Beware the Third of October!

Beware the Third of October!

As if heeding some irrepressible call from the bowels of history, Russia’s politicians made October – the month of revolution – one of the most contentious of the past year. President Boris Yeltsin sent the first shot over the bow, warning that his patience “was not without limits” when it came to parliament’s foot-dragging on his government’s legislation.

What made this statement stand out from the now “normal” atmosphere of deep conflict and mistrust was its timing. Yeltsin’s warning, in an October 3 radio address, was made on a very dark anniversary. Four years ago on this day, Yeltsin had sent tanks and paratroopers to storm the “White House,” where rebellious legislators were hold up. Hundreds died in the attack and Yeltsin’s image has been marred by the attack ever since. Nonetheless, the not-so-subtle hint that Yeltsin might dissolve parliament if it did not “behave” was caught by all.

But, in contrast to four years ago, such a “spark” resulted not in demonstrations and street violence, but in a couple of bellicose statements from Communist Party leader Gennady Zyuganov about a no-confidence vote. Yet, even though his party holds a larger number of seats in the Duma than any other, the threat was empty – the votes were just not there. Perhaps this was because, as some cynical observers said, the parliamentarians did not want to risk dissolution which, among other things, meant a cuttoff in salary payments.

In the midst of the contentiousness, Prime-Minister Viktor Chernomyrdin addressed the Duma and, in his typical folksy style, addressed certain lawmakers’ nostalgia for the past, “when everybody had everything.” “Those who had everything,” Chernomyrdin bellowed, “stand up! ... If you are antsy, scratch elsewhere!”

Meanwhile, the most interesting retrospective on the October 3rd anniversary showed up in the new Russky Telegraf daily newspaper. It chose to consider more distant historical parallels. The paper postulated that, had Yeltsin acted less decisively in October 1993 toward such violent opposition, as Prime Minister Kerensky did in the summer of 1917, the press would now be accusing him of flacid liberalism. But, since Yeltsin chose a more decisive, albeit unconstitutional, method of resolution, perhaps fearing a repeat of October 1917, he is reproached as anti-democratic. Yeltsin, Russky Telegraf concluded, faced a no-win situation.

Thankfully, October 1997 did not even barely resemble October 1917 or even October 1993. As a measure of the difference four years have made, one need look no further than the province of Kursk. The regional governor there is none other than Alexander Rutskoy, former Russian vice-president and leader of the parliamentary opposition of four years ago (who at one point called on his followers to take the Kremlin by force). After serving a symbolic term in Lefortovo prison, a tanned and rested Rutskoy seems to have shed his populist image for that of the benevolent noble, acquiring a new young bride (who claims aristocratic roots) and – an informed source tells us – a formal office worthy of a grand duke from an earlier era.

Another governor well-known to all Russia-watchers has had less luck lately with law-enforcement bodies, despite having taught law for many years at a special school for the Ministry of Internal Affairs. He is Anatoly Sobchak, a one-time professor of law become parliamentarian and mayor of Russia’s second largest city, St. Petersburg (Yeltsin later appointed him as a governor of St. Petersburg). A superb orator, Sobchak was, from 1989 to his election loss of the mayoralty in 1996, at the forefront of Russia’s struggle to democracy. But now there are charges of embezzlement and corruption.

The case took a dramatic turn this month when, in the course of investigating the charges against Sobchak, a reinforced escort of a ten Interior Ministry police brought the ex-mayor in for questioning, during which he apparently fell sick, suffering from an irregular heart beat. His doctors expressed serious concerns about his health and cries of outrage rang out from the St. Petersburg intelligentsia about the less than genteel treatment of a former mayor. Some saw the arrest as a poorly disguised attempt – orchestrated from the top – to thoroughly discredit someone who might still have been a strong presidential candidate. Indeed, President Yeltsin’s personal friend Mstislav “Slava” Rostropovich published an open letter to the president saying the methods for dealing with Sobchak could not be used “even on bandits.”

Despite conflicts and conspiracies in a month that has not always been kind to Russia, there was one law passed last month that evoked universal approval. It is a law establishing the last Sunday of November as Mother’s Day. The good news is, of course, that mothers are being remembered. And mothers and fathers alike enjoy every holiday they can get. The bad news is that the holiday will fall on a Sunday (November 30 this year), meaning no gain in leisure time, no alleviation of the hardship of mothering in Russia. But it is better than nothing and may be a small, “moral factor” in countering the continued decrease in Russia’s population this past year (measured in a decline of some 140,000 souls). A decline that, unfortunately, does not seem to have made a dent in the number of frivolous politicians in our midst.

— Mikhail Ivanov