Shaun Walker: Will there be another Russian revolution?
[Shaun Walker is the Moscow correspondent of the Independent.]
These are hard times for the town of Asbest, deep in Russia's Urals industrial belt. For more than a century, asbestos has been mined here on a grand scale. And in recent years, despite an EU ban on the use of asbestos, the 19 factories that make up the world's biggest asbestos mining and processing operation have been working at full stretch, fuelled by Russia's construction boom.
Andrei, a 37-year-old local, has worked in the asbestos industry for 13 years, along with thousands of the town's 76,000 residents. More than 70 per cent of all families here have at least one member working in the asbestos plant. Indeed, without it, the town would be nothing. Across Russia's Urals region, and elsewhere, there are many places like Asbest. In a hangover from the days of Soviet planning, Russia has more than 500 "monotowns" – communities where one factory accounts for most of the local budget and employs the majority of the population.
Andrei's father worked at the asbestos factory before him, and Andrei always assumed that, in time, his son would work there, too. Then the financial crisis hit. This month, the factory has closed down almost completely, with its production lines working two days per week, and thousands of people, Andrei included, put on compulsory leave with two-thirds pay. There's no other work to be found – and Andrei's salary even before his compulsory cut was less than £250 per month. A new magnesium factory that had been planned for the town, to give it a second life and remove its dependency on asbestos, has been put on hold after its European investors withdrew last month.
"We don't have any problems here," says Valery Belosheikin, the town's mayor. Sitting in front of the town flag, which features strands of asbestos passing through a fire and emerging unscathed, he remains defiant. The biggest issue, says Belosheikin, is not the financial crisis, but the fact that Europe has banned asbestos, which he puts down to a conspiracy launched by companies making expensive chemical substitutes. "Whatever happens, we'll find new investors, build the magnesium factory, and everything will be fine."
Not everyone shares his optimism.
"Life is difficult now, and we're scared about what's going to happen," says Andrei, sitting in a café drinking beer in work time. "It was hard enough to provide a good life for my family before, but if I lose my job, I don't know what I'll do."
In dozens of Russia's monotowns, it's the same story. The automobile and metal industries have been particularly hard hit as the crisis has taken hold, and monotowns are particularly vulnerable. If the factory closes down or experiences trouble, the future of the entire settlement comes into question.
Last month, a motley group of Communists, radicals and democrats held protests across Russia to protest against the Moscow government and call for a change of leadership. In the far-eastern city of Vladivostok, more than 2,000 people came out on to the streets. Some have suggested that when things start getting really bad, unrest in monotowns could provide the catalyst for serious uprisings, spilling over into anarchy that will be disastrous for the authoritarian Putin-Medvedev government. Leaders of this small and splintered opposition feel that it's simply a matter of time before these disgruntled people turn against the regime...
Read entire article at Independent (UK)
These are hard times for the town of Asbest, deep in Russia's Urals industrial belt. For more than a century, asbestos has been mined here on a grand scale. And in recent years, despite an EU ban on the use of asbestos, the 19 factories that make up the world's biggest asbestos mining and processing operation have been working at full stretch, fuelled by Russia's construction boom.
Andrei, a 37-year-old local, has worked in the asbestos industry for 13 years, along with thousands of the town's 76,000 residents. More than 70 per cent of all families here have at least one member working in the asbestos plant. Indeed, without it, the town would be nothing. Across Russia's Urals region, and elsewhere, there are many places like Asbest. In a hangover from the days of Soviet planning, Russia has more than 500 "monotowns" – communities where one factory accounts for most of the local budget and employs the majority of the population.
Andrei's father worked at the asbestos factory before him, and Andrei always assumed that, in time, his son would work there, too. Then the financial crisis hit. This month, the factory has closed down almost completely, with its production lines working two days per week, and thousands of people, Andrei included, put on compulsory leave with two-thirds pay. There's no other work to be found – and Andrei's salary even before his compulsory cut was less than £250 per month. A new magnesium factory that had been planned for the town, to give it a second life and remove its dependency on asbestos, has been put on hold after its European investors withdrew last month.
"We don't have any problems here," says Valery Belosheikin, the town's mayor. Sitting in front of the town flag, which features strands of asbestos passing through a fire and emerging unscathed, he remains defiant. The biggest issue, says Belosheikin, is not the financial crisis, but the fact that Europe has banned asbestos, which he puts down to a conspiracy launched by companies making expensive chemical substitutes. "Whatever happens, we'll find new investors, build the magnesium factory, and everything will be fine."
Not everyone shares his optimism.
"Life is difficult now, and we're scared about what's going to happen," says Andrei, sitting in a café drinking beer in work time. "It was hard enough to provide a good life for my family before, but if I lose my job, I don't know what I'll do."
In dozens of Russia's monotowns, it's the same story. The automobile and metal industries have been particularly hard hit as the crisis has taken hold, and monotowns are particularly vulnerable. If the factory closes down or experiences trouble, the future of the entire settlement comes into question.
Last month, a motley group of Communists, radicals and democrats held protests across Russia to protest against the Moscow government and call for a change of leadership. In the far-eastern city of Vladivostok, more than 2,000 people came out on to the streets. Some have suggested that when things start getting really bad, unrest in monotowns could provide the catalyst for serious uprisings, spilling over into anarchy that will be disastrous for the authoritarian Putin-Medvedev government. Leaders of this small and splintered opposition feel that it's simply a matter of time before these disgruntled people turn against the regime...