Val Karren - The Deceit of Riches

It was becoming apparent to me that through some mishap of destiny that the different options I had for writing a thesis this term were narrowing and merging and the conclusions would be one and the same, regardless of the starting point; the only way that the national and regional governments could obtain the results that they had promised to the international money lenders who were keeping Russia from falling into a deeper economic pit, was that they would have to accept that elements of the corrupt shadow economy would need to be incorporated into the official economy, and the bosses of the crime syndicates would have to be given a seat at the table of government in exchange for providing the stashed cash to keep the home fires burning. Through some sick twist of fate, Russia had become a hostage to its criminal organizations and the price of liberation was granting legitimacy to their practices by adapting the laws of the country to help them preserve their ill gotten gains for posterity. Were the people properly informed of the decisions the President and the Duma were making in Moscow that had lead to this compromise of integrity? What led to it? How did it get so far?

“Del, I need some good advice before Monday morning,” I sighed.

“Well, you are probably in the wrong place for that. Hell, I think if we both had any good sense we would leave this place and head for the Bahamas or Puerto Vallarta and sell cold drinks on a beach for the rest of our lives,” Del said zipping up his sweater.

“Yes, that would be good advice!” I replied with no argument.

“What’s eating at you, kid?” he asked as he sat down.

“You know I am busy with research for a thesis, and that if it turns out to be worth its weight in paper, could be published in June in the university’s new periodical of economics and politics. My problem is this: the theme that grabs my interest and for which I am gathering incredible data and documentation for is the privatization process of state companies. The method, the system is really bad and the people are getting ripped off, hoodwinked and robbed. The national government, and I suppose the local governments to some extent, are not being transparent about it and are privatizing everything at a huge cost to the country purely for the sake of privatizing. It’s like the ideology has taken over rational thinking and they will drive at full speed over a cliff rather than hit the brakes and reevaluate the situation before more damage is done. It’s economic suicide what is happening right now,” I forwarded.

“Are you thinking of running for office?” Del asked mocking me.

“If only I could, eh? The problem is this, no matter from where I start this paper it is going to have the same ending. That ending will have to name the illegal activities of some local actors in order to prove that even the much-loved privatization process, yes, right here in ‘River City’, is also falling victim to the developments out of the shadow economy. It needs to be revised to prevent entrenching the mafia goons (borrowing your description by the way) and their families into quasi-legal positions which will be nearly impossible to dislodge. It’s critical now! Without a complete collapse of the economy — and I mean a complete collapse — or legal precedence being suspended to confiscate them of their assets, they will achieve complete legitimacy and continue to wield their corrupt influences!” I was really worked up.

“Who is the local fellow and what is he into?” Del asked curiously.

“Mr. P. I imagine he started in common thuggery years ago, but now I am pretty sure he is running protection rackets all over the city, pimping, drugs and other contraband without paying the taxes. I wouldn’t be surprised to find that he is importing with protection through big payoffs to inspectors to avoid customs duties because the laws are so that you can’t make a profit importing cars legally. Now he is branching out in retail outlets for home electronics — and this morning he bought Nizhniy’s best-placed grocery store, so I suppose he going into consumables now,” I explained.

“You seem to know a lot about him,” Del remarked.

“In just the last week he has become a wall in my research. Every way I turn I come up against him. He is certainly a force to reckon with in the city. I think he may be in business with the mayor, but I have no evidence of that,” I speculated.

“What makes you think that?” Del continued to ask short, clear questions.

“The mayor’s office is vouching for him. I think protecting him from audits and other scrutiny because he is a good citizen on some levels. He has money to make things in Nizhniy happen, the things that politicians usually get good press for,” I remarked.

“Has he moved into real estate do you know?” was Del’s only interest.

“I don’t know, but my clever Dean is somehow friends enough with him that he wants to arrange a full interview for me with him, so I can ask him about all his private ventures and learn how a modern businessman gets the job done in post-soviet Russia. I don’t know if I have the guts to go through with the interview and use it in my paper. I’d get my knees broken, that’s for sure!” I predicted.

Els interrupted to offer good advice: “Maybe you have a bit of common sense that is stopping you from doing it, instead of not having the guts. Maybe it’s your mother’s voice you are hearing in your head.”

Del brushed her off as over cautious, “Kid, remember, never get too deep into this place that you can’t walk away. Don’t let it matter so much that your good judgment gets overridden by your ego. That’s a recipe for disaster. Gotta be able to walk away.”

“So are you saying that I should do the interview…,” Del finished my sentence for me, “…and then yes, if it goes south, be ready to cut and run. Don’t wait around and hide and think you can just go back to life as normal after everybody calms down and moves on, because these types have a very long memory,” he cautioned.

“This is not how I saw things happening when I left home in January. I had really wanted to stay a few years and make myself a good start here, not blow the ceiling off the place and have to high-tail it out of here burning the bridges as I go. I had really hoped to stick around and watch things change, be a neutral observer of sorts, not get involved up to my neck and then… cut and run,” I moaned.

Els tried to bring some perspective to the discussion again, “Peter, just drop the project. There is nothing that says you need to publish in this magazine. Don’t let the Dean push you into a corner, a potentially deadly corner. I’m sure there is plenty you could write about without the Dean taking advantage of you. Have you asked yourself why your Dean would want so badly for you to go forward? What does he have to gain from it? Where are his interests? I know Del has said this to you before, but remember that everybody in Russia these days has a shadow life, the darkness of which can really surprise even spouses. So, what does the Dean have to gain?”

“I haven’t looked into that at all, honestly. I figured the Dean is an academic and is looking for the truth like me,” I guessed.

“Not everybody is as sincere and altruistic as you are being in this situation. Everybody has something they’re hiding. Don’t be misled into a situation that can have serious consequences for yourself while somebody else exploits your misfortune for their gain,” Els warned again.

With the bowls empty and the bread consumed, Els began clearing the table. On that cue Del invited me into the living room with something special to discuss with me. We sat facing each other in the swivel chairs, a coffee table between each other.