IN NOVEMBER, the rumor mill went into overdrive about Russian President Vladimir Putin's health, when Putin, usually an active traveler, did not venture outside Moscow for nearly two months. The Kremlin kept mum, rejecting allegations of a serious illness, while the media speculated wildly about reports ranging from a judo or crane-leading injury to something far more serious. Belarusian President Alexander Lukashenko and Japanese Prime Minister Yoshihiko Noda confirmed that not all was well in the Kremlin, that the head of the Russian state was ill.
Even official pictures showed the Russian leader clutching at backs of chairs while dignified officials, such as Turkish Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdogan, helped him sit down.
As in the Soviet era, the Russian public pricked their ears for any cues – changes in the President's gait, his expressions, and quotes by anonymous sources about what ails him – knowing, of course, that the official Kremlin position would be to deny any allegations that Putin is not his usual flying, swimming, and black-belt-wrestling self. "Putin's back is more popular than J Lo's derriere," one headline said. One paper quoted sources as saying that Putin's image was being recast from that of a physically active macho man to a more subdued patriarch of Russian values.
In an event laced with dark irony, Putin's first trip abroad after all this speculation, in December, was to Istanbul. Observers watched closely for any signs of sickness.
Then Putin's diplomatic right hand, Foreign Minister Sergei Lavrov, appeared on Day 2 with his left hand in a thick bandage (above, right), and his lip visibly bruised. Did he fall down the stairs? Did he sprain it in a gym? The questions piled up. When a journalist meekly posed a health-related question to the diplomat at a briefing, Lavrov barked out "are you from a yellow newspaper?" and stormed out of the room, leaving journalists to their guessing games and assumptions.
The next media quip was as perfect as it was predictable:
"He slipped, lost consciousness, came to in a cast!" ("Поскользнулся, потерял сознание, очнулся, гипс.")
It is one of the many famous lines from the classic Soviet film, Diamond Arm (Бриллиантовая рука), in which an ordinary Soviet citizen, Semyon Semyonovich Gorbunkov trips during a group tour in Turkey, and falls into the middle of a hilarious plot with diamond smugglers, who hide gems inside his cast.
In early December, however, when Putin delivered his "vigorous" (to quote the Moscow Times) 81-minute state of the nation speech to parliament, there was no hint of a presidential hobble or injury.
Case closed?
46% of Russians believe they should receive full information on the health of the President
38% believe this information is confidential and should not be discussed in public
(Levada Center poll, December 2012)
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