Death of a Dissident - Alex Goldfarb [30]
“Boris Nikolaevich, we’d like to raise the issue of the coming elections,” Berezovsky began. “We have the feeling you’re headed toward catastrophe.”
“But I’m told that the situation is improving, that the polls are skewed, and for the most part, people will vote for me,” the president said, frowning.
From Yeltsin’s neutral tone, Boris couldn’t make out whether he was completely out of touch with reality or just teasing them.
“Boris Nikolaevich, you’re being deceived!” Berezovsky retorted. The members of the group chimed in: “What’s going on around you is a disaster. People see it, so many in the business community are trying to cut a deal with the Communists and the rest are packing their bags to flee abroad. If we don’t reverse this situation now, in a month it will be too late. And our motivation is pure: if you lose, the Communists will hang us from the lampposts.”
“Well, what are you proposing?” Yeltsin inquired, again in a neutral tone, displaying neither consent nor objection.
“Give us an opportunity to help your campaign,” Boris pleaded. “We have the media, money, people, contacts in the regions, and the main thing: determination. We just need a word from you.”
“I already have a campaign staff,” said Yeltsin. “Are you suggesting that I fire Soskovets and put you in charge?”
“No, of course not. Create another entity—say, an analytical group. Let it work alongside your staff. And we propose Anatoly Borisovich Chubais as its leader.”
“Chubais? Chubais … Chubais is to blame for everything,” the president said, quoting himself. He paused, still revealing little behind his impassive mask. But then he flashed a hint of a smile. “Well, okay, since he’s to blame, let him clean up the mess. All right, give it a try,” he said.
After the meeting Boris stayed behind for fifteen minutes to discuss details. He worried that the president was not completely sold on the plan. He mentioned that he had heard of Korzhakov’s idea to suspend the elections.
“We will win, democratically, Boris Nikolaevich. Any other way would lead to massive bloodshed,” Berezovsky argued. But as he left he was still not sure whether he had carried the day. Yeltsin held his cards close to his chest.
The very next day, people began working feverishly at “Shadow HQ,” as the endeavor became known in its narrow circle. It was kept secret from the press and the public. Within days, Boris and Goose managed to pull together a team of the best brains in Moscow, from pollsters to speechwriters. They worked out strategies to reach out to the young, pensioners, and the military; they scheduled rallies and concerts; they enlisted performers and pop stars; they courted regional power brokers; in short, they used every trick they could find in the Western book of campaigns, previously unknown in Russia. Their sluggish opponents never responded but just hoped to win by making speeches in the archaic style of the Soviet Politbureau.
Work at Shadow HQ continued 24÷7 in total secrecy. Chubais managed finances and logistics, Boris determined general strategy, and Goose brought in his star creative genius, NTV president Igor Malashenko, to coordinate the media campaign. Yeltsin’s ratings in the polls began to climb almost immediately.
Years later, as an exile in America, Malashenko recalled the drama and the irony of those days.
“I first was taken to see Yeltsin on March 6, under a veil of total secrecy. I told him straightaway that I will make him win. He did not seem to believe me. My impression was that he agreed to work with us only to be able to say to himself that he had exhausted all options. I said that I needed his help with aggressive news management on a daily basis.
“‘What do you mean?’ he asked.
“I told him how Ronald Reagan would go to an automobile plant to make a speech about the economy, or to a flag factory to generate patriotic images. He was amused by the flag factory idea. My people rushed to look for a flag factory in Moscow. But when we found one, I dumped the idea: it was a miserable hole, filled with embittered