The first Russian defense minister had a lot to tell, but he never wrote a memoir

It so happened that five or six days ago I noticed on my Facebook: “Why doesn’t P.S. Grachev write memoirs!? After all, they would become an event! Judge for yourself - he was among those who prepared the State Emergency Committee, and he also turned to Yeltsin on August 19 and sabotaged the State Emergency Committee. He shot up the White House in '93. He divided the armed forces of the USSR between the republics. He sent troops to Transnistria, South Ossetia and Abkhazia. Under him, the 201st Division fought in Tajikistan. He extinguished the Ossetian-Ingush conflict. He withdrew troops from Eastern Europe and the Baltic states. He negotiated with the Americans to reduce nuclear weapons. Russian peacekeepers entered Bosnia under him. And, of course, almost the entire First Chechen War! And how many internal political intrigues and scandals are associated with him! And this man is silent!”

Alas, now he will never tell anything again...

The lengthy list of what the deceased was involved in reflects the enormous - and rather unexpected - role of the army in the early 1990s. The military and other “siloviki” were much closer to Boris Yeltsin than the “democrats”. And it’s not just a matter of mental similarity. The collapse of a superpower gave rise to a lot of problems: the fate of gigantic reserves of weapons, including nuclear weapons, interethnic and interstate conflicts, civil wars and coups. The army, which had been pushed to the periphery of politics throughout the Soviet era, was now drawn into it in the most direct way. Tanks on the streets of Moscow in 1991 and 1993 became a clear reflection of this trend.

Pavel Sergeevich Grachev was one of the best Soviet officers - precisely Soviet, with all the consequences ensuing from this definition. Afghanistan, where he fought for over five years, was a catapult for him, throwing him into higher spheres, just like for Rutskoi, Gromov, Lebed. From 1988 to 1992, he made an incredible leap - from division commander to minister of defense. Grachev became the first head of the military department, not only not a WWII veteran, but also born after the war. The replacement of front-line soldier Yazov with Grachev (except for the quickly glimpsed Shaposhnikov) was a symbol of a generational change.

A dizzying career was determined by two factors - the successful Afghan experience, after which progress was rapid, and acquaintance with Yeltsin even before the August putsch. Grachev’s “moment of truth” was the three days of the State Emergency Committee: the head of the KGB, Vladimir Kryuchkov, involved him in advance in preparing for the introduction of a state of emergency, not knowing that psychologically the commander-in-chief of the Airborne Forces had already been “recruited” by Yeltsin. Therefore, Grachev’s position became one of the main reasons for the failure of the Emergency Committee.

Yeltsin needed his own defense minister - young, completely dependent on him, and at the same time a professional military man. Plans for a civilian minister could only exist in the minds of naive democrats. Conversations at that time about Galina Starovoitova as a possible candidate reflected the complete inadequacy of the dreamers to the cruel realities of politics.

Like Yeltsin’s other favorites, such as Soskovets, Grachev was an energetic member of the former elite, ready for change, as they themselves understood it. A mercenary army, the fight against hazing, and civilian control over the military were not among the priorities. At the same time, Pavel Grachev was not completely retrograde. His purely negative image is, rather, a consequence of the short-sightedness of the mainstream media of that time. They did not find the courage to admit that Boris Yeltsin, Yegor Gaidar and their other favorites, in general, did not give a damn about real military reform. Therefore, the Minister of Defense was quite suitable for the role of a scapegoat - outwardly primitive, as if ordered, with clumsy, common speech.

I remember how in May 1998 I had the opportunity to be present at the negotiations of Pavel Grachev - already in the rank of adviser to the general director of Rosvooruzhenie - with the governor of the Tula region, where, by the way, he was from. Having read the newspapers, I expected to see a thoroughly corrupt, narrow-minded martinet. Imagine my surprise that Grachev reasoned in completely “market-oriented” terms and argued that it was unsustainable for the economy to maintain the military-industrial complex at its previous size.

The first Chechen war crippled Grachev. A country whose army was objectively in a state of disarray could not fight, but the minister was confronted with a fact. Generals do not choose wars, and Soviet generals also do not resign if they disagree. Grachev, we repeat, was quite a Soviet officer in spirit. Let us not forget, for the sake of historical justice, that by June 1995 the Chechens were generally defeated and driven into the mountains. But the Kadyrovs’ time has not yet come, and Chernomyrdin, with his “Shamil, speak louder,” largely nullified the military’s efforts.

However, intrigues in Yeltsin’s entourage against Grachev were taking place in addition to the Chechen war. Let us remember Korzhakov’s public humiliating remark: “Pal Sergeich is talented at organizing parades.” From today's perspective, it is rather surprising that Grachev served as minister for so long - four whole years, sitting, figuratively speaking, on a keg of gunpowder.

The rapid rise, sharp fall and subsequent fifteen-year silence are not accidental. They reflect the fate of a person in a transitional era, who is not at all ready for it. Pavel Grachev, entering the Ryazan Airborne School, did not at all see himself as a gravedigger of the Soviet army. Unexpectedly elevated to the highest spheres, he tried as best he could, doing not at all what his soul was for. His personal achievement of 647 parachute jumps was perhaps what he was most proud of. A simple-minded guy from the village of Rva, who rose to prominence through the army, was mercilessly crushed by the political meat grinder of the 1990s. The shock was so strong that it probably hastened the death of this strong paratrooper.

Pavel Grachev - the general who was silent for 15 years