• English Site
• > World

Putin and 'United Russia'

Portrait of a Reluctant Democracy

By Uwe Klussmann, Walter Mayr and Matthias Schepp

Part 5: BEDIME: A Record on the Arctic Circle

For a brief moment in history, the Yakutian village of Bedime was famous. "Three hundred residents decided unanimously to join the United Russia Party," newspapers from the wilds of Siberia reported last June. Correspondents in Moscow promptly reported to the rest of the world that a "new political record" had been set in the wild eastern region of Yakutia, up near the Arctic Circle, when "an entire village joined the party at the same time."

The only problem was that no one had checked their facts. Bedime citizens were outraged. There are still card-carrying Communists living in the wooden houses of this tiny (600-strong) village, as well as a smattering of liberals and other deviants.

The village supervisor of Bedime, Nikifor Afonski, is a stocky man with thinning hair and the good-natured face of many Yakuts. He slurps his bowl of soup in the school cafeteria in his village and explains what really happened.

A member of the managing board of United Russia in the regional capital Yakutsk did indeed call him one day to ask about a visit to Bedime. Afonski was happy to oblige.

It is also true, he adds, that not a single chair was empty in the village clubhouse, Bedime's only public meeting place, on the evening in question. The residents had turned up to ask the man questions, says Afonski, for example about a gas line which comes to an abrupt end in the taiga only 38 kilometers (24 miles) shy of Bedime. After promising to return with answers, the official left behind hundreds of application forms for membership in United Russia.

Three weeks later the man returned with 136 carefully filled-out membership forms. There were not 300 new members, Afonski says. A total of 45 percent, not 100 percent, of Bedime's voting population had decided to join the pro-Kremlin party. Still, it was a respectable showing for United Russia.

The residents of Bedime, a poor community with an average of one horse and two cattle per capita, had reviewed their decision carefully. After much thought, they concluded that the village needed improvement. Bedime lacks natural gas and hot water in the winter, and its residents struggle to survive on dairy farming and odd jobs.

If the ruling party learned about their plight, the people of Bedime figured, there might be an end to chopping wood three times a day and laboriously dragging in blocks of natural ice to serve as drinking water, not to mention fishing for carp on a frozen lake at temperatures that can plunge to -56 degrees Celsius (-69 degrees Fahrenheit) by the end of January.

This line of reasoning explains why United Russia's sign now graces the wall of the village clubhouse, and why its flag is kept at the local school. No one in Bedime cares about the talk of a return to the one-party system, according to the school's principal, who adds, "Things weren't so bad in the Soviet Union, either."

To villagers in Bedime and other parts of Yakutia, the arm of the country's most powerful party looks long enough to provide for the needs of people in such icy, remote corners of Russia.

'No One Expects Things to Get Better'

Yakutia is eight and a half times the size of Germany, but home to less than 1 million people. More than any other part of Russia, the region is living proof of the lunatic attempts by Soviet leaders to bring civilization to nomads living in a land that straddles the Arctic Circle. The government had forced children of reindeer herders to attend school, and brought consumer goods to residents by water, over land and by air.

Today, a driver seeking to make the round trip passage across the Lena River to reach Bedime must shell out €200 for the ferry -- half a month's wages in the region. The costs of gasoline and food are approaching those of Western Europe. Yakutians are angry at the state for taking their diamonds, gold and natural gas, instead of providing for them as it did in the past. They tend to be attracted to politicians who come loaded with the most campaign promises.

All it takes for a politician to succeed in the region, says Vitaly Obyedin, a journalist in Yakutsk, is to reassure residents "that things will not get worse. No one actually expects things to get better." Officials at the local headquarters of the liberal, pro-business SPS party in Yakutsk say that little has changed here since the Soviet days, when compliant citizens were all too willing to yield to the demands of the state. "The genetic memory is stronger than we are," he says. "The minute the wind picks up, we're quick to pull out the old flags."

Representatives of United Russia do not take part in pre-election podium discussions in Yakutia. The message, clearly, is that grassroots democracy is for losers or people with too much time on their hands. But when a new school is built, a retirement home dedicated, or a playground opened, the leaders of United Russia are quick to disseminate propaganda material and use the compliant press to create an impression reminiscent of Soviet times -- that the funds came straight from party coffers, rather than the state. And that the party can expect gratitude in return.

"We must deliver the best election results in all of Russia," declares retired police colonel D. Mikhail Yeverstov, the head of United Russia's Yakutian operation, "so the money doesn't go to the Bashkirs or the Tatars."

People in Bedime have understood this message. Four agitators for United Russia now work the village, armed with lists of residents who have joined -- or declined to join -- the party. "I would like to see the rest of our residents join now," says Nikifor Afonski, the village supervisor, "but voluntarily, and completely democratically."

Another United Russia party official, attending a Friday evening concert at the village clubhouse, steps up to the microphone to deliver good news. Five nearby villages have joined the party "unanimously," he says. A stack of freshly minted party membership cards will arrive in next week's mail.

"Baryta eidener?" he says. "Kersekhe diery."

Meaning, in Yakutian: "You got it? Goodbye."