Russia: Survival of the Fittest

When Boris Yeltsin was baptized, a tipsy priest dropped the baby in the font and left him there, struggling for air, until his terrified parents persuaded the priest to fish him out. The priest was not fazed, Yeltsin recalled in his autobiography. "The boy's a fighter [borets in Russian]," he said. "We'll call him Boris." Yeltsin is still a fighter, and still has luck on his side, as the collapse of an attempt to impeach him last weekend shows. He also has cunning, and a formidable state patronage system that works for him, as well as a constitution that he had made to measure. But his vision these days is not of a Russian renaissance. Instead, he is a man obsessed with simple survival. As a frustrated member of parliament, Vladimir Semago, said after Saturday's impeachment vote, "He's like a bear protecting his lair--he's defending himself and his family."

Yeltsin's fate and that of Russia have in some ways come to resemble each other. Seven years ago, Russians pinned hopes for a peaceful, prosperous future on Yeltsin. As his turbulent and sometimes bloody presidency draws to a close, both the President and his people are sunk in depression, their dreams in tatters. Millions live on the poverty line. The country has neither the confidence of investors abroad nor self-confidence at home. Life is a struggle, and there seems little prospect it will improve soon.

Last week even Yeltsin seemed to have taken on too much in the war with his old enemies in the Duma, Russia's lower parliamentary body. The day before impeachment discussions opened, Yeltsin fired his popular Prime Minister, Yevgeni Primakov. Primakov was officially dismissed because of the President's concern about the slow pace of economic change. In fact he was dropped because he broke all the rules in his relations with Yeltsin. He was independent, he answered back, he even interrupted the President in public. This smacked of disloyalty. And in the twilight of his career, Yeltsin values loyalty above everything else.

The communist-dominated opposition in the Duma was infuriated by Primakov's dismissal--he enjoyed good relations with the communists--but was certain that it would guarantee the 300 votes needed to impeach Yeltsin on at least one of the five counts leveled against him. The motion with the best chance of success accused Yeltsin of starting a violent civil war in the breakaway Russian province of Chechnya in 1994. But once again Yeltsin thwarted his opponents. Last Saturday one-third of the Duma failed to turn up for the most important vote in their careers. Opposition deputies claimed, without offering evidence, that the Kremlin had offered members $30,000 each to stay away.

Most peculiarly, firebrand nationalist Vladimir Zhirinovsky and his faction--who usually denounce the President in flamboyant and colorful terms--suddenly became passionate supporters of the government. Zhirinovsky denied that he had been bought off but made it clear he would like a high post in the next government. From the background, Yeltsin aides put out the word that the Duma could be dissolved and a state of emergency declared if the vote went against him. When the results were announced, Chechnya gained the highest number of votes in favor of impeachment, 283--still 17 short of the two-thirds needed.