Russian Leader's Overtures Elicit Wary Responses
By Daniel Williams
Washington Post Foreign
Service
MOSCOW -- The other day, President Vladimir Putin sat at the head of
a vast gathering of civic organizations in what at first glance might
have seemed a display of national unity.
Normally, the Russian national anthem would have kicked off such a
meeting. But the assembly at the cavernous Kremlin Palace of Congresses
opened without it.
The reason: Many organization heads, some of whom were Soviet-era
dissidents, objected to the tune, which was the hymn of the Soviet
Union.
Thus began the delicate courtship between Putin and Russia's growing
array of independent civic action groups, organizations that work on
human rights, health, labor, small business, child rights, anti-draft,
housing, ecological and a host of other issues.
The Nov. 21-22 meeting of a group called the Civic Forum reflected
the Kremlin's tardy recognition that "civil society" is a
growing force in Russia. Hundreds of groups represent the needs of
hundreds of thousands of citizens who have been left adrift by Russia's
lumbering, inattentive bureaucracy. Civil society first put down roots
during the perestroika era in the 1980s and grew quietly but steadily
during the years of neglect under the first post-Soviet president, Boris
Yeltsin.
The activists marched into the unprecedented gathering full of
doubts. A big question dogged their Kremlin debut: Is Putin, with his
authoritarian reputation, simply out to dominate this force?
Opposition politicians and independent observers warned of a trap.
Grigory Yavlinsky, who heads the social democratic Yabloko party,
attacked the gathering as a "purely image-making activity" for
Putin.
Civic leaders wondered whether Putin was just trying to burnish his
image, now that he is an ally in the West's anti-terrorism war.
"We didn't want to be part of a show, and we don't want to be
under the Kremlin's control," said Alexander Auzen, head of the
Consumers Federation. "On the other hand, it's good to have a
dialogue. Many problems have to be solved in conjunction with the
government, so it is useless to stay outside."
"For years, we have been sending letters to officials, Soviet
and after the collapse of the Soviet Union, calling for dialogue. It was
hard to say no the first time the authorities invited us for a
talk," said Arseny Roginsky, director of the Moscow branch of
Memorial, the human rights organization.
The gathering was remarkable for the variety of non-governmental
organizations on hand. Besides well-known consumer, environmental,
housing and human rights groups, there were delegates from Boy Scout
groups, ethnic communities, treatment agencies for alcohol abuse, chess
players, athletes and even a representative of "the International
Monarchical Court" on behalf of someone named Prince
Bugayev-Ponyatovsky. In all, 5,000 delegates crowded into the hall for
the first day.
Putin kicked off the affair with a speech extolling the need for a
"dialogue of equals." He took pains to assure the delegates
that the Kremlin was not trying to co-opt them. "Civil society
should evolve independently, feeding on the spirit of freedom."
Delegates were nevertheless mindful that Putin, upon taking power
almost two years ago, proclaimed the need for establishing
"vertical power," with himself at the top. Since then, he has
taken the popular steps of curbing the influence of big business in
government. But he has also cowed the mainstream media and the only
independent television network faces extinction at the hands of a
Kremlin-connected shareholder.
Prosecutors have pursued journalists who have uncovered military
misdeeds and hindered access to Chechnya, where Putin's government has
waged an inconclusive, two-year war. Putin appointed unelected
commissars to oversee Russia's governors and reduced the legislative
clout of the Federation Council, Russia's upper house of parliament.
As Putin sat on the dais listening to 90 minutes of speeches,
petitions from the audience piled up on his desk. Some appealed for
dismissal of corrupt state workers; others included requests to have
pictures taken with the president. Putin pledged to "reply to
everyone."
Civic leaders insisted that no votes on any declarations be taken,
nor should any permanent council be formed under the Kremlin.
They also made sure that the bulk of the event was dedicated to small
meetings between delegates and government ministers. In short, they
wanted to avoid the appearance of a Soviet-style "people's"
congress in which delegates paid homage to, and rubber-stamped,
authorities' proposals.
Organizers on the Kremlin's behalf said Putin would still like to
establish a permanent council as a liaison between civic organizations
and the government.
This is just the kind of thing the delegates to the forum were dead
set against. Putin deleted a part of his speech suggesting such a
council, said Gleb Pavlovsky, a public relations operative who works
closely with the Kremlin. Pavlovsky was one of the main promoters of the
Civic Forum on the president's behalf.
"Suspicions stand in the way of this proposal," he said.
"But these suspicions are inertial, from the past. They will
fade."