The Russian omertà
In the world of organised crime, a “boss” must show his readiness to deal with any threat to his power. As a member of a Kazan gangster group whom I interviewed in the mid-2000s put it, “the leader must be a tough and self-confident person who loves power and is ready to fight for it by any means”. Any sign of weakness can lead to overthrow of the boss and ultimately his death.
But while such violent methods of reprisal are accepted as the norm in the criminal world, their adoption by the state is another matter entirely. They raise the degree of general tension and instability in a country which is already living in extraordinary conditions.
Putin could have easily used the state machinery and punished Prigozhin’s armed rebellion using the law. Though the judicial system operates in “slow time”, as opposed to the “fast time” of mafia justice, the use of the totally obedient court system would have given the revenge a semblance of legitimacy. The mafia is forced to act through direct physical violence and reprisals because, unlike the state, it has no legal instruments of coercion.
But instead of using the judicial system, Putin first seemingly forgave Prigozhin, returning his seized assets and allowing some of his Wagner troops to settle in Belarus. Meanwhile Prigozhin himself continued to conduct his business in Russia and Africa, making public appearances in Moscow and St. Petersburg (including at the Russia-Africa forum). It seemed he was indestructible.
It was only two months later that the demonstrative reprisal followed. It turned out that Prigozhin’s wartime achievements, his value for potential operations on the Belarusian-Polish and Belarusian-Ukrainian borders, and his military and commercial activities in Africa, which observers — and apparently Prigozhin himself — believed made him an important part of Putin’s system, were all of little consequence to a wounded dictator.