One doesn't need the full text of special counsel Robert Mueller's report on Russian interference into the 2016 U.S. presidential election to know that Russiagate, perhaps the most powerful anti-Donald Trump narrative of the last three years, is dead. But it wasn't completely pointless: We can learn important things about both Russia and the U.S. from it.
People who pushed the conspiracy theory are already busy telling their audiences that Trump still isn't out of legal trouble. None of the legalistic niggling, however, will change the basic fact: A thorough, hard-hitting two-year investigation by a team that can't be accused of being Trump sympathizers has found no proof of a conspiracy that has dominated U.S. airwaves since before Trump got elected. After this, any further political use of Russiagate can, and will, be deflected with an eye-roll.
The millions of words written about the conspiracy that wasn't will interfere with a meaningful post-mortem. I find it unnecessary to recall, as my one-time Moscow Times colleague Matt Taibbi did, the lurid details of the dot-connecting orgy; I haven't kept links to the hundreds of tweets in which I was accused of being a shill for Russian President Vladimir Putin when I consistently doubted the narrative. It's important now to be clear-eyed, no matter if you bought the conspiracy theory or not.
One thing that's important to realize is that regional expertise matters. For example, it was obvious to people with some understanding of Moscow's inner workings that looking into the famous Trump Tower meeting on June 9, 2016, wasn't going to yield evidence of Trump-Putin collusion because, at the Russian end, the people involved weren't credible as Kremlin emissaries.
That these signs were largely ignored is evidence that the level of Russia expertise in the U.S. media and intelligence community is lower than it should be. Investing in raising it, both through educational programs and through making more knowledgeable voices heard, should prevent embarrassing mistakes in the future.
Another lesson here is that while spies, former and current, make titillating sources, their thinking can suffer from professional distortions; their training also makes them good at disinformation, so it may not be a great idea to trust them without fully understanding their agenda.
Meanwhile, the Mueller investigation has provided a valuable collection of facts on what Putin's Russia can and cannot do against the U.S.
It can, as Mueller's indictments lay out in great detail, run a mean trolling operation on the social networks. The U.S. political discourse lends itself so easily to abuse that a troll farm in St. Petersburg, linked to an opportunistic caterer and Putin ally, could spread propaganda which fits into this discourse. So could some cash-hungry youths in Macedonia, who turned the town of Veles into U.S. campaign disinformation central in 2016. Given the U.S. social networks' lobbying power and their disingenuous efforts to police themselves since 2016, anyone can still do what these trolls, motivated by malice or financial gain, did that year.