by Boris Zubry
In the early 1990s, the Soviet Union had collapsed, and the Soviet influence was no more. The Russians could not afford it, and the rest of the Republics could not afford anything. The socialist approach did its dirty deed, and everyone became equal, equally poor. The redistribution of wealth, income equality, and the general mismanagement of everything brought everyone down to the bottom. Everyone needed help, and no one was offering any. Aid ceased overnight while the Soviet strongmen were tearing the country apart. The ex-Communist Mongolian People's Revolutionary Party (the MPRP) gradually yielded its monopoly on power to the Democratic Union Coalition (the DUC), which defeated the MPRP in a first free national election in 1996 in a landslide. That was the first truly free election ever since the revolution that ended the Chinese rule. People had to say something, and they did. For the first time in the history of Mongolia, people had the right to express themselves and not being punished for that. They had the right to speak and to assemble and not to be imprisoned for that. That was something so unfamiliar, so unusual that people were perplexed. How does it work? No punishment? That was the foundation of everything before. Yet, that was a very happy change in their lives that promised a fantastic future at last. Good things could happen now, and it was worth fighting. Since then, the parliamentary elections returned the MPRP to power in 2000 and produced a coalition government in 2004. Strangely to say, but it worked so far.
“What a distinguished assembly,” announced President Vagabundi entering the room and smiling. As always, he was dressed impeccably in a dark Italian suit that was probably worth a yearly salary of the average Mongol, not that one could easily get a suite like that in Mongolia. One had to have money, connections, and access to the right goods. One also had to be able to travel and to the right places. Italy was nice. Money was in short supply in Mongolia, and barter was quite widespread and often preferred. Two-three hundred American dollars a month was a good take home at the time in the region. The cost of everything was going up like the happy yeast was working overtime. Yet, the pension after working for at least twenty-five years was only forty-seven dollars if it was paid at all that month. Eventually, you got your pension but not always when promised.
“What’s the occasion, brothers? What else happened I don’t know, and you are all concerned about and suddenly on the same side? Have some tea. Kumis? Do you want breakfast? I have eaten already, but what about you, people? Anyone, anything?” He looked around and met no smiles or an expression of good feelings. They were hungry but not for food. What was it? Something definitely happened, and they needed his help or his approval. This would not be a leisurely morning.
“Talk, Prime Minister. Please. Why are you here? Why are we all here? Is it a war, an epidemic, a natural disaster? Chinese? Russians? Us?”
This miserable day started for the president somewhat too early and not promising anything good. At two o’clock in the morning, he was rudely awakened by a little Chihuahua dog named Batu Khan, biting him in the ass. This dog was his wife’s pet for a few years already, and she always took him everywhere she went, but not this time. This time, dog, Batu Khan, (what a name for a little dog with a huge ego) stayed home with him, the President. His wife, Bolormaa, went to see her mother, his mother-in-law. She did it every few months staying there with her mother for a few weeks at the time. Her mother would not come to visit them in the palace. She was too proud for that. That was the Mongolian pride that shaped so many mistakes and problems over the centuries yet, it kept the nation together through the turmoil times.
Come to think, was there a time in the Mongolian history that was not troubled? When? The history books had never mentioned that. Was it in your book? It was not in mine. Anyway, President’s mother-in-law was one of these people who went back to the steppes to enjoy nature and to rediscover the ancient roots. Now, she was living in a Yurt and had a few horses, camels and sheep. She also had a few servants assisting her. She was a noblewoman with a lot of money and could afford a few servants and almost anything else. That was like a small village of ten-twelve Yurts in the middle of nomad land. It was interesting that the main Yurt, the centerpiece of the settlement, was of the golden color. Did it mean what it used to mean? Was it a statement of some sort? If it was, that was a very ambitious statement in the country full of very ambitious people. Also, the mother-in-law called it the Golden Sarai that, made some people smile. Well, she could afford it, the president always thought with a thin smile, being the richest woman in the country and maybe a few other countries as well. She could’ve been the richest woman of a few countries even if you put them together.
Her husband, during the Soviet times, was a Minister of Internal Affairs with all associate services reporting to him. He was appointed to the position by the Soviets in about a year after Leonid Brezhnev took over the Kremlin in a putsch and he left the post in about six months after Leonid Brezhnev died. He left the position only because he also died. That was unfortunate, but it happens even to the influential people. What can you do? Otherwise, he would’ve stayed there for eternity. That was one of the best spots to be when the times were good and especially when the times were bad. He was useless as a Minister but extremely useful when it came to bribes. He served with Brezhnev during the Second World War and was the only Mongolian Brezhnev knew or remembered. So, by appointing him to that post, Brezhnev created a friend who would serve him loyally and to the very end.
President’s father-in-law was the most loyal to the Soviets member of the Mongolian Government inner circle. Leonid Brezhnev knew it and let his ministry run free. What bad could they do? The free running agency in any government language meant possible corruption, and in Mongolian, it meant only corruption. Anything could be discussed, and anything could be arranged for the right price, and the price could be paid in many different forms, including the money. Prisons were almost empty and business, both legal and illegal, was booming as never before. It was a good thing, and many justifiably attributed it to the Ministry, of Internal Affairs and its fearless leader. He was the most corrupt Minister of the most corrupt ministry of the most corrupt government in the Socialist Bloc, and that was an accomplishment by itself. Not too many ministers could claim that, and they all were corrupt. How else could you survive the incorruptible corruption of the socialist system? That was the trick in itself. President’s father-in-law was getting very rich, but he never forgot to share with the comrades. That was the deal he never broke. He was considered trustworthy, and everyone liked him. He was friendly, for a price, and that’s for sure. But, he was no more. The good times for the family could’ve been over if not for the President.
That was the time for the Soviets to collect the last tributes, cut the losses and leave, and they did. Brezhnev and his cronies, for example, were always getting gifts worthy the Great Mongolian Khans and some of the internationally admired museums. Concubines, slaves, adventurous hunting, wild parties, the Mongol style, and the beautiful golden tents were always stored away for the Soviet visitors, and they came. They came as often as they could and habitually, in droves. After all, Mongolia was not the only part of the empire fighting for the privilege to pay tribute to the Soviet Politburo. And, the Soviet leaders were all for fairness and why not. In the socialist camp, everyone had a fair chance to recognize the authority and to pay the tribute. That was the right way for those who received and for those who paid to play. Timing, quality, and quantity of gifts were crucial if one wanted to be on the right side of the Soviet masters.
Mongols had the experience, and they continually did it right. It was always a pleasure for the topmost Soviet authorities and the people of trust to visit the Mongolian brothers and to discuss some of the pressing issues. There usually were some pressing matters to discuss. They discussed the problems, and they celebrated the results of discussions, and they took the gifts, and they went back home to recuperate and to get ready for the next round of discussions. “Discussions” with the Mongols had an exhausting nature, and they t
ook time and the strengths. The Soviet leaders, time after time, were pressed to take a vacation, even a small one, after visiting Mongolia with its vast reserves for discussions. Thankfully, everything was friendly, most of the time. Frequently, they went for this badly needed vacation to one of the resorts in another friendly country, somewhere by the sea, river or a lake. It was always somewhere where the weather was as good and friendly as the government was. Doctors often advised doing exactly that. The work of the leader could be quite tiring, and what do you do then. The personal friendship, the relations, between the leaders of the countries was vital for the system of Soviet integration. That’s what counted in the end. One had to be a friend or not to be at all. Was it like in “to be or not to be”? In most cases, that was the question. That is how the Soviet integration worked, to begin with. That was as close to paradise as the socialist system could bring it into being. The leaders would freely give what they would and would take what they could. That was the main driving force and attraction, in addition to the power of life and death, for becoming a leader in any country of the world. Still, most of the leaders in any country of the world could not understand what the citizens were complaining about. Was not it as good for the people as it was for them, the leaders? No matter how hard they worked, people did not appreciate it complaining, criticizing and telling the anecdotes that hurt. What did we do to you? Those anecdotes could offend and badly. They could be true, thus, painful. What about the families? Children… They could link things together. What was wrong with them, people? Everything was done for them, and they just could not enjoy it as the leaders did. Just breathe deep and lay back or bend over when asked or without. Whatever you prefer was good for the leaders. The leaders were on your side. But, people wanted more. Always more. Sorry, there is no more, but we are working on it. Come back tomorrow later. No, people could not understand when enough was enough, but they should. That’s where the big difference between the people and the leaders were. The leaders often knew when to stop, more often than not. There always was another day or night. Yours will be yours. Just move over for now and be, patient. That’s what the leader should learn first and fast.
The President, Arban Vagabundi, became the President with the strong support of this extended family. All of them worked very hard to make it happen, and it did happen. Resources were pulled together, arms were twisted, the resistance removed, and the wheels were greased nationally and internationally. Everyone knew everyone already, and not too many introductions had to be made. This was too important to miss, and they had maybe only one shot at it. The competition of young and restless was growing and fast. So, they put aside the differences and pulled together. This enterprise was not run on a shoestring budget. The budget was the size of the entire country, and it helped when needed or not. And, Arban Vagabundi became the President – one of the most powerful in the history of modern Mongolia, not counting the Khans and the Sultans of the past.
Come to think, the President was not a purebred Mongol. His father was a Mongol though and a Major in the internal security forces, but his mother was an Uzbek. That was not really bad from the Mongolian point of view because, over the centuries, many nations and even small national groups successfully contributed to the genetic pool of the modern Mongols. And, Mongols did it for hundreds of years throughout Asia, Africa and most of Europe, but somewhat more aggressively. So, there was a little bit of a Mongol in almost all of us as well as a little bit of everyone in virtually every Mongol. Would not you say that a Mongol has a universal meaning? More or less and maybe more of more than less. It was like the United Nations in a nutshell, in its singularity. One for all and all for one. Still, the purer Mongol blood you had, the better it was for the optics.
The President’s family on the mother’s side moved to Mongolia from Fergana, Uzbekistan before the Soviet Patriotic War of 1941 - 45. Her name was Gulzara, and her father was sent to Mongolia to build a run an apparel manufacturing factory in the capital of Ulaanbaatar. He started in the early days of Soviet Uzbekistan as a tailor, then an engineer and finally, the factory director. Why was he chosen to go to Mongolia? Well, with slightly slanted eyes, he looked somewhat Mongolian, he spoke Russian, Uzbek and some Chinese and was a respectable professional. Also, he was a member of the Communist Party, and the NKVD (the predecessor of the KGB) said he was in good standing. All that counted for much when the power in charge wanted someone to go to Mongolia.
There were not too many volunteers and none of the professionals and especially, party members with the language skills. The purges did the job and somewhat well. Now, many would claim the knowledge of many subjects, but only a few could demonstrate it. The equality of incompetence was finally achieved. Purges were the best and the most complete job the Party and the NKVD ever had done. Millions in the Soviet Union and the satellite countries were killed or imprisoned, and that affected every family everywhere, taking all these countries down technically, military, intellectually, and economically. The resistance to the government and the free-thinking became non-existent, but the choices of talents were getting more and more limited. No one wanted to stick the head out, not knowingly. It could be cut off, and it often did. But, the job had to be done, no matter what; no matter what the job was; no matter where.
The Soviet masters thought that Mongolia had to have two apparel manufacturing factories (one for men and one for women). There also was going to be two factories to manufacture the undergarments (one for men and one for women). One factory producing shoes and one leather goods factory had to take care of the country needs. They also considered separate manufacturing for children, but that did not go far. The Soviet Union and China were appointed to provide that so, children had less than even adults to choose from.
The administration also wanted to form the rest of industries, but good craftsmen or any craftsmen were in short supply. The steppes were getting empty of free-spirited Mongols, and more people were pressed into living in cities and towns and working in the factories of one sort or another. Hundreds, if not thousands, of the Soviet professionals, were sent to help the “younger brother” Mongolia in the development of socialism. For them, it was a chance to work overseas; thus, more money, including some hard currency and foreign goods. The Russian language was a part of the primary curriculum in every educational institution of the country, and that built a strong foundation for Russification. Thus, Russification was getting stronger by the minute but not prevailing yet. Intermarriage was not readily supported but not forbidden either, so it happened and often. Mongolia was integrated into the Soviet Union without being officially in the Soviet Union. Still, the day was young. Give it a little time, and anything could happen. It could become the new Soviet Republic. Was that on the minds of the Soviet leader? There were some talks and speculations.
Out of all industrial marvels the Soviet Union forced upon Mongolia, only the leather goods were of somewhat acceptable quality and design. Actually, it was desirable by the state members of the socialist bloc, and some of it even was sold for the hard currency. That was big considering the permanent lack of hard currency when it was so badly needed. Well, the rest of it, to say politely, was garbage but that was the trademark of the Socialist camp. Almost everything was Soviet-style – garbage in and garbage out. The stores were empty of the whole shebang, the black market grew exponentially, and all illegal was prospering. But, the prisons were full of amateurish businessmen. Illegal was a very booming business for as long as you kept sharing and did not argue with the powers in charge much. After all, they had the power and could take everything you had but wanted just a small percentage. Still, even Mongolia was slightly better off than the rest of the Soviet Union because of its proximity to the Silk Road and what it offered. The Silk Road provided the means for the goods to be obtained, moved and sold, taxes not paid and money to be made. At the time, it was an excellent place to be.
The Uzbek grandfather of the President, Yosef Galimov, was able to build a proper
factory in Mongolia. Actually, it was a tailor shop, like the one he used to work in years ago, only a thousand times bigger. They designed the garments, cut the material, and sewed the pieces together in the way that someone could wear it one day. It was not very good or even enough for the country, but they still produce it, and that was good. People could buy something in the state-run stores, and the rest of it came from the private tailors and the bazaar. Bazaars had it all and even from the foreign countries. It was expensive, but what choice did you have. Go naked? That would not be polite, and climate did not promote it either. So, everyone had to participate in the “Silk Road activities” in one way or another. That was the bloodline of Central Asia. One would raise and sell a sheep or two a few times a year. Another one was good with the hands. That one could sing and dance, and the neighbor could cook well and for many. Almost everyone could find something extra to do, and that was up for sale or barter. They did not mind working but for money. If you were not too lazy, you could survive and even well. Soon, many people had found the way to make some additional money, and that moved the money around. And, as you may know, what goes around, comes around.
