Johnson's Russia List #5613 23 December 2001 davidjohnson@erols.com A CDI Project www.cdi.org [Note from David Johnson 1. UPI: Martin Walker, Central Asia - Is the US settling in? 2. AP: Russian director Sokurov shoots monumental film in St. Petersburg's Hermitage Museum. 3. New York Times: Thomas Friedman, Russia's Last Line. 4. Washington Post: David Ignatius, Russia Wins the War. 5. Itar-Tass: Russian liberal leader hopes for "constructive cooperation" with authorities. (Yavlinsky) 6. The Observer (UK): Ian Traynor, Atrocity museum angers Russians. Kremlin accuses Germans of 'making us look like Nazis' 7. Los Angeles Times: Eugene Rumer and Jeffrey Simon, Russia Should Have a Seat at the Table. 8. Luba Schwartzman: ORT Review. 9. Newsweek Poland: Andrew Nagorski, Who is Vladimir Putin? The Russian leader has demonstrated a healthy disdain for ideology, but he’s still a product of his KGB upbringing. 10. BBC Monitoring: Russian defence chief's contradictory statements aim to avoid conflict - paper. 11. New York Times: Michael Wines, You Pretend to Drive, We Pretend to Get You There.] ******* #1 Central Asia - Is the US settling in? December 23, 2001 By MARTIN WALKER, UPI Chief International Correspondent Since Saddam Hussein was not toppled, a historian might say that the most important outcome of the 1991 Gulf War was to establish a long-term United States military presence in the Arabian Peninsula and to turn the Persian Gulf into an American lake. The same historian could now also argue that the most significant result of the Taliban war will be to establish a similarly prolonged U.S. military presence in Central Asia — which we now know rivals the Gulf in oil and gas reserves. Last week, the Pakistani newspaper Dawn said that President Pervez Musharraf had agreed to an American request to prolong its stay at the Jacobabad air base for the foreseeable future. The article quoted local military sources and went into considerable detail: "The Americans had asked for 40,000 metric tons of concrete to renovate the base in Jacobabad, according to an aviation source. U.S. officials have asked that a wall surrounding the base be raised four feet, and they want to construct air-conditioned barracks for U.S. troops in time for summer." Air conditioning and barracks, and 40,000 metric tons of concrete (which means a bigger, stronger runway) suggests that the U.S. is settling in for a considerable period, and that the military personnel will not be restricted to pilots and flight crews. There has been no clarification from the Pentagon about the expected tour of duty in Jacobabad. (God help the troops stationed there. Jacobabad is one of the hottest places on earth, with summer temperatures soaring to 130 degrees Fahrenheit, and local says one of the few pleasures is watching the scorpions die of heat.) So far, there has been no equivalent reporting of plans for extended stays in Uzbekistan or Tajikistan, where temporary U.S. air bases have been established for the Taliban war. Nor is there any suggestion that the airmen, or the troops of the 10th Mountain Division are preparing to pack up and go home. There are obviously very good reasons for the U.S. to have established temporary bases in the countries around Afghanistan while the war against al Qaida and the Taliban was under way. There are similarly good reasons to stay on as the hunt for Osama bin laden continues and as the international community seeks to restore stability to the battered people and fabric of Afghanistan. But at some point the question will be raised in the congress, which must vote for the funds to pay for it, how long should this American presence be maintained. And one factor that should figure in their deliberations is that however useful in military and geopolitical terms, American bases can impose some sobering costs. Take, for example, the bases established since the Gulf War. The headquarters of the Fifth Fleet are in Bahrain. There are two big U.S. air bases in Kuwait, at Ali Salem and Ahmed al Jaber, and some 5,000 U.S. troops at Camp Doha. In Saudi Arabia, another 5,000 troops are at the Prince Sultan airbase at al-Kharj, just south of Riyadh. We know why they are there. It's a dangerous neighborhood, with Saddam Hussein just the most immediately threatening factor. The U.S. bases have helped stabilize the region, safeguard the strategic asset of oil, and — to put it charitably — bought time for the less than democratic local regimes to broaden their political base. At the same time, the U.S. bases have become a target. Remember the 19 U.S. troops killed in the 1996 bombing of the Khobar Towers barracks in Saudi Arabia. And recall that in his fatwas, Osama bin Laden always put top of his complaints list the presence of the infidel Crusader troops on Islam's holy peninsula. This is not just an Islamic phenomenon. This week saw riots in the South Korean capital of Seoul over the continued American presence at a military base in the heart of the city. The American bases at Okinawa are a constant irritant, however welcome the broader American security umbrella has been to Japan as a whole. The presence of American troops and airmen in Central Asia came with a conditional Russian approval, which seems to have included an understanding on the Russian side that these would be temporary postings. Maybe the Russians would welcome an extension, if the current NATO-Russian courtship prospers. Maybe, but two big questions remain. The first is the reaction of Beijing, which now sees American bases to the West, in Japan and South Korea, and now to the East, in Pakistan and Central Asia. Whatever may be the Chinese word for encirclement, they are probably using it in the Peoples Liberation Army HQ these days. The second question may be more immediate. Last week's attack on the India parliament in New Delhi, and India's blame of Pakistan, has revived the worries about relations between those two nuclear-armed neighbors. Not that the presence of the American air base at Jacobabad guarantees any kind of U.S. protection or involvement, and it may even help to cool the situation. But it certainly exposes American troops to a highly dangerous situation, before Congress or public opinion has had much chance to think about the implications. ******* #2 Russian director Sokurov shoots monumental film in St. Petersburg's Hermitage Museum December 23, 2001 By IRINA TITOVA ST. PETERSBURG, Russia (AP) - Renowned Russian director Alexander Sokurov turned his camera on the Hermitage on Sunday, shooting a film on the museum's 300-year history in a single, 90-minute take. ``It's a movie as if in one breath,'' Sokurov said. The maker of cult movies about Soviet founder Vladimir Lenin and Adolf Hitler said the film, titled ``The Russian Ark,'' was meant to be a unique ``art form that combines stage play, documentary, and musical moments'' shot in one place at one time. ``I have a great desire to create this form,'' Sokurov said. ``It's not a universal way of shooting, but it's so challenging.'' The Russian Ark project required more than six months of rehearsals with 1,000 actors, dlrs 2.5 million in investment, and 13,000 costumes. It also required enormous strength from Tilman Buttner, Germany's premiere steadicam specialist, to carry 35 kilograms (77 pounds)of camera equipment non-stop while shooting the action on the 1.5-kilometer (1-mile) route through 35 Hermitage halls. The Hermitage, housed in the former Winter Palace, has 350 rooms. It is one of the surviving glories of imperial Russia, built when St. Petersburg was the ``window looking out on Europe'' as envisioned by the city's founder, Peter the Great. In the film, the main character, French aristocrat Marquis de Custine, played by Sergei Dreiden, takes spectators on a fantastic journey inside the palace from the beginning of the 18th century to modern times. He encounters characters from different eras of Hermitage and St. Petersburg history, including Peter the Great, Catherine the Great and Czar Nicholas I. The Winter Palace is shown during the 1941-44 siege of Leningrad, as the city was known in Soviet times. The film also portrays the dynasty of museum directors, including the present director, Mikhail Piotrovsky, who plays himself in the movie. ******* #3 New York Times December 23, 2001 Russia's Last Line By THOMAS L. FRIEDMAN MOSCOW—Because of Moscow's exploding middle class, you quickly notice two things driving around this increasingly European city — sushi bars are opening all over (yes, from borscht to Big Macs to California-Kremlin rolls in one decade!) and so many people have cars now that traffic is permanently snarled (imagine Jakarta with snow and ice and you've got today's Moscow). So sitting in gridlock the other day in Pushkin Square, I had plenty of time to ask my Russian friend Viktor a cosmic question: Is your life easier or harder now than it was under Communism? "Both," he remarked. "It's easier because I don't have to hunt for food every day and wait in lines for everything. Stores are full now. No lines. But it all costs a lot of money. The saying here now is that there is only one line left in Russia — the line for money." So Karl Marx's theories have finally triumphed in today's Russia: it's all about money. That's the key to understanding President Vladimir Putin, too. He's not a tougher Mikhail Gorbachev, or a more sober Boris Yeltsin. He is Russia's first Deng Xiaoping — Mao's pragmatic successor who first told the Chinese that "to get rich is glorious" and put in place the modernizing reforms to do it. Abba Eban once said that men and nations will always do the right thing in the end — after they exhaust every other possibility. That is Mr. Putin's basic message to Russians: "For a decade, we've tried every bad idea, from default to devaluation to shock therapy. Now there's only one idea left: passing real reform legislation so we can get real investment to build a real modern economy. Because in this world, without a real economic foundation, you're nothing. So we're going to focus now on the only line that matters — the line for money." This is Putinism: From Das Kapital to DOScapital. And it explained to me why Mr. Putin rolled over so meekly on President Bush's decision to walk away from the ABM treaty, limiting missile defenses. In 1972, when that treaty was forged, Russian foreign policy was about one thing — geopolitics, the ideologically driven global competition for influence with the U.S., and everything, particularly economics, was subordinated to that. Hence all the food lines. Today, Russian foreign policy is about two things — geopolitics and geoeconomics — and there is a real competition between the two. So if Russia can save money and win Western help by walking away from the ABM treaty, then walk it will. Don't be fooled, though. Russia's military and foreign policy elite considered Mr. Bush's ABM move "a slap in the face," said the Russian pollster Igor Bunin. If the U.S. doesn't come through now with what Mr. Putin believes he's been promised — a new accord for deep cuts in nuclear weapons, a real Russia-NATO partnership, plus debt relief, W.T.O. membership and Western investment, Mr. Putin will be seen as another Gorbachev — always giving and never receiving. "Then elites could start to form a front against him," added Mr. Bunin. But for now, Mr. Putin is ignoring the whispers because in his view Russia will never again be a player in geopolitics unless it first masters geoeconomics. What's new in today's Moscow is that there are young capitalists coming of age, and they believe they can get rich the Chinese way, by making things, not the old Russian way, by taking things from the state or from the ground. And without anyone noticing, in 2001 Russia's Parliament quietly passed a lot of the judicial and tax reform legislation that America was beating on it to pass for a decade. I had lunch the other day in a combination art gallery-restaurant, Ulitsa OGI, which is part of a successful new chain started by Dmitry Jekovich and his partner. "The difference between us and the oligarchs is that we're oriented on creating something new, not just privatizing something that existed before," he explained. The self-confidence of Russia's new generation that it can actually do this "capitalist thing" has enormous geopolitical significance. One reason that Russia was so zealous about keeping so many nukes, and reflexively opposing the U.S., was because these were the only currency that defined it as a superpower. If Russians believe they can be powerful on the basis of geoeconomics, they aren't going to surrender all their nukes or quest for influence, but the chances of their being real partners with the West will be much, much greater. So keep rootin' for Putin — and hope that he makes it to the front of Russia's last line. ******* #4 Washington Post December 23, 2001 Russia Wins the War By David Ignatius As the dust begins to settle in Afghanistan, it's increasingly clear that the big winner in terms of post-Sept. 11 energy politics is Russia, which now rivals Saudi Arabia as the world's dominant energy producer. Since oil and politics tend to flow in the same direction, the rise of Russia's oil industry will have major strategic impact. It will transform global business, too, as Russian oil companies such as Lukoil and Yukos join the likes of Exxon-Mobil and BP among the "super-majors." The Afghanistan war will give Russia control over the oil flowing out of Central Asia, according to energy experts. That's the practical price Russian President Vladimir Putin can exact for supporting George W. Bush after Sept. 11. The output from the two big Central Asian producers, Azerbaijan and Kakazkhstan, could total roughly 3 million barrels per day by 2010. Russian companies may also be the dominant players in Iraq, regardless of who's in power there. That would add another 6 million barrels per day of potential production under Moscow's loose control. Then add Russia's own production, which now totals more than 7 million barrels per day, and it's obvious that Moscow is on its way to becoming the next Houston -- the global capital of energy. Russia would have a degree of control over about 16 million barrels per day, roughly double the current production of Saudi Arabia. And those totals don't include natural gas, where Russia is already the dominant producer, by far. Russia's emerging dominance of the energy industry is a theme of a recent study by the Petroleum Finance Co., a Washington consulting firm. Their analysts note that when you combine Russia's proven oil and gas reserves, it is already the world's leading energy nation, with about 15 percent more proven reserves than Saudi Arabia. "The U.S. need for Russian cooperation means Moscow will gain most in the new strategic environment," argues a Petroleum Finance analysis of "winners" and "losers" in the post-Sept. 11 world. Russia's political hegemony in Central Asia will be strengthened, according to the study, as will its control over regional pipelines and other export routes. The big change will come as Russian oil companies change from sluggish state-owned giants (and their toxic successors, the privatized companies whose shares were looted by Russian "oligarchs") into dynamic modern companies. These Russian companies today are chronically undervalued because of their robber-baron roots. Yukos, for example, has reserves roughly equal to those of TotalFinaElf. Yet its market capitalization is less than one-tenth that of the European company. "The Russians have realized you can make more money by real capitalism than by stealing," notes J. Robinson West, chairman of Petroleum Finance. Already, Lukoil is planning to list its shares on the New York Stock Exchange -- which will force the company to meet tough U.S. accounting standards. The Russian oil giants are beginning to invest aggressively outside their home market, in areas where the Russians have easy political access. Lukoil, for example, is investing heavily in Iraq's West Qurna field, which is expected to produce nearly 700,000 barrels per day. The company is also exploring for oil in Algeria, Sudan and Libya. "The Russian companies are going to play a major role," agrees Walid Khadduri, the editor of Middle East Economic Survey, an authoritative newsletter on the industry. A big question, he says, is whether Russia will be open to foreign investment in its own energy reserves. Another energy winner in the post-Sept. 11 world is Iran, according to both Petroleum Finance and Khadduri. Like the Russians, the Iranians were important -- if invisible -- allies in America's war in Afghanistan. And they're likely to be rewarded. "Washington has been forced to recognize Iran's strategic interests in the Middle East and Central Asia," explains the Petroleum Finance study, "but Russia's ascendance in Central Asia will limit Iran's political and economic gains." Iran's biggest problem in capitalizing on its new status is its political dual personality. It has a moderate president and a young population so restless it's holding pro-American riots after soccer games. But Iran's mullahs and secret police are clinging to power, and they may hold the nation's oil industry hostage. Saudi Arabia's immense oil reserves will make it a key player in the oil business, regardless of what happens with Russia and Iran. That's why some recent calls by American politicians to reduce dependence on Saudi oil miss the point. Americans can buy less Saudi oil if they want, but in a global marketplace that oil will simply be bought by someone else. Oil is a proxy for power. And the rise of Russia's oil industry is a symbol of Putin's success. In just a few years, Russia has moved from being an economic basket case to Bush's key ally. The economic rewards for Russia's new status are beginning to trickle in. ******** #5 Russian liberal leader hopes for "constructive cooperation" with authorities ITAR-TASS Moscow, 23 December: The main goal of Yabloko is to put Russia on the way of European development, Grigoriy Yavlinskiy said at a congress of the Yabloko Russian Democratic Party on Sunday [23 December]. The Yabloko movement was transformed into the party on Saturday, and Yavlinskiy was elected as the Party Chairman. Yabloko realizes that freedom and justice are impossible without consciousness, tolerance and solidarity, therefore it recognizes the possibility and need for a constructive cooperation with the authorities, Yavlinskiy said. Vladimir Lukin is first deputy chairman of Yabloko, while Aleksey Arbatov, Sergey Ivanenko, Sergey Mitrokhin and Igor Artemyev are chairman's deputies. Former Soviet President Mikhail Gorbachev, who recently became the head of the Russian Social Democratic Party, attended the Yabloko congress. "The political and moral components" of the Yabloko programme coincide with the position of the Social Democrats on key issues, Gorbachev said. The Russian Social Democratic Party is ready for cooperation with Yabloko, he noted. ******* #6 The Observer (UK) 23 December 2001 Atrocity museum angers Russians Kremlin accuses Germans of 'making us look like Nazis' By Ian Traynor In the flat countryside north of Berlin, a decaying triangular complex of wooden huts and barracks remains a chilling symbol of Hitler's killing machine. Opened in 1934, the Sachsenhausen concentration camp became the SS headquarters for running the elaborate camp network in which millions were to die. It was here that 'medical experiments' were conducted on human guinea pigs, that mass killing was refined using gas chambers before the Nazis practised 'industrial murder' on a vast scale. Yet Sachsenhausen also harbours a more obscure, more recent history as the lynchpin of Stalin's gulag in Europe. Mass graves discovered on the site in the former East Germany a decade ago, after the fall of the Berlin Wall, contained the corpses of hundreds of victims not of the Nazis, but of the NKVD, Stalin's secret police. A museum just opened on the fringe of the complex sheds light on the little-known story of the NKVD takeover of the camp after Hitler's defeat. This exercise in historical recovery is angering the Kremlin by highlighting Russia's reluctance to face up to the crimes perpetrated in its name, particularly anything that sullies its great triumph over Nazi Germany. 'This is an attempt to diminish the crimes of the Nazis, to compare the Nazi and the Soviet regimes,' protests Mark Kilevich, a Russian who survived the Nazi camp in the Forties and is now vice-president of the Sachsenhausen International Committee. 'This museum puts the victims and their torturers side by side.' The idea that the new museum is a German attempt at historical revisionism, equating the Holocaust with the gulag, is vehemently rebuffed by the Germans, but forcefully argued by the Russian government. The Russian embassy in Berlin boycotted the opening of the museum earlier this month. The Russian Foreign Ministry spokesman, Aleksandr Yakovenko, attacked the entire concept of a museum devoted to Soviet crimes 'as an attempt to whitewash the crimes of the Nazis. Sachsenhausen testifies to the darkest side of the Nazi genocide, where thousands of our countrymen fell victim,' he said. 'The [museum] organisers aim to equate the crimes of fascism with the actions of the Soviet occupation powers.' The German organisers dismiss the accusations as absurd and the result of a misunderstanding. Irina Shcherbakova, a Moscow historian who helped with the years of research that led to the Sachsenhausen museum, says the fierce Russian opposition is a 'very ominous sign' of a historical taboo. 'It's like the earlier Soviet demagogy that can only talk of victory in the Second World War. We have lots of black spots concerning Germany and the war. The KGB kept it all secret for years.' Sachsenhausen, where Stalin's son Yakov was murdered by the Nazis, was taken over by the NKVD in August 1945. At least 12,000 of the 60,000 people incarcerated there by the Russians died, mainly starving or freezing to death in the bitter winters of 1946 and 1947. The detainees included thousands of junior Nazi officials subjected to rough Russian justice. Many, however, were innocent - including victims of denunciations, large numbers of emigrčs who fled Russia to Berlin during or after the revolution, anti-communists, German social democrats and teenagers groundlessly suspected of being Nazi guerrillas. The Russian government says it has now 'rehabilitated' 8,000 German victims of the NKVD from those years. But the barbarism meted out by the Russians in Germany in the early post-war years - revenge for the appalling suffering inflicted on the Soviet Union by the Third Reich - remains largely hidden from contemporary Russians. In Berlin at the war's end, it is estimated that up to two million German women were raped, mainly by Soviet soldiers. Talk of this and Sachsenhausen is still largely taboo in Russia, where opposition to the museum is reinforced by the fact that most of the 30,000 victims of the Nazis there were Russians. ****** #7 Los Angeles Times December 23, 2001 Russia Should Have a Seat at the Table By EUGENE RUMER and JEFFREY SIMON Eugene Rumer and Jeffrey Simon are senior fellows at National Defense University's Institute for National Strategic Studies. The views expressed here are their own. WASHINGTON -- Russia does not belong in NATO. The Russian people and their leaders are ambivalent about membership in the alliance, nor is the North Atlantic Treaty Organization ready to fully embrace its former enemy and commit to its defense, which could include, for example, a pledge to defend Russia against China. But unless NATO gives Russia a more meaningful seat at the table and a real vote on select issues of mutual interest, the alliance cannot retain its claim as the mainstay of European security. The current arrangement of 19-1, whereby the alliance's 19 members consult Russia, but make decisions without it, maintains Cold War-like divisions in Europe and constrains NATO's already limited capabilities to address the two biggest threats to the continent--terrorism and proliferation of weapons of mass destruction. By denying Russia a vote on these key issues, NATO will run the risk of consigning itself to irrelevance. Next year will be a crucial one for NATO. At the Prague summit in November, the alliance is all but certain to admit new members, including, over Russian objections, the three Baltic nations of Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia, which were once part of the U.S.S.R. But expanding membership is not enough for the alliance to fulfill its new goals. The vision embraced by NATO leaders at the end of the Cold War was that of an alliance transformed and adapted to bring stability to Europe's East and address new challenges to the security of all Europe. This transformation was never intended to mean only geographic expansion. Nor was it supposed to draw new dividing lines in Europe. As a military and political alliance, NATO has two fears when contemplating Russian involvement in its affairs: that the alliance's ability to act militarily might suffer, and that its status as an alliance of democratic nations with shared values would be compromised. Neither fear is justified. In fact, the war on terrorism necessitates closer cooperation between NATO countries and Russia. It would not be an exaggeration to say that Russia, with its political and military support for the war on terrorism and its willingness to stay out of the way of U.S. deployments in Central Asia, has made a greater contribution to the war effort than most of our NATO allies combined (with the notable exceptions of the United Kingdom and Turkey, both of which enjoy special relationships with Washington). The alliance's invocation of its mutual-defense clause on behalf of the United States after Sept. 11 underscored the fact that NATO's strength is no longer primarily military: It's political. Beyond such support, the allies have few means to help the United States defend itself. NATO's ability to act militarily is increasingly dependent on the dwindling group of members with more than token military capabilities and the political will to maintain and use them. Poland, Hungary and the Czech Republic, the first batch of new NATO members after the Cold War, have struggled to meet the military commitments inherent in their membership. Judged in terms of military capabilities alone, alliance strength has, so far, been diluted by expansion. The candidates for the second round of enlargement--Slovenia, Slovakia, Romania, Bulgaria, Albania, Macedonia and the Balkan states--are unlikely to reverse this trend. But new and prospective NATO members do not deserve to be singled out for criticism. Most older NATO members, eager to reap the post-Cold War peace dividend, have not kept up with their defense commitments, either. If NATO has turned a blind eye to the military failings of its current members, why would it consider Russia a threat to NATO defense? Nor is there a credible argument that NATO's political cohesion will be at risk if Russia is given a real voice and a vote on key European security issues. Does anyone really believe that Moscow will have more clout in a gathering of 20 or more European nations, most of which have a long-time relationship with and commitment to the U.S., than Washington? If so, we ought to rethink our commitment to the alliance. Anyone who fears that Russia will exert disproportionate influence in alliance deliberations has no faith in NATO cohesion. There are likely to be crises--in the Caucasus, for example--during which Russia could obstruct alliance moves and decisions. But there are likely to be times when Russian involvement--also in the Caucasus--could prevent a crisis. In the end, greater Russian involvement in NATO is likely to have more influence on Russia than vice versa. The likely result of Russia receiving a vote on select NATO decisions is that it will face, in some instances, the choice between isolation or union with the rest of Europe. It is a safe bet that Moscow will not want to be the odd man out. Arguments that Russia is politically incompatible with NATO do not stand up to scrutiny, either. True, its democracy is young and highly imperfect, its treatment of ethnic minorities often appalling and its relations with neighbors frequently contentious. But when Russia sits down with NATO, it will be sitting at the same table with Turkey, whose ill treatment of Kurds is well known; with France, whose hands and nose were bloodied in a violent colonial war in Algeria and whose top government officials are routinely implicated in corruption scandals; with Germany, whose post-Cold War founding father ended his political career in disgrace after an embarrassing investigation into his party's slush fund. None of this excuses Russia's failings, but they are hardly reason enough to disenfranchise Russia in all matters of European security. When NATO embarked on the path of post-Cold War transformation, it committed itself to do for Europe's East what it had done for Europe's West. Its mission cannot stop at Russia's borders. Russia most likely will choose not to join the alliance formally. But NATO's self-interest dictates that Russia be given a vote on select issues. Practically speaking, this would mean that on issues selected in advance by NATO and Russia--including such things as the deployment of peacekeepers, proliferation controls and anti-terrorist operations--Russian representatives would sit at the table and forge common decisions with NATO members. They would be involved in the crafting of plans instead of being presented with them after the fact. The alliance can use Russian help--its intelligence information and airlift capabilities could prove useful in the war on terrorism, certainly, and Russian cooperation in efforts to combat the spread of weapons of mass destruction and missile technologies will be essential. By bringing Russia into its decision-making, NATO will push Russia in the right direction. A seat at the NATO table for Russia represents an essential step for the organization to renew itself to face the real challenges of the new century. ******* #8 ORT Review www.ortv.ru Compiled by Luba Schwartzman (luba7@bu.edu) Research fellow at the Institute for the Study of Conflict, Ideology and Policy at Boston University HEADLINES, Friday, December 21, 2001 - Questions for Russian President Vladimir Putin are still pouring in - he will answer some of them live on the ORT and RTR television channels on December 24th. - The state of emergency is still in effect on the Black Sea coast of the Caucasus; electricity supplies have been partially restored in the Krasnodarsk krai. - Deputy Minister Viktor Khristenko met with a number of regional leaders to discuss the performance of electricity and heating enterprises. - Israeli Foreign Minister Shimon Peres answered some questions for ORT. He expressed his hopes that Palestinian Authority leader Yasser Arafat is truly in control of the situation in the occupied territories, noted that terrorism is a global development, and asserted that he hopes Russia will maintain good relations with Arab nations as well as with Israel -- since Israel also seeks friendly relations with the Arab states. - The new Gepard nuclear submarine has arrived at its permanent station -- the Gadzhievo naval base of the Northern Fleet. - Reports came in today that the Imandra floating technical station collided with a decommissioned nuclear submarine on December 13th. According to the emergency services of the Northern Fleet and the Murmansk [office of] marine sea-faring, the Imandra was not damaged. - The first contemporary meeting of the Russian Marine College tool place in the St. Petersburg Admiralty. The meeting was chaired by Prime Minister Mikhail Kasyanov. - President Putin has begun his two-day visit to Great Britain. At today's meeting with British Prime Minister Tony Blair, in Blair's suburban residence, President Putin discussed the struggle against international terrorism, Russian-NATO relations, the situation in Afghanistan and bilateral commercial and economic relations. - The fall draft has almost ended. Over 5,000 young men have been sent out from Moscow to military divisions. It's been found, however, that the conduction of the conscription is sometimes unorthodox. Yesterday, about 25 young men of draft age were detained on the street and forcibly brought to the recruitment center. - A new gun model -- the GSh-18 (developed by weapons manufacturers Gryazev and Shipunov) -- was presented at a scientific-technical conference of Tula armorers. The GSh-18 has been tested in Chechnya, and has proved to be an excellent weapon. - Prime Minister Kasyanov thinks that the recent crisis in Argentina could not be repeated in Russia. - The Russian State Duma has passed the Labor Code in the third reading. A special commission has made about 4,000 corrections to the original bill. - In London, Russian Defense Minister Sergei Ivanov met with British Foreign Secretary Jack Straw. They discussed, among other issues, bilateral cooperation in the fight against international terrorism and the non-proliferation of weapons of mass destruction. - A major fire on Moscow's Mir Avenue has been extinguished; no one was injured. The cause of the fire is under investigation. - The Rostov Oblast court has found former Novocherkassk prosecutor Nikolai Voskresov guilty of bribery, abuse of position, and wrongful arrests. - The Declaration of the creation of the Commonwealth of Independent States was signed 10 years ago in Alma-Ata. - A powerful explosion rocked an apartment building in the center of Krasnoyarsk. The bomb was placed in the drainage pipes near the apartment of Pavel Struganov [Pasha Tsvetomuzyka], notorious criminal and deputy candidate of the Krasnoyarsk Legislative Assembly. The neighboring apartment was damaged, but none of its residents were hurt. A case against Krasnoyarsk entrepreneur Anatoly Bukov, who is accused of plotting Struganov's murder has been under investigation. - All stationary police posts on the highway to Georgia were closed for fear of an avalanche. ****** #9 Newsweek Poland December 20, 2001 Who is Vladimir Putin? The Russian leader has demonstrated a healthy disdain for ideology, but he’s still a product of his KGB upbringing By Andrew Nagorski Mikhail Margelov is a fastidious dresser. On the day I come to interview him, he’s wearing a lavender-striped shirt with a white collar, a deep red bow tie, matching cuff links and suspenders. A tall, beefy young parliamentarian, he exudes confidence and charm. At 37, he’s already the chairman of the Russian Federation Council’s Foreign Relations Committee—and, more importantly, close to Vladimir Putin. Like Putin, he has a KGB resume and is quick to let you know it. “WEREN’T YOU HERE in the early 1980s?” he asks with a grin as he ushers me into his office. One of the benefits of hooking up with the KGB early, he explains, was that he got to read my dispatches from Moscow that led to my expulsion from Russia in 1982. He speaks in nearly flawless English, and speaks Arabic, too. He studied both languages at Moscow State University, and then became an Arabic-language professor at the KGB Academy. His grandfather, he notes, was a famous Red Army commander of the Pskov paratrooper division, and his father, who bounced his family around the world “pretending to be a diplomat,” is now deputy chief of the SVR, the Foreign Intelligence Service. Although this introduction takes the form of a casual conversation, it sends a couple of clear-cut messages. First, a KGB background in today’s Russia is a decided plus, and those who have it are proud of it. Second, outsiders should realize that, contrary to their popular image, KGB veterans have the knowledge, experience and breadth of vision that so many of their countrymen lack. In other words, they are among the best and the brightest precisely because their jobs allowed them to see and learn more than anyone else. So, Margelov and others from the Kremlin implicitly argue, no one should be surprised that Putin is proving to be just the leader Russia needs to usher in a new era of political stability and economic growth at home, and to win new respect abroad. AT EASE WITH THE WEST? Those whose political memories stretch back to the early 1980s can be forgiven if they have a sense of déjŕ vu. After all, Yuri Andropov received similar billing when he was preparing to take power then. Although he had presided over the KGB for 15 years as it methodically persecuted a dwindling dissident movement, his supporters claimed that he represented a much-needed chance for renewal after the stagnation and demoralization of the Leonid Brezhnev era. “You Westerners see him as a man of the KGB,” a Soviet official told me at a reception in 1982, when Andropov was positioning himself for the top job. “But he is intelligent, open to new ideas. If he succeeds Brezhnev, he will be more liberal than the current leadership.” Andropov’s minions also spread the word that he spoke English, played tennis, listened to jazz and read mystery novels—most of which was patent nonsense. All of which suggests that a healthy dose of skepticism is still in order when evaluating who Putin is and where he will take his country in 2002 and beyond. But make no mistake: these are very different times than the 1980s, and Putin is a very different leader than Andropov. Putin really is a sportsman—a former judo champion who still knows how to take an opponent to the mat—and really does speak a foreign language, German, very well. More significantly, he is demonstrating both in word and deeds a healthy disdain for ideology—unlike Andropov, who not coincidentally took over the ideology portfolio of the Central Committee before he became general-secretary. This has led to some sensible economic reforms, like a personal-income flat tax, and, of course, Putin’s remarkable overtures to the United States in the wake of the terrorist attacks of September 11. Even after President George W. Bush announced last week that the United States would withdraw from the antiballistic missile treaty in six months, the Russian president offered only a muted dissent, telling The Financial Times of London that this decision wouldn’t jeopardize “the spirit of partnership and even alliance” between Moscow and Washington. Nonetheless, Putin’s KGB credentials are, to put it delicately, something less than an unadorned blessing. His growing popularity is both impressive and troubling because of the means he has used to achieve it. It would be far too simplistic to label Putin as a throwback to the Soviet era who is trying to rebuild the Soviet system. When he insists that he doesn’t want to restore the Soviet Union, he means it. Above all, he’s a pragmatist and, as such, understands that Russia must chart a new course both at home and abroad. But in his own words, he was “a pure and utterly successful product of Soviet patriotic education,” and the evolution of his thinking has to be measured from that starting point. The beliefs he still clings to, as well as those he has jettisoned or at least claimed to have revised, are all part of the answer to the question about what his leadership will mean for Russia and the world. WHAT STALINIST TERROR? Even a cursory examination of the young Putin suggests that, as he was growing up, he questioned nothing in the system he lived in. On the contrary, he was fixated on the idea of joining the KGB because of the organization’s image in “romantic spy stories.” Asked by a Russian interviewer whether he thought about the years of Stalinist terror when he signed up for his dream career, he replied: “To be honest, I didn’t think about it at all.” Referring to the late 1970s when he received his training and began practicing his trade, he blithely added: “Now people say that was when Leonid Brezhnev was beginning to tighten the screws. But it was not very noticeable.” In “First Person,” the series of interviews published in book form when Putin was running for the presidency, his first somewhat critical remark concerns the collapse of East Germany, where he worked during much of the 1980s. “Actually, I thought the whole thing was inevitable,” he claimed, referring to the fall of the Berlin wall. “To be honest, I only regretted that the Soviet Union had lost its position in Europe, although intellectually I understood that a position built on walls and dividers cannot last. But I wanted something different to rise in its place. And nothing different was proposed. That’s what hurt.” Putin, of course, was speaking with the benefit of hindsight. It’s impossible to know whether he truly saw the collapse coming, particularly since he had been blind to so much else before. But the passage is extraordinarily instructive. He doesn’t bemoan the end of communism; he does bemoan the loss of the Soviet Union’s place on the world stage. He longs for “something different” to take its place, clearly a powerful and once-again proud Russia. But that doesn’t happen. Polish writer Ryszard Kapuscinski, whose book “Imperium” chronicled the end of the Soviet Union, concludes that this defines Putin’s current agenda. “He still has the complex about Russia’s loss of great power status,” he says. “That’s what he wants to get back. His strategy is to rebuild Russia as a great power. Everything else is secondary to him. He won’t achieve this goal, but he’ll get as close as he can. And this will make him very popular with his own people. Russian pride always dictated that you are willing to endure anything to be a great power.” STUDIES IN THE RED-LIGHT DISTRICT If Putin was confused and resentful in 1989 and its immediate aftermath, his reeducation began in the 1990s. He started a new job as deputy to St. Petersburg Mayor Anatoly Sobchak, a leading reformer. Reforms in this period went hand in hand with massive crime and corruption, and St. Petersburg was one of the leaders in this department, as well. Putin managed to maintain a reputation as Mr. Clean in the midst of all this, despite a couple of close brushes with local scandals. As head of St. Petersburg’s Committee for Foreign Economic Relations, he had the chance to work closely with Westerners and travel to the West for the first time. In Hamburg, he admitted later, he went with his wife Lyudmila and some friends to an erotic show. He claims to have been reluctant to go, and, he added in “First Person”: “You won’t believe me, but I was assigned to study their red-light district as part of my job. At the time we were trying to bring order to the gambling business in St. Petersburg.” The night out ended melodramatically, when his friend’s wife fainted as “a huge black man” and “a black woman who was just a little girl” began to strip. But the serious side of Putin’s new role was that he began to expand his field of vision. The West, particularly Western investors, were no longer the enemy. In looking for clues to Putin’s dramatic embrace of the United States after Sept. 11, officials close to him point out that this was the period when he began to depart from the assumptions that many of his former colleagues still cling to. Interestingly enough, another veteran of the secret services, Defense Minister Sergei Ivanov, reacted totally differently to the terrorist attacks. Four days after September 11, Ivanov angrily ruled out the possibility that United States and their allies would be allowed to use former Soviet bases in Tajikistan and Uzbekistan for their offensive. “It’s not very strange that it took some time for him to adjust the way he sees the world,” says Margelov, the former KGB Academy professor. He notes that Ivanov spent the 1990s in the SVR headquarters on the outskirts of Moscow while Putin was “polishing his attitude toward another civilization” by working with Westerners in St. Petersburg. Putin quickly set Ivanov straight, and the president’s willingness to see the deployment of U.S. troops in Central Asia as a positive development represents a dramatic break with old-line Russian thinking. Putin is convinced that Russia no longer has to fear the West; he believes that the main threats are coming in the south, where Islamic fundamentalism is on the rise, and in the Far East, where China’s huge population is pressing against sparsely populated Russian territory. In that scheme of things, the next round of NATO expansion, while still irritating, should be no cause for alarm. Especially if the new talk of expanding Russia’s relationship with the 19-member alliance really does develop into a new “NATO at 20,” giving the Kremlin an active role in some of its decision-making. But if Putin’s St. Petersburg experiences changed his thinking about the West, they didn’t dim his pride in the KGB. Igor Shadkhan, a local documentary filmmaker, got to know Putin well in that period-and began making films about him. At one point, Putin urged him to make a film about the KGB building in St. Petersburg. Shadkhan balked, explaining that his grandparents went through the Gulag. “He asked me to do it so that I could see that the new people who worked there had the same feelings about the Gulag as I do,” Shadkhan recalls. But as much as Putin wanted to prove that the KGB had changed with the times, there were clear limits to his new thinking. When a friend of Shadkhan asked Putin what he thought about the writings of Viktor Suvorov, the famous defector from the Soviet military intelligence agency GRU, the future president of Russia snapped: “I don’t read books by traitors of the homeland.” A COMPLETE UNKNOWN After Sobchak was defeated in the 1996 elections, Putin left St. Petersburg and rapidly began rising through the ranks in the Kremlin. By 1998, Boris Yeltsin appointed him head of the FSB, as the former KGB is now called. For all of Putin’s attachment to St. Petersburg where he grew up, he was enjoying the excitement of power in Moscow. When filmmaker Shadkhan visited him and asked him whether he’d return to the city where he grew up, Putin replied: “It’s boring in St. Petersburg.” In August 1999 Yeltsin plucked the faithful bureaucrat out of relative obscurity and made him prime minister. At that point, his approval rating stood at 2 per cent; for most Russians, he was a complete unknown, and the general assumption was that he would be just another in a string of short-term prime ministers. How Putin turned into a president who now boasts an approval rating of about 75 percent reveals a lot about his concept of leadership. Shortly after he became prime minister, a series of explosions tore apart Russian apartment buildings killing hundreds of their inhabitants. Putin promptly emerged as the tough new boss, blaming the Chechens for these killings and vowing to prosecute a new war in their breakaway territory until the army would “wipe the terrorists out wherever we find them, even if they are sitting on the toilet.” Despite the rueful precedent of the first war in Chechnya, most Russians applauded. “In a difficult situation, people look to the boss for leadership,” notes Alexander Oslon, the president of The Public Opinion Foundation, which works mainly for the Kremlin. “At the time, the West didn’t understand what was happening with Putin’s approval rating. Now, we see the analogy with Bush after September 11.” (What he fails to mention, however, is that a small but not insignificant minority of Russians believes the persistent rumor that the FSB was responsible for the apartment building bombings.) Oslon and others who seek to bolster Putin’s image claim that much more than Chechnya accounts for his growing popularity. They point to his early, successful drive to end the problems with irregular payments of pensions. Then he put an end to much of the squabbling in the Duma by cutting a deal with the communists and neutralizing other potential opponents. His reorganization of the Federation Council meant that he ended the virtual autonomy of many regional governors and brought federal policy in line with “the vertical chain of government” that he espouses. He also pushed through a sensible budget, and began pressing for a series of reforms in other areas—taxes, the judiciary, private land sales and education. Much of this is still in the early stages, but he has convinced many of his countrymen that he is dedicated to bringing order out of the chaos of the 1990s. As in foreign policy, he has demonstrated a willingness to rethink economic priorities. In a meeting with American correspondents in November, he criticized Russia’s “excessive dependence on the fuel and energy sector over the last decade” and the failure to create “a genuinely modern and cost-effective economy.” This would suggest that he will be aiming for that goal in the years ahead, and that he will try to convince foreign investors who were burned in the economic crisis of 1998 that it’s safe to return. It’s on the home front, though, that troubling signs remain. Pollster Oslon finds nothing wrong with explaining that another key reason for Putin’s high approval ratings was his successful campaign “to distance big capital from politics.” Or, in plain language, the pressure that led to the takeover of media outlets, like NTV and the weekly newsmagazine Itogi (which was published in cooperation with NEWSWEEK until then) that had been critical of his policies. Media mogul Vladimir Gusinsky was briefly imprisoned then fled the country, as did another once-powerful “oligarch,” Boris Berezovsky. TOTAL DENIABILITY To Putin and his team, media criticism was the problem, for instance, when the Kursk submarine sank last year—not the president’s initial reluctance to cut short his vacation in Sochi or his seeming indifference to the plight of the doomed submariners and their families. “If the subject exists in the mass media, it exists in public opinion,” says Oslon. “If it doesn’t, it doesn’t exist in public opinion.” Ergo, take control of the messenger. While praising the vision of the late dissident Andrei Sakharov, Putin calmly explained during a radio interview in the United States last month that “the Russian mass media are as free as in any other nation.” At the same time, a new campaign was already underway to seize control of TV 6, the last major station to provide a haven to journalists who lost their jobs in the previous crackdown. Such actions are conducted with total deniability. The struggle for ownership of TV 6, Putin’s chief of staff Alexander Voloshin told me, is “a question for businessmen.” Similarly, the fact that successive anticorruption campaigns often target political foes is purely coincidental, Putin’s people say. But this was a tactic that Andropov used in the old days, and critics maintain that the echoes are eerie at times. They note that many of the current reforms—for instance, of the judiciary—provide the state with more levers of influence rather than less. And recent arrests of “spies” on hazy charges, and prosecution of environmentalists and scholars for violating new secrecy laws in their contacts with foreigners only accentuate those fears. “We’ve been warning for years that the special services have a growing influence in this society, and no one wanted to listen,” says former political prisoner Sergei Grigoryants, the president of the Glasnost Foundation. “Now you can see the result.” In Putin’s Russia, the president is no longer billed as Yeltsin’s successor. Instead, the same imagemakers who ran Yeltsin’s 1996 reelection campaign now present the two men as opposites. According to them, Yeltsin was “a destroyer,” someone who performed the unpleasant if necessary task of destroying the Soviet Union and its way of life. Putin, however, is “a builder,” someone who is building the new Russia that he so sorely missed when the Soviet system collapsed. Judging by his high approval rating, this strategy is working—and Putin genuinely deserves credit for some bold initiatives. But it helps that there are fewer and fewer avenues to seriously challenge the hold of the man whose formative years were spent in the KGB. NEWSWEEK POLAND (Newsweek Polska) is Newsweek’s newest foreign-language edition. It was launched in September. ****** #10 BBC Monitoring Russian defence chief's contradictory statements aim to avoid conflict - paper Source: Nezavisimaya Gazeta, Moscow, in Russian 21 Dec 01 According to Russian newspaper Nezavisimaya Gazeta, Defence Minister Sergey Ivanov has made certain statements which are not entirely in line with the Kremlin's official position. The newspaper says one reason for such a situation is that the defence minister must take into account the position of the General Staff, which still sees NATO as a potential enemy. The following is the text of the report, published on 21 December. The subheadings have been inserted editorially: Russian Federation Defence Minister Sergey Ivanov is still making mutually exclusive statements on highly important foreign policy problems. While in Brussels, he announced Russia's readiness to support counterterrorist operations outside Afghanistan if it "receives weighty, well-reasoned proof of the existence of international terrorist structures." However, the following day in London Ivanov said that he considered it premature to conduct such operations in other parts of the world. Previously similar contradictions were discerned in Sergey Ivanov's position on the problem of the use of CIS territory by the US and other NATO states' armed forces in the course of the operation against the Taleban regime as well as with regard to a Russian contingent's participation in the peacekeeping forces in Afghanistan. Some statements by defence minister fail to conform A number of statements by the head of the Defence Ministry, to be specific, with regard to the problem of a professional army, have been directly at variance with the Kremlin's official line. The Foreign Ministry is also showing serious concern. People there consider it abnormal for Sergey Ivanov and [Foreign Minister] Igor Ivanov to put forward opposing viewpoints on the same international problem. Let us point out that the evolution of Sergey Ivanov's views is taking place with amazing rapidity. Thus, at the 37th International Conference on Security Issues in Munich in February 2001 he sounded the alarm, saying that the deployment of the US national antimissile defence system "would lead to the destruction of the whole structure of strategic stability, creating the preconditions for a new arms race, including in space". However, in December during a meeting with the leaders of the Strategic Missile Troops high command the defence minister abandoned his former radicalism. In his opinion, the United States' unilateral withdrawal from the ABM treaty will merely create a "certain vacuum" from the viewpoint of strategic stability and Ivanov himself takes a "fairly calm" view of this decision on the part of the United States. What is more, national missile defence "is a myth". Moscow's line that the "United States' withdrawal from the ABM treaty does not threaten Russia's security" was officially enshrined 18 December in the final communique of the North Atlantic Council session at defence minister level. Sergey Ivanov claimed in Munich that Russia is prepared for "mutual radical cuts in strategic offensive arms to 1,500 warheads or even lower with the United States" only provided that the ABM treaty is preserved. Now this has been safely forgotten. Following Ivanov's talks in Brussels with Rumsfeld the preparation for the conclusion of a new treaty on strategic offensive arms will take an accelerated pace. This document will be ready for signing as early as summer 2002. At the same time, as the Russian defence minister said in Brussels, "the ceilings for strategic offensive arms cuts are known, neither side will discuss who needs how many warheads on the ground, at sea, and in the air - our hands are free on this issue". General Staff still sees NATO as possible enemy Why is this division occurring? On the one hand, Sergey Ivanov has to take account of the position of the General Staff, which still regards the United States and NATO as the potential enemy. A typical example of the level of strategic thinking of the Russian military top brass is an article by Col-Gen Yuriy Baluyevskiy, first deputy chief of the General Staff, with the pretentious headline "instrument of US hegemonism," which was published not so long ago in Voyenno-Istoricheskiy Zhurnal [the military history magazine]. In the author's opinion, "the United States is pursuing a policy of strong-arm pressure on the governments of sovereign states everywhere, often violating the norms of international law". Baluyevskiy then reaches the conclusion of the "offensive thrust of US military policy." There is no need for comment here. On the other hand, as the Kremlin's political appointee, Sergey Ivanov is obliged to implement President Putin's policy and he has chosen the course of close rapprochement with the West and the establishment of partnership relations with the United States. Teetering between the Kremlin and the General Staff, the defence minister is forced to say one thing today and quite another tomorrow. ******* #11 New York Times December 22, 2001 MOSCOW JOURNAL You Pretend to Drive, We Pretend to Get You There By MICHAEL WINES MOSCOW, Dec. 21 — This city's widest, busiest, most expensive and most fabled highway was first built under Nikita Khrushchev's rule, but it was not until late 1998, after an ambitious reconstruction project, that it reached its current exalted status. Ten lanes wide, 67.73 miles long, costing more than $1 billion (nobody seems quite sure how much more), it draws a colossal limited-access concrete circle around Russia's capital. Its formal name is Moskovskaya Koltsevaya Avtomobilnaya Doroga — the Moscow Ring Automobile Road — but everyone calls it by its acronym, MKAD, pronounced "muh- COD." It is the nation's only Western-style superhighway. At 7 p.m. one week ago, 23-year-old Andrei Bogdanov got on the MKAD, intent on spending a snowy evening with friends who live near an interchange some 20 miles away. Unfortunately, there was a traffic jam. He did not reach his exit until 11 a.m. the next day. Mr. Bogdanov's is an amazing story, filled with good old Russian ingenuity and classic Russian stoicism. It is all the more amazing because the 16-hour traffic jam on the MKAD — an event which, among many other things, led frantic parents to entrust their children to passing strangers and left one man dead of a heart attack — passed virtually unnoticed here. Traffic in Moscow can be that bad. Indeed, Mr. Bogdanov said, his wife, Anya, did not bat an eye when he failed to turn up for 16 hours. "She's a Muscovite," he said. "She knows such things can happen." To be fair, Dec. 14 was not a good day to be on the MKAD. A four-inch snowfall had made driving tricky. That morning, 45,000 people swamped the grand opening of an Ikea furniture store south of town, overloading the ring road. And as every good Russian knows, Friday is the day to leave work early and head to one's dacha, meaning main roads are already clogged. This did not deter Mr. Bogdanov. That evening he left his job at a downtown Moscow computer firm and set out for the forest of modern high-rises in Moscow's Mitino neighborhood, where his friends live. He pointed his 1998 silver Subaru station wagon east until he reached the MKAD interchange, where he entered, heading north. Rather, he tried to head north. "I was driving on the outer side of the ring road. All the roads toward the city center were blocked by cars — they were jammed," he said. "Gradually, I drove up to Yaro slavsky Road, where we actually stopped completely." It was now 9 p.m. He dialed his wife on his cellular phone to say he was stuck in a traffic jam. Over the next two and a half hours, his Subaru moved about 45 yards. It was 11:30 p.m. About midnight, Mr. Bogdanov saw strange doings among drivers in another lane. "They were trying to organize this movement backwards," he said. "There was a turn to some side road leading to a village, and they hoped they'd be able to move backwards to this side road and somehow get out." Some 100 cars began edging backwards in unison, to little avail. Drivers seized the space they created, trapping them even farther behind. The parade edged past swooping cloverleaf interchanges, yet nobody could exit. Each time, apparently, the way was blocked by pileups of cars and trucks. By 1 a.m., drivers began abandoning their cars. At about 2 a.m., cars that had been creeping more swiftly along the MKAD's inner ring, in the opposite direction, began pulling over. Out came relatives of marooned drivers, bringing fresh provisions, warm clothes, even gasoline to loved ones located by cellular phone. It was now 2:30 a.m. In the dead of night, entrepreneurs sprang from houses near the superhighway with bags of homemade sandwiches, hawking them to starving drivers and passengers. "There were children in some cars," Mr. Bogdanov said, "and in some cases the parents took their kids, got on the other side of the road and begged people to take them home. I saw one case where somebody's friends stopped on the other side to bring food. So one driver took his kid, about 7 years old, and asked this lady to drive him home." It was 3 a.m. Nature's call, long insistent, became irresistible for some. But the MKAD is fenced in by tall, soundproofing walls, leaving no discreet place to seek relief. Four drivers edged their cars into a bumper-to-bumper rectangle. Despite the occasional headlight and 5- degree cold, the instant privy did land-office business. It was 4 a.m. Tempers long held in check began to flare. According to www.auto.ru, an automotive enthusiasts' Internet chat room that chronicled the tie-up, a band of furious drivers ordered a truck driver to turn off his idling engine. He refused. They shattered his window. "Where are the authorities?" someone cried out. "We've been here long enough to get a loan from the Americans and buy choppers from Japan to clear this mess." Meanwhile, radio stations made no mention of the jam. It was 6:30 a.m. Success! Mr. Bogdanov managed to edge off the ring onto an obscure side road. He immediately became hopelessly lost. He edged southward until he again found the ring road. "I saw some movement there. Finally, the cars had begun moving!" he said. He rejoined the throng, only to find that the movement was by cars whose drivers, like himself, had found their way off the freeway. It was 7 a.m. The sun rose. It would take another four hours and, in all, 10 gallons of gas for Mr. Bogdanov to complete the 20-mile trek to his friends' house. Asked today about the huge traffic jam, a senior inspector at the department for propaganda of the Moscow traffic police said, in essence, that it never happened. "The situation became stable in two or three hours," said the official, who refused to be identified. "All the drivers had a chance to leave the ring road. There were many exits. There is no way they could just stand there for 16 hours." The official conceded that a man died during the tie-up. "He died from heart insufficiency," the official said. "That could happen to anyone." Just the same, Moscow newspapers report, the traffic police have issued a bit of holiday advice for Moscow motorists. From Dec. 20 to Jan. 10, the advisory said, it is probably better not to drive at all. ******