Committee for Russian Economic Freedom

San Jose Mercury News
By Jamison Firestone
Special to the Mercury News
Posted: 06/23/2010 08:00:00 PM PDT

Russian President Dmitry Medvedev visited Silicon Valley this week in hopes of wooing executives to invest in Russia. But as high-tech leaders think through the pitch, they might want to consider what could happen when their Russian investments are up and running.

I am a member of the New York Bar who’s served on the board of directors of the American Chamber of Commerce in Russia for the past six years and managed a law firm in Moscow for 17 years. My firm represented the largest foreign investor in Russia, Hermitage Fund, which once had more than $4 billion invested there.

In 2007, officials from the Moscow Interior Ministry raided my offices and my client’s offices and took all of Hermitage Fund’s statutory documents and seals. Even the Russian government now concedes in Moscow court filings that those documents and seals were then used to fraudulently re-register the companies into the name of a convicted killer. A criminal group subsequently applied for a refund of the $230 million of taxes that the Hermitage Fund paid in 2006. The payment was granted in one day, no questions asked. It was the largest tax refund in the history of Russia, a country where even the smallest refunds take months, if not years.

Hermitage hired five law firms to report the thefts and recover the stolen companies. In the two years that followed, I personally witnessed Russian officials implicated in the crimes attempting to arrest every lawyer who was involved in the investigation or reporting of the thefts. In a classic case of Kafkaesque absurdity, two of Russia’s most famous and respected lawyers were criminally prosecuted for reporting the theft. They fled the country.

third respected corporate lawyer, my partner Sergei Magnitsky, refused to flee Russia because he thought the law would protect him. He testified against the corrupt officials. One month after his testimony, he was arrested by the very officials he testified against. The next day, they tried to arrest three more lawyers, all of whom fled Russia.

Magnitsky was kept in pre-trial detention for 12 months and was tortured to get him to withdraw his testimony, but he refused. On Nov. 16, 2009, Magnitsky died as a result of torture at the age of 37, leaving a wife and two young boys.

Since then, it became public that the same group of officers and criminals had been accused of similar crimes in the past. It was also discovered that immediately after the thefts were reported, the officers’ families acquired millions of dollars in assets.

Like many people, I find Medvedev confusing. He speaks about fighting corruption, building rule of law and fostering investment, but Russia’s level of corruption continues to increase. Silicon Valley may see him as the first Russian leader to surf the Web and use e-mail, but television news still is under state control, and independent journalists, human rights activists, businessmen and now their lawyers are arrested and killed with impunity.

I would like to believe that Medvedev is sincere. But he has done nothing to bring Sergei’s killers to justice, to find the stolen government money, to help my client recover its companies or to stop the attacks on lawyers.

What happened to my client can happen to anyone doing business in Russia, and no law firm in the world can defend you in a land without law. Large companies that were sure they would have government support, like Shell, BP, Carrefour, Telenor and Ikea, were left to the wolves. In each case, the Kremlin either attacked or allowed corrupt officials to attack foreign investors that bought into the same pitch you just heard.

Caveat emptor.

JAMISON FIRESTONE is managing partner of Firestone Duncan, Moscow. He wrote this article for this newspaper.

Los Angeles Times
The government is building a Russian version of Silicon Valley. But the Kremlin’s Big Brother approach, along with lawlessness and corruption, leaves entrepreneurs wary of taking risks.
Leon Aron
June 23, 2010

Having survived — barely — an 8% contraction in its gross domestic product (the worst among the G-20 countries), Russia’s prospects for the next few years are iffy at best. Unless oil shoots back up to more than $100 a barrel, the country’s economy may grow only slightly — or stagnate for the next few years.

In response to its economic woes, the Kremlin has decided that what Russia needs is the equivalent of a Silicon Valley. And so the government is building “Innovation City” in Skolkovo, just outside Moscow. The project is envisioned as a kind of free entrepreneurial zone, aimed at attracting the best and the brightest from Russia and abroad. The Kremlin has appropriated $3.5 billion to build the “technopolis” — a gated community surrounded by guards

This is hardly a new strategy. Importing ideas and technology from the West has been a key element in Russia’s “modernizations” since at least Peter the Great in the early 18th century. For two centuries, Russian leaders followed in the czar’s footsteps, including when Stalin implemented his five-year plans. But Russia has tightly controlled what it imported. Machines and engineers, yes. A spirit of free inquiry, a commitment to innovation free from bureaucratic “guidance” and, most importantly, encouragement of brave, even brash, entrepreneurs who can be confident they will own the results of their work — most certainly no.

Peter and his successors sought to produce fruit without cultivating the roots. During the 17th and 18th centuries, this approach could be seen in the Nemetskaya sloboda (German district), where foreign craftsmen lived but Russians were not allowed lest they be tainted by foreign influences.

When national economies were defined by the amount of pig iron, steel and coal they produced, a serf or a worker with no rights would do. They could cast Peter’s cannons and pour concrete for the plants of Stalin’s industrialization. But only a man or woman free from fear and overseers can build a Silicon Valley.

And such men and women are harder and harder to come by in Russia today. Disgusted and scared by the lawlessness and rampant corruption, they tend to shy away from ambitious plans and avoid taking risks.

To be fair, President Dmitry Medvedev, who will visit California’s Silicon Valley this week, is aware of the problems and says all the right things about the need for liberty, private property and a spirit of unfettered innovation. He speaks of the importance of the rule of law. But after two years in power, he is losing credibility, and his words are wearing thin. “How are things, really?” I recently asked a top Russian entrepreneur, having made sure that no one could hear us. “Poka ne trogayut,” he answered. “They are not after me yet.” Hardly an environment for an innovation-driven business model.

Paralyzed with fear and uncertainty, Russian entrepreneurs are investing very little in their country beyond their immediate production needs. Up to 80% of investment in Russia today comes from the government. Capital flight is rampant. Worse yet, according to recent research, some of the most successful Russian entrepreneurs, not satisfied with merely sending their children to live and study in the West, increasingly think of selling their businesses and leaving themselves. At the very least, almost all are building their lives and business around the “two-home” model: one in Russia, one in the West.

Today’s atmosphere is a far cry from the end of the 1990s and first few years of this century. Then, with the worst of the rough-and-tumble, raw and crude capitalism behind it, Russia seemed as if it would soon be capable of forging its silicon valleys. State power seemed to be finally detaching itself from property, and top Russian entrepreneurs, newly confident of their property rights, began to invest billions of dollars to create companies every bit as modern, efficient and open as the leading Western conglomerates. With their profits, they donated millions to charity, promoted computer literacy and Internet availability and invested in a “knowledge-based” economy.

One company and its entrepreneurial leader stood as symbols of the new business environment: the oil company Yukos and its chief executive and principal owner Mikhail Khodorkovsky. Today, the company is no more. It was taken over by the state for alleged nonpayment of taxes, broken up and sold at rigged actions to the state-owned Rosneft. Convicted by a kangaroo court on charges of fraud and sentenced to eight years in prison after his 2005 trial, Khodorkovsky today is in the middle of another farce of a trial, accused of stealing 350 million tons of oil from Yukos’ subsidiaries.

The road to a Russian Silicon Valley starts not in California, Mr. President. It begins with unlocking the door to Mikhail Khodorkovsky’s jail cell.

Leon Aron is director of Russian studies at the American Enterprise Institute.

EDITORIALS
Wednesday, June 9, 2010

RUSSIA’S GOVERNMENT has calculated that it needs better relations with the West to attract more foreign investment and modern technology, according to a paper by its foreign ministry that leaked to the press last month. Prime Minister Vladimir Putin has recently made conciliatory gestures to Poland, while President Dmitry Medvedev sealed a nuclear arms treaty with President Obama. At the United Nations, Russia has agreed to join Western powers in supporting new sanctions against Iran.

Moscow’s new friendliness, however, hasn’t led to any change in its repressive domestic policies. The foreign ministry paper says Russia needs to show itself as a democracy with a market economy to gain Western favor. But Mr. Putin and Mr. Medvedev have yet to take steps in that direction. There have been no arrests in the more than a dozen outstanding cases of murdered journalists and human rights advocates; a former KGB operative accused by Scotland Yard of assassinating a dissident in London still sits in the Russian parliament.

Perhaps most significantly, the Russian leadership is allowing the trial of Mikhail Khodorkovsky, a former oil executive who has become the country’s best-known political prisoner, to go forward even though it has become a showcase for the regime’s cynicism, corruption and disregard for the rule of law. Mr. Khodorkovsky, who angered Mr. Putin by funding opposition political parties, was arrested in 2003 and convicted on charges of tax evasion. His Yukos oil company, then Russia’s largest, was broken up and handed over to state-controlled firms.

A second trial of Mr. Khodorkovsky is nearing its completion in Moscow, nearly a year after it began. Its purpose is transparent: to prevent the prisoner’s release when his first sentence expires next year. The new charges are, as Mr. Putin’s own former prime minister testified last week, absurd: Mr. Khodorkovsky and an associate, Platon Lebedev, are now accused of embezzling Yukos’s oil production, a crime that, had it occurred, would have made their previously alleged crime of tax evasion impossible.

Mr. Khodorkovsky, who acquired his oil empire in the rough and tumble of Russia’s transition from communism, is no saint, but neither is he his country’s Al Capone, as Mr. Putin has claimed. In fact, he is looking more and more like the prisoners of conscience who have haunted previous Kremlin regimes. In the past several years he has written numerous articles critiquing Russia’s corruption and lack of democracy, including one on our op-ed page last month.

Mr. Obama raised the case of Mr. Khodorkovsky last year, and the State Department’s most recent human rights report said the trial “raised concerns about due process and the rule of law.” But the administration has not let this obvious instance of persecution, or Mr. Putin’s overall failure to ease domestic repression, get in the way of its “reset” of relations with Moscow. If the United States and leading European governments would make clear that improvements in human rights are necessary for Moscow to win trade and other economic concessions, there is a chance Mr. Putin would respond. If he does not, Western governments at least would have a clearer understanding of where better relations stand on the list of his true priorities.