The idea that Putin wants to wield supreme power from behind the throne is questionable

It is hard to imagine what more Russia’s president could have done to confirm that he was leaving office – yes, really leaving office – when his current term expires in 2024 than what he said in his state-of-the-nation address this week. Yet the instant consensus of western Kremlin-watchers, Russian opposition figures and jaded members of Russia’s chattering classes was that what he had actually meant was that he intended to go on and on.

“We have a new Brezhnev,” was one comment – an allusion to the decrepit Soviet leader whose death in office in 1982 offered an early symbol of the doomed USSR. Russia’s “new system – and a new Putin”, said another, should be in place by 2021, while a BBC correspondent spoke of a “jigsaw” that, “when complete, will show Putin still in power”. Far from preparing for a transition, they agreed, Vladimir Putin was actually devising an elaborate scheme to stay on.

How the drama that then unfolded fits into this scenario – the resignation of the Russian government en masse, the sideways move of the long-serving prime minister, Dmitry Medvedev, to become deputy chairman of the Security Council (a body modelled on its US counterpart) – and the appointment of the head of the tax service, Mikhail Mishustin, as interim prime minister – was not at once obvious. But a favoured explanation was that Medvedev had been upset by the constitutional changes broached by Putin earlier in the day and tendered his and his government’s resignation in response.

Another suggestion was that the government’s departure had been cooked up by the pair of them in advance, though to what end was equally unclear.

So what did Putin say, and what did it mean? And why do we have what looks like a precipitate change of Russian government now?

First, some context. Ever since Putin won another second six-year stint in 2018, speculation has been growing about whether this would really be his last term, who would be in the frame to succeed him and how any transition might play out. There has even been criticism – already – that there seemed to be no transitional arrangements in train and no obvious successor being groomed. If this is the atmosphere now, four years before the next presidential election, it can only become more febrile and destabilising as the campaign proper nears.

Putin’s first point was that there would be no change in the presidential limit of two consecutive terms. That means only one thing: Putin will not be Russian president after 2024. Full stop. There will be some tightening up. Future presidents will have two terms in total, they will not be able to set the clock again, as Putin did, by swapping jobs for a term with his prime minister.

Presidential candidates will not only have to be Russian nationals, but they must have no other citizenship and no right to permanent residency elsewhere. This could be seen as a pre-emptive move against the exiled oligarch and opposition figure Mikhail Khodorkovsky. Some have suggested it could also exclude the anti-corruption campaigner Alexei Navalny, who spent some time studying in the United States, but this is less clear.

A second point could bring real change in the power balance between the legislature and the executive. The proposal is that, while the prime minister will still be nominated by the president, parliament will have to confirm the prime minister and his cabinet and in most cases only parliament (not the president) will have the power to veto or sack ministers. The idea is to shift some power from the president to parliament.

A third change would be to enshrine a body called the State Council – some say this is better translated as Privy Council – in the constitution. This is an advisory body set up by Putin when he became president, but it does not feature in the constitution, which dates from 1993.

Taken together, these changes have been widely seen as giving Putin the constitutional means to carry on past the expiry of his presidency in 2024. He could become prime minister again – with more public clout and less formal accountability to the president than the last time he had the job (2008-2012). He could leave the presidency, while retaining his position as chairman of the Security Council. Or he could leave both and head a beefed-up and formalised State/Privy Council.

The last two options have precedents in China, where Deng Xiaoping retired in several stages, and in Kazakhstan, where Nursultan Nazarbayev resigned from the presidency last year, while remaining chairman of the country’s Security Council.

All these possibilities give succour to those who believe that Putin will never depart voluntarily and is looking for plausible ways to leave the presidency while holding on to power. He cheated the constitution once, it might be argued, by observing the two-term limit in 2008, only to return in 2012 after resetting the clock. As to why, other than a love of power, Putin might want to stay, a common assumption is his supposed fear of prosecution (for corruption or abuse of power), were he to lose the immunity conferred by high office.

Well, maybe the theory of a power-hungry and fearful Putin determined to cling on to power is correct. But it is not the only explanation that would be compatible with Putin’s proposed amendments to the constitution. As so often with Russia, there are grounds that would also support the very opposite.

The notion that Putin needs to stay in power to ward off prosecution owes much to the supposed precedent of Boris Yeltsin, who left office only after striking a deal for his own and his family’s immunity from prosecution – a deal reportedly struck thanks to Putin’s KGB ties. But evidence for Putin’s supposedly fabulous, ill-gotten gains is flimsy to say the least.

The idea that Putin could wield supreme power from behind the throne can also be contested. Deng Xiaoping became an honoured elder statesman, but how much power did he actually wield after stepping back? Similarly Nazarbayev, whose power seems to fade by the day. It is not unreasonable to argue that former leaders can have a role to play – think the House of Lords – and that the State/Privy Council might provide a suitable perch for Putin. Without the day-to-day levers of power at their fingertips, however, their authority will never be what it was.

As for the summary replacement of the prime minister and his government, one simple argument could be that Putin wanted someone who has proved his hands-on financial competence (which Mishustin has) to tackle specific weaknesses in the economy. Might Putin want to use his last four years in the Kremlin to good effect, so smoothing the path for a successor?

It could also be argued that Medvedev will be in a stronger position to contest the presidency if he is not in the hot seat of prime minister. Having an experienced deputy in place at the Security Council could also make it easier for Putin to leave office early.

In short, it seems to me that there is at least as much evidence for Putin starting to prepare for a new stage in Russia’s political life as there is for the belief that he will never leave. The constitutional amendments that, some assume, will offer him a second life, could equally pave the way for a successor – even a genuinely elected successor – who would also inherit a more mature parliamentary system than the almost tsar-like set-up of today. Alas, we will probably have to wait four more years before we find out which, if either, interpretation of Putin’s intentions was right.