Siberian smelting pot: Ailing industries victimized by Russia's new rich'We're waiting for some fairness, some little fairness. We're waiting for changes. Waiting, waiting and waiting, and they are not coming,' said one worker.CNN Interactive Correspondent Steve Nettleton is traveling east across Russia on the Trans-Siberian Railroad. His dispatches from towns and cities along the way will report on what ordinary Russians beyond Moscow and St. Petersburg are thinking and feeling during this uncertain time in their nation's history.
ACHINSK, Russia (CNN) -- From his control center, Nikolai Shmarin regulates the temperature of 10 massive furnaces -- each 180 meters (594 feet) long -- where thousands of tons of crushed ore are blasted into superheated silt at a constant 1,200 degrees Celsius (2,192 degrees Fahrenheit). It is a job Shmarin has perfected over 30 years of service. He was among the inaugural crew of workers that brought the Achinsk plant online in 1969. He earned all three degrees of the Communist medal of Labor Glory for his commitment. He could have retired with pride five years ago. But changing politics and a turbulent economy have left him with no savings and a tiny pension of 500 rubles per month ($17.50). "We felt proud before Perestroika. Now we feel we are not needed or taken care of," Shmarin said. "In the old times, there was an idea we believed in. Now there is no idea, no economy, no profit." Casualty of Russian capitalismShmarin's plant is the lifeblood of Achinsk, a Siberian town of 130,000 people, 160 kilometers (99 miles) west of Russia's aluminum capital, Krasnoyarsk. More than 12,000 of the town's residents work at the plant, and the factory's taxes provide for 65 percent of Achinsk's annual municipal budget. It is Russia's largest producer of alumina, the raw ingredient for aluminum, cranking out more than 800,000 tons a year. And it is a vital supplier for the gigantic Krasnoyarsk and Bratsk aluminum factories, the two largest aluminum manufacturers in the world. But after it was privatized six years ago, Achinsk became a casualty of the great property battle that has defined Russian capitalism. As the government opened state-run businesses to investment, wealthy tycoons competing to control Russia's lucrative oil, gas and metal industries snatched up plants across the country. Achinsk watched its revenues plummet and its debt soar. "It's one thing to seize property and quite another to manage it," said Nikolai Ashlapov, chairman of the plant's board of directors. "Some companies with powerful weight are aiming to monopolize a certain sector. We are a product of this struggle." Workers are hurt the most
Unable to pay its bills, the plant went bankrupt in 1996. Under Russia's unique bankruptcy system, Achinsk was placed under "external management," in which an outside official appointed by an arbitration court is charged with returning the plant to solvency. Achinsk has seen two of these managers come and go. The previous one, Nail Nasyrov, is associated with British-based Trans-World Group, one of the major players in the contest to control Russian industries. Now the region's governor, former general and presidential candidate Alexander Lebed, wants to install one of his advisers to oversee the plant. Some are suspicious of Lebed's involvement in the management process. Lebed's successful election campaign for governor in 1998 was bankrolled by Boris Berezovsky, one of Russia's richest men. Companies associated with Berezovsky recently acquired the Krasnoyarsk and Bratsk aluminum factories, and were reported to have bought a sizable stake in the Achinsk plant. This purge and counter-purge of managers linked to tycoons has left Achinsk workers with a sense of insecurity. "It has an effect on morale," said a worker taking a break from his duties at the furnace. "There is always uncertainty when power is shared. When one power is in control, there will be certainty."
When asked if any power would do, he replied, "Yes. It doesn't matter." No betrayal, said one, just inattentionWorkers at Achinsk say some things have improved. Last year they went eight months without a paycheck. Now they are given their $200 a month salary regularly. The plant is also starting to pay off its debt, Ashlapov said. But many workers are disillusioned and bitter about what has happened to their plant. Alexander Anikanov, who supervises the grinding of ore, said the process of privatizing the plant was incredibly unfair. He said even though he, like Shmarin, had worked at Achinsk since its birth, he was given only one voucher worth 10 shares in the plant -- the same number given to every other worker. "I have the right to buy shares openly in the refinery [Achinsk's other factory], but I can't buy from my own plant without vouchers," Anikanov said. Such a small number of shares yielded very little profit, so he sold them. So did Shmarin, who had accumulated 116 shares by gathering vouchers from his wife, children and other relatives. But with owners continuing to change, and with very little return on his investment, Shmarin cashed them in earlier this year. When asked if he felt betrayed by his superiors at the plant, Shmarin hesitated. "Maybe saying 'betrayed' is too much, but let's say zero attention has been given to us," he said.
"We're waiting for some fairness, some little fairness. We're waiting for changes. Waiting, waiting and waiting, and they are not coming." | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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