The Russian elite is both fearful and hopeful about the major personnel changes expected to follow March’s presidential election. The new configuration of power could cement the successes of the ambitious and largely effective bureaucrats in their sixties. But it’s also possible that President Vladimir Putin could replace these aging professionals with younger bureaucrats in their forties.
No matter which cohort the president chooses, any large-scale personnel shift will create a “lost generation” of the elite that lacks real prospects within the power vertical. This latent battle of generations poses a threat to the system, yet was hardwired by Putin himself.
There are three distinct generations within the ruling Russian elite. First, there is a group of people around seventy years of age: these are primarily members of Putin’s inner circle who control key resources, hold high-status positions, and head the security services. Many of them hail from St. Petersburg and have longtime connections with Putin from his time working in the city’s government back in the 1990s or from serving with him in the security forces.
The Kovalchuk and Rotenberg brothers, Security Council secretary Nikolai Patrushev, FSB director Alexander Bortnikov, and Defense Minister Sergei Shoigu all belong to this first category. They could be compared to major shareholders or board members of large corporations. They understand that soon their time will be up, but would like to hold on to their positions for as long as possible and then pass them down to their heirs.
The second generational cohort comprises ambitious and often professional bureaucrats in their sixties. Many have reached their career ceiling and would like to break through it. To continue the corporate analogy, they are akin to the top managers hired by the shareholders. During their many years on the job, they have learned the ins and outs of the company, have gotten to know the board members, and have even acquired some assets.
This group includes Prime Minister Mikhail Mishustin, Moscow Mayor Sergei Sobyanin, First Deputy Chief of Staff Sergei Kiriyenko, and Deputy Prime Minister Yury Trutnev, among many others.
The main objective of this generation is to not only retain their high positions but also to secure adequate rewards for their achievements: to get more posts to divvy up or even join the board. One lucky “top manager” might even become the chair of the board—i.e., a consensus candidate for the role of successor.
The third and final generation is made up of politicians and officials in their forties, including some “princes” with benefactors in the oldest group and ambitious bureaucrats who currently hold secondary or tertiary roles, but are already making names for themselves and want to get further ahead. In corporate speak, they are the heirs of board members and the go-getters who have spent their entire careers at the corporation, are loyal to it, and don’t know any other rules of the game.
This generation includes Agriculture Minister Dmitry Patrushev (son of the Security Council head), the United Russia party’s secretary general Andrei Turchak, and Putin’s economic advisor Maxim Oreshkin, as well as several regional governors.
The conflict over the clashing interests of these generations is becoming increasingly acute. The principle reason is Putin’s ultraconservative personnel and resource allocation policies of recent years. Financial flows, subsoil resources, key state corporations, and law enforcement structures are all controlled by members of his inner circle, the oldest cohort. Meanwhile, most members of the second and third generations have been stuck in place for more than a decade—even those who were promised higher positions and more authority.
In 2020, Putin changed up his cabinet of ministers, but the changes were limited and only highlighted the stagnation at other levels of government. Now the 2024 presidential election has launched the reformatting of the power vertical. We may see changes not only in the government, but also within the presidential administration, at state corporations, at law enforcement structures, in the Federation Council (the upper chamber of the Russian parliament), and in the regions. All of this exacerbates the generational conflict: above all, between the second and third generations. A battle lies ahead, and its losers will become a lost generation.
Ambitious bureaucrats in their sixties who currently expect promotions run the risk of obsolescence. Sobyanin, Kiriyenko, Mishustin, and Trutnev have all featured on lists of Putin’s potential successors. To stay in the running, they must keep their current positions or move to ones that are at least as important.
However, any career progress (or even lack of demotion) for those in their sixties will disappoint those in their forties, because by the time new career opportunities open up, they might go to those currently in their thirties. Sure, those in their forties can continue to wait for the older cohort to age out or fall out of favor, but as time goes on, they too could go down in Putin’s esteem.
In theory, intra-elite competition benefits any political system by forcing its members to be as efficient as possible. Younger players gradually replace older figures, while motivated and professional middle-aged bureaucrats endeavor to keep their positions.
However, in order to be beneficial, competition must be lasting, natural, and follow clear rules, which is not the case in Putin’s nontransparent and nepotistic Russia, where competitive processes could spin out of control when one generation loses or starts to fear that it is losing.
Putin is more likely to promote those in their forties in order to rejuvenate the bureaucracy. After all, those in their sixties have been in power for too long and can envisage life without him.
The problem is that Russia doesn’t have enough young administrators ready to replace those in their sixties. The younger generation mostly worked in favorable conditions, climbing the career ladder thanks to their own loyalty and the patronage of the older group, while Sobyanin, Kiriyenko, Mishustin, Trutnev, and their like came up in the cutthroat days of the 1990s, emerged victorious, and retained the energy that the system needs so much.
Yet keeping the more experienced bureaucrats at the top will also damage the power vertical. The forty-year-olds will be disillusioned, less motivated, and less efficient: they will see no point in outdoing themselves to show the powers that be how useful they are.
There is no easy solution for the Kremlin. The battle of the generations, which could jeopardize the stability of the system and prompt a split in the elite, was made inevitable by Putin himself through his ultraconservative personnel policy of the past decade, and by his refusal to leave his position—putting his own interests above those of his regime.
