Val Karren - The Deceit of Riches

Dean Karamzin stood up to call the meeting to order. The din of the crowd died down and wispy grey-haired men already hot in debate with each other, took their seats. I noticed Strelyenko in the front row, his full, young head of hair waving without any wind, and thought to myself “now this could get interesting.” I wondered if he was a party member or just here helping the Dean with the administration of the meeting.

The first order of business was the agenda of the meeting read with only one amendment requested from the front row: adopted. Second order of business was to confirm the first party leader. The intellect behind the formation of the party was unanimously elected as party leader; Sergey Nicholievich T. This seemed to be a foregone conclusion as it was his influence that brought the different academics across the various faculties together under one flag. He himself was a professor of Economics and had spent some time in both Moscow and Sverdlovsk consulting Mr. Yeltsin’s cabinet about economic policy. He looked to be fifty years old.

The third matter of business was to agree the Manifesto. We were to hear the reports of the three committees that were tasked to each create a Manifesto chapter on the three pillars of the party. These would then be voted on, to either accept or send the proposed sections of the Manifesto back to the committee for revision and improvement. The first two pillars of the party were predictable, economic and political reform, but my ears perked up when the third pillar was announced: Law and Order, and the Rule of Law.

While the first two draft articles for the manifesto passed without significant debate as they were mostly idealistic statements without policy proposals, the third article caused a massive rift in the room. It read:

“We the LFPNN call on the city, provincial and national governments to fight organised crime wherever it may be found corrupting the rule of law, fairness and transparency and to combat the influence of illegal activities in our communities, places of employment and in government.”

All hell broke loose at this point! Debates suddenly broke out in small groups around the room. Who had proposed something so dangerous and so irresponsible? All the academics were exasperated. People were overheard shouting to the chairman and leader, “Something so direct and accusatory should never be allowed to be published,” and “Who was the head of this committee? It should never have left the committee with such strong words,” and “We will all be shot!” A few people headed for the door and slammed it behind them, fleeing before their names could be recorded as official party members.

The Dean called the room to order again and a proper debate ensued regarding the proposed article. Many of the speakers were all very much against the article as it was written. Several younger members were for it, but the crowd seemed spooked. Then, something electric happened. Strelyenko stood up to speak. The room quieted down to listen.

“Brothers, brothers. Why are we here tonight? Why did you come here tonight? Was it not to make a difference and save Mother Russia from the current thieves and hooligans that are running our country into the ground? You are all smart men, scientific men! Surely you can predict the end if we do not protect ourselves from the gangsters that are quickly now taking over our economy and government, making themselves rich and our children poor. There won’t be affordable bread for your children and grandchildren if we continue to sell our resources to foreign investors and let gangsters sell them back to us for double the price. We must have complete accountability and complete transparency in order to save Russia. Our leaders must be first Russians, then fathers, then governors and mayors. They cannot have hidden agendas and secret fortunes in foreign banks. Their dachas must be next to ours. We must know them and in which schools their children study and from which shop they buy their meat and vegetables and if they drive a car how they paid for it. We do not call for hot actions but for clever thinkers to help us think our way out of this mess created by Yeltsin and Gaidar and the United States before it’s too late!”

The mood turned from low energy to electric in a crescendo that grew with each of Strelyenko’s two hundred and eighteen words, starting at the repeating of the word ‘brothers.’ Somehow this young professor, this young idealist had tapped into the popular mood, the common man’s frustration and released their imaginations for a better, a fairer, a safer Russia. The plenum had just been hijacked. Strelyenko brought the crowd to a fevered pitch as he continued.

“Why do we sit on our hands while our government sells our homes, shops and factories to the highest bidders? Who are they trying to please? Who are they taking care of? The western financiers or the home-grown criminals? Who, I ask you, who is ready to stand up and defend our mothers, wives and daughters from these profiteers? If this continues much longer we will have wished we had let the fascists win fifty years ago and kill us quickly, instead of being slowly enslaved by our own people who murder us one by one in the streets. Who has been arrested yet for the murder last week of Dmitri Bolshakov? No one! Why does the Prosecutor General still sit in the Kremlin? Brothers, we must hold our leaders accountable for the crimes they commit against us and against Russia!”

Sergey Nicholeivich, the newly elected party leader, was beside himself. This type of speech was not supposed to happen at his party rally. They were to be the guardians of policy, a united think-tank, the brains behind the governor, not on the front line of politics, taking names and holding politicians and gangsters accountable. Sergey Nicholaevich trembled with rage and fear in his chair as he stood to intervene in this unsanctioned turn of events. He shouted over the clamour of the party members and called the room to order. His voice quivered with emotion, but not the kind that motivates the masses.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” his follow up to Strelyenko’s appeal to his brothers neutralised whatever else followed, “this party was organised to bring academic quality into our political discussion and policy ch-ch-choices.” The chairman stuttered nervously as he slowly realised from the body language and faces of his party members that he had lost control of the rank and file. He looked from side to side looking for a friendly face in the audience.

“Vote, vote, vote!” a low chant from a chorus came from the front left of the room.

“Please! Ladies and Gentlemen, do not let your emotions carry you away from our plans,” the party chairman stammered feeling his hold on the reins was already lost, and was chiding them for their rash change of mind.

“Vote, vote, vote!” the chorus was growing.

Feeling he had no more choice, Sergey Nicholaevich gave a nod to Dean Karamzin to conduct a vote in his capacity as chairman of the meeting.

Above the low chatter and excitement, Karamzin’s voice boomed through the hall.

“All in favour of the adoption of the third article of the manifesto as recommended by the committee to the members of the LFPNN, say ‘aye.’”

The hall bloomed with a synchronised voice of contempt for the current system. There was no question that the majority was behind Strelyenko’s proposed manifesto.

“And all those against, please,” Karamzin boomed.

Only silence followed. I heard myself blink in the two seconds it took to count five contrary votes, one of which was Sergey Nicholaevich’s who meekly held his hand above his head.

The third article passed. Sergey Nicholvaevich sat sullen with his head in hands, the victim of his own ambitions as the newly formed LFPNN set itself on a collision course for the rocks against which many Russian reformers had been smashed to pieces: corruption and criminals.