For a fleeting moment, Russia looked, sounded and felt like a liberal democracy. But is it? It is resoundingly not, at least in the usual understanding of these words. The paradox of Russia today is that the richer it gets, the less democratic it becomes and the more the cause of human rights recedes - a movement that was strong when the Soviet Union imploded 16 years ago. If the transition of Poland from communist satellite to independent state drew Warsaw centripetally towards Europe's bosom, the rise of post-communist Russia has had a centrifugal effect on Moscow's strained ties with Europe. If it flirts with an economic union with Belarus, it is accused of empire-building. If it charges its neighbours the full cost of its energy, it is accused of throwing its weight around. Whatever it does, Russia stands at odds with Europe's values and interests.
If direct rule from the Kremlin is seen as autocratic outside Russia's borders, it is overwhelmingly popular inside them. When asked to rate the institutions they trust, Russians have least faith in police and prosecutors, followed by parliamentary deputies and government ministers. But Mr Putin, who appoints the ministers, is absolved of blame. He stands alone in the people's pantheon as the politician who initiates, manages and gets things done. So the fact that the salary of a district doctor has tripled, or that the mother of a second-born child will receive the equivalent of $10,000 from the state to invest in housing or education, currently counts for more than the killing of journalists or the rigging of elections, even though everyone suffers from corrupt policemen and the absence of real political parties.
That Russia is moving towards - or trying to catch up with - European democracy can no longer be assumed. If the west wants to change Russia's behaviour, it has to understand that.