Page 176 of Heads You Win

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“But perhaps my approval ratings would also be around four percent.”

“I’m glad you raised that,” said Nemtsov, taking a slip of paper from an inside pocket, “because we’ve conducted some private polling, which showed you are currently on fourteen percent. However, twenty-six percent didn’t even recognize your name, and thirty-one percent haven’t made up their minds yet. So we were encouraged. If you were to come to Saint Petersburg and officially announce your intention to stand, I have no doubt those figures would change overnight.”

“I admit I’m torn,” said Sasha. “Only last week The Times said in a leader that if Labour were to win the next election, which looks highly likely, I could well be the next Foreign Secretary.”

“And after hearing your performance in the House this afternoon, and your grasp of so many subjects, frankly I’m not surprised. However, I would suggest that president of Russia is a far bigger prize for someone who was born and raised in Saint Petersburg.”

“I agree with you,” whispered Sasha, “but I can’t afford to let my colleagues know that. Besides, I’d need to be convinced that I have a realistic chance of success before I’d be willing to give up everything I’ve worked so hard for.”

“That’s understandable,” said Nemtsov, “but we won’t really be able to evaluate your chances until we know who your main rival is.”

“But you were the vice premier,” said Sasha, “why don’t you stand?”

“Because my poll ratings aren’t much better than Yeltsin’s. However, with my backing, I’m convinced you can win.”

“It’s good of you to say so. But Vladimir could still prove a problem. After all, he was deputy mayor of Saint Petersburg, and won’t like the idea of me standing for president.”

“You needn’t worry about Vladimir. He left Saint Petersburg only minutes before he would have been arrested for embezzlement of public funds. He disappeared off to Moscow and was last sighted in the Kremlin.”

“Doing what?”

“Rumor has it that he’s working closely with Yeltsin, but no one’s quite sure in what capacity.”

“Vladimir’s only interested in one thing, and that’s becoming director of the FSB.”

“Who did they think they were kidding when they abolished the KGB and it reemerged later as the Federal Security Service? The same bunch of thugs doing the same job, even in the same building,” Nemtsov mused. “But if Vladimir was to pull that off, you would be wise not to make an enemy of him. In fact if he was on your side, it might even help your cause.”

“But if he was on my side,” said Sasha, “it could only harm my cause. I couldn’t hope to achieve anything worthwhile with him continually looking over my shoulder. In fact the very changes I would want to make as president, he would be vehemently opposed to.”

“But in politics,” said Nemtsov, “you occasionally have to compromise—”

“Compromise is for those who have no courage, no morals, and no principles.”

“You don’t have to convince me, Sasha, that you’re the right man for the job, but first we have to get you elected.”

“I’m sorry to be so negative, but I wouldn’t want to become president only to find that someone else was pulling the strings.”

“I understand. But once you get the job you can cut those strings. Remember, there is no power without office.”

“Of course you’re right,” said Sasha. “And I’ll let you know as soon as I’ve made my decision.”

“Do you have any idea when that might be?”

“It won’t be much longer, Boris. But there are one or two people I still have to consult before I can make a final decision.”

“Surely your mother must be pressing you to stand? After all, your father certainly would have wanted you to be president.”

“She’s the only one in the family who’s one hundred percent against the idea,” said Sasha. “She’s a great believer in a ‘bird in the hand’…”

“I don’t know the expression,” said Nemtsov. “And what about your wife?”

“Charlie’s sitting on the fence.”

“Now that’s an expression every politician in the world is familiar with.”

Sasha laughed. “But she would back me if she felt I really wanted the job, and believed I could win.”

“What about your daughter?”


Tags: Jeffrey Archer Historical