Autobiographical

Mea culpa again, as I have to turn the page back to some point in summer 1989. The details are blurry as time passes by inexorably. I wanted to show Robin the Soviet Union while it still existed at a time when the country was already opening up to the West thanks to the efforts of the best leader the USSR ever had – General Secretary of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union Mikhail Gorbachev, from 1985 until its break-up. A firm believer in communism, he realised that change was paramount if the country was to survive and pushed through reforms as fast as he could, without risking the wrath of the mostly elderly members of the Politburo, consisting of a collective leadership aged 70 on average at the time of his appointment, but that was to fall significantly during his reign. 

As well as withdrawing troops from the abortive incursion into Afghanistan and seeking to mend relations with the west, Gorbachev implemented domestic reforms, such as glasnost (openness) which fostered a climate of free speech, and perestroika (restructuring) that sought to open up the economy and at make it somewhat more efficient. Above all he liberated Eastern Europe, aware that self-determination would come at some point soon and leveraging the opportunity to facilitate change that would be almost bloodless. As a result, he was able to borrow significant amounts from the West to fund the USSR which was almost bankrupt in part due to low oil prices of USD 25 per barrel.

Gorbachev also implemented an anti-vodka campaign, which was extremely unpopular at home with the public in view of their desire to drink and forget, and all the more so with the Politburo, as it had a negative impact on revenues, given that vodka was the second-biggest revenue generator (vodka production and bottling cost the equivalent of 10 cents, while the product would sell for the equivalent of USD 2.40 and higher when the state was short of funds). Many thanks to the economist and Professor Igor Liptsits for the insight. Apparently, vodka only became a staple of the Russian diet after the revolution in 1917, deliberately introduced by Vladimir Lenin to generate funds and also keep the people docile. At the same time, the measure reduced infant mortality, led to a decline in violent deaths (down 12%), alcohol poisoning, workplace accidents, acute cardiac arrests and suicides, while improving the general health of the population, in particular, the young, and increasing life expectancy. Unfortunately, the impact on revenues would prove fatal.

We had booked a tour of Moscow, Leningrad (now St Petersburg) and Kyiv. The atmosphere was a total contrast to the foreboding and sense of doom I had experienced as a student only five years previously. Our bags were not checked on our arrival at Sheremetyevo Airport. The tour guides smiled and answered openly any questions that we had. The food was also much improved. Presumably tourists were far more important than students! The overnight journey from Moscow to Leningrad was impeccable, with warm tea infused with sugar delivered to your cabin. 

One highlight was an invitation via a couple on the tour to come with them to see friends living in a remote part of Leningrad, which brought to mind a previous experience of mine in Russia’s northern capital. We were fed copious pancakes. The hosts offered us any books or anything else that caught our eye in the property. Materialism appeared non-existent. 

And then you had Moscow. I recall how we were doing a tour of the city on our own when some young Russians came up to us and offered us roubles in exchange for jeans, other clothes, Western cigarettes and chewing gum. They were very positive about the future and naturally keen to travel. However, even though the country was becoming freer, it was still hard to leave. Quite apart from the need to obtain a foreign visa, Soviet citizens who required domestic passports for travel within the country, needed to obtain both a foreign passport and an exit visa to leave the USSR even for a short trip. 

Another highlight was the time we spent at the Kyiv Pechersk Lavra, a major monastery of Christianity, consisting of a labyrinth of caves. We were also struck by the titanium Mother Ukraine statue overlooking the city, which is 62 metres tall, with the figure in question holding in one hand a sword and in the other a shield. The bravery of the people was already there for anyone to see. The food was also excellent.

Shortly before our planned departure back to the UK, Robin and I walked down the famous pedestrian street in Moscow The Arbat, where various goods were offered for sale. I was drawn to a blond, skinny and bespectacled young artist selling graphic works, in particular, one showing an old man with the Pravda newspaper under a light bulb. The irony also derived from the name of the Communist daily as Pravda means truth, another case of double think as the rag was known for the lies it spouted. I bought the work for 20 dollars and cherish it to this day and the start of my collection. The artist Pavel Ouporov was keen to get to know us and invited us back to his place. 

However, we needed to buy some alcohol. We sought out a nearby Beryozka (meaning “little birch”) store. These were small retail outlets, which existed from 1964 to 1990 where the service stood out for being good and there was no need to queue three times as all the products there were sold for foreign currency, which was in short supply back then. We acquired a bottle of French champagne and headed back to Pavel’s flat – his mum’s place, but she was not around at the time. 

While disorganised and messy, the premises were still cosy. We then realised that we should have bought some glasses and more importantly, some food to go with the beverage. We drank the champagne in tea glasses with metal holders, accompanied by Soviet grechka, known in the West as buckwheat. It transpired that he had an American artist girlfriend and that they planned to put on an exhibition soon. We left our details, so that we could correspond. And we did.

We also went to a modern café in Russia’s capital where the food was excellent and the service impeccable, with paintings by budding artists on the wall that you could buy, with the outlet taking a commission. I have always thought that this could be a good business model in the West – promoting local talent, while potentially attract arts enthusiasts driving revenue. And then it was back to London for a short time.

I feel here that I should say a few final words about Robin who has cropped up in this tale. There is so much more that I could add, but maybe another time. I prefer to slip this in now rather than in the timeline on the USSR. 

She was a lovely girl from Minnesota with astounding parents Lee and Ione, a fascinating brother Raleigh and cousin Anne, and played a pivotal role in my life from the age of 21 to 27. She was always more mature than I was. She informed me in a phone call in April 1991 when I was already working in the USSR that I was surplus to requirements. Not in so many words, but that is my interpretation looking back. In a way, even though the timing was not good against the backdrop of the tragic developments that happened in late January of that year, and notwithstanding my flawed attempts to patch things up when I was allowed out of the Soviet Union in the summer, the context was beneficial to me in the long term. Most importantly, she found happiness elsewhere, moving on to forge a successful career in the US. 

However, the major upheavals in my life already commenced towards the end of the year 1990. I suppose this really was a new start.

The graphic work by Pavel Ouporov, 1989.