By David K. Shipler 

                Wedon’t know. That’s the honest answer.

In the bad old days of the SovietUnion, Kremlinologists could estimate the pecking order of the grisly men (almostalways men) who made up the governing Politburo by observing how they lined upatop Red Square’s Lenin mausoleum for the parade on November 7, the anniversaryof the Bolshevik Revolution. Or their positions as they walked into aceremonial hall. Or whose name adorned one or another declaration. Physical proximityto the General Secretary of the Communist Party was a clue to influence and apossible successor—and was watched closely by scholars, diplomats, andjournalists.

                Innerpolitics was encrypted then. Kremlinology was like a puzzle with only a fewvisible pieces. But looking back, the Soviet Kremlin seems less opaque thanVladimir Putin’s Kremlin today. There are no puzzle pieces now, only misfits orblanks filled by deduction, guesswork, and wishful thinking.

                Since Russia’sinvasion of Ukraine in February 2022, Putin’s political standing at home hasbeen an obsession in the West, where conventional wisdom has ricocheted backand forth. At first, he was a formidable foe, a canny calculator of militaryand diplomatic maneuvers. Then, when his army stalled in the face of Ukrainianresistance, he became a monstrous blunderer whose humiliation would surelybring him down.

                But ashe wielded his dictatorial powers to obliterate the remaining freedoms Russianshad gained since the Soviet collapse in 1991, Putin was the ruthless strongman,unconquerable in the moment. As the war ground into a bloody stalemate, however,and criticisms of the military escalated from the right, his pedestal showedcracks.

Then, he was pronounced weakenedand vulnerable when units of Wagner, the private militia, slipped from underhis thumb and launched an abortive mutiny by marching toward Moscow. “HowRevolt Undermines Putin’s Grip,” said the lead NewYork Times headline on June 25. The appraisal flipped two months later,after the (presumably non-accidental) plane crash that killed Wagner’s leader,Yevgeny Prigozhin. The lead Timesstory declared: “Mutineer Dead, Putin Projects Image of Might.”

So, which is it? A Russianpresident in peril or in command?

It could be both. Dictatorshipsrarely erode gradually. They are brittle, so they break without bending. Theyare invincible until suddenly they are not.

Putin’s case is hard to judge partlybecause of his one-man rule. No formal political structure exists either tosupport him, undermine him, or groom a successor and provide a transition. Atleast the Soviet Communist Party ruled through a Politburo whose head, theGeneral Secretary, operated in the context of political consensus. Even theauthoritarian structure—in the years after Stalin—was governed by broaderinterests than those of a single man.

Kremlin politics played out ofsight, for the most part, bursting into the open only on occasion. NikitaKhruschev was ousted as Soviet leader by the Politburo (then called thePresidium) in 1964. Dmitri Polyansky was kickedoff the Politburo in 1976 after catastrophic failures in agriculture, hisportfolio. There was no announcement, of course; Polyansky’s name was merelyomitted from the list of the new Politburo read to a Communist Party Congress.

Today, though, Putin answers to noofficial body. Who keeps him in power? The military? The FSB secret police? Andwho checks his authority? What restrains him, if anything? Does anyone hold himto account? Who would oust him? Who would choose his successor?

“Putin has created, in effect, his own protective army andpraetorian guard, which are loyal to him,” said Kenneth Yalowitz, former USambassador to Belarus and Georgia. “As long as that does not change, hisposition seems strong.” 

The other uncertainties incalculating Putin’s power are the war and the economy, a military adventuremarred by volatility and an economy hobbled by Western sanctions. Together theymight foster instability on high, but the opposite down below: an iron fistthat suppresses dissent and purges disloyalty. So, Putin acts strong, perhapsbecause he feels weak.

This anxiety at the top and controlat the bottom is a chronic symptom of Russian paranoia, from the communistperiod onward. It’s a paradox that fuels oppression. The pinnacle of powerfeels like an unsteady perch.

It was assumed, when Putin did notimmediately move against Prigozhin after the half-baked mutiny, that theRussian president had lost his aura of invincibility, and that whatever sharksswam in the political class sensed blood in the water.

But it’s possible that instead ofweakening Putin, the Wagner maneuver strengthened his hand for a high-levelcrackdown to match the low-level crackdown he has been executing against ordinarycitizens. With a sweep of his hand, he has turned the clock back to before thelate Soviet period. In the 1970s and 80s, it took more persistent and vociferousrecalcitrance to get arrested that it does today, when mild dissent can landyou in prison. On social media, at workplaces, in classrooms, people are afraidto question the war—or even to say the word “war.”

While the anti-war whispers havebeen stifled, the loud, pro-war dissent on the right has enjoyed immunity from theoppression. Pro-military bloggers have freely condemned the army’s performance,and Prigozhin was vitriolic in his criticisms. His mutinous caper might havegiven Putin the opportunity to put the brakes on the right as well.

Since it’s widely believed thatPutin ordered the efficient disposition of Prigozhin and his top lieutenantswho were on the downed plane, the Russian leader got what any dictator needs: afearsome posture intolerant of any self-enhancing figure who seeks independent influence.It didn’t matter that Prigozhin aimed his mutinous maneuver not at Putin but atthe defense minister and the chief of staff, both blamed for failures inUkraine. Putin called it treason nonetheless.

Then he waited two months whilePrigozhin traveled around freely. We can speculate about the pause inretribution. Perhaps Putin had to get his own military and secret police inline, to continue bringing most Wagner troops into the regular army, todiminish the chance of rebellion. In any event, just before the plane wentdown, he sidelined a general who had cozied up to the Wagner militia, and whosemilitary prowess failed to protect him.

The trouble for Putin is the war,obviously. He is stuck with it. He has rationalized the assault on Ukraine withsuch sweeping appeals to mystical Russian history and national destiny thatretreat or compromise would be taken as unfaithful to his country’s cause—andhis own.

So, the war’s fate is to be Putin’sfate. Therefore, he has every motivation to continue, certainly past the 2024American election in case his admirer Donald Trump wins the White House andmakes good on his campaign pledge to abandon Ukraine. Like it or not, a votenext year will be a vote for or against Putin—look for intensive Russianinterference in the campaign. If Trump wins and cuts aid, NATO will fractureand Ukraine’s formidable resistance will wither over time.

 Another factor in Putin’s strength andlongevity is the level of popular discontent in Russia. That is hard to measurein a semi-closed society. Polls are suspect, because people give safe answers. Correspondentsexperienced in Russia try to take the temperature of the public, but citizensare circumspect, and journalists who get to close to the pulse become targets. WallStreet Journal reporter Evan Gershkovich, fluent in Russian and deeply conversantwith Russian society, has been in jail since March on trumped-up charges ofespionage. Most Western correspondents now try to cover the country fromoutside.

During Russia’s fruitless war inAfghanistan, popular resentment bubbled up, driven by relatives whose sons andgrandsons and brothers and husbands were coming back in body bags. The reformistMikhail Gorbachev was propelled to power in part by disaffection over thatfailed foreign adventure.

“Putin is relying on the very strong Russian propensity tosupport the leader in time of war even if they have doubts about him. This isparticularly true in the villages,” said Yalowitz, the former ambassador who knowsRussia well from four years as a diplomat in Moscow. Still, he added, “Theeconomic sanctions are doing serious damage to the Russian economy, and thatplus the brain drain will cost Russia for years to come.” That could be asource of weakness for Putin.

Even if discontent over the currentwar grew enough to overcome the jingoistic propaganda that now saturatesschools and media, the Russian non-democracy has no mechanism to translatecitizens’ attitudes into political policy. The lines of cause-and-effect areblurred and indirect. The change of mind has to happen at the top, inside the enigmaof Kremlin politics, which could very well produce a post-Putin regime evenmore hawkish and reckless.

How strong is Putin, and what will come after? We don't know. That's the honest answer.