When It Comes to Political Islam, Moscow Seems Confused

It would be hard to find an event that better characterizes Russia's convoluted Middle East diplomacy and uncertain attitude to political Islam than the visit last month to Moscow by a Hamas delegation.

To the incredulous questioning of the Israelis and the Americans - how would Moscow have reacted if Chechen terrorist commanders like Shamil Basaev were given a similar welcome in Washington or Jerusalem? - Moscow produced a somewhat feeble reply that Hamas had not committed any terrorist acts on Russian soil and hence it was not considered a terrorist organization by Moscow.

At the same time, Russia continues to lambaste any contacts, however innocuous, by the Europeans and the Americans with representatives of the Chechen separatist movement. According to the Russians, Chechen fighters form part of "an international terrorist network."

There are several reasons Moscow's attitude to radical Islam is so contradictory. On the one hand, Russian foreign policy is driven by a very strong (and growing) complex of the former superpower that wants back in the limelight. Hence the general anti-Western tenor of Russian foreign policy discourse in recent years, words not necessarily followed by action.

However, with the public mood in Russia increasingly isolationist and suspicious of outside influences, the Kremlin is keen to show the public that Russia is not kowtowing to the United States and Europe. This frequently produces a policy that is based on countering American (and increasingly European) attitudes just because they are American or European.

This was most visible in the case of Hamas' invitation to Moscow and the excruciatingly slow progress toward a common position vis-a-vis Iran - an Islamist state with radical ambitions that Russian officials tend to gloss over. Russia has repeatedly refused to recognize links between Tehran and the Lebanese Hizbullah as "sponsorship of terrorism" for fear of offending the Iranians. Moreover, until recently Russian officials admitted in private that they saw no danger coming from Shiite Iran as the majority of Russian Muslims are Sunnis.

This attitude panders to influential strata in Russian public opinion (the so-called Eurasians) that deny the European character of Russian civilization and see Islam as an ally in the fight against a perfidious West. This attitude creates strange bedfellows, incorporating ex-KGB friends of Russian President Vladimir Putin as well as Russian monarchists.

On the other hand, domestic concerns complicate the picture even more. Since the breakup of the Soviet Union, a stream of foreign preachers, literature and funds has been flowing into Russia and gradually changing the face of Russian Islam. Muslims have been living side by side with Russians since at least the mid-16th century, when Ivan IV crushed the Tartar khanates in the Volga region and Siberia. Russians still proudly point out that "their" Muslims have remained generally peaceful and loyal to the Russian state, as opposed to those in France or the United Kingdom.

However, the North Caucasus in general and Chechnya, Ingushetia and Dagestan in particular have already become a breeding ground for Islamic radicalism, fueled by poverty, corruption, a dysfunctional economy and lack of coherent policies by Moscow. Like their counterparts in Europe and America, increasing numbers of young Russian Muslims have started to identify with their co-religionists in Chechnya, Afghanistan and Iraq. It is a slow process but it exists, and it pushes Muslim leaders in Russia to adopt higher political profiles. One mufti recently demanded that a post of vice-president be created in Russia and allocated to a Muslim, a demand that stunned the political class in Moscow.

Meanwhile, growing numbers of Russian nationalists, as well as the wider swathes of the general public, although no friends of the West, have started viewing Islam as the biggest potential threat to Russian identity. Increasing immigration from former Soviet republics with Muslim majorities (like Azerbaijan and Tajikistan) is contributing to Russian hostility toward Islam and Muslims.

The Russian state seems to be confused about what to do. It prefers to pander to Muslim sentiments in foreign policy, showing support for Palestinians and Iran and striking up a relationship with the Organization of the Islamic Conference. At home official propaganda lumps Islam, Orthodox Christianity, Buddhism and Judaism together as "traditional religions of Russia" and accentuates their contribution to Russia's "distinct civilization" - a thinly veiled anti-Western concept.

However, the Kremlin finds it more and more difficult to deal with the growth of radical Islam at home and also wants the West to look the other way in Chechnya, which is Moscow's official battleground against "international terrorism." This ambiguity will continue for as long as Russia's political class remains undecided as to which way it wants to take Russia. The question of Islam has become inseparable from the painful search for Russia's new identity.