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By VADIM NIKITIN
He was the original oligarch, dubbed the godfather of the Kremlin by the
late journalist Paul Klebnikov. But by the time Boris Berezovsky’s
lifeless body was dragged out of his bathtub on Saturday, the
67-year-old was a broken man who had stopped seeing friends and rarely
ventured outside. The day before his death, he told a Forbes reporter
that he had lost the will to live.
Whether he took his own life or died of heart failure — it is not yet
known — Berezovsky was destroyed by the Russia he almost single-handedly
created. While he bitterly hated the current regime, it was Berezovsky
who first pioneered the country’s crony capitalism, masterminded its
first managed elections, blurred the line between the media and the
government, and even helped install Vladimir Putin into the presidency.
But, like Marx’s bourgeoisie, Berezovsky had above all produced his own
gravediggers. They were Putin, who went on to crush him politically, and
fellow oligarch Roman Abramovich, who felled his erstwhile mentor with a
financial coup de grâce.
Through cunning, ruthlessness and insider connections, Berezovsky built
an automobile and media empire before installing himself in the Kremlin
as President Boris Yeltsin’s éminence grise. Over the course of his rise
to power and untold wealth, the diminutive mathematician and onetime
member of the Russian Academy of Sciences helped form the two key
institutions that have defined modern Russia and, arguably, continue to
hold it back.
hold it back.
Firstly, despite deftly positioning himself in exile as a crusader for
democracy, it was Berezovsky’s organization of Yeltsin’s and Putin’s
electoral campaigns that set the precedent for the Kremlin’s current
template of media and political manipulation.
On the eve of the 1996 vote, when a beleaguered Yeltsin faced a
resurgent Communist opponent, he offered the oligarchs, including
Berezovsky, a deal. The quid pro quo involved promises of lucrative
stakes in state-owned companies in exchange for their support.
Berezovsky, who had earlier persuaded Yeltsin to sell him a controlling
stake in the main national broadcaster, obliged the incumbent with a
nonstop barrage of positive propaganda while totally sidelining his
opponent. A year into Yeltsin’s miraculous re-election, he was rewarded
with the keys to Aeroflot.
Three years later, Berezovsky masterminded the creation of the Unity
party as a vehicle for Putin, whom Yeltsin had named his successor in
August 1999. During the parliamentary elections in December of that
year, Berezovsky used the flagship channel to violently discredit
Putin’s opponents, Yevgeny Primakov and
Moscow mayor Yuri Luzhkov.
Unity, which won almost double the votes of Primakov’s Fatherland party,
later became known as United Russia.
Secondly, despite painting himself as a free marketer, Berezovsky was an
architect of Russia’s current opaque symbiosis between big business and
state patronage. He amassed his businesses through personal
relationships, taking advantage of unclear laws, and government
collusion. His largest assets — from Aeroflot to the Sibneft oil company
— were acquired either through loans for shares or his close personal
ties with the Yeltsin family. The country’s current elites — from Roman
Abramovich to Mikhail Prokhorov — have continued to follow his example.
Both invest the financial resources they amassed with the Kremlin’s help
to repay the government with loyalty and political service. Like
Berezovsky, Abramovich once served in the government. And just as
Berezovsky had helped set up Unity to siphon off the nationalist vote
from Putin’s opponents, Prokhorov is arguably doing something similar
for the liberals with his Right Cause party.
Despite having helped established these rules, Berezovsky eventually
found himself outflanked by the very people he trusted. Hoping to have
found in Putin a president who would protect his oligarchic clique
against threats from the statists, Berezovsky instead saw his own
holdings quickly renationalized. Later, his onetime business partners
and protégé Abramovich also turned on him. Trying to recoup money
allegedly promised him from a previous venture, Berezovsky was rendered
financially ruined last autumn after losing a £3 billion lawsuit in
London.
“Berezovsky’s death spells the end of the ’90s,” declared an article in the liberal online newspaper Gazeta.ru.
But his downfall has proven that the rules he laid out still hold in
Russia today: The economy continues to be dominated by corrupt
oligarchs, power begets money, and those who lose the president’s ear
soon lose everything else.
Vadim Nikitin is a freelance journalist and blogger based in London. This article was distributed by Agence Global.
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