Monday, Dec. 27, 1999

Hard Lessons

By PAUL QUINN-JUDGE/MOSCOW

Russia's generals have learned some hard lessons. After the blood-soaked debacle of the last attempt to subdue Chechnya during 1994-1996, war gamers went back to the doctrine of the ferocious Russian who first conquered the Caucasus, 19th century general Alexei Yermolov: use siege warfare rather than frontal assault. Make slow advances under cover of heavy guns and bombardment. Avoid close encounters with a lightly armed but fearsome enemy. Applying these principles in their current campaign, which began in late September, Moscow's generals aimed to grind down the rebel force until the remnants would flee back into the mountains and then keep them there, where they would gradually wither under the onslaught of winter and warplanes. It seemed to be working.

At least that was how it seemed until last week, when someone forgot the new war plan. On Wednesday evening a Russian armored column rolled deep into downtown Grozny, the besieged and ruined Chechen capital, only to be ambushed by 2,000 rebels. Caught in the open as they advanced into Minutka Square, seven tanks and eight personnel carriers ran into a devastating barrage of rifle fire and rocket-propelled grenades that slaughtered the soldiers as their vehicles exploded in flames. Three hours later, more than 100 Russian corpses lay amid the wreckage, according to on-the-spot wire services. It was an awful replay of the head-on tactics that had cost Moscow so many casualties--and public support for the war--in a similar assault on Grozny five years ago.

Just that afternoon in Moscow, Russia's generals had boldly predicted imminent victory. The secret of their success, they said, was the change in tactics. Grozny would be taken "in a matter of days," declared General Valeri Manilov of the General Staff, and all of Chechnya would fall to Russia in a month or two. A day later, the military denied that any foray into Grozny had even taken place. Prime Minister Vladimir Putin, chief sponsor and political beneficiary of the war, dismissed reports of heavy casualties as "complete nonsense."

The Minutka Square battle was the first real setback for Russia's military since it launched its "counter-terror operation," as Moscow insists on calling the war against Chechen independence. Russian generals are once again figures of respect, not the butt of jokes. The three ground commanders, Colonel General Viktor Kazantsev, Lieut. General Gennadi Troshev and Major General Vladimir Shamanov, were recently named heroes of the Russian Federation. The country's self-confidence has flourished along with its armed forces. And Putin's supporters happily predict that a victory will propel him to the presidency next July.

It is not clear whether Wednesday's fiasco was the start of a major assault, a reconnaissance probe of Chechen defenses or just a stupid mistake. Up to now, Russian forces have marched across the republic with, they claim, little resistance. Their battle plan called for slow, steady advances until the rebels engaged them. Then they would let their vastly superior artillery and air forces bomb the Chechen fighters and strafe their village hideouts, until they fell back and Russian troops could move safely forward again. Since late September, a Russian force that now numbers 100,000--just about every viable fighting man in the armed forces--has managed to retake control of nearly 60% of Chechnya. For more than a month, it has laid siege to Grozny, pounding the capital with artillery and aerial strikes while ground troops slowly tighten the noose.

The toll on civilians has been devastating, but Moscow seems not to care. One of Yermolov's tactics was to destroy any village whose inhabitants resisted, as an example. General Troshev, commanding the eastern sector, takes the same approach. No one knows how many civilians have died, especially in Grozny where the blunt force of artillery, aircraft and missile batteries has been indiscriminate.

But the strategy works much less well against rebel fighters. They too have altered tactics. This time, as soon as the Russians open up with artillery, the rebels retreat to safe new lines of defense. Moscow claims to have killed 7,000 fighters, leaving 12,000 to 15,000 in the field. Western intelligence puts Chechen strength at 20,000 and suspects that a revenge-seeking relative steps in to replace every rebel killed.

In fact, the only casualties that really worry Moscow are Russian. Media support is crucial to the generals, who believe, like their American counterparts in Vietnam, that they lost the last war because of bad press. This time they are taking no chances. In an operation that is half Soviet-style press censorship and half Desert Storm-style media management, the Russian command is totally controlling coverage. TV networks are not allowed to photograph Russian casualties and never show combat. When things go wrong, as they apparently did last week in Grozny, the official response to foreign reports is apoplectic. Accounts of the incident were, said General Alexander Zdanovich, spokesman for the internal security service, "active measures" concocted by Western intelligence services to discredit Russia.

The generals rightly fear body bags. Heavy troop losses drove them from Chechnya last time and could provoke a drop in support for this war any time. As of last week, the Russians admitted to 400 dead soldiers. But U.S. intelligence, which has been tracking the numbers closely, believes the death toll had already neared 1,000 before the slaughter last week.

So far, though, Moscow is winning the home-propaganda battle. Opinion surveys show that around 60% of Russians support the war as a necessity to quell Chechen militants. The generals are sure their Prime Minister will back them to the end. But while "there is political and military consensus on how to do this right," says Sherman Garnett of Michigan State University, an expert on the Russian military, "whether it works or not is another matter."

The Chechens will try to kill as many Russians as possible in Grozny, then retire into the hills to wage guerrilla warfare with hit-and-run strikes into occupied towns and cities. The Russians say they are strangling the rebels in a ring of steel, but squeezing Jell-O is a better analogy. As Russian troops advance, Chechen guerrillas slip through the lines to harass them, even in the northern plains that Moscow claims are completely Russian controlled.

This is the fifth military campaign mounted against the rebellious republic in this century. The Chechen problem is never solved; it merely goes into remission. Most revolts have been suppressed by a combination of massive force on one side and a breakdown of leadership on the other. Chechnya's elected President, Aslan Maskhadov, continues to call for a political settlement--and so do Washington and the Europeans. But Putin and his generals seem adamant.

At the moment, Moscow scents a breakthrough in Chechnya. In all probability, however, the Russians are only locked in a futile, bloody cycle of occupation and resistance. And they will remain so until they realize that there is something terribly wrong in their relationship with a people that must be crushed into submission about once every generation.

--With reporting by Douglas Waller/Washington

With reporting by DOUGLAS WALLER/WASHINGTON