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  The Anointed One: Tracking the Rise of Putin's Crown Prince

The Anointed One Tracking the Rise of Putin's Crown Prince

Part 4: 'No One Should Confuse his Politeness with Weakness'

Those who have long held the reins of power in Moscow have built vacation homes on Lake Komsomolzen near the Finnish border, 730 kilometers (454 miles) northwest of Moscow's "Golden Keys." The road that leads through birch and pine forests to Ozero, a community of dachas, is known as Putinka.

A barrier blocks access to the shore of the lake where Vladimir Putin built his weekend house in the 1990s, and German shepherds roaming free scare away anyone who isn't authorized to be there. Otherwise, the place is quiet, at least on weekdays. The founders of the cooperative include the director of the Russian railway system, the general director of its nuclear trading group, the chairman of the board of directors of Bank Rossiya, Russia's education minister and his brother, the head of Gazprom subsidiary Lentransgas.

The way the core elements of "Kremlin Inc." stick together in their isolation on a few thousand square meters of property, as if they couldn't even bear the thought of being apart in their free time, seems oddly innocent. But it is consistent with an X-ray image of a system created by Putin, and of which Medvedev is a part.

The spirit of Lake Komsomolzen corresponds to the sense that Putin's state is essentially an old boy's club that enjoys the comforting feeling that this small group is capable of controlling many things, including giant businesses, banks, football clubs and pipeline deals.

While members of the Kremlin administration suggest that the short-statured Medvedev (he is 1.65 meters, or 5'5", tall) is certainly capable of emerging from the shadow of his teacher, Putin, "in one to two years," most political observers believe that rapid changes are unlikely. According to Valeriy Fadeyev, editor-in-chief of the magazine Expert, "social tensions" are growing in the country, and its new president will "not have an easy start of it."

High inflation calls for deregulation of markets. But in the debate over a proposed law on foreign investments, Kremlin hawks are pushing to ban foreign majority shareholders from additional sectors of the industry. Anatoly Chubais, a figurehead of the economic liberals, warns against even more isolation. "How much," he asks, "is Russia's confrontational foreign policy costing us?"

More has happened under Putin than merely a re-nationalization of key industries. The Russian president took his country down a new path in diplomacy, one that involves resistance to Kosovo's independence, a balancing act on the Iranian nuclear program, ongoing conflicts with former Soviet brother nations and vocal objections to US plans to build a missile defense system in Poland and the Czech Republic.

All of this could now be put to the test. No one knows what Medvedev has planned.

This reticence is also a reflection of the caution of those who attempted, until the last minute, to block his path to become Putin's successor, and who are now prepared to do whatever it takes to harm him -- the close-lipped, Byzantine men's club in the Kremlin led by former KGB officer Igor Sechin.

The group is presumed to be the source of stories dealing with Medvedev's past as a businessman that are now being disseminated on the Internet, as well as of the rumors that David Aaronovich Mendel, the son of Jewish parents Aaron and Zilya Mendel, changed his name to Dmitry Medvedev for career reasons -- an outgrowth of the anti-Semitism that is so ubiquitous in Russia. But if the "Siloviki" truly had as much influence at the Kremlin many believe they still have, Medvedev would probably never have even become a candidate for the country's highest office.

And he would probably never have given the fiery speech he gave on Feb. 15 in the Siberian city of Krasnoyarsk, where he told his audience that it was time to finally put an end to "right-wing nihilism" in Russia, that the country needs an independent judiciary and better conditions of detention and that high-ranking government officials ought to resign their positions as company board members.

It sounded like the voluntary self-exposure of a secret dissident in the innermost circle of power, prompting many to wonder whether Medvedev means what he says. Could it be that this is a man who plans to achieve the things he believed were impossible in his lesser position, once he rises to the pinnacle of government?

Is he a czarevich who dreams of sticking it to the old czar? Putin doesn't seem to think so, calling him the right man to "continue" the current policies. As prime minister, Putin will serve as a certain guarantee of continuity, shaping the budget, setting the country's economic course abroad and guaranteeing its ability to defend itself.

For Medvedev -- the man the West is welcoming, both joyously and prematurely, as Putin's successor and as a potential ally, because of his liberal and pro-market views -- this would mean that he is nothing but an attention-getter in the display window of democracy.

The Kremlin strategists have carefully cultivated this image of Medvedev as a "Westerner," hoping to send a signal to foreign political and business elites. This image allows the candidate to increasingly distance himself from Putin's street urchin slang by choosing his words carefully.

"No one should confuse his politeness with weakness," says Gazprom board member Burckhard Bergmann, who has known Medvedev for a long time. During the unofficial preliminary competition Medvedev, with his quiet and stiffly authoritative manner, distinguished himself from his macho competitor, Deputy Prime Minister Sergei Ivanov. He flew diligently around the country, kissing babies, petting cows and telegenically frying eggs in the wooden houses of poor farming families. He eventually emerged as the frontrunner.

He now comes across as significantly thinner, more dynamic and more self-confident. But one thing he still lacks is Putin's facial expressions, those of a man who is constantly poised to attack. Medvedev, a career bureaucrat, still seems like a man who is following his path to the top because of an official order, and not because of destiny.

Two things remain unclear in Russia's future power structure. One is the question of who will be leaning back in his chair at the small wooden table in the office of the president, and who will be sitting up straight to deliver his reports on television. The second is the question of what to do about the presidential portrait.

Will Putin, as prime minister, keep a photograph of the new Kremlin boss hanging in his office, as is customary? Popular wisdom has it that he will, but under one condition: "The picture will have to show Medvedev standing in front of a portrait of Putin on the wall."

UWE KLUSSMANN, WALTER MAYR, CHRISTIAN NEEF, MATTHIAS SCHEPP

Translated from the German by Christopher Sultan.