Death of a Dissident (28 page)

Whoever got the tape to the Kremlin unleashed a chain of events that became Russia’s Monicagate.

On February 1, 1999, Yeltsin’s chief of staff, General Bordyuzha, confronted Skuratov with the tape and extracted a letter of resignation from him. Late at night on March 16, the tape was shown on Channel 2, with a warning that it was not recommended to viewers under eighteen. The next morning, the Federation Council, the upper chamber of Russia’s parliament, gathered to endorse Skuratov’s resignation, as required by the Constitution. But the vote turned into a humiliating defeat for Yeltsin. Skuratov said that he had resigned under pressure from the president’s staff. In response, the council voted 142-6 to reject his resignation.

Enraged, Yeltsin fired his chief of staff. He called Skuratov, Primakov, and Putin to see him in the hospital, where he was receiving treatment for a bleeding ulcer. He had not been informed about the tape, he said, but under the circumstances he asked Skuratov to go.

Skuratov said that the tape was a fabrication. Yeltsin directed Putin to have the FSB perform forensic analysis to establish its authenticity.

And here Skuratov made a fatal blunder. He told Yeltsin that one of his corruption investigations, involving Yeltsin’s daughter, would be taken care of if the president allowed him to stay. Yeltsin says in his memoirs that initially he did not understand what Skuratov was talking about.

A new prosecutor would find it difficult “to dispose of this complex issue,” insisted Skuratov. And then, seeking support, he turned to Primakov: “Tell him, Evgeny Maksimovich.”

According to Yeltsin, Primakov fell into a long silence, and then said, “If Boris Nikolaevich asked me, I would go instantly. You should go, Yuri Ilyich.”

“You betrayed me, Evgeny Maksimovich,” retorted Skuratov angrily.

It appeared that the two had a prior agreement of some sort. That was the beginning of the end of Primakov—though, oddly, not of Skuratov, who refused to resign.

For eight months, the Kremlin battled Parliament over Skuratov’s resignation. To manage the hostilities, Yeltsin appointed a new chief of staff, Boris’s protégé, Alexander Voloshin. In the meantime, Skuratov dug in his heels, continuing his highly publicized probes, which completely destroyed what remained of Yeltsin’s credibility. The president’s approval ratings fell back into single digits. Russia was slipping into political chaos.

The outside world barely paid attention to the Kremlin soap opera. In the wake of Monica Lewinsky, a sex scandal surrounding a mere state prosecutor was not big news. The only Russian official who made headlines in the West, on March 23, was Primakov, who made a midair turnaround en route to Washington to protest the onset of America’s bombing of Serbia. He became an instant hero among nationalists and Communists.

On March 25 military prosecutors arrested Sasha Litvinenko on a street in central Moscow. He was charged with exceeding his official powers, and causing bodily harm to a suspect, back in late 1997.

Grozny: On March 21, President Aslan Maskhadov survives another assassination attempt. The attack comes two days after a devastating bombing at the crowded market in Vladikavkaz, thirty miles from Chechnya, that killed fifty people. In Moscow, FSB chief Vladimir Putin rejects Maskhadov’s allegation that the attacks are the result of a conspiracy of “certain forces” in Moscow. On March 29, Putin is named head of Russia’s National Security Council, making him responsible for overall Chechnya policy. He retains the FSB directorship.
By April 15, Russia deploys thousands of extra police and troops along the Chechen border. Speaking on Russian TV, the commander of interior troops says that the aim of Chechen separatists is “to create a single Muslim state out of Chechnya, Ingushetia and Dagestan. This will give [Chechnya] direct access to Turkey, a NATO member.”

Even now it cannot be said with certainty who was behind Sasha’s arrest. At the time, the two agencies that handled his case were on the opposite sides of a great political divide: Skuratov’s Prosecution Service versus Putin’s FSB.

Sasha was adamant that it was Putin who delivered him to Skuratov’s dogs. He said that the military prosecutor Yuri Bagraev, who was Skuratov’s right-hand man, was genuinely surprised to see him in custody. Initially after the arrest, low-level investigators handled him. Then at some point, Bagraev appeared in his general’s uniform, walking into the interrogation room. He looked through Sasha’s telephone numbers and could not hide his astonishment.

“Oh, I see Berezovsky, Yumashev here,” he said. “Do you really know them? Are you the guy on TV? Well, well, we have a VIP here.”

“Putin had the power to decide whether to pass my file to the prosecutors or not,” Sasha said. “He always hated me. And there was a bonus for him: by throwing me to the wolves he distanced himself from Boris in the eyes of the FSB’s generals.”

Sasha believed that Putin had initiated his case personally immediately after their press conference back in November.

Putin never made a secret of what he thought of Sasha. In December 1998, he told Elena Tregubova, the Kremlin correspondent for
Kommersant
, “Personally I cannot exclude that these people really frightened Boris Abramovich [Berezovsky]. He had been a target for assassination before. So it was only natural for him to think that another attempt was in the making. I believe that these officers made a scandal simply to develop a job market for themselves…. I fired Litvinenko and disbanded his unit … because FSB officers
should not stage press conferences. This is not their job. And they should not make internal scandals public.”

Years later, speaking in the Kremlin on February 5, 2007, Putin gave a slightly different version: Sasha was dismissed from the FSB “for abusing his position of service, namely for beating citizens during arrests … and for stealing explosives.” These were the charges brought against Sasha after his arrest.

But at that time, everyone believed that Putin had nothing to do with it; Sasha’s arrest looked like a subplot of Skuratov’s overall assault on Boris.

Boris learned about Sasha’s arrest in Paris just as his battle with Skuratov was entering its terminal phase.

On April 2, Putin staged a press conference to announce that the FSB had concluded that the porno tape was authentic. The broadcast was meant to tarnish Skuratov’s image, but it had just the opposite effect, perhaps because of Putin’s exceedingly pious expression; as one of my law enforcement friends observed, “This guy had never been in a hotel with two girls. Not even with one.”

On the same day, Skuratov issued arrest warrants for Berezovsky and Glushkov, alleging that they had siphoned $250 million of Aeroflot money through Andava. Berezovsky responded by saying that the charges were baseless and politically motivated. “The time when the country is run by people with naked behinds is past us,” he told the press. For the time being he was stranded in France with Lena.

On April 21 Boris returned to Moscow to face the music and clear his name. He agreed to cooperate with the investigation in exchange for revocation of the arrest warrant. On that day, Yeltsin suffered another setback when the Federation Council rejected his second attempt to oust Skuratov, albeit with a less humiliating vote of 79-61. Prime Minister Primakov pledged his loyalty to the president. The noose of Skuratov’s investigation was tightening around Tatyana’s neck. The “family” urgently needed Boris’s advice.

The first place that Boris visited upon returning to Moscow was Skuratov’s den, the state prosecution service. He was questioned for four hours, officially charged with “illegal entrepreneurship” and money laundering, and let go—for the time being. TV crews were waiting outside for a live news feed.

“The case against me was instigated by the prime minister in violation of the law,” he said into the camera. “Primakov is in collusion with Skuratov to undermine the president.”

As he drove away, his cell phone rang. It was Chernomyrdin, who had been asked by the president to mediate in the scandal. Primus had seen the news. He was expecting Boris at the White House. He wanted to explain himself.

When Boris emerged from an hour-and-a-half meeting with the prime minister, he was tight-lipped: “We did not declare our love for each other,” he told the waiting reporters. “We discussed the importance of not confusing politics with criminal justice.”

Years later, Boris explained to me what happened inside.

“I give you my word of honor that I have nothing to do with the Aeroflot case,” Primakov began. “Here, I have a copy of the official prosecution file. There is no record of any communication from my office. Let us ask Viktor Stepanovich to be a witness.”

He rang the bell. Chernomyrdin walked into the room.

Boris reached into his pocket and produced a copy of a letter from Skuratov to Primakov detailing the Aeroflot allegations. (Boris would not tell me where he obtained it. “I had my sources,” he said.) Across the page was an inscription in the prime minister’s hand: “Initiate criminal proceedings and bring up charges. Primakov.”

“I don’t believe that I wrote it. Did I really?” Primus was stunned.

“May I go now, Evgeny Maksimovich?” asked Chernomyrdin.

When they were alone, Primakov said, “Boris Abramovich, tell me, what do you want? I have heard that you were interested in the Sber Bank.”