Alexei NAVALNY: "I wish I knew fewer people who aren’t worth knowing"

The Vyatka internet—or rather, the forum regulars who like to gossip about the governor and his team—has already drawn a portrait of Alexei Navalny: a secret adviser, the great and terrible “Vyatka Surkov” (a reference to Kremlin political strategist Vladislav Surkov), the “governor’s best friend,” the man who is “about to take charge of the local press,” and who will “most likely become head of the governor’s administration.” Fuel was added to the fire by the March issue of Forbes, in which Alexei Navalny appeared as the man who preserved Kirov Region’s blocking stake in the Urzhum Distillery: “It was an old friend of Belykh’s and a defender of minority shareholders’ rights, Alexei Navalny, who informed the governor that the region’s stake in the liquor business was being diluted... At the very first government meeting, the governor ordered funds allocated to pay for the region’s share. Navalny sat quietly in the back row at that meeting, and few officials knew whom to thank for the dressing-down”... “I’m not a ‘gray cardinal’” Oddly enough, arranging an interview with the 32-year-old adviser to the Vyatka governor turned out not to be all that difficult. In his interview with VK, he immediately rejected the invented image of himself as “great and terrible” and explained how the distillery shares were actually saved. - It would seem that after the Forbes article came out, people started looking your way more often at government meetings? - As for the Urzhum Distillery... I have to say my role in that situation has been exaggerated. I was neither the main nor the only savior of Kirov Region’s blocking stake. It was Nikita Belykh himself who found the information about the additional share issue, and he simply asked me to examine it from a legal standpoint. Which I did—I analyzed the documents, and it was clear from them that the problem could be solved at an early stage. At the government meeting, the governor gave the relevant instructions. So it would be wrong to say that I personally saved anything. And by the way, people didn’t start “looking my way more often” either—thanks to the Kirov media, they knew who I was even before the Forbes article came out. They knew I sat in the back row. Some even knew that I was working on the issue of the state-owned stake in the Urzhum Distillery. If only because, while studying the problem, I requested the necessary documents. In general, the Vyatka media tried for a while to portray me as some kind of secret “gray cardinal” attached to the governor. That is completely wrong. I work on a fairly narrow range of issues and specialize in legal matters. I have to split my life between two cities: on Friday evening I leave for Moscow, on Saturday I’m home, and on Sunday evening I head back. I can’t say my family is happy about that. How long will it last? That depends on me—on how quickly I can prepare recommendations for the governor on several issues important to the region. It looks like I’ll be here for at least the next six months. Kirov Region is also a minority shareholder - Some may find it surprising: energetic young people usually want to leave Vyatka, while you, on the contrary, are putting your Moscow affairs on hold and becoming a Kirov resident five days a week... - My motivation is clear and, I think, obvious. Nikita and I, who asked me to help sort out the situation in the region, have been friends for a long time. We met during the 2005 Moscow City Duma elections, when the SPS party (Union of Right Forces) and Yabloko ran on a joint list. Later we began communicating more closely and gradually became friends. Belykh knows what I work on and is familiar with my legal cases. For several years now I have professionally defended the rights of minority shareholders in corporations. And the government of Kirov Region is also a minority shareholder—it holds small stakes in a huge number of joint-stock companies. And the government’s rights as a minority shareholder also need protection. At the moment of the change of power in the region, Belykh needed an independent, alternative view of the shareholding situation. Because when one team replaces another, it’s not so easy to understand what is really going on—there are always people shouting, “They stole everything!” or “They’re about to steal everything!” I’m ready to help the governor to the best of my abilities. I’m not a civil servant and I don’t receive a salary. I deal with issues such as the auction system, legal relations, and I prepare proposals for removing the corruption element from the government’s work. These are all the same issues I work on in Moscow. Moving to Kirov did not require any drastic change in what I do. It’s my usual work. Maybe that’s why, having come here, I’m not looking for some kind of Vyatka roots, not rushing to fraternize with everyone, and not promising to become a true man of Vyatka or a true Kirov resident. I’m an outsider. And I intend to remain one on principle. You know, friendship with local businesspeople, officials, and local elites would only get in the way of the work I’m doing. I’d rather know fewer people I shouldn’t know. I try to keep a certain distance and, from that position, give the most objective recommendations possible. The governor’s most valuable advice - What else is required of an adviser besides giving objective and valuable advice? - In fact, it’s very important from the very beginning to position yourself correctly, so that you don’t end up with a huge stream of petitioners who think that because you’re an adviser—and especially a “close friend who rides in the same car as the governor”—you can solve any problem. From perfectly normal, sensible matters to completely absurd wishes and demands, like “allocate us a billion rubles from the regional budget.” You can’t just throw someone out of your office—you have to talk to each person and redirect them somewhere. So establishing the right boundaries in order to save your time is very important. I understood that immediately, because petitioners were the first thing I encountered once people learned I was Belykh’s adviser... - What is the best piece of advice you’ve given the governor? - I think my best advice to Nikita Belykh is still ahead of me. But I hope some of my advice regarding regional property has been useful to him. Right now I’m preparing a number of proposals for reforming the auction system in the forestry sector. I also have a number of recommendations on changing the public procurement system and on the system of relations with joint-stock companies in which the region has a stake. In general, though, giving the right advice is not all that difficult. For example: “Nikita, make sure there’s less stealing in the region!” But in my situation, it’s not enough just to give advice—you have to propose a mechanism that actually works, spell it out, and ideally coordinate it with officials at a fairly high level. So that the order actually functions and doesn’t end up being issued only to get stalled somewhere in the middle ranks. Who leaves the regional government building last - Has Nikita Belykh changed as a friend over these two and a half months as governor? - He has. The burden of responsibility leaves its mark. Nikita is a fairly cheerful person by nature, and our style of communication has always been—and still is—informal. Of course, he had plenty of work and responsibilities before too, when he was party leader and taking part in elections... But now Belykh’s degree of carefree ease—let’s call it that—has changed. He is now almost physically incapable of discussing anything unrelated to the region. No matter what topic you start with, he’ll bring it back to the situation in some place like Malmyzh. He’s no longer the same cheerful old Nikita I used to know. His schedule is mapped out two weeks in advance: visits, trips, participation in various federal-level events. I can also say for sure that he is one of the last people to leave the regional government building—by then there’s no one left, neither on the fifth floor nor on any other floor. And he arrives at work among the earliest. Plus, on Saturdays and Sundays he is always traveling somewhere around the region. - I imagine you sometimes accompany the governor on those trips. Have you seen much already? - I traveled with Belykh to Perm. By car, through Omutninsk. I experienced the full “charm” of Kirov’s roads, which certainly made an impression on me... So I’ve been to Omutninsk, and also Belaya Kholunitsa, Slobodskoy, and Velikoretskoye. In other words, I still haven’t seen all that much. “The biggest problem” for Nikita Belykh - Do you still remember your very first impressions of Kirov? - My first impression was, of course, the people. They’re very interesting—self-contained, with a kind of Ural-Volga slyness. What stands out is the very strong sense of regional patriotism. Everyone likes to emphasize that they are from Vyatka, that “Vyatka people are special” and that “Vyatka has its own ways.” Even businesspeople try to promote this theme of regional patriotism. Coming back to the popular habit among newcomers of searching for Vyatka roots—maybe they start looking for them precisely because of this local patriotism? Another impression is that chain businesses had penetrated Kirov Region only to a limited extent. Everything was homegrown. Vyatka was stewing in its own juice. There are advantages to that, and disadvantages too—more disadvantages, in my view. - Is the kind of miracle many people expect from Nikita Belykh possible in Kirov Region? - I think one of Belykh’s biggest problems is precisely that everyone expects a miracle from him. The situation can improve, but no miracle can be performed here. The region is subsidized; it receives money from the federal budget... It is, of course, impossible to make the average salary in the region rise from 9,000 to 18,000 rubles in a single year. But knowing Belykh and his team, I am sure positive changes will definitely happen. The governor will do everything he can to improve people’s lives. - In various interviews, the governor says he is currently rereading Saltykov-Shchedrin’s The History of a Town. Has it become your bedside book too? - No. I’m already quite tired of the endless historical parallels and allusions connected with Vyatka. The historical excursions Nikita Belykh gives me are quite enough. Of course, I have no doubt that there are local historians in the city who know the history better than he does, but in the regional government and among the officials there is definitely no one who knows the history of Vyatka and Kirov better than the governor. To be honest, it can even get tiring sometimes: when we’re driving through the city and, pointing to any old building, he can immediately tell you who the architect was, who lived there, and what else was connected with it... If Nikita ever gets tired of being governor, he could definitely earn his bread as a tour guide. About tea-glass holders. And not only that - In your online journal (navalny.livejournal.com), alongside serious accounts of the struggle for minority shareholders’ rights, there are also vivid little snapshots of everyday life—observations from trips and trains, where tea is no longer served in metal tea-glass holders... - I don’t travel around the country all that much. But of course, on the road, on a train, in a new city, you notice little things that are interesting. For example, in Kirov I really liked the name of one shop: “Nanotechnology—for you.” I definitely need to photograph that sign. Another little detail: buckwheat is called grecha, and chicken is called kura. They say that in St. Petersburg too, by the way. But I’d never heard it in Moscow. But I should say that when I set out for Kirov, I understood that this was not an ethnographic expedition. Tea-glass holders and shop signs are, of course, charming little things. But I came here to do serious work. And in doing so I’m spending my time and the governor’s time. I want that time to be spent usefully. - You’ve been fighting for minority shareholders’ rights for several years now. How did it begin? - My political biography was built on rights advocacy. At one point, together with colleagues from Yabloko, I created the Committee for the Protection of Muscovites, which dealt with infill development, the fight against illegal construction, and the defense of citizens’ rights in that sphere. Later we defended the rights of citizens who had come into conflict with the police. We conducted inspections of police stations and documented how detainees’ rights were being observed. I’ve been closely monitoring the situation of minority shareholders for three years now, and for the last year and a half I’ve been working on it in an active phase—I currently have around 15 arbitration cases underway. I’m suing practically all of Russia’s major corporations. A huge number of minority shareholders come to me. Here in Kirov too, several people have already approached me who are also minority shareholders and are having problems with their rights. Our answer to depression - Do you still engage in politics, or in today’s Russia does a politician with liberal views simply have no serious chances? - For me, politics means not being indifferent. Yes, today I can’t take part in elections. But I continue the struggle through the courts. Some people go on marches. Others engage in politics by working in the executive branch—you can try entering the executive branch and changing something from there. I disagree with those who criticize Nikita Belykh, for example, for going into government. He was never a major opposition figure. He was deputy governor of Perm Krai, so by accepting the offer to head Kirov Region he did not depart in the slightest from the path he had been following. If anything, by taking part in the “Dissenters’ Marches,” he was the one departing from his own line. As governor, he is quite effective. - One area of the governor’s work is the “fight against depression,” against the defeatist mood in the minds of the region’s residents. What is your advice on how to deal with it? - Depression really is a very serious problem. Even if we take the demographic situation: every year the natural population decline is 2,000 people—that is how much deaths exceed births. But we must remember that 15,000 people leave here every year. They go to Moscow, Nizhny Novgorod, Kazan, and other neighboring regions. And these are people aged 20 to 29. So on the one hand, this is an outflow of the most employable segment of the population, and on the other hand, it is also an outflow of the children of those who leave. In other words, Vyatka is simply deteriorating. Slowly dying. And to a great extent because of a sense of hopelessness, the conviction that “you can’t get anywhere here,” while “everything will work out in Moscow.” This situation has to change. But unfortunately, a problem like this cannot be solved quickly. It requires systematic work. It is connected with changing approaches, for example, to education. In Kirov there is a colossal imbalance in this respect: every year huge numbers of specialists graduate—lawyers, managers—who know from the outset that they will not find work here. They simply are not needed here in such numbers. Yet try finding an operator for a complex machine, even for a high salary—it’s next to impossible. And here is the result: people study here first, at taxpayers’ expense, and then move to other regions. One element of the effort to combat this depression that personally inspires me a great deal is the low-rise housing construction project. Through cooperatives (without developer-investor intermediary services, which would save money), and with subsidies from the regional and federal budgets, to build settlements, mini-towns. And to attract people from neighboring regions—if only because housing is cheap here. By the way, on my very first trip to Vyatka I was very surprised that the time here is the same as in Moscow. Perm is very close by, and it is two hours ahead of Moscow. But Kirov is on Moscow time. As a result, in winter it’s already dark here by three in the afternoon. When I first arrived, it felt as if it were nighttime outside all the time. Maybe that affects people too? An idea. From VK - Is it possible to revive your “Debates” project in Vyatka? - Yes, of course. I think we’ll work on that. But it takes time to prepare them. From the outside it only looks simple: you come out and debate. If people appear in Kirov who are ready to help us, that would be great... By the way, the project could become very interesting here. The governor—the highest-ranking person in the region—could appear at the “Debates.” He would be completely open and would not be afraid of open dialogue and argument with anyone. - There could be an interesting debate on the topic “Kirov or Vyatka.” But perhaps better not—supporters and opponents of restoring the historical name do not seem very willing to listen to each other. Debating could be dangerous. - What do you mean, dangerous? I can see that Belykh is ready to debate this issue with absolutely anyone. In fact, he is obliged to communicate with all the region’s residents, engage with them, argue his case, and persuade them. By the way, you’ve given me a good idea. I’d even take on organizing such debates. And I think they would be useful within the framework of the commission the governor created to study public opinion on restoring the city’s historical name. - Could you eventually move from adviser to a member of the Kirov Region government? - I don’t think so. At least I have no such plans, and Belykh has made no such proposals to me. Besides, it seems to me that given my political position—it is much more radical than what one is allowed to hold in government—my joining the government would bring the governor more problems than benefits. - The Kirov internet is actively discussing reports that “back there in Moscow, they are very unhappy with Nikita Belykh’s decision to bring opposition figure Maria Gaidar into the regional government.” Is that true? - I don’t think so. As far as I know, Belykh received no wishes or instructions regarding the members of his team. Long before Gaidar was appointed adviser, it was already clear that such a personnel decision would be made. It was no great secret—neither to me nor to the people who might have wanted to express their displeasure... P.S.:: Personal file **Navalny, Alexei Anatolyevich, was born on June 4, 1976, in Moscow Region. **He graduated from the law faculty of the Peoples’ Friendship University of Russia and from the Finance and Credit faculty of the Financial Academy under the Government of the Russian Federation. In 2000 he joined Yabloko. He took an active part in election campaigns at various levels as a lawyer for campaign headquarters. From April 2004 to February 2007, he was chief of staff of the Moscow regional branch of the party. In June 2007, he became one of the co-founders of the Narod movement.