"Master of the World"

Ivan the Terrible. Peter the Great. Lenin. Stalin. Russia’s most dictatorial, controlling leaders tend to be those whose names are etched in global history. Maybe that’s why Vladimir Putin seems so keen to emulate them. David Cameron was in Moscow today to meet Putin, currently the Prime Minister, and Medvedev, the President, which gives me an excuse to do something I’ve always wanted to do… write a politics blog. If the mere mention of politics is enough to make you switch off, scroll down to the bottom for an anecdote about mullets!

In Russia you cannot escape Putin. His face, always severe (fake smiles don’t cut it in Russia) glares down from massive billboards, presumably from Kaliningrad on the Baltic to Vladivostok on the Sea of Japan. He is on the news every day, sometimes more than once. In fact, from what I’ve seen so far, the news on Rossiya 1 (= BBC1) is a bit like a reality TV show documenting Putin’s every move. That’s not to say that President Medvedev doesn’t get coverage as well, but, inevitably, he gets overshadowed by Russia’s self-styled ‘natural leader’. For example, today Medvedev was shown hosting a meeting to discuss a suitable response to the tragic air crash which killed the whole of the Locomotive Yaroslavl ice hockey team last week. This was immediately followed by a speech from Putin, apparently chairing his own meeting, on exactly same issue. Anything you can do, I can do better…

As far as I can see, this is all part of Putin’s master plan, and a masterful plan it is. According to the constitution, Putin had to give up the presidency in 2008. But Putin had not exactly made a habit of sticking to the constitution. He didn’t have to go, but he saw an opportunity. By relinquishing the Presidency, he went some way towards silencing those who accused him of being a dictator, and he preserved some legitimacy for both the Russian constitution and political system. Furthermore, by choosing Medvedev, he broadened his support support base without really compromising his own position as ‘natural leader’. This is because, as a Russian friend explained to me yesterday, Medvedev’s approach appeals to the young, educated people who see through Putin’s more blatantly propagandistic methods. They like his enthusiasm for modern technology and his willingness to try out new ideas. In fact, I was surprised that this friend, who studied International Relations at university, considered Medvedev quite independent from Putin. Most western commentators would disagree, but it isn’t their opinion that counts for Putin. His tactic seems to have worked.

Not only does Putin not being President increase his support base (or at least, decrease opposition), it also frees him to cultivate his image as ‘natural leader’. When Russian troops fought in Georgia in 2008, Putin, dressed in his bomber jacket, was able to travel to the front line, where he comforted traumatized Russian citizens and encouraged the soldiers, while Medvedev (wearing a suit), was fully occupied seeking a diplomatic solution with foreign leaders. Another Medvedev-Putin juxtaposition on the news this week strengthened my impression that, for Putin, being Prime Minister is much more fun. First, they showed Medvedev looking bored out of his mind addressing a summit attended by, amongst others, the Presidents of Tajikistan, Kyrgyzstan, Turkmenistan… you get the idea. This was immediately followed by Putin’s appearance at a rock concert, but this wasn’t just any old appearance. Putin, man of the people, rode in at the head of a motorcade of bikers, as fireworks went off in the background. Then, still in his leathers, he proceeded to address the crowd. I thought he looked ridiculous, but, presumably, plenty of people lap it up, and I guess Putin gets a kick out of it.

Elections are going to take place next year, and the only uncertain thing is whether or not Putin decides he wants his job back. General consensus is that he does. Maybe he worries that Medvedev, given another term, might start to act more independently. Maybe he has had enough of cuddling animals, riding bikes and consorting with the people. Or maybe he just wants his title back. His parents chose well when they called him “Vladimir”, which can be translated “Master of the world”. He wishes…

Anyway, on to more important things! Today I had two amusing “Russia moments”. This afternoon, I saw a guy with a horrendous mullet (they are still “in” here) styling his mop in the mirror in the university toilets. Then, as I walked home, a boy who can’t have been more than twelve skidded up to me on his bike and asked for a cigarette. I politely declined.  

PetrozaWhat?

In our first lesson on Monday our teacher welcomed us with a warm smile and enthusiastically assured us that “there is nothing to do in Petrozavodsk. Only study, study study”. We’ll see if she’s right…

I think Petrozavodsk is a bit like Sheffield. It’s quite a big city, but it feels like a town. Although it can’t boast as many trees as Sheffield (which has the most trees per person of any city in Europe) it is a green place, with at least one pleasant park. There are plenty of concerts and plays to go to; there’s a museum and a gallery, and some lovely walking next to the lake and through the forest, but it certainly isn’t St Petersburg. Also, like Sheffield, there is a big student population, and, alas, the football team is pretty rubbish! Maybe that’s why over half of my class are from Sheffield uni.

Despite being as far north as Anchorage in Alaska, Hudson Bay and the bottom of Greenland, it’s been pleasantly warm so far. I was out and about in shorts and a t-shirt, but the Russians, who seem immune to temperature, still wore hats, coats and some were even wearing gloves! It was tempting to think they must be a bit nesh, but I’m sure I’ll be the one who feels that way when it’s -20, which, as the locals love to point out to us, won’t be long.

I’m living in a flat with a very kindly “Babushka” (Russian grandmother) called Tamara. I daren’t ask how old she is, but my suspicions were raised when she introduced me to her 50 year old son. I’ve since found a “Happy 75th birthday” card, but, in true Russian babushka fashion, she seems fairly unstoppable. At the moment she is at her “dacha”. The “dacha” culture began during the Soviet Union when, in order to compensate for moving everyone into monochrome urban monoliths, they gave them plots of land in the countryside. The people put up simple wooden houses, cleared the land and now they use them like an allotment, growing cabbages (Russia’s favourite vegetable!), marrows, carrots, tomatoes, cucumbers, potatoes, raspberries, apples, beans etc. September is a great month to arrive, because all these things are fresh. Our fridge is already loaded, and no doubt there will be more tomorrow when Tamara returns.

So far I’ve been very comfortable in Tamara’s little fourth floor flat, which sort of overlooks the lake. Bright paintings, by her daughter, who lives in the states, hang on the walls in the living room. The kitchen, like all Russian kitchens, is cluttered but clean and the radio provides a constant stream of Russian listening practice if I want it. Tamara is also very patient with my Russian. I coped alright with topics like family, school and music, but I felt quite out of my depth when she asked me what I thought of Islamification! I’m sure we will get on well though.

I don’t exactly feel like a student at the university - there is a course run specially for us foreigners (the powers that be, quite rightly, don’t think we are good enough at Russian to study a regular course like study abroad students usually do) which runs from 11:30 til 3 each day. I was starting to despair that I would never be able to meet Russian students, but then we discovered the university choir, which rehearses 3 times a week for 2 ½ hours. I went along on Friday and it was great. We sang the jazziest Kyrie Eleison I have ever come across, and the Russians were very friendly and accommodating. Keeping on the musical theme, one of the few things I understood at church on Sunday was that they were doing auditions for a musical version of John’s gospel. Rather nervous, but determined not to miss an opportunity, I went along today. It seemed like they were fairly short of people, so I might end up with a part - that will be interesting!

I found the church through a charity which runs a “Christian Centre” in a local secondary school. After my audition today I went along there to meet some of the young people and received another warm welcome. I thought that I might be able to sit and listen while they got on with it, but no - I was asked, actally, told, to share something with the group. After stumbling around for a while trying to think of something I could explain in Russian, I ended up talking about hope, something Russia certainly lacks. I’d just read an article from the Economist (http://www.economist.com/node/21528596) which paints a very gloomy picture of the situation here. Sadly, it’s not too far from the truth. Russia is a difficult place to live. It’s freezing cold for four months a year and it rains a lot. Most of the infrastructure was shoddily thrown together in Soviet times and it is falling apart - the roads are particularly bad. Wages are generally low and everyone pays the same tax rate (so they hit the poor hardest), but prices aren’t much lower than in the UK, while gadgets cost a small fortune (£600 for an iPhone!). But the worst thing is the political system, which is hopelessly inefficient, corrupt and dominated by a privileged few. It is the entrenchment of this system, under the increasingly authoritarian Prime Minister Vladimir Putin and his puppet-President Dmitri Medvedev which makes Russians doubt whether things could ever get better. Having said all this, the people I’ve met don’t let this hopelessness get them down. Yesterday I asked one girl if Russians used sarcasm - she replied “Of course, if we didn’t, we couldn’t survive living in a place like this”. And they do survive, and I will survive too. Hopefully, I might even have some fun along the way!