Moscow Rules

covered it with his hand.
     
     
    “I’ve had quite enough, thanks. Two’s my limit.”
     
     
    Ivan acted as though he had not heard him and doled out a third. The interrogation resumed.
     
     
    “I assume you live in Washington, too?”
     
     
    “A few blocks from the Capitol.”
     
     
    “Do you and Sarah live together?”
     
     
    “Ivan!”
     
     
    “No, Mr. Kharkov. We only work together.”
     
     
    “And where is that?”
     
     
    “At the Dillard Center for Democracy. It’s a nonprofit group that attempts to promote democracy around the world. Sarah runs our sub-Saharan Africa initiative. I do the computers.”
     
     
    “I believe I’ve heard of this organization. You poked your nose into the affairs of Russia a few years ago.”
     
     
    “We have a very active program in Eastern Europe,” Sarah said. “But our Russia initiative was closed down by your president. He wasn’t terribly fond of us.”
     
     
    “He was right to close you down. Why is it you Americans feel the need to push democracy down the throats of the rest of the world?”
     
     
    “You don’t believe in democracy, Mr. Kharkov?”
     
     
    “Democracy is fine for those who wish to be democratic, Sarah. But there are some countries that simply don’t want democracy. And there are others where the ground has not been sufficiently fertilized for democracy to take root. Iraq is a fine example. You went into Iraq in the name of establishing a democracy in the heart of the Muslim world, a noble goal, but the people were not ready for it.”
     
     
    “And Russia?” she asked.
     
     
    “We are a democracy, Sarah. Our parliament is elected. So is our president.”
     
     
    “Your system allows for no viable opposition, and, without a viable opposition, there can be no democracy.”
     
     
    “Perhaps not your kind of democracy. But it is a democracy that works for Russia. And Russia must be allowed to manage its own affairs without the rest of the world looking over our shoulder and criticizing our every move. Would you rather we return to the chaos of the nineties, when Yeltsin placed our future in the hands of American economic and political advisers? Is this what you and your friends wish to inflict on us?”
     
     
    Elena cautiously suggested a change of subject. “Ivan has many friends in the Russian government,” she explained. “He takes it rather personally when they’re criticized.”
     
     
    “I meant no disrespect, Mr. Kharkov. And I think you raise interesting points.”
     
     
    “But not valid ones?”
     
     
    “It is my hope, and the hope of the Dillard Center, that Russia should one day be a true democracy rather than a managed one.”
     
     
    “The day of Russian democracy has already arrived, Sarah. But my wife is correct, as usual. We should change the subject.” He looked at Mikhail. “Why did your family leave Russia?”
     
     
    “My father felt we would have more opportunities in America than Moscow.”
     
     
    “Your father was a dissident?”
     
     
    “Actually, he was a member of the Party. He was a teacher.”
     
     
    “And did he find his opportunities?”
     
     
    “He taught high school mathematics in New York. That’s where I grew up.”
     
     
    “A schoolteacher? He went all the way to America to become a schoolteacher? What kind of man forsakes his own country to teach school in another? You should undo your father’s folly by coming back to Russia. You wouldn’t recognize Moscow. We need talented people like you to help build our country’s future. Perhaps I could find a position for you in my own organization.”
     
     
    “I’m quite happy where I am, but thank you for the offer.”
     
     
    “But you haven’t heard it yet.”
     
     
    Ivan smiled. It was as pleasant as a sudden crack in a frozen lake. Once again, Elena offered apologia.
     
     
    “You’ll have to forgive my husband’s reaction. He isn’t used to people saying no to him.” Then to Ivan: “You can try again tomorrow, darling. Sarah and Michael are coming to the villa for the afternoon.”
     
     
    “Wonderful,” he said. “I’ll send a car to collect you from your hotel.”
     
     
    “We have a car,” Mikhail countered. “I’m sure we can find our way.”
     
     
    “Don’t be silly. I’ll send a proper car to collect you.”
     
     
    Ivan opened his menu and insisted everyone else do the same. Then he leaned close to Sarah, so that his chest was pressing against