The Guardian once described it as among “the most explosive documents in modern political history,” but the “Steele dossier” — former British spy Christopher Steele’s opposition research against candidate Donald Trump — has wilted under scrutiny since it was first published in January 2017. Official investigations by the FBI and U.S. Justice Department Special Counsel Robert Mueller either did not corroborate or simply dismissed major claims in the report. The uncertainty surrounding the dossier owes largely to the anonymity of Steele’s sources, though journalists and online researchers have identified several individuals who allegedly supplied the report’s intelligence. Meduza contacted all these people to find out what they actually claimed about Donald Trump, whom they told, and what they think now about their role in a political scandal that still haunts America to this day.
Here’s what we learned, in a nutshell:
In Russia, everyone is used to the fact the government’s position on acute political, social, and even cultural issues doesn’t come from the departments that are supposed to be responsible for these affairs. The Kremlin always has the last word. Oftentimes, this doesn’t mean President Vladimir Putin himself, but rather representatives from his Presidential Executive Office. To get a fuller understanding of what Putin’s administration does, we asked Meduza political correspondent Andrey Pertsev to break down the what exactly the Presidential Executive Office is, the scope of its formal (and informal) responsibilities, and the limits of its influence over what happens in Russia.
The newspaper Novaya Gazeta has published an excerpt from Mikhail Zygar’s new book, “You’re All Free to Go: The Story of How Elections Ended in Russia in 1996,” detailing how banker Vladimir Potanin navigated a Yeltsin administration divided between first deputy prime ministers Anatoly Chubais and Oleg Soskovets. Zygar describes how Potanin convinced Chubais that a private scheme was needed to reallocate Russia’s Soviet industrial infrastructure, taking the economy’s commanding heights from the “red directors” in power when the USSR collapsed and delivering these assets to the emerging business class. Most importantly, Potanin stressed the need to avoid a competitive bidding process, arguing that the country’s fragile economy and precarious situation couldn’t support it. Potanin needed the government’s help to claim Nornickel from its “red director,” Anatoly Filatov.
The “loans-for-shares scheme” was how Potanin and Chubais hid their agenda of reallocating Russia’s biggest industries behind a plan to prop up the government’s enormous budget shortfalls in 1995. Private banks owned by Russia’s future “oligarchs” loaned the state roughly $1.8 billion, secured by sharing in Norilsk Nickel, Rostelecom, Yukos, and several other big companies. Within the next year, when the government couldn’t repay the loans, the bankers claimed their collateral.
After Oleg Soskovets initially blocked their efforts to privatize Nornickel, Potanin and Chubais made an unwitting accomplice of Soskovets by baiting him with the promise of easy, risk-free money in the form of “loans-for-shares.” Alfred Koch, then an official at Russia’s Federal Agency for State Property Management, also vouched for Potanin, which paved the way to support for loans-for-shares from both Soskovets and Chubais — a rare showing of harmony that convinced Prime Minister Viktor Chernomyrdin to sign off on the plan.
In a note before the excerpt from Zygar’s book, Novaya Gazeta says the results of the loans-for-shares auctions sowed distrust not only in oligarchs but also in the institution of private property itself, helping to derail the nation’s liberal-democratic development.
⛸️ This day in history: 38 years ago today, on November 3, 1982, Evgeny Plushenko was born outside Khabarovsk. A four-time Olympic medalist who won a record total of 22 titles on the Grand Prix circuit, he is one of Russia’s greatest figure skaters. He also starred in an adorable commercial for the Spanish lollipop “Chupa Chups.”
Yours, Meduza