Book Review: Once Upon a time in Russia

By Ben Mezrich

The early nineteen nineties was a period of immense social and economic upheaval in Russia. After nearly eighty years of communist rule, the Berlin wall came crashing down and with it the socialist republics of Eastern Europe. When the Soviet Union finally crumbled this was hailed in the west as the triumph of liberty over oppression. For a small number of immensely talented but unscrupulous men, this was not so much a moment to savor their newfound freedoms as a chance to get filthy rich if they acted fast enough. Once Upon a Time in Russia tells the tale of how modern Russia came to be by charting the rise and fall of the oligarch Boris Berezovsky. Written like a suspense novel yet based entirely on facts, it proves that actual history is often more dramatic and unbelievable than fiction.

Berezovsky´s tale is a tragic and Shakespearean one. A brilliant young mathematician who rose to be one of the most powerful and wealthy men in Russia, before falling from grace and dying under mysterious circumstances in his manor home in Berkshire, England.  For a man of boundless energy and ambition, the fall of the Soviet Union gave a young Berezovsky the opportunity to rise high above the vast majority of his fellow Russians. The old communist order didn´t go quietly, however, and Russia´s transformation from crumbling socialism to vulture capitalist free-for-all was exceedingly messy and corrupt. Old state owned businesses and assets were suddenly thrust into a cutthroat open market where they were often sold for a pittance. Berezovsky’s rise began when he and a Georgian business associate started LogoVAZ, a company developing payment systems and software for the old Soviet car company AvtoVAZ, manufacturers of the Lada automobile. I don´t know what kind of computing power they had access to in the old Soviet Union, but if Berezovsky had offered them a pocket calculator it would probably have been a vast upgrade. His main business scheme brilliantly profited of the rampant hyperinflation that Gorbachev´s Perestroika had unleashed upon the country. By purchasing factory fresh cars on consignment, paying only a small down-payment, he sold the cars on to various dealerships and only repaid his debts once the inflation had rendered the outstanding sums largely symbolic. This might would never have worked under normal circumstances, but the so called “Red Directors” who were appointed by the Russian government to run its formerly state owned businesses were hopelessly inept and corrupt. Like myopic dinosaurs they had more or less no idea what capitalism meant and had probably yet to swap their Mahorkas for decadent and capitalist Marlboros.

His rising wealth meant that Berezovsky could enter the game of politics and become a serious power broker in Russia. His moment of sublime triumph came during the Russian election in 1996. The incumbent president Boris Yeltsin was massively unpopular and virtually a dead man walking who battled a string of heart attacks as well as prodigious alcoholism. By all accounts his main opponent, the charismatic communist Gennady Zyuganov, looked set to win by a landslide. Berezovsky resolved to prevent this by any means necessary, and at the world economic forum in Davos that year he managed to assemble a cabal of fellow oligarchs who feared a return to communism more than they hated dealing with each other. Much political maneuvering behind closed doors as well as untold millions of rubles secured a victory for Yeltsin as well as a figurative jewel in Berezovsky´s crown. Here Mezrich delves into the minds of our favorite oligarch and tries to explain his motivations. It wasn´t just money, he reckons. Men like Berezovsky honestly thought that what they were doing were not only in their own best interests, but that it was also best for mother Russia. They dreaded a return to communism and sought to turn Russia into a neo liberal republic without any closet pinko sympathies. Electing the ageing Yeltsin, whose skin was wax-like and pale and his every movement slow and labored, meant that Russia would finally escape the clutches of Stalinism. I get the impression that there might have been some sort of healthy middle ground between an Ayn Rand-style free market and Communism. This is something that I remember Dilip Hiro writing about when I reviewed After Empire.  

In Russian krysha means roof. Besides being the word for what you hopefully have over your head, it is also a Russian slang word for protector. In a society where corruption was rife and business success depended on having the powers that be on your side, a krysha was a well-connected individual you payed to keep various gangsters and unscrupulous government officials off your back. The distinction between the two doesn´t always seem to have been crystal clear. This was how the fateful partnership between Berezovsky and his protégé Roman Abramovich came into being. The future owner of the Chelsea football club grew up under humble circumstances yet eventually came to eclipse even Berezovsky himself. But to do so, Abramovich needed Berezovsky´s connections to help him bag that elusive first billion. Having come a long way since selling imported rubber ducks from his Moscow apartment, Abramovich now eyed the vast state owned oil companies with the same rapacious lust that might normally be reserved for a premier league footballer seeing a Range Rover with ostrich leather seats. Together with Berezovsky, he acquired a controlling interest in the oil giant Sibneft. Abramovich seems to be the kind of brilliant and self-made billionaire that Donald Trump would have you believe that he is, and both men were soon raking in the petro-rubles like there was no tomorrow.

At this point Berezovsky, with countless yachts and lavish mansions all around the Mediterranean, seemed to have it made. However, his constant need to be in the center of things eventually got the better of him. After helping Vladimir Putin get elected in 2000, he was summoned along with every other oligarch worth mentioning to an ominous meeting to be held at Stalin´s former Dacha outside Moscow. Putin explained to the gathered oligarchs in no uncertain terms that from here on out, they were allowed to keep making money as long as they stayed out of politics. The luncheon that followed was utterly delectable, but Mezrich is probably right when he paints the mood among the gathered oligarchs as being a little uneasy. What followed was Berezovsky taking on a fight that he lost spectacularly. After the Kursk submarine was lost at sea with all hands, he ordered his television company to attack Putin savagely. This attack failed to dent Vladimir Vladimirovich´s popularity, and Berezovsky soon had to flee to Great Britain to avoid being thrown into jail. His close associate, the former KGB agent Alexander Litvinenko had previously been put behind bars under dubious circumstances and getting him released had taken all of Berezovsky’s considerable resolve.

For Abramovich, a man who has always avoided the media spotlight at all costs, Berezovsky was becoming a liability. He strongly encouraged his associate to buy out his stake in the oil company, Sibneft, that they owned together. This is said to have taken place under dramatic circumstances in the Swiss Alps in 2001. Mezrich skillfully builds up the suspense and allows himself the literal flourish of having Abramovich descend onto the ski-resort in a helicopter. The money he made out of this reluctant business deal could have made Berezovsky set for life, unfortunately he seem to have been more profligate than all the Kardashians put together. He constantly lavished huge sums on various projects to discredit Putin´s government.

His friendship and association deepened with the like-minded Litvinenko during their shared exile, but the latter sadly lost his life due to polonium poisoning in 2006. Naturally foul play was, and still is, suspected. As if things couldn´t have gotten any worse, Berezovsky faced a costly divorce while his coffers were drying up. Instead of trying to deal with the situation in a calm and controlled way, and maybe selling of a villa in Antibes or two, I suspect he wanted go out the way he had always lived his life, firing on all cylinders. In 2011 Berezovsky launched the largest civil court case in British history against Roman Abramovich. He accused him of blackmailing him into selling his share of Sibneft and demanded 3 billion pounds in damages. The ensuing trial was torture for Abramovich, who abhorred the attention of the media, while the British gutter press had a field day. Ultimately Berezovsky lost, and emerged from the courtroom a broken man.

The man they found dead in his mansion barely two years later was a mere shadow of who he was in his prime. A man whose story was one of incredible success and even more terrible setbacks. I am glad that Mezrich decided to tell his tale, and in doing so shine a light onto a period of Russian history that is steeped in wealth, power and corruption.