The last time Dick Cheney visited the former Soviet Union in May 2006, he spoke as the victor of the cold war–and extended an invitation to Russia to become a partner of the West, on the West’s terms. In Vilnius, Lithuania, he told an audience of the leaders of nine former Soviet republics or Warsaw Pact satellites that Russia was not "fated to be an enemy" and that it "can be a strategic partner and a trusted friend." But he urged that Russia follow the course embraced by its former subjects in the Soviet bloc. "Russia has a choice to make," he said.
In the aftermath of Georgia, it looks like Moscow has made its choice. But it was hardly the one Cheney proposed–rather than partnership, Russia has chosen head-on confrontation to reassert its authority over its former empire.
Next week, as Cheney visits Georgia, Azerbaijan and Ukraine he will face an audience very different from the one George Bush faced when he visited the Georgian capital in 2005. Then, Bush promised an adoring crowd that “the path of freedom you have chosen is not easy, but you will not travel it alone … Americans respect your courageous choice for liberty. And as you build a free and democratic Georgia, the American people will stand with you.” Yet as Russian tanks rolled into the Georgian cities of Gori, Poti and Zugdidi there was little that the United States could actually do to protect its erstwhile ally. A U.S. frigate delivered humanitarian aid–including tons of bottled water–to the Georgian port of Batumi last week. The U.S. also flew a 2,000-strong Georgian contingent that had been serving in Iraq back from Baghdad to Tbilisi. Russian troops dug in to positions deep in Georgian territory; NATO did little but issue verbal condemnation of Moscow’s actions. A NATO spokesman also denied reports that there was any increased naval presence in the Black Sea in response to a partial Russian blockade of the Georgian oil port of Poti, dashing Georgian hopes of a show of solidarity from NATO’s navies. Even Turkey, Georgia’s neighbor and closest regional ally, refused permission for large U.S. ships to transit the Bosporus for fear of provoking conflict with Moscow.
Clearly, Cheney will have some explaining to do. The vice president aims to send "a clear and simple message that the United States has a deep and abiding interest in the well being and security of this part of the world," according to John Hannah, Cheney’s assistant for national-security affairs. That’s hardly a clarion call to support Georgia.
Last time Cheney was in these parts, he invoked cold-war heroes Ronald Reagan, Pope John Paul II and the dissident leaders of the Soviet bloc who threw off "the stagnation of imperial dictatorship." This time he will doubtless praise Georgia’s mercurial President Mikheil Saakashvili and promise to stand by him as he faces the same imperial dictatorship, resurgent. But the acid test of the U.S.’s intentions will be whether the U.S. can succeed in advancing NATO membership for Ukraine and Georgia–something many European members, such as France and Germany, have balked at as a provocative step likely to push Russia into further aggression.
Cheney, usually fond of straight talking, will find himself caught in a web of nuance. Washington needs Russian cooperation to contain Iran and North Korea. Practically, there is little the U.S. can do to defend Georgia. Yet at the same time Georgia cannot be allowed to fall to Russian bullying. “We are living in historic times when freedom is advancing, from the Black Sea to the Caspian, and to the Persian Gulf and beyond,” Bush told Georgians in 2005. “As you watch free people gathering in squares like this across the world, waving their nations' flags and demanding their God-given rights, you can take pride in this fact: they have been inspired by your example and they take hope in your success.” If Georgia’s success was inspirational, then America’s failure to defend an ally may have an equal, but much sadder, resonance.
