The Power of Seven

Numeric idioms, as the above column indicates, have a special place in the Russian lexicon. And certainly the number seven is a first among equals in this regard.

If you need any proof of this, suffice it to note that seven is current Russian President Vladimir Putin’s favorite number. Perhaps this had some bearing on Vladimir Vladimirovich’s division of Russia into seven new federal districts. And it may have been one reason why he reportedly sought to make the presidency a seven-year post instead of a four-year one. But this is just idle speculation.

What we do know is that Putin’s love for seven is shared by his fellow Russians – perhaps even contributing to his high approval ratings.

Семь раз отмерь – один раз отрежь (Measure seven times before you cut.), Russians love to say when it comes time to make a crucial decision. And when a group of Russians are tired of waiting for someone who is late, they may quip that “seven don’t wait for one” (Семеро одного не ждут). While a Russian diplomat might find the former proverb useful in discussions with his American counterpart about the inadviseability of breaching the 1972 ABM treaty, he is advised to avoid the latter one, as it might get miscontrued in the context of the G-7, to which Russia is a “late” partner number eight.

But perhaps Russians and Americans can broach their differences by remembering what they share in common. Like the idiom used to express joy: Я был на седьмом небе от счастья. (I was in Seventh Heaven from happiness.)

Perhaps the number seven’s popularity can be traced to Moscow, long renowned for being located on seven hills (на семи холмах). Whatever the reason, proverbs featuring this magic number abound: Один с сошкой, а семеро с ложкой (One with a plough, seven with a spoon – meaning one man does the work, but seven take the pickings), or how about the beautiful Для милого дружка и семь верст не околица (Even seven versts is not too far to travel for a dear friend.)

Of course, Russian students, like those the world over, study the семь чудес света (seven wonders of the world) and here as everywhere, it is common to call something miraculous or extraordinary the восьмое чудо света (eighth wonder of the world).

Seven has even worked its way into the titles of popular Russian movies. Hence the two comedies Семь стариков и одна девушка (Seven Old Men and One Young Girl) Семь невест Ефрейтора Збруева (The Seven Brides of Private First Class Zbruyev).

In history, seven had an important, often ominous meaning. Take the notorious period known as семибоярщина – when seven boyars were calling the tunes. So, in the Yeltsin era, when seven oligarchs were pulling the Kremlin strings, witty journalists renamed this period the семибанкирщина – the reign of the seven bankers.

But as is often the case in management, seven proved too many for poor Mother Russia. As the proverb has it: У семи нянек дитя без глазу (When there are seven nurses looking after one child, the child ends up losing his eye).

Partly in response to the mess wrought by the семибанкирщина, Tsar Boris picked his successor from the ranks of the organization once headed by a man named Семичастный (literally, “Mr. Seven Parts”): former KGB agent Vladimir Putin.

Putin, the lover of the number seven, quickly earned a reputation as a man of few words. So it was not long before the oligarchs began to feel the change in mood from words to deeds. For Putin, it was a case of семь бед – один ответ (literally, “seven crimes, one punishment,” which, in this context, means to take the same sort of decisive action against all the different things that ail you, not fearing the consequences). Or, as courageous Russians say, семи смертям не бывать, одной не миновать (you only die once, not seven times).

In a matter of months, one by one, the seven banker-oligarchs either disappeared from the political scene of their own volition or found themselves far away from Russia. Or, as we say –за семью морями (beyond the Seven Seas).

Two of the most “notorious” oligarchs have taken up residence in Europe. Boris Berezovsky reportedly likes it in London, while Vladimir Gusinsky fought extradition from Spain (and even traveled to the U.S., where he was not touched, despite the fact that Pavel Borodin was arrested in the U.S. and extradited to Switzerland on the same sorts of charges for which Gusinsky is wanted in Russia).

But Russia’s law enforcement bodies are nothing if not determined to bring the oligarchs back to Russia to face charges. Foiled in their first extradition request to Spain for Gusinsky, they are filing yet another. After all, there is no limit to the distance one would go to see a friend again...