Vladimir Putin is no dewy-eyed liberal, but neither is he the crypto-soviet ogre many of his critics in the West portray him as, argues Daragh McDowell
The reaction in much of the western press to a newly assertive Russian foreign policy has unfortunately been predictable. It is a consequence of the apparent inability of most western journalists to understand the true nature of Vladimir Putin's Russia or the context in which it has developed.
The result has been a new consensus that describes every current problem with Russia, from the ongoing Litvinenko affair to Moscow's recent claims on the North Pole, in terms of a stereotype of the "new Cold War" engineered by Putin. There are repetitive reminders of Putin's career as a young man in the KGB as an indicator of his real intentions. (Curiously, the same commentators tend to forget to mention that George W Bush's father, and former US president, George H W Bush is a former director of the CIA.)
The Russia of today is portrayed as a fearful quasi-Soviet dictatorship where the state is omnipotent and dissent ruthlessly crushed. This is presented in contrast to the free and democratic Russia of Boris Yeltsin's era. All of the problems we are currently experiencing in our relations with Moscow are laid at the door of Putin's authoritarianism and the erosion of glasnost. This is seriously misleading and can result in a dangerously wrong-headed approach to relations with Russia.
First, it is time to put to bed the rose-tinted vision of the Yeltsin years that has taken root in popular opinion. Yeltsin's Russia was neither a democratic nor a liberal one. Freedom of the press was the preserve of those who had powerful protectors. Although Putin was heavily criticised for his muted response to the murder of journalist Anna Politkovskaya, his cynicism was nothing compared with Yeltsin's response to the murder of journalist Dmitry Kholodov.
Kholodov received a suitcase full of military-grade semtex in 1994 during the course of his investigation into corruption in the Russian armed forces. The day after his murder, Yeltsin held a press conference with then minister of defence Pavel Grachev, boasting that he was "one of his favourite ministers".
In the confusion during the Soviet exodus from eastern Europe, Grachev is alleged to have amassed a fortune by selling off Soviet military equipment through the black market, most of it winding up in Africa and the Middle East.
Nor should we forget the dangerous instability that Yeltsin's erratic and incompetent rule bequeathed. Although Russia may have been officially democratic under his administration, Moscow's inability to exercise control over the rest of the country led to the creation of regional dictatorships in places such as Kalmykia and Tatarstan (where president Mintimer Shaymiyev has been in power since the mid-1980s, when he was first party secretary Mintimer Shaymiyev.)
Economic collapse and a breakdown in tax collection led to an incipient warlordism, with regional despots the only source of funds for a decaying and fragmented army. While today the West faces a strong and assertive Russia, the weak Russia of Yeltsin's time was in constant danger of collapsing into the world's largest failed state, an Afghanistan from the Volga to Vladivostok, with a massive nuclear arsenal to boot. A strong Russia may be intimidating today, but the alternative - a weak and fragmented Russia - is a truly terrifying prospect for anyone interested in western security or a peaceful world order.
While none of this is to say that Putin is all smiles and sunshine, he is an immeasurable improvement upon his predecessor, which is why ordinary Russians are deeply suspicious of western pronouncements on the themes of "democracy" and "human rights". In Russia these terms have been intimately linked with the Yeltsin era and thus thoroughly discredited.
Foreign public criticism of Putin's domestic policies is seen by most Russians as meaningless at best, and at worst part of a western plot to undermine their state. Putin has brought stability to their lives and raised their standard of living, as well as restoring their sense of national pride. By beating the democracy drum we get the worst of all worlds - irritating the Kremlin without any hope of exercising influence on Russian public opinion.
Instead we should recognise that Russia and the West have divergent interests in many respects. We cannot expect that Russia will sacrifice its own advantages in order to appease us. It's time to accept there are areas of co-operation and of conflict in relations and act accordingly.
Europe, in particular, should adopt a united stance towards Moscow and compete rather than fruitlessly pursue a "partnership" that has proved unstable and ephemeral. This isn't a new Cold War - it's a return to realism.
If we truly want to change Russia we have to stand up to it, respect its interests where they are legitimate, be sure to look after our own, and not be afraid to recognise that sometimes we can't all just get along.
• Daragh McDowellis a doctoral candidate in international relations at the University of Oxford, specialising in post-Soviet politics