Washington
Post - 09.18.2001
Washington
Post
A Communist Comeback in Russia
As
Living Conditions Fail to Improve, 'Red Governors' Return to Power
By Susan
B. Glasser
NIZHNY NOVGOROD, Russia -- The leaflets were meant to scare. "Stock
up," they warned, on matches, soap and other daily necessities. The
shortages would soon be back if Gennady Khodyrev, the last Communist
boss of this big city on the Volga River, returned to power.
Another
attack recalled the city as it was until 1991, the last year of the
Soviet Union and of Khodyrev's rule, a place closed off to foreigners,
named Gorky after a Communist-favored author, and famous mostly as the
place of exile for Soviet dissident Andrei Sakharov. Said the leaflet:
"The color: gray. The city: Gorky. Do we want it again?"
Apparently
the answer was yes. Khodyrev, reinvented now as a kinder, gentler
Communist -- "a totally modern person," as he put it in an
interview -- was elected in July as governor of the region he used to
lead. What made his victory all the more remarkable was that it came in
a heavily industrial area of Russia once considered the capital of
Western-style economic reforms, a place about 250 miles east of Moscow
where Communists until recently couldn't even hope to win back power.
A growing
number of regions across Russia that decisively rebuffed Communist
candidates in the early years after the fall of the Soviet Union have
come to embrace them again, part of what political analysts call an
increasing protest against the failure of Russian capitalism to bring
better living conditions to the regions outside of Moscow. With the
Nizhny Novgorod election, "red governors" now control
executive power in 35 of Russia's 89 regions.
"My
opponents were saying the gulags will return and investment will stop
coming if he is elected governor," Khodyrev said with a knowing
chuckle, sitting in the same office in this city's Kremlin that he was
kicked out of 10 years ago. But, he added: "There's nothing
frightening here. It's not going backward; it's just a difficult step
ahead."
Four
years ago, Khodyrev ran for governor against the same opponent and
received just 42 percent of the vote. This time, he beat him with 60
percent of the vote. He carried not just the countryside but even the
regional capital, which in 10 years of democracy had never voted for a
Communist.
"The
meaning of this victory for the Communist Party cannot be overestimated.
The results here show a change in Russia over the last few years;
Communists are beginning to win in those regions where in the past they
couldn't even dream of winning," said Vladislav Yegorov, a
secretary of the Nizhny Novgorod regional branch of the party.
This
Communist regional restoration comes at a moment when the party's power
has waned significantly at the national level. During Boris Yeltsin's
presidency, Communists were able to effectively control the parliament
and block his initiatives. But now, President Vladimir Putin routinely
prevails in the State Duma, the lower house of parliament, with little
more than ritual protest from the Communists, who remain the largest
single voting bloc with 24 percent of the seats but who seem content
with a power-sharing deal that has given them the speakership and some
committee chairs.
Outside
of Moscow, however, the return of Soviet-era party bosses like Khodyrev
shows that the party still plays a significant role in Putin-era
politics, at a time when limited choices and negative campaigns can
produce seemingly implausible results. Even a president with a 70
percent approval rating can be powerless to sway the outcome of local
elections. In Nizhny Novgorod, the incumbent governor defeated by
Khodyrev was from Putin's party and the president's handpicked envoy in
the region openly campaigned for him.
"In
Russia, we have a saying: 'good czar, bad subjects.' This explains why
the attitude toward Putin remains high at the same time that the protest
vote against his policies is growing in the regions," said Lev
Gudkov, director of political polling at the All-Russian Center for
Public Opinion.
These
successes come at a time when the Communist Party is still in the throes
of a 10-year identity crisis, trying to find a future for a party whose
main adherents are older, poorer and less educated than Russia's
electorate as a whole. In response, the party is marketing itself with a
decidedly non-ideological appeal. Today's winning candidates cast
themselves as pragmatists who say they are the only politicians with the
experience to run the regions.
"Over
the last year in Nizhny Novgorod and other places with gubernatorial
elections, Communists did well not only with their usual electorate of
older voters but also with middle-aged people and those with a higher
level of education," Gudkov said. "They were supporting these
candidates not because they are Communists but because they are
perceived to be pragmatists."
The
numbers, too, suggest that the Communists are doing slightly better than
just holding on to their base. Last month, they came within two
percentage points of ousting an incumbent governor in the Siberian
region of Irkutsk, another perceived bastion of economic reforms. In the
Ivanov region, northeast of Moscow, a Communist elected eight months ago
brags about higher wages and paying off energy debts. Oleg Kulikov, the
national party's number two leader, said new enrollments are up 10
percent this year and that the party has 550,000 members.
"We
want to be known as a party of the future and not as a party of the
past," said Kulikov. "They are always trying to pull us back
to the past. But we are a democratic party now that represents a broad
spectrum of the population; we understand that it's not possible to go
back." At the same time, Kulikov expressed his support for
restoring Volgograd's Soviet-era name, Stalingrad, after Soviet dictator
Joseph Stalin, a pet project of Communists at the moment, and praised
Putin for restoring "our traditional close ties" with
communist Cuba and North Korea.
And while
Kulikov expended much time explaining the party's commitment to freedom
of speech and other democratic rights -- "We are more democratic
today than the so-called democrats," he said -- the political issue
that tops the Communists' fall agenda is fighting a Putin-backed land
code that will allow the sale of non-agricultural land for the first
time in seven decades.
"We
Communists have learned from our past defeats," Kulikov argued.
That is
certainly the case in Nizhny Novgorod, where Khodyrev's political career
appeared as dead as the Soviet system when Yeltsin sacked him in 1991
and installed a then-unknown young reformer, Boris Nemtsov, in his
place. Today, Nemtsov is one of Russia's best-known politicians, having
vaulted to national prominence as Nizhny's whiz-kid governor.
But while
Nemtsov's career has prospered, the region he left behind has not. Once
third in the country in foreign investment behind Moscow and St.
Petersburg, Nizhny Novgorod is now 13th. Wages here are now below the
national average, putting the region 51st out of Russia's 89. Although
it was a laboratory for early experiments in small-business
privatization and individual land ownership, the heavily populated
region of more than 4 million people never really took on the problem of
how to convert its many defense factories to civilian use. Tens of
thousands of jobs were lost and not replaced.
"Everyone
is perfectly aware that we have failed to become the third capital of
Russia, that there's a contrast between the reality of the living
standards here and our dreams," said Alexei Likhachev, a regional
leader of Nemtsov's reformist political party, the Union of Right
Forces. "In the last few years, we have lost ground."
Others
put it more starkly. "Nizhny Novgorod was really hyped as a capital
of reform, while things remained here as they had been before,"
said local columnist Vladimir Yunov. "That's why Khodyrev won --
dissatisfaction with the standard of living here."
But even
when his opportunity for a comeback came, it was still a surprise when
Khodyrev seized it. A Communist member of parliament, Khodyrev was
dismissed as an also-ran when the gubernatorial campaign began this
year. But during a nasty race that focused alternately on a popular
businessman's two criminal convictions and incumbent governor Ivan
Sklyarov's shortcomings, Khodyrev managed to emerge untainted. In a
first round marked by a low turnout, he came in first with 24 percent.
And despite efforts to scare voters in the second round with the specter
of a Soviet restoration, Khodyrev took 60 percent to Sklyarov's 28
percent.
Right
after the election, Khodyrev "suspended" his membership in the
party, saying he wanted to serve as a "uniting governor," but
didn't disavow the Communist platform or his own adherence to the
party's program. As he put it, "What a person has in his heart
doesn't change." At various points in an interview, he referred to
himself as "a rank-and-file member of the party" and talked
about "our party."
But he
was also at pains to represent himself as a different kind of Communist.
"Perhaps you are not familiar with the platform of our party -- we
are cognizant of market relations, we accept all forms of
ownership," he said. He also swore allegiance to Putin, saying that
the president's emphasis on "stability" was as important as
specifics of his economic program and praising him for "slowly
correcting Yeltsin's mistakes."
But for
those looking for early hints about what kind of governor Khodyrev will
be, the appointment of another former Communist leader as his top aide
gave a significant hint. Vladimir Kiriyenko, who was in charge of the
regional economy when the Soviet Union collapsed, ran Khodyrev's
comeback campaign and said he won because of "ill-considered
policies of the last ten years that impoverished the population."
But neither of them was willing to spell out in any detail what their
new administration would entail, beyond pledges of "social
justice," generic support for Putin's program and an insistence
that they will not impose the state-run economy of the Soviet past.
Today's
Communists, Kiriyenko said, are the only politicians with the experience
to fix those problems. "I haven't changed my political convictions,
and I'm not ashamed of this," said Kiriyenko, who unlike his boss
has not suspended his party membership.
"Don't
be afraid of Communists," he said at the close of an interview in
his newly claimed office. "We're normal people."