- Print This Post Print This Post

A word about the common, green, wrongly maligned toad. “Don’t play with the toad,” French mothers used to warn their children, “because if he pees in your eye, you will become blind”. The youngsters might have been forgiven for not knowing what to do, because the appearance of the ugly creature was also said to do good, such as bringing rain to crops; and because it was also said that harming the toad would bring bad luck. Then again, country people believed it would provide protection to hang a dried toad’s body at the door to the henhouse and the stables.

Oleg Deripaska, chief executive of Russian Aluminium (Rusal), Russia’s largest aluminium producer, and head of Base Element, which holds his investments in other sectors of the Russian economy, has been feeling wrongly maligned for a long time now. A two-year old lawsuit by smelter rival Mikhail Zhivilo in New York, accusing Deripaska and his associates of illegal tactics in the acquisition of his assets, has been dismissed for lack of jurisdiction. But in all likelihood the case will be returned to the courts on appeal, or refiled. The trouble Deripaska has had with the US authorities preceded the court case, and appears to be persisting, despite the efforts of well-known American lawyers he has engaged to clear him. In Zurich, Deripaska has lost an appeal of an arbitration panel’s award of $90 million to Krasnoyarsk arch-rival, Anatoly Bykov. He faces more of the same in other European jurisdictions. In Frankfurt, lawyers defending Germany’s leading financial newspaper, Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, from a defamation suit filed by Deripaska have turned up more than he can have bargained for.

In Russia, Deripaska can also complain that he’s been wrongly maligned. In Moscow, he is the target of a recent petition to the Kremlin by paper and pulp producers who accuse him of a variety of hostile takeover tactics. His acquisition of the Ingosstrakh insurance company is under investigation by the General Prosecutor. Although he married into the Yeltsin circle, he hasn’t been able to turn his Kremlin connexions to much account in recent months. The four keys to his profit margin in the aluminium trade -electricity, alumina, freight rates, and tolling privileges – have come under serious pressure. His attempts to secure shareholding control or regional political influence over the price of energy to his smelters have been less than effective. His control of the Nikolaev alumina refinery, the supplier of roughly one-third of his smelter’s raw material requirement, is under threat from the government in Kiev, and from an ambitious Ukrainian metals magnate. Rail tariffs have recently been raised 5% or more,and the possibility of special discounting has shrunk. Deripaska was able to lobby Finance Minister Alexei Kudrin to drop his attempt to halt the tax concessions conferred by tolling contracts. But he lost a similar bid in the Ukraine.

Through Rusal Deripaska has made big promises-to build a new smelter in Murmansk, a new bauxite mine in Guinea, a new partnership with the Chinese Aluminium Company, a new metals complex in Australia, a new smelter in western Ukraine – but there is little yet to show for any of them. In the section describing investment plans for the next five years, Rusal’s website lists four priority projects that are quite different, and a good deal less costly. A Ukrainian court recently appointed an expert to take inventory of what exactly has been done at the site of the promised Pervomaiskoye smelter, in order to enable the court to rule on whether Deripaska has broken the terms of the agreement with the Ukrainian government that allowed him to take over the Nikolaev asset.

To the question of why his fellow oligarchs are looking to cash out at least some of their assets, but not Deripaska, the short answer may be that he has looked for a multitude of exits, only to find the way is blocked. He can’t list Rusal shares on the London or New York stock exchanges, because the company’s assets have yet to be consolidated into a single shareholding company. Although Deripaska recently denied that he had made a deal with Roman Abramovich to buy Abramovich’s half-share of Rusal, sources inside Millhouse, Abramovich’s holding company, claim that Deripaska has been making a bid, but lacked the cash to pay the $3 billion sale price outright, and cannot come to terms with other shareholders at Millhouse, who don’t share Abramovich’s desire to cash out of Russia. They may be biding their time for a counter-bid aimed at Deripaska’s half-share of Rusal. Then on October 3, Deripaska turned around and declared he had bought a 25% stake in Rusal from Abramovich. No price or payment terms were disclosed. Deripaska has never revealed the price of any of his transactions, or how they have been paid for.

Borrowing to fund asset takeovers, or to leverage existing assets, or even to pay for production upgrades and expansions, isn’t easy for Deripaska. Although he considers that a current debt portfolio totaling $1.5 billion -including last week’s $100 million loan from Credit Suisse First Boston – is a gilt-edged indicator of his international creditworthiness, he still trails behind his fellow oligarchs in being able to obtain unsecured credits. For every dollar Rusal borrows, international banks want their hands on a metal ingot.

It was therefore noteworthy when Deripaska, on a recent visit to the southeast Siberian city of Irkutsk, announced that he wants to add to his stakes in the region’s Bratsk smelter, a new smelter site at Taishet, and the regional electrical utility, Irkutskenergo. According to his quoted remark, Deripaska said he aims to bid for Sukhoi Log (“Dry Gulch”), the largest unmined gold deposit in Russia, and one of the largest in the world.

Now goldmining would be a first for Deripaska, and Sukhoi Log nothing if not expensive. A few days before his remark, Deripaska had lost out in the bidding for a 45% state shareholding in Lenzoloto, the Irkutsk region goldminer, which has been taken over by Vladimir Potanin’s Norilsk Nickel group at a price of more than $152 million. Potanin would like the market to think that, with control of Lenzoloto, he now has the inside running for the state award of the Sukhoi Log mining licence, which will go up for tender after the presidential election next March.

Deripaska’s announcement suggests that he thinks Potanin may be politically vulnerable, and open to a Kremlin challenge to knock him out of the race. Other declared bidders for Sukhoi Log include Polymetal of St.Petersburg, led by Alexander Nesis; and Khazret Sovmen, former owner of Polyus, Russia’s largest operating goldmine acquired a year ago by Potanin. One thing all of them have already learned – the tender will not be issued by the Minister of Natural Resources, Vitaly Artyukhov, until he learns whom the Kremlin wants to win. And that decision won’t be made until after the election season is behind us.

So Deripaska’s open bid for Sukhoi Log turns out to be a wager that, among the oligarchs and Yeltsin leftovers, he has a better chance of surviving than Potanin. Little wonder Deripaska thinks he’s been wrongly maligned to date.

- Print This Post Print This Post

A notable French medical researcher recently conducted an experiment with the drug Viagra on twelve men, who were helicoptered to one of France’s highest peaks. No women were present.
By itself, Viagra (the brand name for the chemical compound known as sildenafil) isn’t a psychotropic drug, which spurs the brain to sexual arousal. Instead, it is a vasodilator, which stimulates the heart and the circulatory system, so that blood flow is increased around the body. By putting 12 men at an altitude of 4,362 metres, exercising them hard on bicycles and other machines, but keeping them away from women, and hiding the identity of the pills they were taking, the French doctors were trying to determine whether Viagra may open the gate to stopping pulmonary oedemas, and other serious circulatory disorders. The results aren’t in yet. (more…)

- Print This Post Print This Post

MOSCOW – Wars usually start with one large lie. Throwing more troops into the breach requires a great many little lies. Wars usually end when the lying can’t staunch the bleeding, and the stench.

According to the wife of the David Kelly, the British Defense Ministry expert on Iraqi weapons who committed suicide last Friday by cutting his left wrist, and bleeding to death while on painkillers, “this was not really the kind of world he wanted to live in”. But the kind of world prime ministers of England and presidents of the United States hatch, when they go to war together, should have been familiar to Kelly, as he was old enough to remember the Vietnam War. (more…)

- Print This Post Print This Post

By John Helmer

Wars usually start with one large lie. Throwing more troops into the breach requires a great many little lies. Wars usually end when the lying can’t staunch the bleeding, and the stench.

According to the wife of David Kelly, the Defence Ministry expert on Iraqi weapons, who committed suicide last Friday by cutting his left wrist, and bleeding to death while on painkillers, “this was not really the kind of world he wanted to live in.” But the kind of world prime ministers of England and presidents of the United States hatch, when they go to war together, should have been familiar to Kelly, as he was old enough to remember the Vietnam war. The big lie for which Kelly killed himself was no different from the one that created the Tonkin Gulf incident, the invented Vietnamese attack on US warships which purported to justify the first landings of US troops forty years ago. The little lies which Tony Blair and George Bush go on telling, as they too try to land more troops, and fight a guerrilla war, soon to expand into a national liberation struggle – these lies are no different. Not even the methods for feeding them to the press have changed.
(more…)

- Print This Post Print This Post

MOSCOW – The most famous game of Japanese Go ever chronicled was the last match of the 64-year old master, Shusai, and his young challenger, Kitani Minoru of the Seventh Rank. This began in June 1938, and ended, 237 moves and six months later, on December 4. The master was defeated.

To understand how a run of apparently random moves on the Go board became a sequence of fatal mistakes, it is necessary to study the chart of the game, as well as the contemporary commentaries, as retold in a story by the great novelist Yasunari Kawabata, who first reported the match in more than 60 instalments for a Tokyo newspaper. (more…)

- Print This Post Print This Post

MOSCOW – The church is near but the road is all ice, Russian peasants used to say. The tavern is far, but I’ll walk very carefully.

According to a story published recently in the Boston Globe, Andrew Okhotin is a well-meaning young American churchman with Russian origins, who was on his way to deliver donations to a group of Russian fundamentalist Christians known as the Evangelical Christian Baptists. He slipped up at Sheremetyevo airport in Moscow, the Globe reports, in a dispute with Russian Customs officers over US$48,000 in cash that Okhotin was carrying. Okhotin’s version is that he made a mistake walking down the green corridor, when he meant to choose the red. The Customs version is that he was trying to smuggle the cash without declaring it legally. A preliminary investigation by the Russian authorities decided that Okhotin should go to trial in September. Meantime, he is at liberty in Moscow.
(more…)

- Print This Post Print This Post

By John Helmer in Moscow

When Russians gather to drink, they often offer each other a traditional rhyming toast that can be roughly translated as: “May we have more pies and doughnuts, fewer black eyes and bruises!” It’s a formula which Russia’s most powerful businessmen have been quietly offering the advertising-starved managements of some of the world’s leading newspapers, in order to play down, if not deter altogether, investigative reporting of Russia’s corporate malpractice.

The formula usually begins with a black eye or bruise in the form of a defamation writ, served up in London, Paris, New York, or Frankfurt by a well-known local law firm. The pattern began with a suit by discredited and exiled Russian media oligarch, Vladimir Gusinsky, against the Wall Street Journal. It was followed by Boris Berezovsky against Forbes. Mikhail Khodorkovsky, the principal shareholder of Yukos, Russia’s leading oil company, sued the Times of London. Oleg Deripaska, an oligarch who is fighting Anglo American’s paper and pulp interests, is currently suing Le Monde in Paris and Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung in Frankfurt. Mikhail Fridman, a banking and oil oligarch, whose companies are currently being sold to British Petroleum, is suing Les Echos, France’s leading financial daily, and Le Parisien.
(more…)

- Print This Post Print This Post

MOSCOW – England is far too sunless and wet to be able to grow olives. In Nyons, in Provence, where the best Mediterranean olives have been grown since Roman times, the peasants have two bits of advice for olive-growers. Roughly translated, the advice for proper pruning and cutting out of old wood is, “Undress me, says the olive tree, and I will dress you.” The advice for digging the ground and fertilizing around the tree roots is, “Oil my feet, and I’ll oil your mouth.”

When it comes to journalism on Russia, the advice for neophytes is much the same. In the days of the Soviet Union, and in the time of the tsarist censors before that, foreign and domestic journalists learned to protect themselves by writing between the lines – a space that could only be understood by those privy to the code. For a very short time in the early 1990s, all of the pruning and all of the fertilizing that had gone on for years before suddenly produced a bounty of reporting that revealed what had only to be hinted at before. That harvest was brief. The state gave up its property, and the commercial interests that took over the media and now dominate it through advertising applied different arboreal methods. Nowadays, “oil my feet” generally means editorial favors traded for money, delivered one way or another. (more…)

- Print This Post Print This Post

MOSCOW – In 1927, as the benefits of Lenin’s market reforms were fast running out, and the Soviet Politburo debated whether to use markets or force to industrialize the economy, the satirist Mikhail Zoshchenko told the tale of a man who bought a shirt to wear to a party. He managed to find one, he said, “a bit special, some kind of fantasy shirt”, that was bound to “have the ladies throwing themselves at me”.

Because he was a fanatic about cleanliness, and imagined the number of people who had rummaged through his shirt before he had bought it, he sent it off to the laundry. Imagine his shock when, on recovering it and trying it on for the party, he discovered “some kind of tiny shirt: the collar wouldn’t fit, and the cuffs were where the elbows had been”. (more…)

- Print This Post Print This Post

MOSCOW – It is the 300th anniversary of the Grande Chaconne, the dance which Louis XIV, the sun king of France and creator of the splendor of Versailles, regarded as his favorite. Its composer was Marin Marais, the son of a shoemaker in a family of roofers.

By the time Marais first came to Louis’s notice, more than a decade had passed since the king had decided never again to dance himself in the ballets staged by his court musicians and choreographers. Marais’s dances were therefore written to be played to the king, occasionally to be performed in front of him by professional dancers and most often to be played and danced, by the music-reading public in their own homes, outside the royal court. Thus, the Chaconne is intimate and personal on the one hand, stately and majestic on the other. The combination doesn’t appear again in European music or home entertainment until the waltz of the 19th century. As he sank towards his death, Louis asked more and more for the Chaconne to be played to him. (more…)