If historians were to agree on a date that confirmed the Russian intention to invade Georgia's South Ossetia and Abkhazia regions, it may well be November 9th, 1989 - the day the Berlin Wall fell. With the crumbling of the East German regime came the dizzying collapse of Soviet communism in states throughout Eastern Europe and Central Asia. High-ranking Russian officials posted in foreign countries were told to stop meddling in the affairs of newly sovereign peoples and go home. One KGB officer - stationed in Dresden, East Germany - realized that his country had been emasculated, its honor dragged through the dirt by the quickly encroaching Western powers. That man was Vladimir Putin, and he would later refer to the implosion of the Soviet Union as "the greatest geopolitical catastrophe of the century." This Russia, powerless to stop the advance of NATO and the creation of volatile republics nearby, was not the country he had signed up to serve in his youth.

Vladmir Putin's longing for a return to national prowess has dominated Russian politics for the past eight years. Russia's economic boom and revived military capability have emboldened Putin and his political heirs to pursue foreign policy goals with a level of decisiveness unseen since the halcyon days of Nikita Khrushchev. The recent war in Georgia is a case-in-point of Russian strategic aims. While other countries were busy watching the Olympics, Russia was maneuvering for position with Georgia, searching for a way to convey the message that its dreams of joining NATO were unacceptable. When Georgian President Mikhail Saakashvilli responded to rebel agitation in the Russian-backed separatist region of South Ossetia by sending in troops of his own, the Russians countered quickly, annexing South Ossetia as well as the situationally-similar Abkhazia. The Western peace envoys and aid packages did little to change the geopolitical realities of the situation as Russia moved to recognize the two breakaway regions as independent countries. Russia watched contentedly as the US proved unwilling to honor its security commitments to an ally, a development that has thrown the entire Western regime of security assurances into question and has restored Russia's preeminence in its near-abroad.

Indeed, Georgia is not worth fighting for, because this is not a "new Cold War" as some Western commentators have been quick to declare. The Russian muscle-flexing on display in Georgia ought not to be taken as a justification for further confrontation. Rather, the West has to understand the goals of the Russian power elite in order to interpret their moves accurately. Putin, recently succeeded as President by Dmitri Medvedev, is merely the tip of the iceberg in the struggle for Russia's political soul. Those Russians who, like Putin, were or are part of the security services - both covert (KGB, FSB, military intelligence) and overt (law enforcement) - have gained increasing influence in the Kremlin in recent years. They are called the siloviki, or "enforcement personnel," and according to a 2007 CATO Institute study, they constitute 77 percent of Russia's top bureaucracy. They rose to power not through conspiracy, but necessity: upon the disintegration of the Soviet Union, former KGB personnel were virtually the only people with organizational expertise and knowledge of foreign countries. Corporations and governmental offices naturally wanted to hire them.

These siloviki have been influential players in Russia's global game of foreign influence. They feel strongly that Russia needs to restore her greatness and respect on the world stage, primarily through increased military spending and, when possible, integration of former Soviet states into the Russian sphere of influence. This was clearly on display in the recent conflict with Georgia, and it is a popular sentiment even among those who are otherwise critical of Putin. Just so, Alexander Lebedev, an ex-KGB Putin opponent who owns a 49 percent stake (along with Mikhail Gorbachev) in the liberal newspaper Novaya Gazeta, endorsed the Kremlin's invasion of Georgia. The Georgian question seems to be one most Russians can agree on, and in that common narrative, the West is at fault. The United States must also recognize that the siloviki will probably pay any price to defend their actions in Georgia.

Yet the West is itself wedded to a doctrinaire approach that overestimates the siloviki's consolidation of power. The U.S. and other Western nations need to scrutinize developments in Russia's political structures instead of oversimplifying them. Foreign observers who look closely at the conflicts between Russian industry and the state would see that the siloviki are not as powerful as the West claims them to be. A main economic goal of the siloviki has been to bring down the oligarchs of Russian business and create a more state-controlled economy in Russia, but the fallout from the breakup of Yukos Oil Company, when the Putin government imprisoned its leader, Mikhail Khodorkovsky, illustrates just how inconclusive this plan has been. Khodorkovsky had been a fierce critic of the siloviki and had lent financial support to Russian opposition parties. It was later revealed by Olga Kryshtanovskaya, a researcher for the Academy of Sciences, that the siloviki around Putin were greatly alarmed by Khodorkovsky's political affiliations. Yet Putin reacted to the affair by putting Medvedev, who publicly doubted the legality of Khodorkovsky's arrest, on a fast-track to political advancement. That Medvedev is now at the top of Russian politics is a potential indication that Putin does not want the siloviki to wield too much power in the country.

The siloviki's assault on democracy and dissent is perhaps its most alarming offense. Journalist Anna Politkovskaya's 2006 assassination was considered by the Western press to be a political move by Putin. The spy Alexander Litvinenko was poisoned and died three weeks later in London (he blamed Putin for the poisoning). Oleg Gordievsky, a former KGB station chief who defected and became a British citizen, was poisoned in 2007 for decrying Russia's return to KGB-style assassinations of dissidents. Undoubtedly, these events are more than mere coincidence. But Western responses of diplomatic isolation and hostility only exacerbate the situation. As Ian Bremmer and Samuel Charap have noted in an article for the Washington Quarterly, "Rhetorical attacks on Putin and his policies, regardless of whether they are justified, strengthen the siloviki clan's position."

Because the siloviki are so entrenched in Russian politics, any sharp Western criticism of them will likely backfire, reaffirming their view of the West as dangerous and aggressive. True change can only come from the inside of Russian politics in the Kremlin. Luckily, Russian democracy may not be in as dire straits as some Western critics make it out to be. Novaya Gazeta still operates as an independent newspaper, and Lebedev and Gorbachev are looking to form a genuine liberal opposition party to run in the 2011 parliamentary elections. As for the West, it ought to recognize that many Russians simply want respect. Only then will it stop providing the hardliners with ammo and allow Russian moderates to see the siloviki's claims of Western "encirclement" as baseless and naÃOve.

WHO IS MEDVEDEV?

Dmitry Medvedev, who became Russia's new president in June, receives less media attention than Prime Minister Putin, partially because Putin has dominated Russian politics for so long. Medvedev's deference to Putin was shown when he suggested in 2007 that Putin ought to become Prime Minister, a move many interpreted as his acceptance of the role of a figurehead president. Additionally, while Putin is constitutionally barred from seeking a third consecutive presidential term, nothing prevents him from regaining the title after Medvedev's own term is finished. Having never run for political office before becoming President, Medvedev has been known primarily for his efficient implementation of Putin's policies; not his own.

But he is not a Putin clone. Medvedev is more liberal than his predecessor (his election could signal Putin's desire to halt the advancing power of the siloviki). The former head of gas giant Gazprom, Medvedev has distinguished himself by voicing his dissatisfaction with the heavy-handed methods of dealing with the oligarchs and the Putin-era practice of having government officials sit on the boards of major companies. At one point in charge of national projects under Putin, Medvedev quietly sought improvements to Russia's health, education, and agriculture programs.

More recently, he offered a decidedly pragmatic view of NATO-Russian relations (in stark contrast to the hardline stance of the siloviki), telling Spain's Prime Minister Jose Luis Rodriguez Zapatero that, "We (Russia and NATO members) do not have such ideological differences around which a new cold or any other kind of war could start." So while he remains a Putin loyalist, Medvedev clearly rejects the more hawkish, state-centric goals of his predecessor. Medvedev's closeness with Putin, then, might give him the legitimacy to push through some much-needed incremental reforms.