Dmitry Peskov, official spokesman for the Russian president, likes a joke. Visitors to his Kremlin office last week noticed that the screensaver on his computer is a series of revolving quotes from George Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four: “Big Brother is watching you”, “war is peace”, “freedom is slavery”, “ignorance is strength”.

Since Mr Peskov works from the same building from which Stalin operated – and now speaks for Vladimir Putin, who is often accused of establishing a new Russian autocracy – this is all rather daring. Or tasteless. Possibly both.

Mr Peskov speaks with the relaxed good humour – and even the accent – of an American spin-doctor. But listening to some of what he had to say, I experienced a strong sense of déjà vu – and it was not the US that was brought to mind. It was China.

During the cold war, it was natural to lump Russia and China together. Now the two countries are once again occupying similar ideological terrain. They no longer espouse communism. But both Russia and China have nonetheless separately arrived at very similar political doctrines. At home, the formula is authoritarianism, combined with rapid economic growth and nationalism. Internationally, both see their rising economic power as the basis for righting past humiliations. They preach a doctrine of absolute respect for national sovereignty.

America’s setbacks in Iraq have given the Russians and the Chinese new confidence in the battle of ideas. But the real foundation of their new assertiveness is economic. China is a manufacturing powerhouse. Russia’s boom has a more fragile base: the rising price of oil and gas. But both countries are flush with cash.

The fact that they are doing well – without embracing liberal democracy – leads to an increasingly confident rejection of western political models. In both Russia and China, the official emphasis is on stability. Rapid political liberalisation is dismissed as a trap that could create social chaos.

When the cold war ended, many in the west assumed that the ideological argument was also over. History had ended. Russia and China had embraced capitalism. That, in turn, would create a middle class that would demand political freedom.

Almost 20 years later, things do not seem to be working out like that. An affluent bourgeoisie is certainly very visible in the big cities of both countries. But, at the moment, the Russian and Chinese middle classes seem much more interested in flat-screen television sets and foreign cars than in a free press or new political movements. There is still considerably more freedom of speech in Russia than in China. But the situation is getting worse – and only a few intellectuals seem to care.

The reasons for this political passivity once again seem similar. Chinese and Russian history give the newly affluent good reason to fear “chaos”. Those fears are reinforced by official propaganda.

Talk to independent analysts in Moscow, and their anxieties are also strongly reminiscent of the kind of thing you hear in Beijing. In both countries, the political system is blamed for breeding corruption and ignoring environmental problems. Both countries are also currently facing a classical problem for authoritarian governments: how do you manage a change of leadership without provoking dangerous infighting at the top?

The Russian and Chinese elites’ response to these political uncertainties is also similar. Increasingly, their domestic legitimacy relies on a renewed sense of national pride. Their governments push out a popular message that economic strength means they can no longer be shoved around by the west. Both countries tell a receptive public that national weakness is a thing of the past. China’s insistence that it will fight to prevent Taiwanese independence is popular. The Russian public seems to love it when Mr Putin is rude to the American president.

But nationalism has to be handled with care. In China, the authorities eventually reined in the anti-Japanese demonstrations of 2005. In Russia, the government has sponsored nationalist youth organisations. They are a useful source of political muscle. But it is also important to ensure that a resurgent Russian nationalism supports the system, rather than undermining it.

Russian and Chinese nationalism – backed by economic strength – poses obvious foreign policy dilemmas for the west. The issues involved are both practical and philosophical.

On the practical level, western countries have to decide how hard a line to take when China threatens Taiwan, or Russia squeezes Georgia. How much of a fuss should we make about human rights? What should we do when Russian and Chinese “sovereign wealth funds” try to buy western companies? How do we cope with the fact that Russia and China frequently block western efforts at the United Nations Security Council – over Burma, Kosovo and Iran for example? Behind these day-to-day issues are some bigger philosophical questions. Was it wrong to suppose that globalisation and economic growth would eventually mean that Russia and China would become liberal democracies? If that was too glib, are the new China and Russia threatening to western interests?

It is too soon to answer these questions definitively. China and Russia once again pose an ideological challenge to the west. But authoritarian nationalism, backed by massive foreign reserves, may turn out to be simply a phase on the long march to liberal democracy. Or it may turn out to be something more durable – and Orwellian.

October 23, 2007 9:05am in Russia | Comment