177. And now let us praise Yelena Trebugova

In my opinion, we can call ourselves a democracy in England, not because of our political system, our House of Commons, our right of voting every four years, the way one Party in government gives way to another gracefully if defeated, and so on and so on. We can only call ourselves a democracy because we still have a free press. If it were not for this, then I am quite sure that we would have descended into a dictatorship a long time ago. At this point -- and at the risk of being tedious -- let me quote one of the most quoted of all quotations: "Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely" (Lord Acton 1887). And, while I am at it, let me also give a quotation of  Albert Camus I have just come across in my dictionary of quotations -- a writer whose life was cut short but who, I am sure, would have written many other great books than the few that he did. In The Fall (1956) he wrote: "We can't do without dominating others or being served .... Even the man on the bottom rung still has his wife, or his child. If he's a bachelor, his dog. The essential thing, in sum, is being able to get angry without the other person being able to answer back."

Answering back -- yes. What is absolutely essential in any democracy or indeed, any system of government is for someone to be able to answer back. The wise king in medieval times -- albeit all too seldom -- made sure he had a fool at court. In my opinion, Blair came very close to becoming a dictator earlier this year when he decided -- quite against the will of his cabinet -- and without consulting parliament or people -- to throw in his lot with Bush in the invasion of Iraq without the consent of the Security Council of the UN. Quite beside the tragic destruction of innocent women and children in Iraq, Blair's decision almost wrecked the UK constitution. As we don't have a written constitution I can write that and get away with it. But what happened is that the evidence presented by a BBC reporter and the general line taken by others meant that the BBC generally was felt to be against Blair's decision. The subsequent anger and threats made by Blair and his cohorts against the BBC were so nasty that I and many others wondered what country we were living in and whether we were descending into totalitarianism. The Blair government even tried to ban a public demonstration against the Iraq invasion in Hyde Park -- which turned out to be one of the largest ever in the history of England -- on the grounds of public safety (because the ground was muddy!). If it hadn't been for the BBC and several independent-minded newspapers, then we would now be living in a much sadder country than we are now.

When Russia threw communism over, its citizens had a wonderful opportunity -- and many took it -- to bring about many media institutions which could freely criticise the government. Unfortunately, since Putin and his FSB henchmen have been in the driving seat, free comment has been almost totally driven away. All the main TV channels, almost all the newspapers and all but one radio channel have now been sterilised in various ways. I fear there is little hope for Russia now. It is dropping back into its old ways -- that of the communist nomenklatura, and of the Tsars and secret police of former times.

There are a few brave souls left and for one of them, Yelena Trebugova, we can only have the greatest admiration and praise.

Keith Hudson

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DIGGING THE DIRT IN PUTIN'S KREMLIN

Meeting Yelena Trebugova, the woman whose exposé of Putin's regime is a Russian publishing sensation

Mark Franchetti

It is 1998, two years before he becomes Russian president, and Vladimir Putin is seated alone in a fashionable Moscow sushi bar waiting for his lunch date. He is the head of the FSB, the former KGB, and his armed bodyguards have cleared the restaurant. Yelena Trebugova, a young and attractive Kremlin reporter, finally arrives half an hour late. The heel on her shoe, she explains, broke as she hurried through the snow.

After lunch, Putin drove the 25-year-old in a bulletproof Mercedes with tinted windows to the nearest shoe repair shop and offered to wait before dropping her off at work. Little did he know that his charming lunch partner would one day become a thorn in his side.

Now, five years later, Trebugova has rocked Moscow's byzantine political circles by publishing an account of her time as a Kremlin reporter. Only hours after it hit the shops her book. Tales of a Kremlin Digger, became a publishing sensation. The first 10,000 copies sold out immediately. As Russians queue to buy her book, another 80,000 copies are being printed.

Tame by the standards of most western kiss-and-tell memoirs, Trebugova's work nonetheless paints a damning picture of the Kremlin's systematic clanipdown on the free press since Putin became president in 2000. His entourage is said to be furious.

In a telling example of the growing censorship gripping Russia, last month Trebugova was fired by her editor at Kommersant, even though the influential daily is owned by Boris Berezovsky -- the controversial Russian tycoon and one of Putin's fiercest critics -- who was recently granted asylum in Britain. The rumour is that she lost her job after her editor came under pressure from the Kremlin.

"I don't regret writing the book," she says. "Ordinary Russians are starting to understand that under Putin almost all sources of free information have been shut down, and they don't like it. The book gives an insight into what the Kremlin is really like."

The idealism that Trebugova felt when she started as a journalist in 1992 during the days of glasnost andperestroika, and her disillusionment a decade later, are an indictment of the way Russia's press went from being one of the most vibrant in me world to one of the most controlled.

Since the collapse of communism, Russia's media have been plagued by corruption. Nonetheless, under Yeltsin's erratic rule even his fiercest opponents credited him with allowing journalists to criticise the Kremlin. That changed when Putin succeeded him, bringing to power a group of former colleagues from a secret police that was ill-disposed towards the press.

The new regime's first victim was Vladimir Gusinsky, an influential businessman who owned Russia's only independent media empire, including the hard-hitting NTV channel. Gusinsky refused to back Putin's presidential bid and paid for his dissent. He was stripped of his assets, briefly jailed on fraud charges and later fled Russia to avoid prosecution.

Even the man chosen by Putin's, aides to replace Gusinsky at NTV was removed two years later for failing to toe the Kremlin line with sufficient zeal. His successor, a doctor who had written a study on how best to cure piles, had never worked in the media.

Trebugova, now 30, covered the Kremlin as a pool reporter for four years. A year after Putin became president her accreditation was withdrawn because she refused to let her articles be censored. In her book she reveals that shortly after Putin's election victory, Alexei Gromov, his press spokesman, told her and other journalists that from then on all questions to Putin during press conferences had to be cleared with him first. In addition, he warned them not to talk to members of Putin's delegation during foreign trips.

Asked by one journalist what they should do if a delegation member approached them for a chat, Gromov replied that they should seek his permission before striking up a conversation."I constantly felt under psychological pressure, said Trebugova. "It started as soon as Putin came to power. First I was barred from going on a few trips abroad and finally they just tore up my Kremlin accreditation. They are bent on total control of the press."

Trebugova was told by colleagues that during a visit to North Korea, Putin asked Kremlin pool journalists not to write negative articles about the communist regime whose policies have caused millions of deaths. In her book she recalls how, following another visit abroad, the plane carrying the press and Kremlin officials had to make an emergency landing. One Putin aide warned journalists on board that if they wrote about the incident they could be refused accreditation on the next trip.

At one point during a visit to London in April 2000, Russian journalists accompanying Putin were split into two groups by his press officials. She and others were put on a bus and dispatched to the hotel, while a second group of more obsequious journalists joined Putin for a private dinner.

During one visit to a Russian hospital, a little girl told Putin that she was afraid of him. Journalists were warned that they would be stripped of their accreditation if they reported it.

After nearly four years of Putin's rule, all national Russian television channels are controlled by the Kremlin. Except for one liberal Moscow radio station and Novaya Gazeta, a daily newspaper that regularly publishes exposés of the war in Chechnya but sells only 125,000'copies, there is no free press left in Russia.

Privately, editors say that under Putin the Soviet practice of calls from Kremlin officials to pressurise them into killing off critical stories has once again become common practice. The tapping of journalists' phones by the FSB is also widespread.

Last month, when the Russian stock market lost 15% of its value following the dramatic arrest on fraud and tax evasion charges of Mikhail Khodorkovsky, the country's richest man who fell out with Putin, Russian state television led its nightly bulletin on this year's flu epidemic.

In such a climate, finding a Russian publisher brave enough to take on Trebugova's book was no easy task. Aware of the risks, she kept the project secret. Interest grew only when she gave a copy to an opposition politician weeks before publication. Within days dozens of deputies in the Duma, the lower house of parliament, were smuggling xeroxed copies of the book around Moscow.

"Under Yeltsin we journalists had a wonderful honeymoon," says Trebugova. "He would never have allowed the crackdown on free speech which Putin has orchestrated. Those days are now over."

The Sunday Times -- 23 November 2003
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Keith Hudson, Bath, England, <www.evolutionary-economics.org>