Analysis: Political apathy fuelling Russian crisis

For more than a month, Moscow has been boiling in 40-degree heat and eye-burning smog. Carbon monoxide levels have reached crisis levels, at six times the maximum allowable concentration.

In early August, a journalist called the office of Moscow's mayor, seeking comment. "The office is closed," a woman at the press office answered, adding that smog had got inside the mayoral building, so everyone was ordered to go home. This was a weekday, shortly after lunch. "Is it possible to get a comment from Mayor Yuri Luzhkov?" the reporter asked. "He is not in Moscow," the woman replied.

At the same time, a doctor from a local hospital was writing on his blog: "It is a disaster. There is no air conditioning in the hospital, no ventilators working, smog is penetrating everywhere, including the emergency room's operating theatre. Each day, 16-17 people die. The morgue is full, and there are not enough refrigerators for the dead - they just put bodies along the walls."

Indeed, according to the Moscow City Health Department, the death rate has doubled over the past few weeks. And yet Moscow's mayor chose to remain on holiday outside the country, only returning reluctantly.

One wonders what would have happened if Mr Luzhkov needed to face re-election - his term expires in October 2011. Would he have allowed himself such a break while his city was being ravaged by heat and toxic smog? Of course not. But neither Mr Luzhkov, nor whoever may replace him, must worry about voter approval, as the Kremlin appoints Moscow's mayor, rather than allowing free and fair elections - a practice instituted a few years back by then-president Vladimir Putin for all such important positions across Russia.

Another example of this is the Nizhniy Novgorod region, just 250 miles east of Moscow, which has been hit hard by the heatwave and fire. At least 36 people, including seven children, have lost their lives in this region, and more than 1,000 people have lost their homes.

Rare candid footage of prime minister Putin, displayed on government channels, depicted him visiting one of the towns in the region. People who had lost their homes, clothing, and everything else were complaining to Mr Putin that the regional and local government did not warn them that the fire was coming. There were practically no fire engines. In many towns and villages, there was no electricity, so water pumps were not operable. "No0one even tried to save us," they wailed to Mr Putin, who was accompanied by regional governor Valery Shantsev.

A week later, an inauguration ceremony officially began Mr Shantsev's second term in office. Like all other Russian governors, he was not elected by those who live in his region.He was appointed by the president, and thus bears no accountability whatsoever to those he is supposed to serve.

The fires in the European part of Russia have destroyed 190,000 hectares of forest. Forestry specialists blame a carelessly enacted 2007 law that cut 90 per cent of forest guards. The law was proposed by the government and quickly passed by the Duma, where Mr Putin's party controls two-thirds of the votes.The legislation was passed without any second thought.

Russia's burning summer underscores what political scientists everywhere acknowledge. Authoritarian regimes are dreadful at coping with anomalous situations. By controlling the mass media the leaders lack the ability to envisage and calculate possible risks.

Unfortunately, ordinary Russians have yet to connect the dots: the tragic situation stems directly from how they voted. The political apathy that characterises today's Russia presents a serious challenge to the country's survival.

l Yevgenia Albats is professor of Political Science at The Higher School of Economics and editor of The New Times Magazine.