Russia is in crisis. Barely ten years after the brave new world declared from a tank turret by Boris Yeltsin and the 'Russian Bear' of old is ailing. Its population is in decline, spurred by falling birth rates, emigration and poor health. Its economy is shrinking, incomes are plummeting, corruption is endemic. Behind the democratic façade, there has been barely a whiff of genuine liberal change. Civil liberties are honoured only in the breach. Civil society has barely survived its infancy. The communist ideocracy of the Soviet era has been replaced by a kleptocracy of robber capitalists. Democratisation and marketisation have failed. Where "once it was impossible to escape Lenin, now Coca-Cola is omnipresent". It is little wonder that the Russians so despise their national humiliation.

If one rewinds a little, even to the last stagnant years of communism, it was all so different. The average Soviet citizen knew exactly where he or she stood. One could certainly not get rich, but one had to try very hard to fall through the social security net. After a fashion, the state took care of everything. It pretended to pay the workers, who in turn pretended to work. National pride was excited by the space programme, the victory in the Great Patriotic War and the USSR's status as a superpower. If one downsized one's ambitions, kept out of opposition politics and accepted one's lot, the world made pretty good sense.

The Soviet Union itself, was in one sense, a huge socio-political experiment - which failed. But the experiment referred to by Service is the attempt to erase the USSR from the collective memory, to create a new generation of Russians: self-confident, democratic and free from nostalgia for communism. It has not proved an easy task.

There is, of course, a precedent. The countries of Eastern Europe jettisoned communism in 1989 two years before the USSR, and they have been generally successful in re-establishing political legitimacy and constructing civil, democratic societies. But, crucially, they were able to hark back to an independent past. Their former national symbols, their anthems, their street-names, even their borders, possessed an intangible legitimising power, which could bolster the newly democratic regimes. Communism, after all, had been imposed on them from without - by the Soviets.
The Russians had no such luck. It was difficult for them to dissociate themselves from the communist experiment as it had been their idea, and as many would still argue, their finest hour. Moreover, the selection of pre-communist symbols has proved problematical. The last Tsar, a man vilified for 70 years, is still a profoundly divisive figure. His Imperial regime, though broadly and nominally 'Russian', had encompassed a plethora of nationalities and inhabited vastly different borders from the Russia of 1991. In short, those trying to stress the continuities of 'Russian history' after 1991, were most often faced with its glaring discontinuities. Yeltsin's Russians barely knew who they were or where they came from.

Service presents more of a tour d'horizont of modern Russia than a specific investigation into the 'experiment' mentioned in the title, but his book still makes interesting reading. He examines the destabilising influence of the 'dirty war' against the Chechens, the rise of Russia's nouveau riche, the emergence of the 'Mafia' and the widening chasm between rich and poor. He cites the obstacles presented by the widespread popular apathy for politics and the mistrust and cynicism now so prevalent in Russian society.

Regarding the reform programme, Service summarises his own position as one of "cautious pessimism". He concludes that the achievements of reform should not be ridiculed or dismissed, stressing the positive message that the reform programme has, at least, made a return to the old days seem unthinkable. But, nonetheless, he characterises the last decade as a "wasted opportunity", when reforming energies and enthusiasm were dissipated, whilst conservatism and inertia were allowed to prevail.

Despite this, Service is surprisingly positive about Boris Yeltsin. In stark contrast to the popular western perception of the former Russian president as a bumbling drunk, Service is much more flattering. Yeltsin, he argues, was one of the few who could have engineered the revolution of 1991. He was a good public speaker, with energy and drive, and a political subtlety that most of his rivals lacked. And crucially, in a democratic age, he also had a genuine common touch. Putin, by comparison, may be more cerebral, but is hardly more colourful.

There are any number of volumes currently available on the 'transition' in Russia, most of which are crammed with jargon and are impenetrable to all but the specialist. Service has the authority of the specialist that he undoubtedly is, but he also has the gift of communicating his ideas. His "Russia" is occasionally repetitive and occasionally a little dry, but it is written with commendable clarity and readability. It should be required reading for all those interested in understanding the modern Russia.