Mr. Bush pledged two years ago to "graduate" Russia from the 1974 trade restriction. His failure to deliver on the promise has become a source of humiliation and irritation to Mr. Putin and his senior aides, and it is certain to be a major issue in this week's meetings. To some Russians, it is becoming a test of Mr. Bush's true view of the importance of U.S.-Russia relations.

"This whole history of Jackson-Vanik is already so laughable, it's legendary," Vladimir Lukin, deputy speaker of Russia's lower house of Parliament, said in an interview last week. "It leaves the impression that Congress is either sleeping and only waking up when it needs to help the president conduct some military action, or that it is [under the influence] of some strange, narrow-minded lobbyists who don't understand modern realities."

There has been a flood of Jewish emigration since the 1989 fall of the Berlin Wall, and the annual certification under Jackson-Vanik that Russian Jews are being allowed free travel has become automatic. But the law's continued existence complicates Russia's efforts to enter the World Trade Organization, and Congress so far has kept it in place, using it as leverage in trade disputes.

The Russians don't understand why a popular president can't simply insist that a Congress controlled by his own party free them from Jackson-Vanik. But inattention to the issue by the White House and tough trade tactics by Russia have allowed the law to become entangled in a series of trade issues, including a chicken-parts fight, a pending fertilizer dispute and differences that arose as a result of Russia's stance before the Iraq war.

As a result, Mr. Putin's emancipation from Jackson-Vanik now may depend less on Mr. Bush's clout on Capitol Hill than on the outcome of an unusual chicken-plant inspection regime now under way, led by Russian veterinarians in the Shenandoah Valley and elsewhere.

Mr. Putin says it is unfair to tie a Soviet-era human-rights law to Moscow's efforts to expand trade. But members of Congress -- and industry lobbyists -- are bent on using any lever on hand. "We believe our government needs to use each and every advantage available to them," says Bill Roenigk, vice president of the National Chicken Council. "If you give up a leverage point when you have an issue that needs to be resolved, that's a missed opportunity."

In 1972, after Moscow imposed a tax on Jewish citizens traveling outside the country, concerned American activists sought a permanent way to express U.S. objections. They found it after the groundbreaking 1972 trade deal the Nixon White House negotiated with the Soviet Union. Washington Sen. Henry "Scoop" Jackson and Ohio Rep. Charles Vanik's amendment required that all "nonmarket" nations -- which meant most of the communist states -- provide evidence each year that they allowed Jews to travel freely, in exchange for winning normal trade-nation status. In 1975, an angry Moscow voided the trade pact because of the provision.

Even so, Jewish emigration began to rise. In 1979 there was talk of "graduating" the Soviets from the annual certification. Then, as now, other events ended talks.

When the Berlin Wall fell, Jewish emigration exploded, and in 1996 President Clinton permanently granted the new Russia a waiver from Jackson-Vanik, but the law was still in place. In Mr. Bush's first meeting with Mr. Putin, in an elegant hotel in Slovenia, Mr. Bush pledged to press Congress to finally drop the provision.

But the White House waited nearly a year to push for passage of the legislation. Then, the process came to an abrupt end last spring when Mr. Putin slapped an embargo on U.S. chicken imports, saying they were tainted by salmonella bacteria.

Last summer, administration officials thought they had reached an agreement to end a standoff by allowing Russian government inspectors to come to the U.S. to survey production plants and certify they meet Moscow's standards. It was a rare concession by a U.S. industry, but with $660 million of annual sales at stake, companies gambled that it was worth it.

But protracted negotiations ensued over what standards the U.S. plants had to meet. Among Moscow's demands: all packaged chicken must be checked for radiation with Geiger counters; a ban on genetically modified feed corn and soybeans for chicken destined for Russia ; installation of walls in all U.S. plants between the evisceration and carving of the birds, to hold down bacteria; and freezing of chicken parts within 48 hours, as opposed to the industry standard of 72.

The poultry industry was appalled. So were nearly 200 lawmakers from states producing poultry, soybean and corn. In letters to the White House, they let it be known that Russia needed to back off or face trade sanctions -- a step that would reverse any movement toward normal trading status and the lifting of Jackson-Vanik requirements on Russia .

A breakthrough came last month when U.S. agriculture officials announced agreement on the "technical" inspection issues, and surveys of 360 poultry facilities began. They are expected to be finished by mid-June. By early July, Moscow will announce which passed muster with the inspectors.

If that goes well, and Moscow shows some flexibility on recently imposed import quotas, the agriculture community is prepared to ease its objections to lifting Jackson-Vanik requirements on Russia . That would be a big win for the White House, but that is hardly the end of the battle for Mr. Bush and Mr. Putin.

Beyond chicken, the beef, poultry and fertilizer industries are raising their own issues with Russia that they want ironed out before Congress helps clear the way for Russia's entry into the WTO. Meanwhile, Democrats want to ensure protection for labor unions in Russia , and human-rights groups want to continue monitoring treatment of Russia's Jewish population.

And, finally, House leaders once sympathetic to the president's plight on Jackson-Vanik now face lawmakers angered by Russia's objections to the Iraq war and allegations that it may have sold night-vision goggles and radar-jamming equipment to Saddam Hussein's military.

"That soured the mood on Capitol Hill in terms of doing something nice for Russia ," says Blake Marshall of the U.S.-Russia Business Council.

(Jeanne Whalen in Moscow contributed to this article).

See also:

Russia-US Relations

Wall Street Journal, May 27, 2003