the more subdued the objections from the West and Russia, which also courts the republics.
In the oil— and gas-rich Caucasus and Central Asian republics, rampant abuses of election laws and civil rights draw international criticism that polls are neither free nor fair. But there is never a refusal to recognize the outcome, particularly when there is no obvious alternative to the incumbent.
Double standards maybe, but a reality in part of the world so prone to conflict and unrest, say analysts.
“Attitudes of Washington, Moscow and European capitals are in certain cases driven by political expedience rather than political principles,” said Andrei Piontkovsky, director of the Moscow Center for Strategic Research.
Dubious referendums extended the presidential term from five to seven years for Islam Karimov of Uzbekistan, 66, Emomali Rakhmonov of Tajikistan, 51, and Nursultan Nazarbayev of Kazakhstan, 64.
For some of the pack, being president apparently means amassing huge personal fortunes in overseas banks and doling out lavish perks to relatives and friends.
Nonetheless, there is underlying anxiety about possible retribution and confiscation of wealth when retirement finally dawns.
Nazarbayev and President Askar Akayev of Kyrgyzstan, 49, ushered bills through Parliament guaranteeing them and their families lifetime immunity from legal proceedings. Yeltsin received the same immunity when Vladimir Putin became Kremlin boss.
Meanwhile, others in the presidents’ club are watching how Ilham Aliyev fares in his father’s bid to build a family dynasty of power.
With no male heir to turn to, Kazakhstan’s Nazarbayev is said to be grooming his eldest daughter Dariga as one possible successor. Karimov’s daughter Gulnara is also seen as a candidate in Uzbekistan.
In neighboring Turkmenistan, 64-year-old President Saparmurat Niyazov is risking no hiccups in succession. With Parliament’s help, the “father of all Turkmen” secured the option of remaining in power for life.
Perhaps the extravagancies of son Murad, who is said to have blown $12 million in one night at a Madrid casino, were too much to consider passing on the mantle in his lifetime.
But corrupt regimes are not always as safe as they might like to think. Leaders will have uneasily noted the sudden ouster of Georgian President Eduard Shevardnadze in mass protests last November. His successor, Western-educated Mikhail Saakashvili, 36, vows to end endemic corruption and build a modern state in Georgia.
Dogged by allegations of complicity in the murder of a journalist and other scandals, Ukrainian President Leonid Kuchma must do some fancy footwork before his second term ends in October.
The constitutional court gave him the go-ahead to run again, but Kuchma, 65, insists he doesn’t want a third term.
Instead he tried in vain to push through a bill on constitutional changes that critics said would make it impossible to prosecute him and his cronies for crimes committed while in office. Unless he can count on an ally as successor, he may yet face trouble after Oct. 31. Back in Russia, few doubt that when — if — Putin calls it a day at the end of his second and supposedly final term in 2008, his retirement at 55 will be as free from worry as Boris Yeltsin’s.
