thoughts on the road

Media ownership concentration: A threat to democratic discourse

2012-01-12T11:48:00.000-08:00

Ex-FCC Commissioner Michael Copps on Media Consolidation, Broadband Expansion, Threats to Journalism

2011-11-30T08:12:00.001-08:00

Interesting Washington Post article today. Remind me again why anyone should vote for this guy. Do we want a president an avowed policy of hostility toward civil servants who differ with him philosophically?

2011-11-30T08:08:00.001-08:00

Protestors may no longer be sleeping in Zuccotti Park, but they have not left the city. This morning, I heard the helicopter first. I gave it no thought. A traffic helicopter, I thought. Then, I heard faint chants - the "hey, hey...." rhythm. Something has got to go. That's the way the ubiquitous chant goes. I opened the window - and sure enough, the protestors were down the street protesting at the Credit Suisse building. I decided to get my laundry chore done & investigate the scene on my errand. The protestors, it turned out, were objecting to the 17th Annual Aerospace & Defense Financing Conference being held in the building. As a hand-out put it: "The CEOs of 30 A&D corporations are pitching business investment plans to Wall Street executives. Pentagon speakers will assure CEOs and investors that budgets will be cut for the 99% but that profits will continue for the military-industrial complex and the 1%." In other protest news, the students at Baruch College rallied again on Monday. Here's the video I made of that event.

2011-11-19T05:13:00.001-08:00

Here is a little video I made the other day about the events in Union Square and about the events in New York City in general on November 17, the international "occupy" day. The park has been cleared - but the idea is still strong - and the movement is growing.

The New York Scene Today

2011-11-15T21:34:00.001-08:00

Here's a video I shot of the events surrounding the eviction of protestors in Zuccotti Park.

2011-11-15T03:41:00.001-08:00

The NYPD cleared Zuccotti Park early this morning. I'm thinking of heading down there soon - people are gathering at 6th and Canal - to hold a general assembly and figure out the next plan. Here is the last video I shot of the protest encampment.

Revealed – the capitalist network that runs the world - physics-math - 19 October 2011 - New Scientist

2011-10-23T17:44:00.000-07:00

Revealed – the capitalist network that runs the world - physics-math - 19 October 2011 - New Scientist

Awakening

2011-04-26T12:02:00.000-07:00

It's been awhile since I've written here. Haven't been traveling much. That will change soon.

Anyway, in the meantime, here is a blog I found today - from someone also living in the Appalachian Mountains.

Take the moon!

2011-04-02T20:16:00.000-07:00

Emin Abdullayev (Emin Milli) və Adnan Hajızadə questions

2010-12-12T06:01:00.000-08:00

Did you follow the case of Emin and Adnan when they were imprisoned? Did you advocate for them in some way. If so, I'm very interested in your opinions a out the value of new media forms like Facebook, blogs, and YouTube. Please take a moment to answer my survey.
Thanks!

The Limbaugh/Beck/Palin Tax Cuts

2010-12-03T19:02:00.000-08:00

Seeking your opinions!

2010-11-26T11:41:00.001-08:00

If you have been following the case of the imprisoned bloggers in Azerbaijan, you probably know that they were released a little more than a week ago. First, Emin Milli was released. A few days later, Adnan Hacizade was released.

Of course, this can be interpreted as a cynical move by the government of Azerbaijan, occurring shortly after an election that was widely condemned as grossly unfair.

At the moment, I am collecting information on the use of "social" or "new media" in the effort to free Emin and Adnan. I am very interested in the opinions of all people who followed this case. If this is you, please fill out this survey. Если более удобно читать по-русски, вот русский вариант. Azerbaijani? Here you are!

Emin Abdullayev (Emin Milli) və Adnan Hajızadə

2010-11-23T19:02:00.000-08:00

Zəhmət olmasa aşağıdakı suallara düzgün və dəqiq cavab verin. Təşəkkür edirəm.

No impediments to committing violence against journalists in Russia

2010-11-23T04:31:00.000-08:00

Certainly, we can't wait for the authorities of Russia to solve any crimes against journalists. They care less about these crimes than they do about the crimes against ordinary citizens. And they don't care very much about those either.
Fish in a Barrel - Transitions Online

Moving forward

2010-11-04T07:12:00.000-07:00

While I empathize with the palpable anger of Tim Wise's post-election piece, I think anger is not in itself a fruitful emotion and does not need to be cultivated. I am more interested in finding a path on which this country can move forward toward greater democracy, and away from the political, social, and economic dead end to which it seems to be sliding.

Furthermore, by focusing on just the "old, rich white guys," White dangerously oversimplifies the situation. Yes, opposition to the Democrats came from them - but it was not just from them. It is more useful to systematically analyze the causes of the losses this week, determining what Democrats can and cannot affect.

1. Racism.
I agree that part of this election was just pure racist reaction. You will never get the Right to acknowledge this fact, and that's OK. Very few people will openly acknowledge that they are racist. It's not a good political strategy. While progressives might have some very marginal impact on affecting opinions in this area, the reality is that racism is a stubborn phenomenon, and change occurs over generations, not over the course of a couple of years.

2. Youth disengagement.
According to CIRCLE, a non-partisan group that researches political engagement of Americans between the ages of 15-25, young voters preferred Obama to McCain by 68 to 30 percent, the highest percentage received by any candidate since reporting by age began in 1976. But this time - the turnout was 20.4 percent, 2.4 percent lower than that 2006 midterm, when 10 million young people voted. That means about 1 million fewer young people voted this year. You might say - "only one million," but remember that many of the victories won by conservatives were quite close.

Reaching this age group requires new thinking and better research. These are potential voters who grew up under G.W. Bush. For many, "9-11" is the most formative political/social event. They are technologically savvy, but often quite ignorant of history. (I teach at a university, so I have some informed opinions in this area.) They are liberal on social issues such as gay marriage, but almost libertarian in their views about the ineffectiveness of government. And, of course, they are the future. Any successful political strategy must include really listening to their concerns. Personally, I am convinced that there is much commonality between these young voters and the progressive wing of the Democratic party, more commonality than exists between them and the Tea Party/Republican Party. But in order to find and develop that commonality, we need to listen with humility to their hopes and concerns.

3. Bought elections
In some cases, the crystal balls read by analysts in the media are quite accurate. As predicted, the Citizens United case decided by the US Supreme Court earlier this year had a huge impact on the level of funding by outside groups in this election. The liberals were outspent by conservatives by nearly 2-1. Just because liberals were outspent does not mean that the liberal agenda was unpopular in general. It means that it was unpopular with rich people. Rich people, as we know, are a small minority in this country but they own an increasing share of the wealth. Meaningful campaign reform is needed if this country is to develop democratically, but the Supreme Court seems dead set against allowing campaign reform to proceed, even if Congress could find the guts to tackle the issue - an extremely unlikely event.

Unless Democrats are going to abandon all elements that differentiate them from Republicans, they will never be able to match the support that Republicans receive from rich people. But if Republicans are rich in money, then the Democrats might be able to beat them by sheer mobilization efforts. This is difficult, but perhaps it is the only way forward - to build a popular democracy with strong grass-roots organizing. Even this will be opposed by the right-wing, because they know it is threatening. Witness the vicious opposition that groups such as ACORN have faced. Nonetheless, this is an essential element if we are to preserve what is left of democracy in this country.

4. Economic problems
Obviously, economic problems played a critical role in the overall voter anger that caused so many voters to choose Republicans on Tuesday. The fact that the Republicans presented no firm solutions to the economic woes didn't matter. Voters were angry. We would like to think that the economic problems will improve, but in fact the Republican triumph may make that less likely. Many of the extreme Republicans criticize all efforts to stimulate the economy. It is naive to think that things can't get worse.

It is necessary for progressives to persistently make the case that following the policies that got us into this economic situation are not likely to get us out of it. Tax breaks for the rich will increasingly burden the federal budget deficit, but they will not stimulate the economy. Their utility was questionable in the best of times; now, such tax breaks are simply unaffordable.

Conservatives will scream "class warfare!" - but the reality is that class warfare has been ongoing for the last three decades - and the poor and middle-class people are losing. Democrats - in their willingness to be "Republicans-lite," have been timid in pointing out the fact the rich are reaping rich rewards from the policies of Republicans, while the economic status of the country as a whole deteriorates. Progressives have to be loud and proud in pointing out the injustice of the current economic system. Yes, the system should reward effort and merit, but the rich getting richer now are not profiting from their virtue but rather from their connections and inherited wealth.

5. Corrupt Media
The media system is deeply corrupt. One of the largest "news" operations in the country is run by a former Republican media consultant. FOX News is completely honest about its bias, and yet for some reason it continues to be trusted source of information for millions. FOX News, of course, is not the only partisan source. MSNBC occupies the left side of the spectrum. Because of technological changes, greater partisan divides are predictable. The mass media, however, are changing rapidly, and a successful political strategy should consider this fact.

On one hand, according to Nielsen research in 2009, Americans watched 1.9 percent more television last year than the year previous. But there was more than 50 percent increase of Americans watching television on the Internet. (Think about this when you consider the battles that are being fought over Net Neutrality. These are not abstract technical issues. If large cable/media companies are allowed to charge preferential rates for content, what you see on the Internet could be restricted.) While television watching increases slightly, the time spent with social media is increasing dramatically. According to one piece of research, the time spent on iSOS media now rivals that spent on Sunday night football.

What does all this mean for progressives? There is great potential in reaching young people, if we take the initiative in listening to them and addressing their concerns. There are huge opportunities is we aggressively champion the cause of the people who have been steadily losing economic ground and hope for the last 30 years. There is great potential if we aggressively organize minorities who will face even more racism as the Tea Party/Republican Party becomes ascendent.

Hope is an essential element to the progressive philosophy. We focus on the best in our fellow citizens, looking to the future, looking for potential in challenging situations. This is one such situation. Anger is a understandable, but we should not indulge in it. Let's focus now on what we can change - because moving forward is still possible. The only losers are those people who stop trying.

Post-election thoughts

2010-11-03T03:52:00.001-07:00

As I look at the results of the election this morning, it's clear to me that the Democrats responded to late with too little force. From the first "tea parties" last year, the party should have been out in force, organizing the disenfranchised. The Democrats have a choice: Will they be the party of justice and equality, standing up for the disenfranchised- or will they be a different flavor of Republican. They can't win on Republican turf. This election is proof of it. They need to organize around the principle of economic justice for all. This means being open about priorities. The Republicans will call it "class warfare." I prefer to call it justice.

Post-election thoughts

2010-10-28T04:14:00.000-07:00

Frankly, the news about the current election has been deeply disturbing. The change that was promised has not occurred fast enough or easily enough for a large number of people, and so they are shifting their alliances, a shift that endangers whatever progress has been made over the course of the Obama administration.

As I was reading the paper today, I came across an article on the front page of the New York Times. The article about the new supercomputer in China is disturbing on one level, although I have faith that the greatest strength of the United States lies in whatever is left of its democracy, rather than in its technological prowess.

That said, it struck me that there could be advantages in taking an extremely competitive approach toward this challenge from China. As JFK took office, Washington focused on the Soviet Union, and the advantage that the USSR was gaining in space technology. As we now know, some of the "missile gap" was really non-existent, yet it provided a focus for JFK's agenda. Our own space program was in large part a response to this perceived threat from the USSR. With the space program, the US gained national pride, scientific prestige and a technological edge. The long list of innovations and advances that came from the space program includes items such as aircraft controls, microcomputers, virtual reality, athletic shoes and even enriched baby food.

But the space program and these fruits would not have occurred if the project were framed in purely scientific terms. The US needed an enemy, some foe that threatened us on a profound level, in order to mobilize and support such a broad program.

If the current president took a similarly competitive approach toward China, it could benefit him politically and help the nation as a whole. While I am personally not very competitive, I think the US culture is. We need a foe. But not any foe will do. Since the end of the Cold War, we have faced foes that are amorphous and not really worthy of a superpower. You can find them in the movies of Bruce Willis or any other action hero. Drug lords and terrorists. How do we combat such enemies? Response to such threats requires police actions, not broadly organized efforts.

Really facing the threat from China would require a broad effort to completely streamline our education system. At the moment, a large number of high school graduates are math illiterate. That would have to change, beginning with rigorous math education in the lower grades. In institutions of higher learning, the focus would be on regaining the technical edge that we had in this area at one time. In this atmosphere of shared sacrifice, the hedonism that afflicts our society would become less socially acceptable.

All this would require funding at a time when the opposition complains about the size of the debt (largely run up by the previous president). This funding will be impossible to obtain unless the need is framed in terms of a national emergency. When World War II began, notions of balanced budgets were thrown out the window. While I think the program to repair the nation's infrastructure is important and long overdue, it does not have the psychological impact of making sacrifices because of an existential battle. It is such a battle that could revive this country and the political fortunes of Mr. Obama.

Government for sale

2010-10-20T13:09:00.000-07:00

It's good that the Democrats are making this point. I hope that it is effective - and I hope that after the election the continuing attention is paid to taking the money out of the US election system, because it is becoming completely corrupted!

Corporations and the future of our democracy

2010-10-04T03:11:00.000-07:00

It is hard to get perspective on the times in which we live, but In the United States now it seems that we may be in the first stages of some strange power shift. The economic benefits conferred by corporations may be now outweighed by the political harm they cause.

These thoughts come to mind after reading the news this morning. First, a Washington Post article about the level of corporate spending in this year's election. Millions of dollars are being spent - much of it on misleading and outright deceptive advertising. The bulk of this advertising and money supports conservative Republican candidates. Candidates who are pledged to support policies that support wealthy people and large corporations. Because of recent Supreme Court decisions - decisions by an extremely conservative Supreme Court - the donors do not even have to reveal who they are.

And what are these corporations doing for the nation economically? Not so much. They are profiting from government policies - sometimes from the very policies they criticize. The New York Times has an article about the billions of dollars they are borrowing at rock-bottom rates, essentially sucking cash out of the economy. What are they doing with this cash? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Sitting on it. Waiting for the economy to recover - so they can more profitably invest the money they have borrowed so cheaply. No one has the incentive to go out and make the gamble to spend the money first. We cannot count of private industry to help the nation in its current economic woes.

In short, the nation's relationship with its corporations may be tipping. Corporations for roughly the last 150 years have played a dominant role in our political and economic life. And large corporations, of course, have always inflicted some harm on society. Take W.R. Grace Inc., which poisoned the populations of entire communities. Companies such as the Anaconda Copper Mining Company killed and beat workers who sought higher wages. C. Wright Mills argued more than 50 years ago that large corporations enervated the nation's very soul. On the other hand, the corporation as a financial entity also allowed profitable investment of capital and economic development for the country as a whole. Incorporated businesses can raise money through stock sales, ideally using the capital to invest profitably and benefitting stockholders and the rest of society. But what economic development are corporations offering now? Not much. At the same time, the harm corporations inflict on our democracy is steadily growing.

Propaganda and negotiation

2010-10-03T04:38:00.001-07:00

I am now teaching at a university. One of the classes I teach is communication ethics. It's a broad subject, and during my lectures I make use of the knowledge I have about a lot of little things. Journalism, politics, negotiations, religious philosophy . . .

The other day, we were discussing situational ethics as they relate to communication. We were discussing the political communication in the US that has developed recently. That is to say - the sharp partisan rhetoric that has dominated discussion. I referred back to a class that I had on negotiations years ago. That for negotiations to succeed, both parties must view the other as a partner. We must make it our primary objective that the bargaining partner also be satisfied with the negotiations. If we do not, we will be trapped in zero-sum adversarial negotiations.

One aspect of this approach is that rhetoric is important. Feelings are important. If I am insulting you, I am not creating an environment conducive to negotiation.

So, this is what we have in the United States. Hateful rhetoric that makes negotiation nearly impossible. Why is this being used? Because the people propagating it have no real interest in negotiation. How can we respond to such rhetoric?

Personally, I hope to God that the better aspect of people will eventually reject hatred and those who sow hatred will fail in their objectives. But I am really not sure if this will happen before many people are hurt.

How are oil revenues spent in Azerbaijan? - 2nd video investigation

2010-09-16T19:28:00.000-07:00

Юрий Шевчук - Это все...

2010-09-16T15:41:00.000-07:00

Real life for women in the countryside

2010-08-27T11:10:00.000-07:00

RFE/RL recently posted a find article on the reality of village life for most Azerbaijani women. It fit with what I saw when I was traveling around that country a couple of years ago.

Governance as a family business

2010-08-15T03:39:00.000-07:00

Here's an excellent article from Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty. The Aliyev family is essentially shameless as it methodically wrings profit from Azerbaijan.

Life in Azerbaijan today

2010-08-12T11:11:00.000-07:00

Here's a brief clip that sums up the situation in Azerbaijan.

The problems in Russia

2010-08-09T04:04:00.000-07:00

The Washington Post has an article this morning that is relevant to my previous post. Russians have legendary patience, but nothing is infinite. And the sham of their "democracy" becomes more obvious every year.

The marvelous aspect of democracy is that it allows for the population to make a commitment to their government. Even though the people may not agree with everything about the government, they are committed to it at a fundamental level. If the government does not rule with the consent of the populace, governments tend to rely on fear as the means of obtaining the necessary compliance from the population.

Relying on this tool, however, has many drawbacks.

Russia will probably make it through this crisis and probably the government will not fall. But clearly the powers there are relying increasingly on the tool of fear. This tool will only make them weaker in the long run.

Russia on fire

2010-08-08T18:51:00.000-07:00

Tonight I was chatting with a friend living outside of Moscow. He described horrific fires and devastating heat. The windows cannot be opened without letting in the smoke, but the heat is enervating. The Russian people again are confronting a government that is not performing the most basic of functions - protecting public safety. Thousands of dachas - the summer refuge for Russians - are in imminent danger of being incinerated by the quickly spreading fires.

The fires spread all the way from the Northeast to Siberia. Another friend of mine, who lives in a Siberian oil town, says thousands of wells are at risk.

This is what global warming looks like. Temperatures that have never been experienced in the historical record, and the terrible environmental consequences that follow. Even a democratic and stable government would be stressed by the demands created by such a situation. When the government is weak, the situation is even more chaotic.

More work from dissident journalists in Russia

2010-08-08T17:17:00.000-07:00

New York City, August 3, 2010

2010-08-05T04:49:00.000-07:00

A Russian cop telling the truth

2010-07-28T04:59:00.000-07:00

Wonderful example of florid nationalistic blather

2010-07-22T11:29:00.000-07:00

A friend recently brought this post to my attention. Wonderful! I will use it an example of how not to write. Unfortunately, when I was teaching in Azerbaijan, too often I saw examples of exactly this type.
Azerbaijan as a new intellectual center of global thinking

Happy Independence Day!

2010-07-04T05:55:00.000-07:00

Today, July 4, the United States celebrates its independence from Great Britain, declared back in 1776. It's a one-day holiday - although sometimes celebrations are held on other days. In Todd, North Carolina, for example, a "Freedom Parade" was held on July 3. This was not a patriotic parade, in the sense of having a lot of red, white & blue & speeches about how great the USA is. Instead, the event celebrated freedom. In a way, it did not even celebrate independence but rather inter-dependence. The theme was ecology, and we celebrated the river that runs through Todd & the ecosystem it supports.

I am from the United States & there are plenty of things with which I am dissatisfied. But - one thing I do like is the diversity. There are lots of people who wave flags in blind patriotism, but there are also many people who are more thoughtful & trying to make the world & their country a better place.

Here are some photos from the day.

Afghanistan peace conference urges Hamid Karzai to talk with Taliban | MichaelMoore.com

2010-06-07T19:01:00.000-07:00

Afghanistan peace conference urges Hamid Karzai to talk with Taliban | MichaelMoore.com

The US public is losing patience with this war without end. The Soviet Power was killed in Afghanistan. US power already has been weakened seriously by this stalemate.

Democracy in Action

2010-06-05T07:09:00.001-07:00

Here is some footage of a recent demonstration in Baku. Dispersed violently by the police, of course.

The policies pursued by the Aliyev administration are so short-sighted, violent, and selfish. Those in power cannot hold onto power indefinitely, and when they lose power, the odds of good that the transition will be violent.

My Neighborhood

2010-06-05T06:51:00.000-07:00

Here is a little video tour of my environs. Shot from a bicycle.

Another case of justice denied in Russia

2010-06-04T02:48:00.000-07:00

Lately, I have been reading The Great Terror: A Reassessment. I can't say it's pleasure reading, although it is compelling. Reading this article this morning, I am reminded of the "justice" system that functioned during Stalin's rule. Incredible fantasies were conjured up by prosecutors, and everyone was supposed to believe these fairy tales. Bukharin a fascist in league with Hitler? Sure! Thousands of military officers in league with the Japanese? Sure!

Apparently, not so much has changed. Outrageous lies are still manufactured by Russian prosecutors. The legal system in Russia has nothing to do with justice or reality. It has everything to do with protecting people in power.

An interview with the Nagorno-Karabakh president

2010-06-04T02:23:00.000-07:00

Karabakh: ‘Free State’ - Transitions Online

A U.N. rights expert recently made his first visit to Azerbaijan and deplored the lack of progress in ongoing peace talks between Azerbaijan and Armenia over the disputed region of Nagorno-Karabakh. Walter Kalin, the secretary-general’s representative on the human rights of IDPs, said progress is needed to help internally displaced people in the region find a sustainable solution to their situation.

I don't know what the solution to this problem is, but I do know how destructive this unsettled problem is to the whole region.

Yet another fruitless search for justice

2010-06-03T04:58:00.000-07:00

When I lived in Russia, people sometimes asked me: Is it dangerous? Aren't you afraid?

I answered: It's not really dangerous. I keep my nose clean. After all, the most dangerous people in the country are the police.

Here's yet another example of what I'm talking about.

Of course, the charges that Russian police officers stole $230 million have not yet been investigated. And they will not be investigated. Just as the death of Sergei Magnitsky will not be investigated. It is just one of thousands of cases that where justice will never be obtained.

It appears that the Russian security forces have not changed appreciably since the days of Stalin. Do you really expect that anyone will be held accountable for the monstrous crimes of that era? Of course not.

Another mosque threatened with closure

2010-05-28T13:46:00.000-07:00

The Radio Liberty website is carrying news today of the closure of Sunni mosque outside Azerbaijan. The government's relationship with organized Islam is complicated. On one hand, the government sometimes has seemed eager to curry favor with religious authorities. On the other hand, it has on occasion acted repressively, especially against sects such as the Wahhabis. I think the guiding principle is constant across all authoritarian states. Any rival power center will be viewed suspiciously if not hostilely by the central government.

Secret Video from Tea Party Conference Reveals Talk of Secession

2010-05-26T17:32:00.000-07:00

An interesting little piece - mostly because it's an inside look at the Tea Party folk.

A little creative opposition in the toy department

2010-05-24T12:07:00.000-07:00

Home Fires - Transitions Online

2010-05-18T05:49:00.000-07:00

Home Fires - Transitions Online

Spring - but not so much indolence

2010-05-12T15:45:00.000-07:00

I noticed today that it has been over a week since I have written here. No real reason for the hiatus. The school term ending. Not much interesting to other people there. Sometimes - it isn't so interesting for me. As is clear, I am continuing to take photos of the beautiful spring that is unfolding here.

In the Caucasus, a Glass Half-Full - Transitions Online

2010-05-04T03:35:00.000-07:00

In the Caucasus, a Glass Half-Full - Transitions Online

Good news from Kyrgyzstan

2010-05-03T05:23:00.000-07:00

Some good news from the new government of Kyrgyzstan. Supposedly the "temporary government" will soon be permitting previously banned human rights organizations to enter to enter the country. Let's hope this decision of the temporary government isn't itself temporary.

Rising sun, setting moon

2010-04-29T08:06:00.000-07:00

Azerbaijani police in action

2010-04-26T05:22:00.000-07:00

Spring in the Appalachian Mountains

2010-04-25T17:36:00.000-07:00

New video about Adnan and Emin

2010-04-18T16:53:00.000-07:00

Here is a new video recently made in the Netherlands about the case of Adnan and Emin. A nice overview of the situation.

Contemplating the future of journalism

2010-04-12T06:49:00.000-07:00

George Brock at news:rewired 2010 from BBC College of Journalism on Vimeo.

Bird songs in the mountains

2010-04-10T18:45:00.000-07:00

I attend a Coffee Party

2010-03-28T06:33:00.000-07:00

You’ve heard about the Tea Party here in the United States. Maybe you’ve even heard about the Coffee Party. Yesterday, I dropped by a small gathering of would-be activists to learn for myself about this second group.

The Coffee Party as I understand it is a reaction to rancor and vitriol spilled by the Tea Party. As opposed to focusing on hate for the status quo, the idea is to think constructively about the nation’s problems and make some suggestions. The difference as I understand it is as much about the approach as it is about the issues. The organizers of the Coffee Party are quite careful not to identify themselves as "progressives" or "liberals." The idea is to build bridges rather than to throw stones.

I had heard about the Coffee Party from an e-mail sent by the loosely organized group. The note said I could punch my zip code into the web site and learn if there were any meetings nearby. Because I don’t live in a metropolitan area, usually such meetings are too far away. In this case, however, I learned that the meeting was planned at the local university. Very convenient. I decided to drop by.

The meeting attracted 10 people – six undergrad college students and four people who were in their late 40s or older. Overall, there were three males – two older guys & one student. The age gap was a little awkward. I was aware of the differences in our experiences. One woman referred to marching against war for the last 30 years or so. These students have different experiences, different history. Ronald Reagan is a historical figure for these students, not a president they protested. The Contras? Who? Ollie North? The Vietnam War perhaps gets lumped in with the Korean War, just another meaningless war in Asia.

If anything, I would have preferred to hear more from these younger students, but they may have felt shy in front of older people who were obviously so passionate about political issues. What are the issues that are motivating the young people? Some of them discussed same-sex marriage, for example, remarking how they did not see the rationale for preventing it. In future meetings, it might be good to structure the discussion so that all members of the group are allocated time to enunciate their political concerns.

The agenda of the group was fuzzy – but the facilitator had some instructions from headquarters to help guide the meeting. Our primary agenda for the meeting was to discuss our personal priorities and then decide on a priority for our little group. While we deemed many issues important – stopping the war, protecting the environment, improving the education system – the issue that lay at the core was the reform of the campaign financing system.

How to fix it? That’s a hard question, because there are serious legal issues involved. Earlier this year, the Supreme Court invalidated a major part of the McCain-Feingold campaign reform law. None of us were lawyers. But we agreed on a gut level feeling that the political process has been corrupted by the power of money trumping the power of individuals.

Perhaps we could even agree with Tea Party activists on this point. I don’t know.

What’s next? We’re going to meet soon with our legendarily right-wing congressional representative to communicate our concerns. Beyond that, I don’t know. It may seem like the fruits of this organizing effort are small, but personally I believe that every action has an effect. The motives behind our meeting were good and positive, so I expect that the results will be similarly positive and good.

Oh, and one of the students even bought me coffee. Very nice!

Chapter 8

2010-03-22T18:27:00.000-07:00

Buna knew this feeling. It always came after a few days. And she had it when she awoke after spending her third night in the hospital. The crushing demoralization of the day before had passed. Her hands were still shaky, but her legs were steady enough to walk. Buna had even been able to eat yesterday evening, and the previous night she slept for at least four hours, albeit still bathed in sweat. Now, she experienced the feeling of oppressive boredom and an itchy irritability. This feeling permeated every cell. She knew the cure for this feeling.

Buna also knew, of course, that Dr. Semonova would not agree to discharge her. She might even threaten to turn her over to the police, who after all had arrested her following that stupid fight with that stupid woman in the bar. But there was no reason for Dr. Semonova to know that she was leaving.

Buna quietly changed into her dress that had been stored in a cardboard box under her bed. She slipped on her shoes and made it all the way to the rear entrance, only to see the night nurse sitting on a chair by door, watching her every move.

“Where are you going, sister?” the woman asked.

“Going for a smoke.”

“You can smoke down the hall.”

Buna fingered the long, blue scarf she had tied around her neck. The scarf had been a present from Emin last year. They argued terribly on the night he gave it to her, the night when he got his new job. She thought the scarf, of real silk, was much too extravagant. And she didn’t think she deserved it. Now, she untied the knot at her neck.

The woman fingered the scarf slowly, holding it up in the dim light before stuffing it into her pocket. She walked away while Buna quietly opened the door and walked softly down the stairway. Buna opened the door, and felt the cool morning breeze blowing. The streets were empty, except for the street cleaners sweeping. She needed just a moment to orient herself, but then realized that she knew someone who ran a small café, not too far away. She began walking in that direction.

As Buna had expected, Dr. Semonova was angry to find that she had left, although not surprised in any way. She was not angry at Buna, but annoyed at herself for thinking that perhaps the alcoholic could change and save herself. Dr. Semonova questioned the night nurse about her departure, but the night nurse rightfully claimed that she couldn’t supervise all the patients all the time. Buna must have slipped out when the nurse went to the toilet. Dr. Semonova didn’t pursue the matter. She had more important things to worry about than alcoholics determined to drink themselves to death. The final preparations were being made in the hospital for the visit by the First Lady. A headache-inducing smell of fresh paint still hung in the air. Even some of the old chairs in her ward had been replaced. Workers were bringing a new portrait of Heymar Alidev, the final touch to complete the renovation of the ward, in the afternoon.

When Emin arrived with the portrait, Dr. Semonova was surprised that only one man handled these tasks. Emin told her that he worked alone. He was used to it, and he appeared to know his job quite well. When she pointed out the proposed location for the poster, he looked to her with the smallest of smiles.

“I understand,” he said. “It’s a good place.”

Dr. Semonova watched him as he climbed the ladder, hammering in some hooks to hang the portrait. She liked his quiet simplicity. How could such a nice man be working for such evil? After he had hung the large portrait and Heymar Alidev smiled benevolently upon the ward, she offered Emin a cup of tea.

“Just come to my office when you are done,” she told him.

He had no other tasks for the afternoon, so he agreed. When he knocked, she was filling out the daily report for the day: one patient missing, two discharged, one transferred.

“I don’t want to disturb you,” he said as he entered.

“No, please. Sit down,” she motioned to the chair by the desk.

She picked up the phone and spoke to one of the nurses, asking for some tea. Within moments, the nurse was at the door, bearing a tray with a teapot, small glasses, and a small bowl of candy. Dr. Semonova poured him a glass.

“So are you pleased with the portrait?” she asked.

“Thank you. Yes. It’s one of the better portraits. You know, Heymar has different moods. He’s in a peaceful mood in this picture. This mood is good for this place.”

“I think you’re right. Our patients do need much rest and peace,” she said. “You probably know all his moods.”

Emin smiled.

“The hospital director tells me that this portrait will help people get better. Do you think this is right?”

Emin took one of the candies from the dish, and unwrapped it carefully. He folded up the sticky candy wrapper and placed it in his saucer. The candy was a hard lemon drop. He sucked he for a minute before he answered.

“The hospital director told you that?”

“Yes.”

“Well, if he is the director, then he is probably right. I am not a doctor. My job is just to hang the posters.”

“I’m sorry. It was a silly question. I’m grateful for the picture.”

“Thank you. I am glad to help. I think your patients will like it.”

Dr. Semonova noticed the ring on his finger.

“You’re married. How nice!”

“Yes.”

“Children?”

“Yes, three. Two boys and a girl.”

Emin fingered his wedding band. He had forgotten that he wore it. How long should he wear it? He probably should have taken it off already. Was she gone for good this time? Probably.

“She must be very lucky,” said Dr. Semonova.

“Wonderful. I love children.”

They sipped their tea in silence.

Emin was startled by this thought, and suddenly uncomfortable with this woman.

“No, I am very lucky to have her.”

He put his tea and saucer on the tray.

“Thank you very much for the tea. I should get back to my family. My wife doesn’t like it when I come home late for dinner.”

“Yes, of course. Thank you again for your work. I was very happy to meet you.”

“My pleasure.”

She shook his hand with a firm grip and opened the door for him. The nursing staff was changing shifts as he left, and he walked out with the two nurses who worked on the ward during the day. They chatted about their plans for the evening, the parade and the fireworks that were planned. Today was the first of three days of celebration to mark Heymar Alidev’s birthday. Already people were gathering on the street, lining the parade route. Fighter jets swooshed through the air, tracing fantastic patterns with colored smoke. But Emin was not in a mood for a parade or fireworks. He knew of a café not too far from this place, so he began to walk in that direction.

The End

Chapter Seven

2010-03-08T16:19:00.000-08:00

Buna was sick again. She vomited into the little bucket by her bed, retching out a thin stream of yellow bile. Her stomach was empty and her insides felt like they had been wrung dry. She managed to put the pail down without spilling it. Her head fell back into the gray, stiff pillow. Every noise, sight, and smell in the ward grated on her nerves. The shoes of the nurses on their morning rounds clicked painfully. The sound of the patient breathing in the next bed raked her ears. The smell of the disinfectant in the ward and the smell of her own vomit oppressed her.

Buna was sick, but her head was clearer since her conversation with Dr. Semonova. Now, the facts of her situation were becoming depressingly clear. She knew where she was, although she hadn’t been to this hospital. About a year ago, she was in a similar ward, in the south of the city. Emin had eventually found her there, after he had called all the hospitals around the city. Maybe he would find her again. Maybe not. The thought tore at her like a twisting knife. She knew it would be better if he did not find her, if he just forgot her. Emin was far too decent for her. Better that he just get on with his life. They had tried, but something wasn’t right, because she had failed again. She would always fail.

While Buna was a proud woman, reticent about expressing any tenderness, in her weakened condition she felt tears well up inside. The feeling, so unfamiliar, frightened her. Her chest began to heave as she began to sob softly, turning her face into the gray, stiff pillow.

Only a couple of nurses worked this ward in these early morning hours, when the sun began to creep over the factory next door and illuminate the hall for all too brief a spell. And the sorrow of one more patient was hardly noteworthy in any case. Everybody had problems. But on this morning, Dr. Semonova herself was in the ward. She had slept poorly the night before, and sometimes a visit to the hospital wards was oddly soothing, reminding herself of other people’s problems. Her conversation with Burgar the day before still rankled her, and she vacillated between righteous indignation, anxiety, and fatigue.

Of course, she was indignant to be commanded by such an incompetent idiot to act as yet another soldier in the propaganda army of the president. And she was anxious, because she was all too aware of her own tenuous position. Her long tenure in the hospital meant nothing. A talented and highly respected surgeon lost his job in the spring, all because of some silly argument at a party. He made some intemperate remarks about the president’s father to a government official, and the next day he was fired. The doctor was fortunate, because he had relatives abroad, and he was able to leave the country quickly. Otherwise, more trouble would probably have followed. But Dr. Semonova had no one. Her work was her life. But on this morning, she felt particularly fatigued. She was tired of an endless struggle. For a time, she had hope that her new nation would re-build itself, that the people of the country might make some social or material progress. But the signs now seemed to point in the opposite direction, of a nation becoming more servile, more craven, more stupid.

Preoccupied with her thoughts, Dr. Semonova mechanically paced the aisles of the ward, arriving finally at the bed where Buna lay crying. Dr. Semonova remembered her with a twinge of disgust, and for a moment even felt a perverse pleasure in seeing her cry. Yes, you should cry. This is what your fun gets you – a lonely bed here, where you can cry your lonely heart out. But Dr. Semonova couldn’t enjoy her self-righteousness for long. Buna’s sobs were too bitter. She sat down on the narrow bed and touched Buna’s shoulder.

“There, there, dear. It’s alright. You’ll be feeling better soon.”

Saying such kind words felt odd in her throat, but she found herself saying them anyway. Buna stopped sobbing so loudly, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge the presence of the doctor on her bed. And Dr. Semonova just sat there, watching the morning sunlight seep into the ward, her hand on Buna’s shoulder.

As she gazed at the room, a sudden movement caught her eye. A rat. Again. That hole above the nurses’ table had been filled only two months ago, but the rodents had again gnawed and clawed an opening. From there, they could easily jump onto the ancient curtain, scamper down and retrieve any food patients left by their beds. And the rat gazed at her with disconcerting security and confidence. He could never be eradicated. This was his home. Dr. Semonova realized this fact, but she also had a flash of insight. The rat hole was the perfect place for the poster of Heymar Alidev. He would cover up the rat hole at least. With any luck, the rats would chew a hole into the portrait itself.

Buna stirred. She turned and saw the mean doctor sitting next to her. Buna felt the reflexive desire to be angry at the doctor, but she was too tired, too sick.

“Water?” she asked.

Dr. Semonova turned to look at the poor woman. Her eyes were very bloodshot. Her skin was pale and clammy. She was going through the worst of withdrawal from alcohol, but she would probably survive this time. Without a word, Dr. Semonova rose from the bed. She poured a glass of water for Buna at the cracked porcelain sink at the far end of the ward and brought it back to her.

“Here,” said Dr. Semonova.

Buna took the glass with both hands, raising it to her lips and drinking it cautiously. She felt a little liquid go down her throat and then handed the glass back to Dr. Semonova. She fell back on the bed, exhausted and nauseated by her efforts.

“I’m sorry,” Buna said.

She was, indeed, sorry but not for anything in particular. She was sorry for everything. For getting sick. For getting drunk. Sorry for bothering Dr. Semonova. Sorry for hurting her husband. Buna felt the deep regret and shame peculiar to a person recovering from a very long and serious spell of drinking.

“Yes, I know.”

Dr. Semonova took Buna’s cool and damp hand and gave it a little squeeze.

“You’ll be feeling better soon.”

“My husband?”

The doctor looked at her in surprise. She really had assumed that all of this woman’s family life was a fantasy. But perhaps Buna actually did have someone who cared for her. In a strange way, the doctor felt a momentary twinge of jealousy.

“Your husband? Where is he?”

But Buna had already regretted her question, remembering her earlier stoic resolve. Better for her to die alone, to let Emin be. She could not bear to have him see her like this again.

“I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know,” she said, lapsing into quiet sobs again.

Dr. Semonova sat with her, listening to Buna cry softly. After a few minutes, one of the nurses came over to the two women. It was highly unusual for the doctor to hold anyone’s hand.

“Is anything the matter?” the nurse asked.

“No, nothing,” replied the doctor, carefully putting Buna’s hand on the thin brown blanket.

“Nothing unusual. But keep an eye on her. She’ll want some food by the end of the day. Not much. Just a little soup.”

The doctor rose and glanced at her watch. She had to return to the office to finish a report to the health committee. And she would write a memo to Burgar, to inform him about the location for the new portrait in the ward.

Real estate genius?

2010-03-06T10:42:00.000-08:00

The latest evidence of the wealth accruing to the ruling family in Azerbaijan has been published on the Internet. This article by the Times details the real estate riches acquired by Heydar Aliyev, the 12-year-old son of the current president of Azerbaijan. Nine luxury properties in Dubai had been bought during a two-week period last year when the youth spent $44 million. In all, the president's children have real estate holdings of about $75 million.

This is wonderful. It's very important that young people be taught how to invest and save. The president is setting a fine example for other parents in Azerbaijan, encouraging his son's thrift and enterprise.

President Ilham Aliyev indeed sets a very notable example, and apparently, it has an effect. The country, after all, is recognized for its stubbornly high level of corruption.

It's also recognized for its high level of income disparity. While the president's son is investing millions of dollars in Dubai, the yearly gross national income per capita is roughly $666.

(As it happened, I needed to talk with someone in Azerbaijan this morning. The journalist I was contacting, however, couldn't talk because her newsroom was facing a momentary crisis. The news outlet's website was facing very strange and serious problems. Very mysterious. Perhaps the president does not want to share the news about his financially savvy son?)

Skewed priorities

2010-03-01T16:58:00.001-08:00

Ah, the priorities of the government of Azerbaijan were on display again this week, as it was revealed that it had spent thousands of manat to import olive trees. A total of 3,000 bushes and 300 trees were imported to be planted in Baku's National Park, an expenditure that could easily exceed $3 million if each one costs $100, a very conservative estimate. Of course, this excludes customs duties, etc.

It reminds me the expenses I saw daily when I walked in this park. Very beautiful, yes. Always with some project underway. New paving stones laid down - before the old ones are hardly worn. New plantings every week. The government seemed quite willing to invest in the cosmetics of the park, but very unwilling to invest in the people in Azerbaijan.

Chapter Six

2010-02-27T11:29:00.000-08:00

As Emin left the square, the fighter planes were practicing their aerial maneuvers, swooping through the air with a roar that rattled windows. The pilots were among the elite soldiers in Azanistan, chosen from families close to the core supporters of the New Azanistan Party. The president himself was known to enjoy flying, piloting his own jet and sometimes even participating in the air shows. Emin watched the sleek jets trace patterns in the air, releasing smoke tinted with the national colors of yellow, red and black.

The jets were just one sign of the coming holiday. As he continued on his walk home, Emin saw the crowds who lined the parade route. The main parade would be on June 23, still two days away. But already the army was practicing, rolling out its tanks and personnel carriers. The people whistled and clapped as the equipment rumbled down the street. The troops were preparing, but the commanders also knew that displaying their military might was always useful, making the people proud of their military, proud of themselves.

While most of the spectators were unaware of the subtleties of the display, the more educated among them knew that the forces on parade had distinctly different roles. The soldiers in camouflage were intended for battlefield conflict. These soldiers were recruited from the poorest of families. They received minimal training in the use of rifles, but their main role to was to perform unpaid labor such as digging ditches and harvesting potatoes. They rode in the parade, seated in rows in large personnel carriers.

The soldiers in the sleek black uniforms, however, rode on black motorcycles behind the carriers. Each of the motorcycles was specially fitted with an automatic weapon in front, a technical innovation for which the president himself claimed credit. These soldiers, wearing black helmets and black masks, were the troops of the Interior Ministry. This was the division dedicated to maintaining order at home. These soldiers were not trained in battlefield tactics and did not practice ordinary maneuvers. Rather, they received education in surveillance techniques, crowd control, and highly effective interrogation techniques.

While the ordinary soldiers were poorly fed and simply clothed, the soldiers of the Interior Ministry received the best training. Selection into this elite corps was highly coveted, and the Interior Minister built one entire mansion purely with the bribes he received from parents seeking to place their sons in the division. As these sleek warriors roared down the avenue on their armed motorcycles, the crowd whistled and shouted their approval. These soldiers presented the most handsome and fearsome image. They also made the citizens proud to be Azani.

As Emin pushed through the crowd, merely trying to make his way back home, he recognized the back of Gunar’s head, with its short-cropped hair and folds of fat on his neck. He began to edge away in the opposite direction, but unfortunately Gunar turned at that moment, and saw Emin.

After he gave Emin the tree-pruning assignment , Gunar had visited his restaurant and arranged for more effective collections of party donations from his team. He had decided to close the small grocery owned by Cavid Malikov who used to own a bookstore. The government had closed his bookstore 10 years earlier, but Gunar still suspected Cavid was a disloyal character. In fact, one of his informants had heard him complaining about the high cost of food products in the country. If he thought food was too expensive, then perhaps he shouldn’t sell it, Gunar reasoned.

Cavid at this moment was still working in his small store, unaware of the fate that loomed. Within the week, the tax police would find an irregularity, which would require that the entire store be liquidated to pay off the past due taxes. In itself, the liquidation of the store wouldn’t bring a large amount of cash to the party coffers, but it would serve to spur greater generosity among the remaining elements of the business community.

“Emin! Where are you going?” Gunar yelled, as Emin tried to avoid his glance.

“I’m just trying to get to a little opening in the crowd here. I can’t see the parade from here.”

“Come with me. I’ve got the place for us.”

Gunar was feeling generous, because he had solved this problem with the party donations. He wanted to share his good feeling with Emin, who always seemed unnaturally morose. The problem with some people is that they just don’t know how to enjoy themselves. Such a mood discourages other people around them, and Gunar tried to make sure that the people around him did not display such depressing attitudes. A depressed view of the world inhibited inspiration, Gunar believed, and as he saw Emin, he received a flash on inspiration. He would take Emin to visit his friends Gulinda and Lula.

“Come on, Emin. Let’s get away from these peasants. I have the place for us,” he said, grabbing the hapless painter’s shoulder with his ham-sized hand.

Emin was looking forward to returning to his small kitchen, making a cup of tea and then perhaps reading a book. He had already resolved that Buna and he were through. This made him sad, but he also had worried about her so much in the past that his feelings were less sharp, leaving just a dull ache inside. But as soon as Gunar grasped his shoulder, Emin knew that his chance for escape at that moment were nearly impossible. To argue with Gunar in the crowd would be unthinkable. Perhaps he could wriggle out of of Gunar’s plans when the two of them were alone. In the meantime, Emin followed Gunar as the crowd parted in waves as the large man elbowed his way forward.

Veering off from the main street, Gunar turned down a small alley, and Emin thought this was his chance.

“Gunar, I really should be going home. I have a big day tomorrow. You know. The birthday posters. Three new ones in Mikorvskaya district. Really big ones. It’s not going to be easy to put them up.”

Gunar snorted, but otherwise did not reply. He prided himself on his commitment, once he had decided on a course of action. Gunar had decided that Emin deserved a little fun, and he was not going to be distracted from his goal of entertaining him. He stopped at a plain gray metal door and rang the buzzer. A woman answered through the intercom with a rough “Who is it?” and Gunar answered simply “Me.” The automatic lock on the door clicked open, and Gunar pushed Emin in.

They entered a short dark hallway that smelled of disinfectant and cat urine. A black elevator cage at the end of the hall yawned open. Emin saw no escape. Gunar followed him onto the elevator, pushed the button for the third floor, and the elevator rattled upward.

When the elevator door opened onto the third floor, Gulinda already had opened the door the apartment. Dressed in a green silk gown, the large woman leaned against the doorway in a manner that to Emin communicated complete boredom. The gown covered her thighs, but it was only loosely tied at her waist, exposing most of Gulinda’s large breasts.

“Hello stranger!” Gulinda said. “Who’s your friend?”

Gunar laid his heavy arm on Emin’s shoulder.

“This is Emin. He’s an artist. And you know artists! He said he was looking a good time, and I told him I knew just the place.”

Gunar gave Emin a little push toward Gulinda, and the woman put her arms around his neck.

“Oh, a naughty little artist, eh? What does Emin want to do today?”

Emin very much wanted to have a cup of tea, but he was feeling quite unable to communicate this desire. Instead, he said nothing, and allowed Gulinda to run her hands up and down his chest, before her hands finally ended on his crotch. Despite his discomfort, Emin felt his penis begin to get hard under Gulinda’s touch.

Don't look for justice in the courts of Chechnya

2010-02-26T03:22:00.000-08:00

The New York Times has this sad article today. Sad because it is seems so obvious and inevitable. One of the late activist's colleagues notes: “There are good grounds to believe that people in high official positions could be involved. No matter how high-level the client is, he has to be held accountable, otherwise it’s not going to mean anything.”

Certainly a high-ranking official was involved. If it is a high-ranking official, however, he will never be brought to justice.

To be fair, this is not unique to Chechnya or Russia, where the justice system is - to be charitable - not fully developed. In the United States, the people at the top who were responsible for the multiple crimes that led to the war in Iraq will never be held responsible.

Justice exists, but this justice is not administered by courts.

Chapter Five

2010-02-21T07:47:00.000-08:00

Gunar was sleeping soundly on the sofa when the phone rang. After his large lunch of pork stew at the Pines Café, washed down with a couple of pints of beer, taking a nap was entirely natural. Gunar was a great believer in the natural order of things. Certain people were created to rule over others. Certain behavior was expected by subordinates. An afternoon nap after lunch was part of the natural order of things.

So Gunar was annoyed to have this natural order disturbed, and he let his annoyance show as he answered the phone gruffly.

“Yeah?”

“Timur Rodenko speaking.”

Gunar straightened up.

“Yes, Chairman Rodenko. How can I help you?”

Indeed, Chairman Rodenko had a clear idea of how Gunar could help him. Chairman Rodenko would not have otherwise called. He considered Gunar a lazy and greedy man, an opportunist. But, like many opportunists, he was extremely useful.

“Your friend Emin. He is still working as a national artist, correct?”

“Yes, he is. I saw him this morning. Is there a problem with his work? I will talk to him directly about it. We are not really close friends, by the way.”

“No, there is no problem that I know of. Not with his work. But something else has come up. The committee noticed that the portrait of Our Leader at the Star of the Motherland Metro is hardly visible.”

Rodenko was quiet a moment. He tended to speak softly and slowly, using uncomfortably long pauses for dramatic effect.

“This situation must be remedied,” he continued.

“Of course. Yes. I will contact Emin immediately. The tree will be removed before the end of the day.”

“Gunar,” Rodenko said slowly. “I didn’t say to remove the tree. Our Leader revered this particular species. It too is regarded as a national symbol among some of the peasantry. The tree should remain – but its branches must be substantially trimmed so that the portrait is completely visible. This requires some degree of artistry, so I thought your friend’s assistance might be appropriate.”

“I’m sure that Emin will be happy to assist in this task. I will contact him immediately.”

“Thank you. Oh, by the way. I noticed that the neighborhood donations to the party have been stagnant now for the last three months. Is there a problem?”

The donations to the party came from the businesses in the Sahil District, which Gunar managed. Once a month, a government official and a party official would visit every business – from the car repair shops to the restaurants. The discussions were almost always polite, unless the necessary donation had not been received in the previous month. In those unfortunate cases, some sort of problem was inevitably found. The bathrooms might be deemed unsanitary, which would require the immediate closure of the restaurant. Even car repair shops had been closed because their bathrooms were unclean. The severity of the problem found directly related to the attitude of the business owner. In the worst cases, serious discrepancies in financial accounts would be discovered. This meant that not only would the business be closed, but the owner of the business could be subject to immediate criminal prosecution.

The rules were well understood by everyone and only rarely were such measures necessary. But the economic stagnation in the country had begun to affect the local businesses. The local business owners simply were unable to bear the ever increasing level of donations requested by the party. It had been a long time since Gunar personally had made these fund-raising visits, but he knew the people who collected for the party and he knew the local business owners. After all, they were his customers. Gunar could be callous about people’s feelings, but he was perceptive about how they spent money. And he noticed how even the successful businessmen were spending less.

“There is no problem that cannot be solved with greater discipline,” Gunar said, quoting President Alidev.

“Very well. I am glad you will take care of this,” the chairman said, and hung up.

Gunar, in fact, knew that he could take care of the problem, but it would not be easy. Although he had a slight headache from the beer he drank earlier in the day, he actually relished the challenge that Chairman Rodenko had given him. He sat on the sofa, listened to the traffic below, and considered the alternatives. It might be easiest to completely liquidate one business, rather than require an equal amount of funds from all the businesses who regularly donated to the party. If done correctly, this very liquidation could be used to spur the other businesses into greater generosity. The remaining businesses in the district would understand this fate could await them too, if they were stingy in their support for the party. But which business should be liquidated? Gunar picked out a piece of pork from between his teeth with his index finger and pondered his dilemma.

Taking care of the Chairman Rodenko’s other request was easier. Emin was finishing a lunch of rice soup in his tiny kitchen when Gunar called. Although Emin was looking forward to an afternoon nap, he understood that a request from the Chairman had to be honored immediately. Within five minutes, he had donned his work uniform again and was running down the dark stairwell of his apartment building.

Emin knew the tree in question. The oak towered over the small groups of men who often played dominoes in its shadow. Ten years earlier, all the other trees in the square had been removed in order to create a flat tiled surface better suited for parades and assemblies. But this oak by some strange oversight had been spared. As he approached the Star of the Motherland Metro Station, Emin observed that the poster was nearly completely obscured by the tree. Only large forehead and the eyes of the dead president were visible, peering above the thick crown of the tree. Emin well understood the outrage of the party committee, although he was reluctant to cut the oak. All too few of the trees remained in the city, he thought. Over time, they had been cut to create space for grand tiled expanses. Such places were perfect for athletic displays and parades, but were of little other use. People enjoyed sitting under trees, and the benches erected in these newly created tiled and unsheltered squares were usually vacant for most of the day.

But Emin was glad at this point that no one was playing dominoes under the tree at this hour. He didn’t want an audience for this job. After a moment to contemplate his task, Emin swung a rope over the lowest branch, and quickly clambered up to the lowest set of branches. He had climbed trees since he was a boy in the north of the country, and the climbing skill remained with him like a second nature. Oaks were fine for climbing, with strong, evenly-spaced branches. He stood on the thick lower branch and looked up, feeling the coolness of the tree, its rough dirty bark. He looked at the ants crawling on the trunk, and looking up, he noticed a large bird nest in the top branches. This was unfortunate. Emin liked birds, but he had a job to do.

A few more minutes, and he had reached the branches that covered the poster. In the crook of one of these branches, he noticed the bird nest. It was empty now, but he guessed that it belonged to a couple of crows that sat on a nearby lamp post, angrily cawing at him. Twice they flew up, circling above him. But the nest was empty, and Emin knew the birds would just make noise. He began sawing at the necessary branches, but work was slow. The ants crawled on his pants and his shirt, biting him occasionally. The birds continued their outraged commentary. As the saw blade cut deeper, it got bound up in the green wood, slowing his task even more. First, he was sorry for the tree he cut, for the birds whose nest he destroyed. But as his work continued, he became annoyed, irritated that he was here at work still, irritated at the birds, at the tree that required such trimming. He cut one branch off and watched with satisfaction as it tumbled to the ground. The second branch was narrower and easier. Finally, he cut the branch that held the crows’ nest. The wood crashed noisily down through the lower branches, upsetting the table under the tree and scattering the nest across the pavement. The birds flew up again, angry, circling above the tree. Emin looked over to the poster. Yes, now the dead president could be easily seen from the square. This was good.

Innovation requires freedom

2010-02-21T06:20:00.000-08:00

This observation about the necessity of freedom seems obvious - and yet it is remarkable how often this truth is overlooked. I believe the connection between freedom and innovation is ignored in both capitalist and communist economies. Innovation can be squelched by the demand for short-term profits, or it can be smothered by central planners.

I think of this connection after reading an excellent column by Georgy Satarov. He picks apart a recent interview by a high government official, a government official describing in detail how the Putin-Medvedev administration is going to create some sort of engine for economic development and innovation. It won't happen. I have no idea about what is the future for Russia at this point, but it does not look very bright. The people running the country seem determined to close any possible space for democratic opposition. Without democratic opposition, there can be no peaceful change. And Russia vitally needs change. It plods on, its extractive industries subsidizing its maddening and oppressive inefficiencies.

The best and the brightest will always crave freedom. This is the nature of intelligent people. They seek the opportunity to exercise their intelligence. They do not want to be stifled.

Russia can continue on its current path indefinitely, but it will become increasingly uncompetitive in a global market that will not be restrained by Russia's police, bureaucrats and their criminal allies.

Boot licking

2010-02-13T10:46:00.000-08:00

Ah, the wonderful Azerbaijan Parliament. Bastion of free and honest debate on important issues.

Like International Women's Day on March 8.

The Soviet version of Valentine's Day is now outdated. It's a vestige of the discredited past.
Far better to celebrate the birthday of the president's late mother, according to one lawmaker.

Very sensible proposal, really.

Even if the holiday is not created, Elmira Akhundova has proven her servility to the ruler of the land.

Servility, not common sense or honesty, is rewarded in Baku.

Chapter Four

2010-02-11T08:06:00.000-08:00

While Buna slept for the next 12 hours, the psychiatric ward hummed with unusual activity. The ward, of course, was always active with patients in varying stages of inebriation or detoxification. They smoked, yelled, and paced. The more healthy ones played cards or checkers in the lounge. This week, however, marked the beginning of preparations for a special visit from the First Lady to the hospital. It was unlikely that she would visit this ward, where the patients were much less photogenic than in the wing where sick children were housed. Nonetheless, the hospital administration felt it advisable to thoroughly clean the hospital wards, removing broken furniture and applying fresh paint to the smoke-stained walls.

In the process of these renovations, a glaring omission came to light. The psychiatric ward contained not a single representation of the Father of the Country! The ward, which was not spacious, obviously could not contain one of the larger-than-life portraits that adorned city parks. But the portraits of Heymar Alidev were available in infinite gradations of size, so it was hard to understand how this error had occurred.

So while a crew of four men painted the smoking room, Burgar Hadiler, the hospital director made his first visit to the psychiatric ward to talk with Dr. Semonova. Burgar , who was impeccably dressed in a gray suit, carried a small catalog that listed the various representations of Heymar Alidev that were available through the government information agency. These portraits and statues, it should be noted, were not free. The agencies that purchased these items paid a fee to the information agency, a sum subsequently paid to the New Azanistan Party, which owned the publishing rights to all images and words of Heymar Alidev and his son.

To his credit, Burgar was more active than many party loyalists placed in positions that afforded them a large and secure income for only the most token labor. Burgar was easily bored and distracted, so he made a point to personally visit some of the doctors from time to time, ascertaining their political beliefs while bolstering a certain reputation for a direct management style. On these visits, which many a bureaucrat would have regarded as demeaning, Burgar frequently went without an assistant, itself a practice that was almost dangerously strange. As he strode through the hall to the office of the head doctor, the nursing staff blushed and hurried ahead of him. Burgar, a handsome man with wonderful teeth, smiled at the nurse standing by the door as he knocked once and entered upon detecting a nearly inaudible reply.

“Hello, Dr. Semonova,” he said.

Dr. Semonova was seated at her desk when he knocked and entered. She did not rise. While Burgar had the best political connections, connections to which he owed his current position, he had only held the job for two years. Previously, he had been managing a company that imported cars into the country, until this profitable monopoly was taken over by a drinking buddy of the president. In the eyes of Dr. Semonova, Burgar was an unqualified political hack. In fact, he was not especially suited to the job, and as a consequence was generally bored and dissatisfied. Administering a hospital was generally dull, although Burgar was responsible for several innovations. Under his leadership, a high quality and highly profitable plastic surgery clinic had been created.

Burgar stood with the door open, waiting for Dr. Semonova to politely stand and greet him. Burgar knew her opinion of him, but he was equally hostile toward the doctor. She was a vestige of a previous world, a world built on the illusion of equality and idealism. The doctor had no idea about the laws of economics that now ruled the world in general and the functioning of this hospital in particular. Burgar did not want to dismiss her, but neither did he feel resigned to accept contempt from her.

Reluctantly, Dr. Semonova put down the medial journal she was reading, standing up to shake Burgar’s hand.

“Please, sit down, Mr. Hadiler,” she said, motioning to a hard wooden chair by her desk. But Burgar realized now how cramped and uncomfortable this office was. It was crowded with book shelves. The desk itself was covered with neat piles of papers and journals. The only decoration in the room was a small photograph on the wall of a house in the mountains, a house where Dr. Semonova had spent her summers when she was a girl, before the war. The house had long since been destroyed, and the land was now occupied by Argania, but the memories still lived, albeit dimly, with Dr. Semonova. The faded photo caught the eye of Burgar, who walked over to the photo, examining the picture closely.

“Beautiful. Very beautiful. Are you from that region?” he asked.

“My family had a small cottage there. It was my grandparents’ place originally.” Dr. Semonova realized that having family from that area could mean that she also had Arganian blood flowing in her veins. Even Dr. Semonova, who disdained all forms of politics, realized this could create unpleasant consequences for her. And yet, she had an instinctual and awkward habit of honesty.

“Interesting. Well, I really can’t stay. I am interested, as you know, to better understand all the departments of this hospital. I think I can better understand your situation here, after actually seeing this department. It seems, in fact, that your facilities are in very good shape. You have some new furniture out there in the hall. Freshly painted walls. All you need is several of these portraits. Art, I think, should inspire people to do their best. It should offer positive examples. How can your patients reach their potential, if they do not have such positive examples before them?”

Dr. Semonova felt her insides shake as she restrained herself from an angry response. In fact, the new furniture and fresh paint was fine, but in fact the operating budget was inadequate and would continue to be inadequate. For the most part, the staff depended on the payments from the families of the patients. If a patient had no family, then the diet for that patient would likely be a thin potato gruel three times a day, supplemented with bread. The availability of necessary drugs was uneven, and a drunk that happened to land in the ward at an unfortunate time when the drug supply was exhausted might suffer painful and dangerous withdrawal symptoms.

“Yes, it’s very nice of you to paint the lobby. We appreciate that. And I appreciate you taking the time to bring me this catalog. I will immediately determine where would be the most appropriate place for a portrait of our president.”

Burgar smiled broadly. He was pleased, like the dog who has forced a rival to roll over into a submissive pose. He felt no animosity toward this pitiful old woman now.

“Good. I think you can find several places for portraits. It would be better if you did. I think, in fact, we have a nice portrait that would fit right there,” he said, pointing to the spot where the photo of Dr. Semonova’s childhood refuge hung.

His eyes met hers, searching for any faltering in her submission. But she nodded, after a moment of silence.

“Yes, I think you are probably right. I will see if I can find something that would fit.”

At least he listens to his mother!

2010-02-10T04:52:00.000-08:00

This article seems a little bit absurd, but that does not mean that it isn't true. The president of Chechnya - who has been implicated on some very strong evidence of repeated and savage violations of human rights - sued officials from human rights groups who had the temerity to imply his involvement in crimes of torture, rape, and murder.

(One of these murders was that of a human rights activist last year, as discussed in earlier postings.)

Now - he is dropping his lawsuits. Why? Because his mother asked him to. So - the fellow - who runs his fief with an iron fist & is implicated in all these crimes - still listens to his mother.

It's kind of sweet.

Kind of weird.

I still think learning foreign languages is a good idea

2010-02-09T05:58:00.000-08:00

The Times has a piece about new translation software being developed by Google. The software could be used to in mobile phones to transform them into translators. Google already has a system to translate text on computers. (I use it - and it's not great but no mechanical translator is. Most of the time, it gives you a quick & dirty translation that gives you the gist of the text.) The company also has a voice recognition system that allows people to speak commands into phones rather than typing them in. Combining the technologies could allow Google to create software to understand a caller and then translate it into a synthetic version of a foreign language.

Fortunately, it will probably be a few years before the software is ready for market. So, one of my remaining marketable skills still has some value.

For now.

Kremlin's friend wins in Ukraine, but democratic process could cause problems

2010-02-09T04:03:00.000-08:00

The author of this article makes a very good point. Yes, Russia's preferred candidate won the election in Ukraine, yet the election he won stands in sharp contrast to recent heavily-managed elections in Russia. Will Russian's care that their Slavic cousins to the west have experienced a democratic presidential election? Some Russians tell me- "But we do have democracy at the local level." This local-level democracy, however, is inevitably limited by the fact that processes by which national leaders have been chosen in national years is anything but democratic. (It reminds me, in fact, of the apologists for autocracy of the tsar, when people could point to the local level zemstvo or the mir as examples of local democratic processes and autonomy. In reality, however, the autonomy was not grounded in law and was subject to the caprices of the tsar and his administration.)

One of the statistically significant factors in predicting whether a nation will be democratic is its contiguity to other democracies. So, if Ukraine is successful in holding its tenuous grip on democratic institutions, Russia's oligarchs and their patrons might just have reason to worry.

Nina Khrushcheva on Putin, Medvedev, and the Russian State

2010-02-07T18:53:00.001-08:00

Very interesting interview!

Chapter Three

2010-02-05T11:03:00.000-08:00

Buna was angry. Her head was not clear enough to know much more than that – but she was angry. She didn’t really know where she was. She didn’t know who this woman was. She didn’t know why she was talking to this woman, or why she was dressed in this absurd, thin dressing gown, but she knew she was angry. She was angry, and her head hurt.

Buna was not aware of the large bandage on her head, or the dried blood that clotted in her hair. She was arguing with main doctor in the hospital that she should leave immediately, because her children needed her at home. She was aware that she had no children, but she had thought about these non-existent children, and the one young daughter who died so soon after birth, that they had achieved some measure of reality.

“Who is going to feed them? Answer me that!” she snapped at the doctor, her voice hoarse and unsteady, despite her anger.

Tatiana Semonova, an angular woman with hair dyed an unnatural shade of red, was the chief doctor at the psychiatric ward. She had worked at the hospital for 30 years. She never liked alcoholics or drug addicts, and at this point in her career she felt a positive revulsion toward them. This woman with an ugly head wound was about 24 hours away from her last drink. The only reason she was not now shaking with the delirium tremens was because of the strong tranquilizers that had been injected into her with the greatest of difficulty two hours ago. From the way Buna was acting, Tatiana considered that another dose of tranquilizers was necessary.

“If you tell me where you live, we will make sure that your children are cared for. But you are in no condition to go out on the street. We simply can’t allow it. Do you know where you were when we found you?”

This question baffled Buna. It did not make her less angry, but it distracted her. No, she didn’t know where they had found her. As in all blackouts, she really had not the slightest memory of where she had been prior to this very unpleasant current moment, sitting here, with an aching head, a terrible thirst, arguing with this stupid woman.

“I was at home. I was minding my business, when you took me here. You had no business taking me here. I was not bothering anyone. You took me away from my children! Who is going to care for them? They will be calling me. Yes, they need me.”

In fact, Dr. Semonova was uncertain of the children’s existence. They might, in fact, need this poor specimen of humanity. The thought depressed her. That a woman could abandon her children to drink in such low places, with such vile companions. The hospital workers had collected Buna from the city jail in Baku. It was some sort of miracle, really, that the workers at the jail had cared enough to call the hospital because they were concerned about the gash in Buna’s head. In fact, the wound bled a lot, but it was not very deep. As far as the people in the jail could determine, her head was cut when she fell on the floor, fighting with another prostitute in the bar.

Fortunately, the two hospital orderlies that Dr. Semonova had summoned finally knocked once on the door and entered. One of them had the syringe loaded with diazepam.

“Now, I really need to get some work done. You will go back to your bed and rest until you feel better. Then we can talk about getting your children some care. But – at this moment, we simply cannot release you. You are a danger to yourself and to the public in your condition.”

Buna felt two firm hands grab her shoulders and lift her from her chair. Her anger had been spent, and she allowed herself to be guided back to a rickety metal bed with rubber sheets. The hands grasped her arms, holding her tightly as a needle pierced her skin, shooting her with another tranquilizing dose. It hurt, but not much. Her head hurt.

“Water?” she asked.

Someone handed her a thick plastic cup, and then took it from her when she had drunk. She put her bandaged head back on the pillow case that was stained from blood that had seeped from her wound. She began to breathe more deeply, and soon fell into a dreamless sleep.

Let's not be offensive!

2010-02-02T09:11:00.000-08:00

As we learn from a recent RFE article, the journalists from Yeni Musavat are the latest members of the press to come under pressure in Azerbaijan. While the journalists aren't under fire from the government, the source of their problems is damn close. The president's brother - Jalal Aliyev - said he was offended by an article an article that claimed some unfinished buildings in the capital belong to him. The article also maintained that no one complains about their incomplete status because they're owned by the president's brother.

Makes sense to me - but Jalal is offended by this assertion.

I'm reminded of a few things.

1. The many construction sites all over Baku - sites that grew like mushrooms, in defiance of any understanding of the law of supply and demand. Who was going to live in these luxury apartments? Everyone just assumed that construction was some not so secret way of money laundering.

2. The conversation I had with a newspaper editor in the country, not long after I moved there. In our conversations, at a certain point he referred to another newspaper being owned by the family. I asked "what family?" "The family," he informed me, was the term referring to the president's family. It's not like the president himself owned all that much - but rather the holdings were like some sort of large & extended business.

So - his brother is in the family & he owns a bunch of buildings.

Surprised? I'm not.

Good book, but I can't get it.

2010-01-29T19:42:00.001-08:00

While looking around Open Democracy tonight, I came across a post about a new book: Small Change: Why business won't change the world. It's by a former executive at the Ford Foundation, and it presents his case that the belief that a business- oriented approach by non-profit enterprises is seriously misguided. He makes a good case, and the book looks interesting.

Unfortunately, I see in the book details that it's not available in USA. Perhaps because Edwards' point of view isn't what the Yanks want to hear.

Chapter Two

2010-01-29T15:39:00.000-08:00

The conversation with Gunar had sapped some of Emin’s enthusiasm for his work, but the poster at March 20 Square was much smaller and less enthusiasm was required. Emin had finished his task by mid-afternoon, and he was ready for a nap. But the thought of going back to his empty apartment depressed him, so rather than catching the bus to his neighborhood, Emin walked to the apartment of an English couple near March 20 Square. Julia and Robert Atherton ran a small charity that served indigent children in Berde. Not all the indigent children, but the indigent children of the Azeris who came to the weekly church services, held in a nearby factory.

Emin first visited the services about a year earlier, after finding one of the church’s brightly-colored advertising brochures. “Find a new life!” the brochure exhorted. As it happened, he found the brochure not long after Buna had begun a drinking spree, so he was worried and sad, ready to consider some suggestions for a new life. The church service was like a musical show, with singers and a small band. The preacher spoke for about 15 minutes about the need to follow God’s law, but the service was dominated by relentlessly cheery anthems about God’s law. Emin felt strangely warmed by the atmosphere, and he continued to go, even after Buna returned. He had made a few friends in the congregation, and even sold a few of his paintings to a member of the church.

Buna didn’t like the church much, but she went with him a few times, chatting with the cheery Athertons. Her English was much better than his, but she did not make friends with the church members.

“It’s easy for them to be so cheerful,” she remarked after one church service. “Here they are – with a nice apartment paid for by that church. They’ve got a maid. They’re rich here. So, of course, they are happy, clapping their hands and singing. But I don’t feel cheerful and I’m not going to lie about it.”

Emin saw her point. But he also liked being around people who were cheerful, who believed that the future held something wonderful, even if that future was very distant. And Julia Atherton seemed to be genuinely concerned for him, offering to pray for Buna and him. Emin wasn’t sure exactly what her praying meant and how it would help, but he understood that she was concerned for him. This in itself made visiting the weekly services worthwhile.

The Athertons lived on a quiet street, close enough to walk to the downtown, but far enough that the neighborhood was quiet. Even the air seemed cleaner here. Emin rang the doorbell, and while he waited for an answer, he looked at two birds eating cherries in a nearby tree. The birds had it easy, he thought. Eating what was in the trees or on the ground. Not worrying about politics or romance or jobs.

While he was contemplating this fact, the Atherton’s housekeeper, Liza, opened the door. A thin, gray-haired woman, Liza looked older than her 47 years, especially since she had her teeth pulled earlier in the year. She was still waiting for a set of false teeth, and had been assured they would come before the Heymar Alidev’s birthday party. In the meantime, she had mastered the art of eating without teeth, although her speech was still not very clear.

“Hello, Emin,” she said. “What brings you here?” “I was working on a job in the square,” he answered. “So I thought I’d stop in to see if Robert still needed that room painted.”

Liza told him Robert was at the children’s center, but Julia was home. Emin followed Liza back to the courtyard, where Julia was brushing her teeth with an electric toothbrush by an outdoor sink. She was wearing shapeless sweat pants and a loose smock, and her wet hair hung around her shoulders. Yet, she seemed completely unembarrassed to see Emin, even happy to see him.

“Oh, hi. Just a minute,” she said, over the whirr of the electric toothbrush.

Emin felt awkward looking at her while she performed what he considered a private matter of personal hygiene, so he walked over to the small rose garden in the courtyard. The Atherton’s also had a gardener who to take care of the flowers twice weekly, and the touch of an experienced gardener was evident. The old flower blossoms had been nipped, the bushes had been expertly pruned. Only a few weeks ago, Julia had allowed him to take a few blossoms from this garden, and he had taken them home to Buna, pleased to give her something beautiful. Of course, she knew that he had not bought them, however, and she considered the flowers to be a gift from the Athertons, people she disliked. She had thrown the roses out the following day, when Emin was at work.

Julia approached him as he was observing a pollen-dusty bee fumble within the petals of an open rose blossom.

“Liza says you are here about the room?” she asked.

“Yes. I told Robert that I would do it, but we never agreed about when. I was in the neighborhood, so I thought I’d stop by to talk to him about it.”
“He’s at work,” she said.

“Oh.”

“You knew that.”

“I forgot.”

“It’s Buna, isn’t it?”

Emin had to turn away, because he feared her look of pity, feared to express the emotions that were so close and raw. She took his hand, and pulled him toward her, holding him in a wordless embrace. He did not cry, but he began to breathe again.

“Emin, let’s pray.”

He let her guide him to a spot in the garden that English couple evidently used for this purpose. A small cross stood in a circle of daisies. Julia took two cushions for the chair in the garden nook, handed one to Emin and kneeled in front of the cross.

“Dear Father. Please bless us with your heavenly love. In the name of Jesus Christ, who died for our sins, please guide us in your divine wisdom. We are nothing without you. We need your rod and staff to comfort and guide us. Please, guide Buna back into the light of your love. Please, show her the way home and apply the healing balm of your love unto the bleeding heart of your servant Emin. Please forgive them for their sins. They have doubted your love. They have wandered far from your path. Take them back, relieve them of the bondage of faithless ways. Bless them with the blood of your son Jesus Christ. Amen.”

Emin softly repeated “amen” after her, and they remained there on their knees for a few minutes, listening to the birds and the wind in the trees. As they remained there, silent in the garden, Emin realized that he really didn’t believe in God.

This was not a bleak realization for him. The late spring air still smelled sweet. The birds didn’t stop singing. But he couldn’t believe that Julia’s prayers had any significance beyond some sort psychological meaning for her. And he felt no need to share his realization with Julia. So, after they had sat quietly together in the garden, he politely excused himself. Julia said she would keep praying for Buna, and Emin thanked her. She hugged him again, and Emin enjoyed that, just feeling some of her closeness. He no longer felt like crying.

Последнее интервью Натальи Эстемировой

2010-01-27T05:00:00.001-08:00

The interview is in Russian and the sound quality is not so hot - but it is valuable to hear this Natalya Khusainovna Estemirova explicitly describe what she has found in her investigations, how the authorities running Chechnya were implicated in horrible human rights abuses. Looking into these matters is dangerous, as was proven when this courageous woman was abducted and murdered on July 15, 2009.

As far as I know, the investigation into her murder has completely stalled - if indeed there were ever any effort to find her killers. Everyone really knows who pulled the strings. Ramzan Kadyrov, the president of Chechnya, had earlier threatened Ms. Estemirova. The Kremlin is quite content to let him rule his fief as he sees fit - even if his rule means murder, rape, and brutal oppression for the inhabitants of Chechnya.

You can find other material like this at Кавказкий Узел.

Chapter One

2010-01-24T13:16:00.000-08:00

About a year ago, I wrote a long story - as opposed to a short story. It reflected various thoughts and impressions - material that was not appropriate for the formal reports I wrote during that time. It is copyright protected material - and it is all my own. There are definitely resemblances between the characters in the story & people who are living. In fact, sometimes I would describe a character - and then meet that actual person not long after. Very strange. And there are resemblances between real places and the fictional places in the story. But I did not want to sacrifice a larger truth for the sake of trying to make every detail strictly accurate. Hence - names of places and people have been changed. I hope in some ways the story is amusing or illustrative or at the very least interesting.

Here is Chapter One. Chapter Two will follow - in about a week.

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Chapter One

Emin Husadzev took a moment from his job to enjoy the sunrise. He was perched on a 20-foot ladder, pasting a large poster of the president’s father onto a billboard that towered above the central square of Berme, a small provincial city of Azanistan.

On June 21, the sun was rising early, and an orange light suffused the square, reflected from the pavement still wet from last night’s rain. At this hour, few people were driving, and the only sound was the scrape of straw brooms on the sidewalks. Three women wearing saffron-colored smocks and bright headscarves swept the pavement clean. This was the ideal time for Emin’s work, with enough light to let him apply the posters neatly, but before the streets were busy. Ideally, people should have the impression that the images on the billboards naturally stayed fresh and new, that they were somehow self-replicating, not dependent on human hands. This morning, even the poster of Heymar Alidev seemed to glow in the light of the orange dawn, adding life to an image that had grown flat from repetition. All the residents of Azanistan long ago had become inured to his visage, because posters of him and of his son decorated every public space in the country. But Emin took a professional pride in his work, and while he knew the posters were not art, he tried to apply them with professional care. He was certainly not ignorant of the repetitious nature of posters, plastered on walls, posted by highways, hung in schools and offices. Emin had held this job for the last year, so he knew every small feature of the father and son – the squinting eyes and thick eyebrows of the father, the indolent gaze and slight smile of the son.

The poster of Heymar Alidev now smiled into the sunrise, and Emin smiled too, admiring his work. He had applied the poster smoothly, with no wrinkles marring the surface. The presentation of the posters be especially important now, because birthday celebrations for the president, who died five years earlier, were planned for the next week.

“Hello, Heymar,” Emin addressed the dead president. “You are looking fine this morning.” All that remained was to paste the inspirational quote from the Heymar Alidev at the bottom of the poster, and this billboard would be complete.

“The Azani people draw strength from unity!”

Emin unraveled these words and applied them at the bottom of the poster, climbed down the ladder, gathered his tools and walked down the still empty streets to the main square for some tea.

Few people were drinking tea in the Pines Café at this hour. Other than tea, the café served small soda cakes, but they were usually stale. The regulars just drank tea. Emin took a table by the window, and in a few moments Pavel, one of the waiters, came over with a small pot of tea and a cup. He put them on the table in front of Emin, and then sat down opposite him.

“Has she come back yet?” he asked.

“No.”

The question was direct and uncomfortable, but the two men were friends, and Emin knew that Pavel’s intent was always good, even though his style was usually rough.

Pavel, one of Emin’s few friends, was one of the handful of Russians who remained in this city after the country declared its independence from the Soviet Union, A former newspaper editor, Pavel now waited on tables because his newspaper had been closed by the government, and no other newspaper would hire him now. He was a good editor, but a terrible waiter, always forgetting orders and spending too much time chatting with customers. But Gunar, the owner of the café, kept him employed, because long ago he had a schoolboy’s crush on Pavel’s mother.

“She didn’t call?” Pavel asked.

“No.”

“She’s not at Zamine’s?”

“No, I’m pretty sure about that.”

“What are you going to do?”

Emin took his cup of tea, blew on it softly, and watched a taxi impatiently race by a soot-spewing city bus.

“I don’t know.”

Emin’s wife, Buna, had disappeared, again, two weeks ago. Buna hadn’t disappeared for at least six months, and in any case it was unusual for her to stay away for two weeks. When Emin married Buna 10 years earlier, she had been strikingly beautiful, with piercing dark eyes, and the body of gymnast. Her years of drinking had since taken their toll. Her eyes were now not so bright, and her forehead bore the scars of her falls. But she still had a certain magnetism, so once she started drinking, Buna would start to act as if she were again the young courtesan, charming her male admirers. Of course, she was no young courtesan, and her male admirers were more likely to be rough middle-aged truck drivers than charming young men. And, once she started drinking, she completely lost control, finding herself in dangerous and compromising positions. Once, she had awoken from a blackout and found herself in a small hotel in Russia. That had been six months ago, and Emin had nearly divorced her at that point.

After that experience, Buna had agreed to stop drinking for awhile, and even went to a new church in Berme, where the kind members of the congregation prayed for her soul. Emin began to hope that they could begin to love again, and in fact they had sex not long before she disappeared. But one day, he came home from his job, and he knew right away, she had gone. There was no note, no physical sign. She could have been at her job in the laundry, but he knew the truth. She had gone.

Emin tried not to worry about her, but of course he did. When the church members had learned that she was gone again, they told Emin they would pray for her, and Emin prayed for her too, but it felt mechanical and empty. And when he prayed for her, he found himself imagining her in the arms of some strange man, and he felt dirty. It was less painful just to not think of her.

Pavel and Emin sat in silence, looking at the city square as the streets began to fill with morning traffic. A small gang of beggar children was bothering the people who wanted to use the nearby money exchange booths. Women were already carrying large bags loaded with fruits and vegetables back from the bazaar, located a few blocks south of the café. They were old friends, and could sit indefinitely in silence together. Their contemplation was interrupted, however, as Gunar entered the café, slamming the door. He sat down noisily beside Emin. Pavel hurriedly got up, avoiding Gunar’s angry eyes, and bustled back to the kitchen.

Gunar had pulled strings to get Emin his job, and ever since then considered that Emin was indebted to him. Gunar was, in fact, annoyed that Emin seemed to have forgotten his debt to the café owner. Emin, who was trained as a painter, had been unemployed for more than year, depending on his wife’s meager salary as a seamstress when Gunar’s friends in the New Freedom Party told them that they needed someone to put up posters of the president and his father. Every town and city already had posters that graced every public space, but these posters naturally needed to be replaced periodically. It would be disrespectful to depict the Presidents Alidev with tattered or dirty posters. Furthermore, the party leaders were certain that further opportunities for publicizing the President and his father existed. They would always exist. New places could always be found for new billboards. So Emin was hired as part of a small regional team that was assigned the task of replacing the old or decaying posters and finding places for new posters. He was given the title of “national artist,” although very little art was required in the application of adhesive to flat surfaces.

“I saw the new one this morning,” Gunar said. “Very nice. Very nice. You are a true artist.”

“Thank you. Yes, I like it too. It’s bright and cheery. The flag in the background is inspiring. And the quote too. I’m putting up another one up in March 20 Square, later this morning.”

“Good, good. I like your work. You should be proud of yourself, turning your life around. Doing something useful.”

“Thank you,” Emin said. “And thank you for helping me.”

Gunar grinned.

“I am happy to help. Our nation needs everyone. It needs everyone united, working together,” he said.

Emin turned to look at Gunar’s fat and satisfied face, but he could think of no reply. When he was working, Emin was able to separate himself from the goal of his job – the indoctrination of the population. But here in the presence of Gunar, that objective was all too palpable. Everything about Gunar - his meticulous thin moustache, his sour cabbage odor, and thick rings on his fat fingers – disgusted Emin.

“Yes, speaking of work, my next task awaits me,” Emin said. “I want to finish the installation at March 20 Square before noon.”

“Of course. Of course,” said Gunar. “By all means.”

The heavy man rose to his feet, and turned to the kitchen, where Pavel was chatting with the cook.

“Pavel, you worthless socialist! There is a dirty table here! Come here!” Gunar shouted.

Pavel was cleaning that table when Emin left the café, but he looked up to smile and wave goodbye.

Clouds on the domestic front

2010-01-21T19:13:00.000-08:00

A considerable quantity of liberal and progressive teeth are being gnashed in the USA this week. First - the results of the Massachusetts special election on Tuesday night - which gave the victory to Republican candidate Scott Brown. Nothing particularly remarkable about the man, from what I have heard, but the victory is particularly disturbing for progressives because:

1. It's seen as a repudiation of Obama's domestic policies.
2. Brown's victory makes passage of health care reform legislation much more difficult.
3. This happened in Massachusetts, in a special election to fill the position formerly held by the late Sen. Ted Kennedy. And Massachusetts is supposed to be liberal!

But - quite a few people didn't get that memo. Brown won the election decisively.

Tuesday's news was bad enough. Today's news, if anything, was worse. The Supreme Court effectively struck down a law that had limited the amount of corporate cash that could flow into elections. The US election system is already awash in corporate cash. This will just open the flood gates.

Our government was essentially owned by corporations already. I suppose this will just remove whatever fiction remains about our democracy. "The Pledge of Allegiance .... sponsored by Coca Cola and Wal-Mart."

I am an optimist, so I am hoping that an effective response will be mounted to this destructive decision by the US Supreme Court. This group is starting a petition drive to devise a legislative remedy to this very real threat to what remains of our democracy.

Don't forget imprisoned bloggers!

2010-01-17T07:47:00.000-08:00

There is a tendency for the attention given to travesties of justice to peak at the time of a trial, and then to decline after a court has apparently decided to level an unjust verdict. Naturally, when a trial is ongoing, the hope is that the world community can somehow influence the people pulling strings to show mercy and commonsense. This did not happen, of course, in the case of Adnan and Emin, convicted last year on trumped up charges. But just because the two bloggers and activists are sitting in a jail in Azerbaijan is no reason to forget about them. To the contrary. So, I was heartened to read here about demonstrations planned at Azerbaijani embassies in London and Paris next week. Great! The Azerbaijan government must know that they cannot quash dissent with impunity. There are consequences. The government sits comfortably on oil revenues but they should know that they will never have the respect of the world community as long as they repress their own people!

Good suggestion from Craig

2010-01-16T08:38:00.001-08:00

I don't think that Rush will donate a cent - but it's a nice thought.

Not holding my breath on this suggestion

2010-01-15T10:43:00.000-08:00

So, the head of the Moscow Electoral Commission is suggesting to re-make Russia's electoral system. To "start over from scratch,” according to Ekho Moskvy.

I completely agree that the entire electoral system needs to be re-made. Just like the judiciary system in Russia needs to be completely reconstructed. Is it realistic, however, to expect that the foxes will voluntarily leave their position at the door of the hen house?

Any bets on how long Valentin Gorbunov holds his current post?

US conservatives hate Europe

2010-01-11T02:45:00.000-08:00

This seems like a blanket statement - and OK - it's meant to be provocative. But I think it's true as a rule. US conservatives look at Europe as an example of the social democracy that they abhor. It's worse - because it seems to work pretty well in many places of Europe.

Jim Manzi recent column about the comparative growth rates of Europe & the US is one example of the attitude espoused by conservatives here. It's a piece rife with factual inaccuracies - a perfect example of attempting to make data fit pre-determined conclusions. He would receive an "F" in any economics class.

Paul Krugman's column fortunately explains why Manzi's argument is completely flawed. Nonetheless, one can count on the US press - owned by conservatives, by and large - to give broad publicity to a completely fallacious argument.

Victory on the chessboard

2010-01-06T09:51:00.000-08:00

Militarily, the stalemate between Azerbaijan may Armenia continues, but Azerbaijan was yesterday celebrating a victory over Armenia in the World Chess Championships.

Congratulations to Vugar Heshimov (2759), Teymur Recebov (2733), Shehriyar Memmedov (2741), Rauf Memmedov (2640), Qedir Huseynov (2614) and Nicat Memmedov (2610), members of the Azerbaijani chess team.

The games are being played in Bursa, Turkey.

What does history say about vodka price hikes?

2010-01-04T12:32:00.000-08:00

Beginning Jan. 1, the minimum price for vodka in Russia is nearly doubling. What will this mean? If history is any guide, it means that the regime in the Kremlin will become less popular. More people will die or be sickened by home-brew, usually called samogon. The government probably will collect more tax revenues from the sale of booze.

But will the price increase diminish the level of alcoholism? That's doubtful. The treatment of alcoholism requires a spiritual aspect. I believe that one reason that alcoholism afflicts Russia so is that the country is still recovering from the Soviet legacy, which insisted on a materialistic perspective. Most people familiar with recovery from addiction or alcoholism recognize that the individual unaided cannot recover from his dependence. A group or a therapist can help - but real recovery results from reorienting the individual, encouraging the growth of a spiritual life within that individual.

I doubt that this is part of the Kremlin plan.

What does unrest in Iran mean for Azerbaijan?

2009-12-27T11:11:00.001-08:00

I read this article today, and thought about the implications of the unrest in Iran. Consequences are unpredictable. Will government opponents in Azerbaijan see the tyrants fall in Iran, and think about their own tyrants at home. What about the economic consequences - as a huge oil producer faces domestic unrest? What about the repercussions in countries that are dominated by Muslim fundamentalists? Potentially, the fall of the regime in Iran could affect any number of political and economic equilibria.

Recycling, even in Russia

2009-12-17T07:45:00.000-08:00

I came across this piece today on the BBC site. Just a look at a huge problem. I don't think there is anything inherently "Russian" about the problem of implementing a system for recycling waste - except the old Soviet mindset that tended to externalize real costs. Resources are not limitless and the environment can not be exploited endlessly. Western countries deal with this mindset too - an attitude that dies hard.

What do you think about climate change and Copenhagen?

2009-12-10T15:02:00.001-08:00

Here's yet another survey to probe readers opinions about current issues of the day.
Click here to take survey

Russia cannot afford its smoking habit

2009-12-10T12:06:00.000-08:00

RFL/RFE has a good article about a problem that is not new but merits more attention from journalists and policy makers. Everyone knows about the problem with alcoholism. Less discussed is the problem with smoking in that country. I'm not sure it was worse last year when I lived in Moscow than when I moved to St. Petersburg more than 10 years ago. Probably the quality of cigarettes is different. It more rare to see people smoking papirosi - especially in cosmopolitan Moscow & St. Petersburg. But the "Western" style Marlboros and Camels are just as deadly.

The problem with drinking is evident. Its signs are as clear as the drunk you need to avoid in the metro. Nicotine addiction is much more insidious. Its costs are not so immediate - but they are just as real and the threat to Russia is just as serious.

Daunting, complex, and of primary importance

2009-12-10T06:32:00.000-08:00

Mikhail Gorbachev and Aleksandr Likhotal have an article out today in the European Voice. Gorbachev needs no introduction. Likhotal is president of Green Cross International and a member of the Climate Change Task Force (CCTF).

The column is fine - and I agree with its essence - about the importance of achieving real progress to address the problem of climate change. But the authors make an interesting point that highlights just how difficult the problem is. Understandably, they make reference to the critical issue of nuclear disarmament.

"In 1985 during the height of the Cold War, when negotiations were bogged down at the US-Soviet Union Geneva Summit, the negotiators were instructed by their leaders annoyed by lack of progress, “we do not want your explanations why this can't be done. Just do it!” And it was done by the morning. Today's leaders must come to Copenhagen and say, 'We want this done!'"

This is fine - but the analogy is not so apt. In comparison with the climate change talks, the bilateral negotiations between the USA & the USSR look almost simple. We had two principal actors in the negotiations. There were tangential economic issues, but they were not driving the argument against nuclear disarmament. The issue of reparations or compensation did not exist. The arguments about the certainty of scientific predictions were not relevant.

It's enough to make you nostalgic for the Cold War!

Economy as a science

2009-12-07T10:41:00.000-08:00

This afternoon I came across this news blurb on ITAR-TASS. Funny. A big conference where more than 1,000 papers on the Russian economy will be presented. The fundamental problems of the economy are not so mysterious or technical. Excessive reliance on raw materials, especially oil & gas. Corruption. And a lack of democracy that allows this corruption to survive and even thrive. The problem is not knowing the technical problems of the Russian economy. The problem is getting the people who benefit from the current state of affairs to relinquish their privileges for the sake of the country as a whole. It's a mess. I wish them every success - but it will take more than conferences to fix Russia's economy.

Day of Mourning in Russia

2009-12-07T10:19:00.000-08:00

Russia has declared a day of mourning for the victims of the nightclub fire in Perm. This tragedy has had a big impact on the country, which has suffered so many disasters in its long history. Is the proximity of the coming New Year's celebrations a factor? Perhaps. Some first person accounts of the tragedy can be found here.

Power of the bloggers

2009-12-07T07:27:00.000-08:00

This is an apt comment from an Azerbaijani artist. You don't need to understand Azerbaijani to get the point. The power of the state versus bloggers trying to discuss the problems of their country openly.

Afghanistan

2009-12-02T08:44:00.000-08:00

How do you feel about the new policy announced by President Obama last night? Here's your chance to offer an opinion.

Humor

2009-11-29T10:46:00.000-08:00

Yes, that's right.

I don't write much humor here - because writing humor is not my talent. It's not that I don't have a sense of humor, but writing humorous material is about the most difficult assignment I know. I'd rather perform maximum likelihood estimation equations.

But - just because I don't write it, doesn't mean I can't present it here. This afternoon I was looking at the website of my friend Jonathan Caws-Elwitt. He's a multi-faceted writer. He does write humor. Here's a link to part of his website.

Enjoy!

Artistic Interlude in Atlanta

2009-11-28T15:39:00.000-08:00

I travelled to Atlanta, GA, last week for the first time in 13 years. When I was in that city in 1996, I was impressed by 1. the heat, 2. the traffic, 3. the urban bleakness. I was in the city on business, and didn't know a soul there. This time, I was staying with friends, who showed me some interesting neighborhoods. Here's some of the art I found out and about . . .

Who Fears a Free Mikhail Khodorkovsky?

2009-11-20T16:26:00.000-08:00

The New York Times asks this very sensible question in this article to be published in the Sunday NYT magazine. The answer to the question might seem obvious - the people who fear Khodorkovsky are the same people who imprisoned him. Putin & Co.

Perhaps another question might be so obvious. Namely - "What does it matter?"

In my opinion, it matters quite a lot. I don't have strong feelings about Khodorkovsky the man. I've never met him. From what I've read, he is a man of strong will & character - who followed a familiar path toward amassing his billions of dollars. In other words - he used connections & some unscrupulous means to get his fortune started. All the oligarchs did.

He differed from the rest, however, in that he tried to stay & fight Putin & Co. Obviously, he badly misjudged his foes.

All this matters for Khodorkovsky, obviously, as he sits in his prison cell. But might not be so obvious is how it matters for Russia. As long as he sits in jail, we cannot possibly talk about the rule of law in Russia. We cannot talk about a level playing field for doing business. All this matters for Russia because without a functioning legal system and a predictable environment for investors, economic development in Russia will continue to be quite shallow. The country can continue to live off its oil and gas revenues, but this is not a growth strategy. If Russia is going to develop economically and politically, Khodorkovsky must be freed.

What do you think?

2009-11-18T17:51:00.001-08:00

After a long hiatus, I've decided to start polling the public again. If you've been reading these pages at all regularly, then you are familiar with the case of Adnan and Emin.

Here is a poll about their situation, and about the political climate in Azerbaijan generally.

Shame on the government of Azerbaijan!

2009-11-11T02:48:00.000-08:00

The sentence of Emin Milli and Adnan Hajizade should not be a surprise. Two years for Adnan; two and a half for Emin. Everyone knows that the the government of Azerbaijan is not afraid to jail journalists. In the last 10 years, the government has jailed numerous courageous journalists and even has been implicated in their deaths. What that government does fear is its own people. The government of Azerbaijan fears its own people because it abuses them. This is the reason for the harsh sentence for two young men who were guilty of promoting democracy in a country where this concept endangers those in power.

I am not optimistic that there will be some reprieve for Emin and Adnan, although such events occur. This allows the president to act magnanimously after the kangaroo courts have done their work, intimidating journalists.

And I am not optimistic that pressure or reaction to the sentence from Europe or the United States will be able to sway the government of Azerbaijan toward leniency in general. With this decision, the government put its repressive stance on the record. For the rulers of Azerbaijan, control of Azerbaijani citizens is much more important than any sense of justice. To any casual observer, the case against these two young men is clearly evident as a farce. It was a show trial, but the government of Azerbaijan is not ashamed to conduct such travesties. Such procedures have nothing to do with justice, truth or fairness. They are about naked power and intimidation of the populace.

I write these lines before dawn in the United States. At this hour, the weather here is dark and rainy. Though the day is later in Baku, it is much, much darker there.

Yet more repression in Moscow

2009-11-07T10:06:00.000-08:00

The author of this interesting post suggests that Western leaders are still hoping for signs of liberalism from Medvedev. I hope that they are not so naive - but I suppose that it's possible.

The post itself is disturbing. Two more human rights organizations coming under pressure from Russian authorities. Nothing really new, over course. But these two organizations are quite prominent, and the fact that the authorities move against them with such impunity is discouraging.

The screws tighten even on the faithful

2009-11-05T10:56:00.000-08:00

Radio Liberty has a small piece today about what seems to be a minor request by the authorities in Baku: Turn down the call to prayer!

Many of those who have lived in Azerbaijan and other Muslim countries know this sound - in the morning and the evening most notably. I remember being awoken by the electronic muezzin in Lenkoran at what seemed to be an ungodly hour. I was staying near the Iranian-supported mosque, which may have explained its volume.

In Baku, I rarely noticed the muezzin, although I lived right next to the Old City.

I find it very hard to believe that the authorities are responding to any complaints for residents. The idea that authorities would respond to citizen complaints in general is just laughable. They are asking for the mosques to turn down the muezzins in a direct expression of power. They are asserting their dominance over the religious establishment. Religion should serve the state. Those who are involved with religious matters should not forget this fact.

Gas glut?

2009-11-05T04:57:00.000-08:00

This morning I saw this article in Financial Times about the world forecast for gas supplies. I have nothing personally against the billionaires in Russia, but I think the more their power is weakened, the better for Russia, the better for democracy in Russia, and the better for the world in general.

Thinking about the media and governance

2009-11-04T03:09:00.000-08:00

This morning I was reading this amusing and disturbing column by Maureen Dowd, and I was thinking about a conversation I had a couple of days ago with my students in the class I teach about ethics.

I had given the students a reading assignment, and after I re-read the material myself, it seemed that there was not much to discuss. But - of course - this is not usually the case, and even here I was able to take what seemed to be unpromising material and turn it into a substantive discussion. The column the students & I read concerned observations of a newsman on coverage of a political campaign. He opined that journalists should just get out of the way. Enough with the puffed up opinions!

Why is it, I asked the students, that the trend is to more & more partisan coverage of the news? Consumers on one hand have an increasing number of news outlets, but the news that is presented tends to be increasingly partisan. And how does this trend intersect with the journalistic responsibility to provide information necessary for democratic governance? (I think this is the responsibility of journalists because I am a democrat and I am a journalist.)

I made reference to the work by James T. Hamilton and Markus Prior, two scholars whose work I greatly admire. The work of both concerns this very question - how the media is becoming increasingly partisan and what the impact is on the media audience. Frankly, I think that I lost my students when I began talking economic theory, upon which the work of Hamilton in particular rests.

The conversation turned out well. One student admitted that she loves watching Glenn Beck because he is "hysterical." I agreed that he is hysterical, but I didn't think this psychological condition was an asset. My point was that this increasing partisan media system is harmful, leading to increasing cynicism, voter apathy, and general disengagement from democratic governance. At the end of the class, I asked who hoped to be involved in government in any way.

No one raised a hand.

Poland's shame

2009-10-24T10:54:00.000-07:00

I saw this piece by Radio Free Europe yesterday. A shameful piece of pandering by the Polish government. I wonder what other quid pro quo was involved. I used to think that such symbolic honors were empty, but now I think they do have some significance. Every element that lets a repressive government claim legitimacy is important. A repressive government should be faced constantly with reproach for its repression. It is only through such consistent pressure that incremental change is possible.

EU calls on Russia to explain trade plans

2009-10-15T04:31:00.001-07:00

European Voice: EU calls on Russia to explain trade plans

Shared via AddThis

To me, this is not very surprising. Russia does not want to be bound by the restrictions that would come with full membership in the WTO. Negotiations have been ongoing for more than a decade, but membership in the WTO would hamper the Kremlin's ability to use its domestic subsidies for domestic political purposes.

Old habits die hard. How necessary these subsidies are may be questionable, but clearly the government thinks they are needed as a lever to maintain power and control within the country.

Smuggling and activism frowned upon in Russia

2009-10-13T11:17:00.001-07:00

I prefer not to think of my perspective as jaded. But often events can appear so completely predictable. A few weeks ago, I wrote about the concerns that the municipal elections in Moscow would be rigged. Human rights activists were concerned about this, and quite a few protested, according to news reports. "Quite a few," of course, is a relative term. Considering the inherent risks of any sort of anti-government protest in Russia at the moment, anything more than half a dozen qualifies as quite a few.

About 50 activists were arrested by police. Predictable. And now comes word that they are still being held. Also predictable.

Slightly surprising was word about the arrest of Valentina Shadrina.

The director of the Altyn jewelry company was accused of smuggling precious stones and jewelry. Since its start in Kazakhstan, the company has developed an international chain of jewelry stores favored for low prices on jewelry.

It's hard to believe that someone would have forgotten to pay off the necessary official, so the arrest could indicate some power shift within the FSB.

Finally, on an idealistic note, the St. Petersburg State University has organized a contest for young journalists. The Russian language details are here. The suggested themes of the contest are: "helping senior citizens, homeless children, former prisoners, cleaning trash, volunteering during the Olympic Games in Sochi in 2014, healthy lifestyle and others."

Nothing too much objectionable, assuming that the pieces are written "correctly."