During Mr Khodorkovsky's first night in a crowded Moscow
remand jail, the
first blizzards battered the capital: winter had set in.
His arrest at gunpoint on a Siberian runway marked a turning point in
President Vladimir Putin's administration.
Analysts had hoped the three-month-long pursuit of the Yukos oil giant
was
merely a pre-electoral scare to remind big businessmen to stay out of
December and March's parliamentary and presidential votes. Yesterday,
it
became clear that President Putin's era of liberal reforms was almost
certainly over.
After he succeeded Boris Yeltsin in 2000, a deal was struck with the
"oligarchs". Stay out of politics, and we stay out of your businesses.
Most
did, with the notable exception of Mr Khodorkovsky. He financed Mr Putin's
opponents, and said he would like to leave business and perhaps join
politics in 2008, when Mr Putin will have to either anoint a successor,
or
change the constitution to permit his third term.
Yet as police and prosecutors kicked down the doors of Yukos offices,
and
even nurseries and political parties it funded, many felt the Kremlin
was
merely flexing its muscles. A month ago, western businessmen would scoff
at
the idea of such an international figure as Mr Khodorkovsky being thrown
into a crowded cell. "Mr Putin has unleashed his dogs," said
Liliya
Shevtsova, senior associate of the Carnegie Endowment. "There will
now be a
state of permanent war between the main clans of Russia."
At the centre of the conflict is a duel between two factions inside
the
Kremlin. The siloviki , or hawks, are trying to vanquish the remaining
elements of the Yeltsin regime, known as the Family. These include the
prime minister, Mikhail Kasyanov, and Mr Putin's chief of staff, Alexander
Voloshin, who represent a more business-friendly side of government. Both
are mired in rumours of their imminent dismissal.
The hawks are Mr Putin's personal appointees - the former KGB officers
Igor
Sechin and Viktor Ivanov. They pursue the unchallenged power they think
necessary to make Russia great again.
"They would not have gone after Khodorkovsky without presidential
blessing," said Ms Shevtsova. "The question is, to what extent
does the
affair now have a life of its own, or can Mr Putin stop it? My hunch is
that he cannot, because saying 'stop' will be seen by his people, and
the
Russian electorate, as a sign of weakness."
The attitudes of ordinary people to Mr Khodorkovsky reflect the
contradiction of both contempt and respect they have for oligarchs. Most
see them as "thieves" who enriched themselves at the expense
of the
motherland. Many would relish the realisation of the ever-present Kremlin
threat to "revisit" the 1990s privatisations, returning the
assets to state
control. Alternatively, Mr Khodorkovsky was an acceptable face of this
elite. Yukos was a transparently run market leader, on the brink of
attracting the largest foreign investment ever if ExxonMobil bought a
40%
stake in it for Dollars 25bn, as rumoured. Mr Khodorkovsky funded social
programmes of his own making while backing market reforms and democratic
openness.
Now he is out of the way, and criticism in Russia is muted, the oligarchs
limit themselves to beseeching Mr Putin to intervene. Alexander
Shishlov, a senior member of the Yabloko party that Mr Khodorkovsky
funds, said: "This arrest smacked of a political order. What happens
next depends on the reaction of business leaders and political parties."
Others are less optimistic. Ms Shevtsova added: "Everybody expects
(Putin) to step in and do something. But he is hiding. We used to ask
ourselves 'who is Putin?' Now we ask 'where is Putin?'" The answer
is simple: he is in the Kremlin, where he intends to stay.
See also:
YUKOS
Case
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