Putin’s Wars: from Chechnya to Ukraine by Mark Galeotti (2022)

This is a very military history. Seeing as it also covers the decade before Vladimir Putin came to power, and that it is very focused on the minutiae of the Russian Army, Navy and Air Force, as well as details of the various reforms and reorganisations they have undergone during the Putin years, the book could more accurately have been titled ‘A History of The Russian Army, Navy and Air Force, 1990 to 2022’.

Military units

Here’s an example of what I mean by military minutiae. This is Galeotti’s description of the Russian army’s invasion of Chechnya:

From the north Major General Konstantin Pulikovsky led a mechanised force drawn from the 81st and 276th Motor Rifle regiments and a battalion of the 131st Independent Motor Rifle Brigade. From the west Major General Valery Petruk led elements of the 19th Motor Rifle Division supported by two regiments and two battalions of paratroopers along the railway tracks to seize the central station and then advance on the presidential palace. From the east, the 129th Motor Rifle Regiment and a battalion each of the 98th and 104th Airborne Divisions under Lieutenant Colonel Nikolai Staskov would make a similar thrust along the railway line to Lenin Square in the heart of the city and from there take the bridges across the Sunzha river. From the north-east, Rokhlin himself would lead elements of the 255th and 33rd Motor Rifle Regiments and the 66th Reconnaissance Battalion of the 20th Motor Rifle Division to take the Central Hospital complex, while units of the 76th and 106th Airborne Division would secure the Lenin and Sheripov oil processing factories and chemical works to prevent the rebels from destroying these crucial economic assets. (p.61)

The accounts of all the wars feature lots of paragraphs like this, precise accounts of which units under which commanders went where and how they fared in the fighting.

There’s also a lot of analysis of organisational and administrative reforms from between the wars, as Galeotti gives detailed accounts of the attempts of successive Russian defence ministers, most notably Anatoly Serdyukov and then Sergei Shogai, to reform the Russian army against opposition and inertia from the military high command.

Hence the chapter titled ‘New Look Army’ (pages 142 to 152), which gives us detail of how the Defence Minister and head of the general staff implemented the 2010 plan for a new-look Russian army, half the size of its predecessor but better equipped and better trained, with better retention of conscripts, fewer but better quality senior officers.

Galeotti explains, with maps, the reorganisation of the army into half a dozen military districts, gives a detailed breakdown of what a new-look motorised rifle brigade consisted of (3,800 officers and men) plus a list of all its components (including 1 nuclear, biological and chemical company) and so on. And a similar level of description of the new-look air force and navy, followed by an organogram showing the chain of military command starting with the president and working down.

And then the last 90 or so pages of the original edition of this book (before he added a new chapter about the Ukraine War), pages 229 to 310, present a very detailed review of the current state of all Russia’s fighting forces, army, navy and air forces, along with special forces, paratroopers and black berets, nuclear weapons and so on, as of the time of writing (April 2022).

In this long final section the book turns into a version of ‘Janes Fighting Ships’ only about all aspects of the Russian fighting machine, giving mind-numbing details of the speed, size, range, design and latest versions of a wide range of military kit, from machine guns (the AK12 to replace the ageing AK74) to its sole aircraft carrier (the Admiral Kuznetsov), along with equally excessive detail of each service’s organisational structure, divisions, brigades and so on and so on. Take the opening of the Spetsnaz section:

The Spetsnaz comprise seven regular brigades of various sizes, in total constituting perhaps 19 battalion-size units called Independent Special Designation Detachments (OOSN) each with around 500 personnel. The relatively small 22nd Brigade has just two OOSN, the 173rd and 411th, for example, while the large 14th Brigade… (p.292)

And so very much on, for page after page after page of excruciating detail.

I was looking for a book about the geopolitics of Putin’s Wars and that’s certainly here, attached to his fairly brisk accounts of each conflict, and when he summarises it, Galeotti is very good. But his accounts of the political background to each conflict, and even the wars themselves, take second place to his forensic analysis of Russian fighting forces and how they have changed and evolved since 1990.

Military biographies

As for the key political and military players, as the book trundled on I realised Galeotti was devoting quite a lot of time to them. All the key players in the 30-year period of the Russian army which he covers are given potted biographies. Putin is the most obvious one, along with sometime prime minister Dmitry Medvedev, but all the defence ministers, the key generals in each of the wars, and the leaders of the respective nationalist or independence uprisings, all are given a half-page potted biography (for example, the extended profile of key defence minister Sergei Shogai on pages 155 to 159).

Slowly this builds up into a sort of indirect social history, because all of them grew up in the ’60s, ’70s or ’80s, their life stories include snapshots of their lives and careers during the late Cold War, the Afghan War, the chaos of the Yeltsin years and so on. It isn’t a collective biography but, taken together, the many individual biographies begin to sketch out a network of real lives, and so start to give a feel for the institutional life of the last years of the Soviet Union.

The 1990s

For Russia the 1990s were a decade of chaos at home and humiliating conflicts abroad. The army almost fell apart amid the chaos following the end of the Soviet Union and economic collapse: stories of soldiers reduced to begging in the streets and even dying of malnutrition. In February 1991 the Warsaw Pact, which had been the West’s bogeyman since its inception in 1955, was formally disbanded.

Prime example of the chaos was how nationalist President Boris Yeltsin inherited a Duma packed with communists who blocked his every move, the standoff escalating to a crisis in October 1994 when pro-communist crowds seized TV channels and the Duma building, which prompted Yeltsin, on 4 October 1993, to send in the army who shelled their own parliament building, starting a fire which ended up gutting it. Like some chaotic Third World country.

Putin was manoeuvred into power by the KGB and other forces who wanted social and political stability after a decade of chaos under Yeltsin. As you’d expect, there are pages detailing Putin’s non-descript career, how he came over as loyal, reliable and dependable to a series of powerful men, until shadowy forces in the KGB and military helped broker the deal whereby Putin was nominated by Yeltsin to be his successor as president, on condition that he passed an act of immunity freeing Yeltsin from prosecution for his umpteen acts of corruption. Putin was made president in December 1999 and his first act was to pass this immunity law for drunk Boris.

All this Russian drunkenness, chaos and corruption is amusing to read about but the point that matters is that Putin came to power determined to restore Russia’s status as a superpower. He and his sponsors wanted to Make Russia Great Again (p.169).

‘Near abroad’

Putin wants to restore the territory lost to Russia when all the other Soviet states declared independence. Galeotti quotes a Russian defence minister in 1995 talking about ‘Near abroad’, meaning the countries and territories adjacent to Russia which it dominated for over a century through its Tsarist empire, and then bossed around through the Soviet era. It’s a well enough known phrase for Wikipedia to have an article on it, defining Russia’s ‘near abroad’ as ‘the post-Soviet states (other than Russia itself) which became independent after the dissolution of the Soviet Union.’

This concept overlaps with the nationalist notion of a Greater Russia which transcends modern borders to include all the old Tsarist territories. Both of them justify Russia interfering in, invading and taking control of their neighbours.

Reuniting the Russian people

During the Soviet Union entire populations were moved around the different republics with little concern for the consequences. It didn’t matter in the borderless USSR but it became very important when all the former Soviet Republics became independent states. At a stroke no fewer than 20 million Russians found themselves stuck in ‘foreign’ countries. To put it another way, all the countries bordering Russia contain Russian minorities, sometimes quite sizeable minorities.

The most obvious examples are the large Russian-speaking communities in the Crimea and in Eastern Ukraine which gave Putin the excuse for invading both of them in 2014 but there are also vocal Russian minorities in, for example, all three Balkan states. At any moment Putin might stir them into protests and then use these protests as a pretext for invading, pretty much as Hitler invaded the Sudetenland in 1938, to reunite its protesting Germans with the Fatherland. Which is why the leaders of the Baltic states are so worried.

So Putin 1) believes Russia has total command over its sphere of influence which can be defined as 2) Greater Russia, Russia at its greatest extent under the empire and also, maybe, the Soviet Union, and 3) wants to liberate these Russian communities now in foreign countries and reunite them with the Holy Motherland.

Russian irredentism

Yet another way of describing the same thing is the term Russian irredentism:

Russian irredentism refers to territorial claims made by the Russian Federation to regions that were historically part of the Russian Empire and the Soviet Union, which Russian nationalists regard as part of the ‘Russian world’. It seeks to create a Greater Russia by politically incorporating ethnic Russians and Russian speakers living in territories bordering Russia. This ideology has been significantly defined by the regime of Vladimir Putin, who has governed the country since 1999. It is linked to Russian neo-imperialism.

Insofar as all the old republics of the Soviet Union are now independent nation states, the Putin Doctrine represents a permanent threat to peace in Europe.

Comparison with Hitler

In many ways it’s like the situation of the German people after World War One. When the victorious Allies imposed the punitive Treaty of Versailles on defeated Germany they redrew the map of Europe so that no fewer than seven million Germans found themselves stuck in countries outside Germany. This was partly what Hitler was about with his popular promise to reunite all ethnic Germans in an expanded Fatherland. This, for example – its large German population – was why Hitler demanded the area known as the Sudetenland back from the state of Czechoslovakia, a nation which was only created by the Treaty of Versailles and which Hitler refused to recognise as a real country.

Putin is very close to Hitler’s way of thinking. He, Medvedev, foreign secretary Sergei Lavrov, members of his political party (United Russia), commentators and intellectuals, have all been lined up to claim that Ukraine simply isn’t a country, it has no claim to be a nation state. It was, is and always will be part of Greater Russia.

In his 2021 essay ‘On the Historical Unity of Russians and Ukrainians’, Putin referred to Russians, Ukrainians and Belarusians as ‘one people’ making up a triune Russian nation. He maintained that large parts of Ukraine are historical Russian lands and claimed there is ‘no historical basis’ for the ‘idea of Ukrainian people as a nation separate from the Russians’.

It would be one thing if this was just the view of a particular clique or party but in fact these nationalist, neo-imperial views are very popular across Russia. That’s the real worry. That even if Putin and his entire clique were vaporised it wouldn’t change the fundamental neo-imperial irredentist mindset of the entire Russian ruling class and a large part of its population. Russia is committed to being a source of instability and conflict in Eastern Europe for the foreseeable future…

Russian paranoia

To which we must add Russian paranoia. The whole premise of the Russian forces in all services, of Russian military doctrine, of the vast amount spent on arms and men, is that everyone wants to attack and destroy Russia. All Russian officials toe the Putin line that Russia is permanently under serious threat. Former head of the FSB, Nikolai Patrusheve, is on the record as saying the United States ‘would very much like Russia not to exist as a country’ (quoted p.312). As Galeotti puts it:

We can never underestimate the paranoias and resentments of Putin and his circle… (p.307)

Paranoia is defined on Wikipedia as:

an instinct or thought process that is believed to be heavily influenced by anxiety, suspicion, or fear, often to the point of delusion and irrationality. Paranoid thinking typically includes persecutory beliefs, or beliefs of conspiracy concerning a perceived threat towards oneself i.e. ‘Everyone is out to get me’.

If it’s a mental illness or psychiatric condition then the entire Russian military-political establishment is mentally ill.

Weakness of the Russian army

However, when he came to power Putin faced a simple challenge which was the army left to the Russian Federation after the collapse of the USSR was in very poor shape and this book is very largely about the efforts of his successive defence ministers, and hand-picked senior military staff, to reform and improve it.

Early on Galeotti mentions all kinds of reasons for the Russian army’s weakness. Obvious ones were chaos, mismanagement and universal corruption. The tradition of building a mass army of over a million using reluctant conscripts. The way the conscripts were signed up in two waves, in the spring and autumn, ensured lack of overlap and consistency. Galeotti also says the Russian army has a long-standing problem because it lacks the rank of non-commissioned officer that the British army has, the rank of men who’ve risen from private, command the trust of and speak the language of the ordinary soldiers, can convert officers’ orders into do-able actions.

Another problem was the Russian army has a centuries-old tradition of hazing, dedovshchina or ‘grandfathering’. Like everything Russian this is the legitimisation of brutal bullying designed to turn raw recruits into ‘men’. But, as well as regularly actually killing them, it of course does nothing of the sort, turns no-one into ‘men, it just brutalises them, preparing them to rape, pillage and torture whatever foreign population is unlucky enough to be occupied by them.

Then there was the vast problem of out-of-date equipment. Galeotti has passages throughout the book detailing the shortcomings of all kinds of Russian military kit, from tanks to body armour. The lack of reliable radios and communications led to friendly fire incidents in all the wars he describes. Half the Russian planes and helicopters shot down in the short Georgian war (7 to 12 August 2008) were shot down by their own side.

Hence the central thread which the book comes back to again and again, which was the efforts of successive defence ministers to reform the army, navy and air force at all levels, in all ways. Maybe the book should have been titled ‘The Reform of the Russian Army 1990 to 2022′.

Bad advice

I was amused that Yeltsin was encouraged to embark on the First Chechen War (11 December 1994 to 31 August 1996) by his advisers and Minister of Defence, who assured him they would take Grozny and pacify the country in a matter of weeks, that it would be a ‘bloodless blitzkrieg’ (p.56). The Russian attack began in November 1994 and was dogged by failure of every kind – ‘The plan was doomed from the start’.

Compare and contrast the over-optimistic advice given to George W. Bush about the invasion of Iraq, ‘they’ll be welcoming us with open arms and throwing flowers’ etc.

Compare and contrast Britain’s defence staff telling Tony Blair they could easily cope with policing Basra and sending troops to Helmand Province in Afghanistan, no problem.

Compare and contrast the Russian military establishment assuring Putin they could invade Ukraine, overthrow the government and elect a Russia-friendly administration within a week.

These military advisers, eh? Maybe the beginning of wisdom is never trust anything your military advisers tell you.

The First Chechen war (December 1994 to August 1996)

The First Chechen War was a disaster for the Russian army. It has been outsmarted and outfought, even losing cities to a ramshackle guerrilla army. All the inefficiencies, brutality and corruption of the army had been put on public display. (p.67)

The Second Chechen War (August 1999 to April 2000)

This time the Russians had a better plan and knew to advance slowly, pacifying and securing territory as they went, rather than the strategy in the first was which was to race to the capital Grozny leaving all the territory outside under the control of insurgents.

The Russo-Georgian War (August 2008 Russo-Georgian War)

The underwhelming performance of the military in Georgia… (p.88)

In 2008 when mighty Russia took on tiny Georgia, more than a quarter of all the armoured vehicles deployed simply broke down before they even reached the battlefield. (p.239)

It only lasted a week but, according to Galeotti, it was a war of blunders, including the bombing of abandoned airfields, officers lost to friendly fire and advances halted by broken-down vehicles (p.120). From his point of view – concerned with the issue of military reform – this little offensive was important because it gave Shogai and Putin the ammunition they needed to push through their sweeping reforms against resistance from the Army staff.

Annexing Crimea

Crimea had been part of the Russian empire for centuries and only (rashly) given by Nikita Khrushchev to the Ukraine Soviet Republic in 1954. So it was a prime example of the Greater Russia argument, the argument that, at the chaotic collapse of the Soviet Union, many territories which had for centuries been part of Russia were abruptly included in what were suddenly newly independent nations, often against the wishes of their Russian minorities.

Thus Ukrainians in western Ukraine were thrilled when their popular Euromaidan uprising led to the overthrow of Russia-leaning president Viktor Yanukovych and the establishment of a western-friendly government, but the large Russian minority in Crimea was genuinely scared, especially when the Kiev government indicated that they were going to remove Russian as an official language, remove Russian street signs etc. All this played into Putin’s master narrative:

In his 2021 essay ‘On the Historical Unity of Russians and Ukrainians’, Putin referred to Russians, Ukrainians and Belarusians as ‘one people’ making up a triune Russian nation. He maintained that large parts of Ukraine are historical Russian lands and claimed there is ‘no historical basis’ for the ‘idea of Ukrainian people as a nation separate from the Russians’.

Reading Galeotti’s account of the annexation of Crimea, what’s impressive was the lack of violence and Russian brutality. Russia infiltrated special units (Galeotti, of course, gives minute detail of just what units, led by which commanders, were deployed where) to all the key command points before the Ukraine high command had cottoned on to what was happening.

Crimea was an extraordinary military success. (p.178)

Local support

A key point is that a lot of Crimeans are ethnic Russians and genuinely welcomed the annexation. Putin organised a quick referendum and claimed 97% of the population approved the annexation (p.177). Do they think the rest of the world is stupid? Or are they so trapped inside their chauvinist box that they think Soviet-era electoral fictions are viable? Maybe both. They might as well have claimed 200% of the electorate wanted reunification with Russia. This kind of thing brings down derision and contempt on the Putin administration but they don’t see it.

And all along, as Galeotti points out, it isn’t necessary. If they had held a free and fair referendum, chances are the pro-Russian vote would still have won. But the Russian political elite has no concept of what democracy is and how to use it. The heirs to 250 years of Mongol khans and 400 years of tsars and 75 years of communist totalitarianism, the Russian elite literally knows no other way of ruling except via top-down diktats.

Comparison of Russian nationalism and Islamism

A key point, and a running thread through the book, is that in all these conflicts – Chechnya, Georgia, Moldova, Ukraine – the situation was made messy and confusing by the involvement of local militias. Chechnya is fascinating because some of the forces fighting the Russians were straight nationalists but, given the era and the proximity to Afghanistan, many of them were Islamic groups fighting for something else entirely, for the creation of an Islamic Caliphate in the Caucasus.

In a sense this kind of Islamic ideology and Russia’s chauvinism have a lot in common in that 1) they both inspire a kind of messianic intensity of belief and, 2) on a more practical level, that they don’t believe in borders. Greater Russia chauvinism flies free of accepted borders, borders are the enemy, keeping good Russians trapped in foreign countries created by an alien settlement somehow engineered by the perfidious West. Russia will only be great when these invalid nation states are swept away and the borders redrawn to include all true Russians in the genuine Greater Russia.

Identically the same with Islamist ideology, which believes all the borders and nation states of the Middle East were created by Western imperialists and the region will only be strong and pure when all believers are united in the restored caliphate, free of the trappings of the imperial West.

It’s a match made in heaven.

The role of militias in near Russian countries

To come back to the role of local militias, something which makes all the Russia wars feel very distinctive is that they were and are fought in places which are already riven by ethnic and tribal and cultural division. To read about Chechnya and Georgia is to be impressed by how fissile those ‘nations’ already were. The authorities in Georgia’s capital, Tbilisi, had only nominal control over the entire region of South Ossetia which was packed with pro-Russian separatists or, over to the west, on the Black sea coast, with the region of Abkhazia, ditto.

These are ‘countries’ which 1) already featured a large pro-Russian community and 2) were and are characterised by a high level of clan and tribal attachment which converts into tribal politicians, tribe-based mafias and, by an easy extension, clan-based militias.

The complicated role played by local militias in very clan-based, feuding societies is a central feature of all these conflicts.

Donbas and beyond

And continued in the Ukraine. For even as he was infiltrating his troops into Crimea for what proved to be a surprisingly bloodless annexation (February 2014), Putin was also encouraging local pro-Russian militias in eastern Ukraine.

The fascinating aspect of Galeotti’s account is how the conflict in the Donbas region of eastern Ukraine began spontaneously, with coalitions of independence politicians, activists, and rag-tag militias taking on the Ukrainian authorities. It certainly wasn’t a carefully planned operation like the annexation of Crimea, the opposite, and for some time the Kremlin didn’t know how to react. To begin with they began to siphon military hardware to the more successful pro-Russian militias, followed, after some months, by military advisers.

Galeotti says that in these early phases the aim was to warn the new pro-western regime in Kiev of the consequences of allying with the West, no more. However, as the Ukraine army got its act together and, working with pro-government militias, began to drive the pro-Russia forces East, the Kremlin had to decide whether to acquiesce in their defeat or escalate. They chose to escalate and sent in regular Russian troops, breaching the sovereignty of a European nation (p.187).

Galeotti describes the two ceasefire treaties, Minsk 1 and Minsk 2, their predictable failure, and the settling down of the problem into a permanent low-level conflict. It reminded me of some of the civil wars I’ve read about in Africa, contested borders, governments relying on local militias, all sides using exemplary violence i.e. carrying out atrocities on unarmed civilians designed to warn other villages and towns to surrender without a fight.

As 2014 turned into 2015 and 2016 the Ukrainians reformed and reinforced their army with a huge recruitment drive, better training, new kit. They drove the rebels back but could never win because whenever they looked close to victory, the Russians deployed a regiment to block them.

So the pattern was one of on-off ceasefires, trench warfare, sporadic local fighting, mutual sniping and shelling, and equally mutual recrimination, until 2022 when Putin decided that it was time to break the stalemate. (p.191)

Syria, the unexpected intervention

We in the West think the Arab Spring was a spontaneous uprising of oppressed peoples across the Middle East to overthrow their corrupt old rulers. See my review of:

From the paranoid perspective of the Kremlin, though, it looked a lot like the uprisings were the work of a West systematically getting rid of traditional Soviet allies (Gaddafi, Saddam, Bashar al-Assad). At the UN, Russia acquiesced in the West’s bombing of Libyan forces but felt betrayed when this led not to a ceasefire but to the overthrow of Gaddafi. All of this, of course, was in light of America’s overthrow of Saddam Hussein in 2003 which led not to a pleasant democracy but the collapse of the Iraqi state and chaos within and beyond its borders.

So Russia had at least three reasons for stepping in to prop up the Assad regime:

  1. the Assad family had been a friend and ally in the region: why not make him really indebted to you by saving his skin?
  2. as a message to America that Russia, too, could throw its weight around / be a regional force in the Middle East
  3. genuine concern that if Assad, too, fell, the whole Syria-Iraq strip of territory would fall to ISIS or other Islamist groups, which Russia has genuine cause to fear

Regarding ISIS, see my review of:

Regarding the international aspects of the Syrian civil war, see my review of:

The events of the Syrian civil war are complicated. But for Russia its intervention was surprisingly successful. It showed itself and the West that it could project its power significantly beyond its borders. It saved an old ally, thus bolstering its credibility. It served as a useful blooding ground for large parts of the Russian army, navy and air force, which were rotated through the theatre. It allowed the military to road test new technology, especially new drones, and to road test new doctrines and strategies for different situations and types of engagement.

It also marked the high point and maybe eclipse of the Wagner group of mercenaries, who were vital in holding the line during some attacks alongside the prone-to-run-away Syrian army, but also taught the Russian high command to keep them in their place.

Invasion of Ukraine

The 2022 invasion of Ukraine and the poor performance of Russia’s troops… (p.89)

Requires a post of its own…

List of post-Soviet conflicts Russia has been involved in

  • Transnistria war – November 1990 to July 1992
  • First Chechen war – December 1994 to August 1996
  • Tajikistan civil war – May 1992 to June 1997
  • Yugoslavia – 1992 to 1995 Russian forces were part of the UN peacekeeping force
  • Second Chechen War – August 1999 to April 2009
  • Russo-Georgian War – 7 to 12 August 2008
  • Russian forces joined international anti-pirate patrols off the coast of Somalia
  • Annexation of Crimea – February 2014
  • Start of Donbas war – February 2014
  • Syrian civil war – from 2015 Russian forces supported the Assad government
  • Second Nagorno-Karabakh War – 27 September to 10 November 2020 –Russia sent peacekeeping force in 2021
  • Invasion of Ukraine – 20 February 2014 to the present

Table of contents

For your information, here is a straight copy of the book’s table of contents, from which you can see its comprehensive scope and level of detail:

1. Before Putin

  1. Born in chaos
    • The Soviet Disunion
    • The August coup
    • Boris Yeltsin: the man without a plan
  2. A military in crisis
    • An army gone bad
    • Nukes for sale?
    • Bringing the boys back home
    • Empty dreams
    • ‘Pasha Mercedes’
  3. The first Chechen war
    • Resistance and resentment
    • High hopes, quick defeats
    • The plan
    • Taking Grozny…
    • … and losing Grozny again
  4. The wars of Russian assertion
    • Moldova’s post-Soviet hangover
    • Central Asia: the Tajikistan contingent
    • Balkan dash

2. Enter Putin

  1. Putin’s priorities
    • Who is Vladimir Putin?
    • Putin in charge
    • Putin’s ministers
  2. The second Chechen war
    • Round two
    • Retaking Grozny
    • Operation Wolf Hunt
    • The creation of ‘Kadyrovstan’
    • Lessons learned
  3. Ivanov, the Initiator
    • My name’s Ivanov, Sergei Ivanov
    • The spy and generals
    • Ivanov’s reforms
    • Size does matter
  4. Sedyukov, the Enforcer
    • Enter the taxman
    • Serdyukov’s purge
    • And enter Makarov
    • The Georgian excuse
  5. Georgia 2008: Tblisi’s move…
    • Harbingers
    • Provoking a war
    • The Georgian advance
    • The battle for Tskhinvali
    • The Russian advance
  6. Georgia 2008: …Moscow’s counter
    • The tide turns
    • The Abkhaz front
    • The audit
    • Did anything work well?
  7. ‘New Look’ army
    • Command and control: unified battle management
    • The ground forces: divisions to brigade
    • The air forces: rationalised
    • The navy: integrated at last
    • The airborne: survival

3. The New Cold War

  • Shoigu, the Rebuilder
    • Who is Sergei Shoigu?
    • ‘A servant to the tsar, a father to the soldiers’
    • General Gerasimov
    • Rearmament and recruitment
    • Ready for action
  • Crimea, 2014
    • Russia and Ukraine
    • ‘Returning Crimea to Russia’
    • Taking Crimea
    • Enter the ‘little green men’
    • ‘Crimea is ours’
    • An audit of the operation
  • Donbas, 2014-
    • Strelkov’s spark
    • A war of irregulars
    • The ‘Northern wind’
    • The fixing of the conflict
    • Stalemate
  • Lessons of the Donbas war
    • Command and control in a proxy war is hard
    • Information warfare is a powerful force multiplier
    • Implausible deniability has its place
    • Drones are the next big thing
  • Syria 2015 (1): the unexpected intervention
    • A long, bloody war
    • A friend in need
    • Heading to Hmeymin
    • Hmeymin’s hammer
    • Turning the tide
    • Victory of sorts
  • Syria 2015 (2); lessons of the Syrian campaign
    • Airpower is not (usually) enough
    • Mercenaries have their place, but need to know it
    • Brutality can work, but hearts and minds matter, too
    • Frenemies can find themselves in battle
    • A nice little war is good for business

4. Rearming Russia

  1. Rumble for ruble
    • When comparisons fail
    • ‘Let us starve, but let us export’
    • The metal-eaters
    • Buyer beware
    • Modernising the military
  2. Armiya Rossii
    • The battalion tactical group
    • The return of the division
    • Heavy metal
    • Specialised forces for specialised operations
    • Logistics
    • Capabilities
  3. The sky is Russia’s!
    • Always in transition
    • The aerospace forces
    • Defence of the motherland
    • Fist of the motherland
    • Heavy lift
    • Drones
  4. Contesting the sea
    • Never a naval power
    • Rusted, rebuilt
    • Organisation
  5. Power projection: blue and black berets
    • ‘Nobody but us’
    • By parachute, plane or track
    • The black berets
    • ‘Black Devils’
    • ‘Where we are, there is victory!’
    • Underwater sentinels
  6. The Spetsnaz
    • Special people, for special tasks
    • Tip of the spear
    • Putin’s Spetsnaz
    • The special operations command
  7. The nuclear backstop
    • Post-Soviet armageddon
    • Rail, road and tube
    • Under the waves
    • Strategic aviation
    • Modernisation and magic
    • Why nukes matter so much [they bolster Russia’s sense of itself as still a superpower]

5. The Future

  1. Political warfare
    • The rise of the spooks
    • Hybrid, ambiguous, non-linear, political
    • Outsourced warfighters [the Wagner group]
    • Information warfare
  2. New generation warfare
    • Small wars
    • Limited deployments
    • Big wars
    • Escalation, de-escalation and lesser apocalypses
  3. The challenges of the future
    • The Western flank
    • … And the turbulent South Caucasus, too
    • Central Asia: instability and jihad
    • China, the great frenemy
  4. Ukraine 2022: Putin’s last war?
    • Not the generals’ war
    • A police action, not a war
    • From Kyiv to the Donbas
    • How hubris destroyed a military
    • Deadlock
  5. Conclusions: the Eurasian Sparta?
    • A nation under arms?
    • The military myth
    • The security state?
    • A weak hand played well
    • After Putin?
  6. Ukraine 2023: a dispatch on a war in progress
    • The paradox of reform
    • War Putinism
    • The mutiny
    • The war in Russia
    • The imagination race
    • Prospects

General conclusions

The whole spectacle confirms my strong feeling that human beings simply cannot govern themselves. The naive expect humanity to take some kind of concerted action against climate change. Really? With people like this in charge?

Are modern wars doomed to failure?

Are modern wars winnable? When was the last time either Russia or America actually won a war?

For the Russians – Afghanistan, Chechnya, Georgia, Yugoslavia, Syria, Ukraine.

For the Americans – Vietnam, Afghanistan, Iraq.

Russian lies

I watched the BBC TV series ‘Putin and the West’ in which French president Francoise Hollande and British Prime Minister David Cameron baldly stated that Putin is a liar. Hollande said not only is Putin a liar but his entire approach to diplomacy is to lie, his strategy is based on lying about everything.

The Russians even lie when the lie is so blatant and absurd it damages their own cause. Galeotti’s book contains some nice examples. In 1993 during the Georgian war the Russians broke a ceasefire agreement by bombing Sukhumi while it was still held by Georgian forces.

Russian defence minister Grachyov responded with the implausible and widely derided claim that these were Georgian aircraft painted with Russian colours, bombing their own positions as a provocation. (p.122)

In moments like that you can see how lying is such second nature to the Russian establishment that it can’t see how stupid and ridiculous it makes them look to the outside world. This was captured in a recent press event in Delhi where Russian foreign minister Lavrov claimed the Ukraine war started when Ukraine attacked Russia and went on to claim that Russia was trying to halt this unfortunate war.

This is Göbbels-level lying which is so absurd that it makes you worry about the sanity of the Russian leadership. Putin ordered the military invasion of Ukraine but, having read Galeotti’s book it’s easy to think that Putin and his circle genuinely believe that they invaded the territory of a neighbouring country because they genuinely see Ukraine’s defection to the West as a kind of attack on Russia, on Russia’s idea of itself, on the Russian nationalist belief that Ukraine and Belarus aren’t independent nations at all. They felt culturally, psychologically and strategically ‘attacked’ and so sincerely believe that the military invasion was a justified response to the Ukraine government’s insult and threat to Russian hegemony.

At moments like this you can see how the Russian elite inhabits a different mindset, in effect a different reality, from the rest of the world, utterly blinded by their Greater Russia nationalism and prepared to do anything to protect it.

But there is, of course, an alternative interpretation, which is that a lot of these lies uttered in public fora are for domestic consumption. Edited by Russia’s totally cowed and quiescent media, they can then be broadcast on the nightly news, with the laughter track removed and roars of applause edited in.

Yes, it’s important to remember that the Russian government lies to everyone including its own people, and that if anyone finds out the truth and starts broadcasting it they are quickly locked up or pushed out a window or die of mystery poison. But then being lied to by your government is another venerable old Russian tradition. This isn’t my prejudice, it is a factual point Galeotti makes over and over again:

Russians have decades’ or even centuries’ experience of being lied to by their governments, especially regarding wars… (p.375)

The Russian bearhug

There’s a hoary old proverb about Mexico, ‘Poor Mexico! So far from God, so close to the United States!’ How much more true this is of every nation which borders Russia today. China, Mongolia and Kazakhstan probably needn’t be too worried, too big, nothing to steal.

But poor Georgia, Belarus, Latvia, Estonia and Finland – the Putin Doctrine, the concepts of Greater Russia, near abroad, Russian irredentism, Russian neo-imperialism, Russian nationalism – all these variations on the same theme mean the leaders and peoples of those countries must be permanently anxious about whether Russia will attack and invade them next.

It’s unlikely, seeing as most of the Russian army’s resources are deployed to – and being consumed in – Ukraine. But in planning for the future, the next five, ten years, should they be factoring in invasion by Russia?

Thank God there’s the whole length of Europe between my country and the resentful, angry, permanently aggrieved Russian bear.

War with China?

Although I’ve spent my entire life worrying about a nuclear war, subjected to movies and novels and documentaries about the horror of a nuclear war with the USSR or Russia, and although Putin and his mouthpieces go on and on about the threat from ‘the West’, Galeotti disarmingly says Russia is never going to face the threat of an invasion by NATO. Do you think the people of Belgium or Italy or Austria would ever want to attack Russia? Why? Let its people stew in the repressive authoritarian culture which they seem to love and recreate in every generation.

Galeotti argues that the real threat is China. The majority and the best Russian armed and air forces are concentrated in the west of the country, all on high alert for the mythical invasion by Holland and Denmark and Lithuania which is never going to come. But what about the vast area of Siberia?

Galeotti explains that during the imperial nineteenth century Russia seized large bits of territory from China. In principle these borders were re-agreed by a treaty of 2008, but what if China wants them back? Russia’s border with China is 4,000 kilometres long and very thinly protected (p.339).

The relationship between China and Russia is set to become more asymmetrical with China increasingly becoming the economic master and Russia the vassal. Deprived of trade with the West because of Ukraine sanctions, Russia is increasingly forced to sell its oil and gas to China which is aware of its partner’s weakness. What if China’s demands for unequal trade deals slowly, steadily increase? And apparently there has been growing concern in the FSB, some of it expressed publicly, at the growth of Chinese cyber activity against Russia, spying and hacking. And what about China’s growing influence in the five vast ‘stan’ countries to Russia’s south, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, Turkmenistan, and Uzbekistan, where Chinese promises of investment and cash prove more attractive than Moscow’s penniless bullying? Likelihood is all these tensions will slowly ratchet up, the direction of travel is one way, with Russia contracting before an ever-growing China…

All of Russia east of the Urals is serviced by just two enormous train lines both of which could be easily ruptured and then none of its western forces could be redeployed. Any incursion could not be contained by forces which can’t reach the battlefield and so it is here, out East, that any escalation to battlefield nuclear weapons and beyond is most likely, or least unlikely. Discuss.

Over-optimistic?

The paperback edition of the book has a final chapter written in August 2023 covering the war in Ukraine up to that date and moving onto political conclusions. Galeotti’s account of the war (as of all the other wars he covers) is brisk and very readable, it’s his broader conclusions I question.

Writing in 2022, Galeotti pulls together a raft of evidence to suggest the war has been a disaster for Putin and Russia, it’s the end of the Russian army, public opinion is turning against him, draft dodging is up, there have been firebombing of draft offices, social media is awash with soldiers bitterly complaining about being used as cannon fodder, strongly implying that the president’s days are numbered and throwing in the old canard about him being ill, cancer, some immune disease etc.

It starts out sensible and maybe each of the strands are true, but life isn’t that sweet. There is no justice. Russia is an autocratic nation, ruled for its entire history by lying dictators. It’s not being pessimistic, it’s being coldly realistic, to assume that this will never change.


Credit

‘Putin’s Wars: from Chechnya to Ukraine’ by Mark Galeotti was published by Osprey Publishing in 2022.

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Nam June Paik at Tate Modern

Nam June Paik (1932 to 2006) was a Korean American artist. He worked with a variety of media and is considered the founder of video art. He is credited with an early usage (1974) of the term ‘electronic super highway’ in application to telecommunications. (Wikipedia)

This is a major retrospective exhibition of the work of Korean-American artist Nam June Paik, a collaboration between Tate Modern and San Francisco Museum of Modern Art.

It’s the most comprehensive survey of the artist’s work ever staged in the UK, bringing together over 200 works – from early compositions and performances, to sculptures, photos and paintings, magazines and drawings – through to rooms full of videos and large-scale television installations, and a final room which is a large scale, pulsating and very loud, multi-media rock installation.

Sistine Chapel (1993) Courtesy of the Estate of Nam June Paik

The Korean War ended in 1953 with South Korea saved from communist tyranny, and the country which saved it – at such cost in blood and money – the USA, proceeded to invest heavily in the South, fuelling a technology and consumer boom.

Paik developed as an artist during this boom and right from the start was interested in the incongruity of a still, in many ways undeveloped, traditional and Buddhist culture taking on the trappings of Middle American consumer capitalism. Hence his frequent images and assemblies playing with and highlighting the clash of these two cultures.

TV Buddha by Nam June Paik (1974) Stedelijk Museum, Amsterdam

When he, inevitably, traveled to America, he was put in touch with other opponents of the swamping consumer culture, the Beat poets like Allen Ginsberg, or the collection of artists musicians and performers at the Black Mountain College, North Carolina, which was home to all sorts of eminent artists and performers, notably the composer John Cage and the choreographer Merce Cunningham.

Cage had an explosive impact on young Paik – he showed him that art can be made out of anything, incorporate any technology, and use chance and randomness. A man on stage twiddling through radio stations can, in the right circumstances be a work of art. A television showing an endless loop of imagery, or weird incandescent patterns you’ve generated to be played through it… or a TV with a magnet on top which distorts the images, or a large magnetic loops around the front with a fluctuating current going through it which makes the images bend and distort.

Why can’t all or any of this be art? After all, this was the age of the atom bomb and the Cold War, when the entire world might be reduced to a smouldering cinder in half an hour if someone pressed the wrong button. How could you possibly go on painting like Rembrandt or Constable in a world like that?

You needed something that responded to the urgency and the crisis of the times. And television seemed to be the new medium, the one through which entertainment and government lies poured in equal measure. A medium which could potentially be used for education and to bring the world together. Or to promote lies and ideology which would tear the world apart.

Why not address its ever-growing centrality, deconstruct it, take it to bits, satirise it, parody it, build sculptures out of it?

TV robots by Nam June Paik

Room by room

This exhibition feels really comprehensive. It’s massive and feels packed with stuff, but still manages to be imaginatively spaced and staged. Its twelve big rooms contain:

Introduction

Paik travelled to work in the US, Germany and Japan. He always questioned not just national borders but professional demarcations – and liked working with collaborators, not just artists, but dancers and musicians, and also fleets of technicians who helped him build robots and experiment with TV technology.

Buddhism. Many of his inventions use Buddhist motifs, from the image of a Buddha statue relayed via a CCTV at the start, to the penultimate room which contains a single lit candle with a camera pointing at it, and the image of the flickering flame reproduced on screens and projected onto the wall.

TV Garden

‘A future landscape where technology is an integral part of the natural world.’ The idea is supposedly related to Paik’s Buddhist feel for the way everything and everyone is connected in the spirit world and, increasingly, in a world dominated by new technology. But it is in fact a load of rubber plants with TV monitors arranged among them.

TV Garden 1974 to 1977 (2002) Tate Modern 2019. Kunstsammlung Nordrhein-Westfalen, Dusseldorf

Googling images of this, you can see that in some places the plants were set among stones in what looks like an actual low-growing garden. Tell you where would be a good place for these – the greenhouse at the Barbican.

Global Groove

According to the wall label: ‘This colourful fast-paced video mixes high and popular cultures, with imagery from traditional and contemporary, Western and non-Western sources.’

Far out, man! Look at the crazy picture distortion and mirroring effects! Top of the Pops 1973!!

From quite early on you get the feeling that all of this – the obsession with TV, the notion of the global village, lumbering robots, pop music and pop videos – it all seems incredibly dated. When I saw that the magnets placed around TV sets were being used to distort speeches by Richard Nixon I realised were in that kind of art, art gallery, curatorial time loops which is obsessed with the 1960s and their crappy hangover in the 1970s. The Vietnam War, the Beatles, Allen Ginsberg chanting blues to his harmonium, Woodstock, Watergate – yeah, man, it was all one heavy trip.

Even in the massive multi-media ‘experience’ which climaxes the exhibition in which a disorientiating stream of intercut images and clips and sounds and music are projected onto the walls and ceiling of the final room, I was astonished when prolonged clips came up of Janis Joplin singing her heart out. She died of a heroin overdose in died 1970.

In one darkened room is a huge wall of TV sets with other big TV monitors on the other walls and it seems to be playing a kind of multinational, global mashup of videos from various cultures, all treated to look over-coloured, cut-up and treated and all playing to… a soundtrack of Beatles songs! – titled Video Commune (Beatles beginning To End) and dating from 1970. Old. Old, old, old.

It is all just about near enough to be sort of familiar, but also old enough to smell musty like grandad.

Electronic music

Paik actually studied to be a classical musician and was an extremely able pianist. Some of the clips of Beethoven featuring in various vidoes are played by him. But when he moved to Germany in 1956 and met Karlheinz Stockhausen and John Cage, it blew his mind daddy-oh.

In 1963 he hosted a one-man show at a villa converted into a gallery stuffed with immersive environments and sculptures which required audience involvement. There were musical instruments modified by the artist, three customised pianos in the Cage manner (Cage composed quite a lot of music for pianos which had had nuts and bolts and screws and elastic bands inserted between the keys or into the wires. They’re surprisingly listenable. Paik took this approach to the next level.

Zen for Wind took lots of random dangling objects which a breath of wind made brush against each other, jingle jangle. Visitors could record their own sounds and snippets on tape recorders and hear them reproduced at random through loudspeakers.

Paik’s friend the German artist Joseph Beuys destroyed one of the pianos and Paik liked it so much he left it on display. Ah, those were the days. Such rebels, back in a time when rebellion had meaning.

Some of Paik’s Cage-like music, some of the dangling objects and one of the pianos are on display here in this exhibition. It was ironic to read on all the wall labels how Paik wanted his visitors to interact with the pieces and then turn to them to find them all protected by plastic covers or behind tripwires which set off alarms.

Installation view of Nam June Paik at Tate Modern

No, children, you could play with these dusty old toys once upon a time, even smash them up for fun, but now times are very different and every scrap of paper and piece of old cable which was ever handled by a Great Artist is now a precious Work of Art, which would fetch millions on the current art market, and so must be protected, curated, catalogued and carefully stored away.

That’s what happens to avant-gardes – they fall into the hands of galleries and curators where their entire disruptive, anarchic charge is neutralised, surgically removed, and replaced by polite wall labels and security barriers.

Merce Cunningham

There’s a room devoted to Paik’s collaborations with and riffing off the work of Cage and choreographer Merce Cunningham, including the film Zen for Film a, blank film ‘exploring themes of emptiness, boredom and random interference’ – and Merce by Merce by Paik.

Charlotte Moorman

As a thoroughly trained classical musician Paik was well placed to make his comment that sex was everywhere in art and literature and yet almost completely absent from the classical canon.

Why is sex, a predominant theme in art and literature, prohibited ONLY in music?

(For a start that shows the extreme limits of his knowledge of contemporary and pop culture: I think even a casual examination would have shown him that popular songs, jazz, blues, rock’n’roll, pop and rock music is OBSESSED with sex.)

So he set out to address this glaring error in a collaboration with classical cellist Charlotte Moorman which lasted for nearly thirty years. Basically, these involved getting Moorman to play the cello in various states of undress, topless, bottomless, totally nude, or with various objects taped onto her boobs, for example mirrors, or what looked like little display cases.

This was such a 60s idea it made me giggle. What’s so funny about peace, love and understanding, man? A big quote from Moorman is printed on the wall of her saying that, in the age of nuclear weapons and Vietnam, you couldn’t expect artists to make art like in the old days. She became known as the Topless Cellist.

Thus there are films of performances which involved Charlotte playing the cello nude, or with mirrors or even small TV monitors taped to her breasts, or playing a TV monitor as if it was a cello, or playing a man sitting in front of her as if he was a cello and, most impressively, climbing topless into a column of oil drums filled with water then climbing out again.

The idea that having women strip off, taking their clothes off or taping things to their boobs, would somehow revolutionise music or put the sex back into classical music is so laughable as to be sweet and quaint.

If there’s one thing that Charlotte Moorman is not, it’s sexy. She looks like a nice young lady who’s decided to take her clothes off to make a statement. But just taking your clothes off does not make you sexy, as anyone who’s been in a gym or swimming pool changing room and looked around knows: it just makes you someone who’s taken their clothes off, often enough a rather pitiable sight. Here she is, combining Paik’s two themes, playing a cello made of television sets.

Charlotte Moorman with TV Cello and TV Eyeglasses (1971) Peter Wenzel Collection

Joseph Beuys

Paik encountered the Zero Group in Dusseldorf in 1961, which included the eccentric German artist Joseph Beuys. They remained close friends and made various collaborations. One of the later ones is a long video of Beuys on stage somewhere, standing wearing his trademark hat and army flak jacket and howling howling howling like a coyote into a microphone.

This room contains a full-sized Mongolian yurt, because Paik felt very in touch with the Mongolian part of his heritage. It’s an impressive object, easily big enough to bend slightly and walk into. It was Paik’s contribution to the German pavilion at the 1993 Venice Biennale.

Mongolian tent by Nam June Paik (1993)

The Sistine Chapel

As mentioned above, the penultimate room contains a flickering flame with a camera pointing at it, and projected on the walls. But this pales into comparison with the elaborate scaffolding which projects a mashup of footage onto the walls and ceiling of the final room all to a deafening rock and blues and classical splice track.

The sound is impressive and the images are sort of immersive, but what really impresses is how much bloody scaffolding and structure it took to project these images. I wonder if the same effect could be achieved nowadays with a fraction of the equipment… as in the nearby exhibition of contemporary immersive artist, Olafur Eliasson. And if so, the thing is impressive less for its effects, than for indicating how laborious and heavy and complicated it was back in 1993, to achieve something which can be done with a few hidden projectors nowadays…

Installation view of Nam June Paik at Tate Modern. Photo by the author

Nothing dates faster than old TV

Well, OK, some things do, bread for example. Or pop music. But not much dates faster and more completely than televison. Watching TV clips of Richard Nixon or John Cage or Janis Joplin or hearing tracks by the Beatles from the 1960s conveys a deep psychological sense that we have stepped back in time not just a few decades, but back into what, is now, a different century – a time which is fast becoming incomprehensible in its political and artistic naivety and optimism

I really enjoyed the exhibition because of its quaint sense of being dated and old. I liked the quaint old bakelite TV sets Paik made his television robots out of, or the extremely ancient tape recorders on which he made his cutting edge music compilations in the 1960s.

But nothing dates faster than old visions of the future. Paik’s wall of video monitors is wonderfully redolent of the 1980s, of MTV and the TV generation. But the future would turn out not to be about walls of TV screens, but screens which are so small you can put them in your pocket or possibly be projected onto your glasses (still waiting for that to be perfected).

This is a beautifully assembled and laid out and clearly explained exhibition, and it explains why Paik was clearly one of the early international art superstars but – Tate’s promotional video includes the slogan THE FUTURE IS NOW. But this exhibition is all about THEN, and quite an outdated THEN at that. To me it ranged from the dated, to the very dated, to the really antique.

Some ancient robots and gizmos by Nam June Paik at Tate Modern.

A fascinating look at the world of a pioneer of TV art, or art for the TV age – but really bringing home the fact that that era, the TV era, is long gone, and we are well into a completely new era, of boundless new communication technologies, bringing with them new social ideas and issues, and new geopolitical threats, which have as yet been very little explored by artists.

Paik appears to have been the grand-daddy to the modern world of video art, a granddad whose pioneering work more or less ended around the same time as the analogue era, sometime in the mid-1990s. He was the great pioneer of analogue visual technology, a revered ancestor. Let’s tap the temple bell, and make a bow to his cheeky, funny, loud and inventive achievements.


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Genghis Khan by James Chambers (1999)

The greatest fortune a man can have is to conquer his enemy, steal his riches, ride his horses, and enjoy his women.
(Genghis Khan)

Genghis Khan was born sometime in the 1160s into a small clan of Steppe Mongols. From obscure origins he rose, through the power of his charisma, courage and canny alliances, to unite the disparate Mongol tribes into one huge, well-organised, ferocious and world-beating army.

By the time of his death in 1227 Genghis had subjugated more lands and more people in twenty-five years than the Romans did in four hundred. His successors built on his conquests until the empire he bequeathed stretched from Hungary in the west to the Pacific in the East, forming the largest continuous land empire the world has ever known.

James Chambers’s biography is a small, zippy book, part of the Sutton Pocket Biography series, designed, in their words, to be ‘highly readable brief lives of those who have played a significant part in history, and whose contributions still influence contemporary culture.’

At 100 small pages it’s a quick read – it only took me two hours to wing through it. But what makes this book different from most of the other biographies of Genghis is its distinctive approach: it starts out in the fairy tale tones of Mongol myth and legend, and never really quite transitions to the dry, factual approach most of us associate with normal ‘history’. Which makes it rather marvellous.

Thus Chambers starts his text without any introduction or explanation but by going straight into a retelling of the creation myth of the steppe Mongols. He tells us how the god of Eternal Heaven, Mongke Tengri, made all things, but humans didn’t appear until the grey wolf, the grey hunter, wandered down from his mountain and mated with a deer.

Detail of a Totem from Northern Mongolia showing a grey wolf and a white doe (Hun tomb, 3rd to 1st century BC). Born according to the will of the Sky, Borte Chino (Blue Wolf) is the ancestor of the Mongolians and his partner/wife is Gua Maral (Red Deer)

The story then skips forward ten generations to when the Mongols have bred and multiplied, and a direct descendant of the grey wolf’s firstborn, Dobun the Sagacious, marries a woman named Alan the Fair, who came from a tribe of hunters in the forest.

We learn how Alan had five sons and taught them to stick together but, after her death, the four eldest divided her herd between them and left the youngest, Bodunchar the Simple, to ride off alone on an ugly pony. When they repented of their meanness and went to find him, they discovered Bodunchar living in a hut on the banks of the river Onon and surviving by hunting duck with a trained hawk and begging mare’s milk from a clan camped nearby.

Once they’d taken Bodunchar back into the family, he tells them more about the nearby clan who’d helped him out, namely that they lack central organisation or a strong leader. And so the five sons of Alan the Fair proceed to attack the clan, stealing all their cattle and their women.

By the standard of the steppes there was nothing wrong in what Bodunchar and his brothers had done. In truth, as well as in legend, it was the way in which Turko-Mongol nomads had always lived, and the way in which they were to continue to live for several more generations. These nomads measured each other’s wealth by the numbers of their sheep and horses, and when the size of a clan’s herds increased, it was usually as a result of audacious raiding rather than patient husbandry. Ruthless opportunists like Bodunchar were regarded as heroes, and their success bred success. Warriors often moved from clan to clan, swearing new allegiances to the men most likely to protect their families and make them rich. Although the tribes and clans into which they were divided must have begun as extended families, their blood lines were soon diluted, not only because those with the best leaders attracted warriors from elsewhere, but also because it was the custom to marry outside the clan. Since bride prices were high, women were often acquired like horses on raiding parties. In such a society life was simple, selfish and precarious. (p.5)

Why are we being told all these stories about Alan the Fair and Bodunchar the Simple? Because shamans, the Mongol holy men, had prophesied that a descendant of Bonduchar would unite all the Mongol tribes and lead them to world conquest.

And so it is that, several generations later, a boy is born of Bonduchar’s line, a boy named Temüjin, one of the five children of Yesügei. In preparation, Chambers has described the confused and war-torn world Temüjin grew up in:

  • how the great city of Zhongdu (early Beijing) had been captured by Khitan horsemen from the steppes
  • how the Chinese Song empire had been weakened when the Tangut inhabitants of north-west China seceded to establish their own kingdom of Xi Xia
  • how the north had been wrested from the Khitan by a new wave of conquerors, the Jurchen who came from Manchuria and established a new dynasty they called the Jin
  • how the Jin feared invasion by other Mongol tribes and so allied with Tatar tribes who they paid to attack and break up the remaining Mongol forces
  • how one of the Mongol commanders who survived these attacks was Yesügei, of the Kiyat clan, who claimed descent from Bonduchar
  • and how Yesügei,  after kidnapping himself a wife – Ho’elun of the Onggirats – from a prince of the Merkits, had five children by her, one of whom was Temüjin – Mongol for ‘man of iron’
  • and how, aged just nine, Temüjin, lost his father Yesügei, poisoned by the tribe whose woman he stole to make his wife and Temüjin’s mother

And it was this Temüjin who would grow up to become Genghis Khan, one of the greatest, most successful but also most bloodthirsty conquerors of all time.

(NB Genghis Khan is an honorary name Temüjin was given after he had united the Mongol tribes, at the ripe age of 39. He was awarded it at a great assembly of all the Mongol tribes and clans, the Great Khuriltai held beneath the sacred mountain at the source of the river Onon in 1206 – Khan being the generic name for king or leader, and Genghis (probably) stemming from tengiz meaning ocean and so suggesting ‘King of Everything within the great ocean’ or ‘Oceanic King’, p.50).

The actual story of his rise to power is long and complex, mainly revolving around a sequence of alliances, at first with individuals who help or rescue young Temüjin from perilous situations (like Sorkun who helped Temüjin escape after he’d been captured and tied to a wooden yoke by the vengeful relatives of the first husband of Ho’elun, his mother, the woman kidnapped by his father Yesugei), then with more powerful clan leaders, slowly cultivating powerful men and drawing freelance warriors to his side.

Map of the Mongol Empire during Genghis’s lifetime, showing the complexity of the Mongol tribes and kingdoms he set out to unify, and the peoples living outside it e.g. the Chinese Jin Dynasty in the south-east (Source: Wikipedia)

And then the thing which set him apart from all his rival leaders and rival powers – his phenomenal gift for organisation, for imposing new laws on the Mongol tribes, for introducing a census and mass conscription, for organising his army into light and heavy cavalry with, later on, divisions devoted to siege equipment, provisioned with scaling ladders and sacks that could be turned into sandbags (p.72).

His army was systematically organised and rigorously disciplined. A division was known as a tumen and contained 10,000 men. Each tumen was divided into ten regiments of a thousand called a minghan. Each minghan contained ten squadrons of a hundred called a jagun and each jagunwas divided into ten troops called arbans. A large Mongol camp was called an ordu which is the origin of the English word ‘horde’.

Chambers goes on to describe the thorough training regime Genghis established for the army, along with the ‘staff college’ of his personal guard, which supplied the generals and senior commanders to each division. He explains the Mongols’ battle tactics and the transmission of information by a cohort of trained messengers using the fastest horses. Genghis set up staging posts every 25 miles in the territory he conquered, which were permanently manned with provisions and fresh horses, so that messengers could ride in relay in any direction across his empire bringing vital information. The messengers were wrapped up warm and wore a belt of small bells to alert the managers of the post that a rider was arriving, so the new horse could be saddled and ready.

The essence of Genghis Khan’s genius lay in his ability to recognise and develop a good idea, and above all in his instinctive capacity for meticulous planning and detailed organisation, a capacity which was all the more extraordinary in a man who had received no education. (p.65)

Map showing the campaigns of the Mongols from their heartland out across Asia. Note that China was divided under three rulers, the Jurchen Jin in the North, the Song dynasty in the south, and the Western Xia in the space between Tibet and Mongolia (source: Wikipedia)

Now a glance at Amazon shows you that there are quite a few books about Genghis Khan, some running to four or five hundred pages, and there is, of course, a lengthy Wikipedia article about him.

But most of these are westernised, factual accounts, which start in the way you’d expect, with factual accounts of the steppe, its peoples, their history, before moving on to give factual accounts based on a judicial analysis of the sources and the (scant) archaeological evidence.

In some of these more academic respects Chambers’ account is a bit lacking; I certainly found his description of the campaigns of the mature Genghis rather quick and difficult to follow.

But it matters not. I bet this is the only account which starts and then continues within the Mongol mindset. It takes the reader inside the world of mare’s milk and hawking, surviving off berries and raw fish, a world where an extended family possesses just nine horses and a tent set amid the vast limitless blankness of the steppe. A world where the wolf god mates with human women, and shamans correctly predict the future.

Admittedly, as Chambers’ account proceeds and actually gets onto the campaigning and battles, it becomes more and more factual, more like Wikipedia, and my interest waned a bit. It also describes the military massacres which occurred on a growing scale and made Genghis’s name a terror to future generations.

Notable among these were the rape of Zhongdu, an early name for what is now Beijing. It was already an enormous city, with a population of maybe a million, protected by a huge wall. After a prolonged siege, the Mongols finally breached the wall in 1215. Genghis ordered total annihilation and for one month the conquerors burned, murdered and raped. A year later visiting ambassadors described the streets as slippery with human fat. And they were shown a white hill outside the ruined city walls which was made out of human skulls. (This forced the Jin ruler, Emperor Xuanzong, to move his capital south to Kaifeng and abandon the northern half of his empire to the Mongols. Further Mongol campaigns were to lead to the collapse of the Jin dynasty in 1234.) It was the same year that the Magna Carta was signed in England.

Even worse was the prolonged campaign against Ala ad-Din Muhammad II, Shah of the Khwarezmian Empire from 1200 to 1220. Muhammad made the very unwise move of arresting and executing the envoys that Genghis had sent to him. This prompted the Mongol invasion of Khwarezmia, which resulted in its utter destruction. The Mongols razed every city they came to and massacred every single inhabitant: the lowest contemporary estimates were 700,000 dead for each of the cities of Merv and Balkh, and a million and a half each for Herat and Nishapur, where the heads of men, women and children were gathered into separate piles. These are widely considered the bloodiest massacres the world had seen until the 20th century.

‘I am the punishment of God…If you had not committed great sins, God would not have sent a punishment like me upon you.’ (Genghis Khan)

All this may well be true, but it’s another reason for finding the later part of the book less enjoyable.

Because my imagination had been so fired up by the opening, mythical chapters, and the way they wonderfully transport the reader into a genuinely remote and different other-world. These passages engrossed me like a children’s book does. It made me feel it was me fighting alongside Jebe the Arrow and Toghril the mighty, in a heroic alliance with the Naimans and the Tayichi’uts against enemy tribes like the Keraits and the Tatars, taking part in legendary conflicts like the wonderfully named Battle of the Seventy Felt Cloaks.

Reviews suggest that this short books leaves out a lot of the facts about Genghis, as known by modern historians. No doubt it does. But what it leaves in is the romance and fairy-tale feel of the wonderfully evocative names, the distant lifestyles, and the legendary stories about strange peoples and faraway places which for a happy couple of hours really caught my imagination.

The statue of Genghis Khan outside the parliament building in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia.


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