During the 70 years of the Soviet era leaders created one of the most rigidly controlled societies in history. Their objective was to mold citizens into docile conformists and devoted servants of the State. As an antidote to our personal freedoms they con
It All Started With Gogol: Scenes From Life In Russia
Unusual Experiences In The Soviet UnionBy Thomas L. AmanTrafford Publishing
Copyright © 2012 Thomas L. Aman
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4669-4331-5Chapter One
THE SOVIET STATE
The Soviet Union was under the complete domination and jurisdiction of a handful of people (overwhelmingly of the male persuasion) who made every decision on how the country was to be run, how society was to be structured, how enterprises and corporations were to be managed, and how everyday people were to live their lives. It was probably the most tightly controlled society in the world, perhaps in the history of nations. The miniscule number of managers and executives made every resolution and ensured—through a massive army and, even more, a huge network of secret agents—that every pronouncement made by government representatives was considered sacrosanct. Moscow executives determined what reading, music, and drama were allowable, and behavior itself was conditioned from early years in school. Soviet government experts considered that the west in general and the United States in particular had one goal in life—the complete overthrow of the Soviet system. They considered us enemies and fought a never-ending war of propaganda to shape and mold the minds of all Soviet citizens. Their chief aim was to have a society comprised of individuals who were totally compliant and acquiescent to the dictates of the state, and the state tried to form its individual citizens into a mass of pliable and submissive inhabitants. Its philosophy was that the more its people feared and hated an outside entity, the less likely it was to demonstrate any resistance to domestic rules and regulations and to show any kind of initiative of its own. The Soviet government made sure that a great deal of the ill will showed by their citizens toward America was in response to this channeling of negative energy in the direction of the west.
There was also not a little envy involved, for those who had some limited access to information from the west knew that people lived a much freer existence with the ability to pursue their own ideas of reading, music, career, ability to move at will, travel, and interact with people of other cultures. These were all missing from the typical Soviet citizen's life options. The dichotomy between what people wanted, therefore, and what was available to them was dramatic, and it was the challenge of the Soviet higher-ups to ensure that the normally placid citizenry not aspire to aspects of life not readily accessible within their system. We were all well aware of this situation, of course, but in a theoretical sense. Seeing it and experiencing it was another matter entirely, but this is what we did from the time of our very first visit to Moscow.
THE FTOS
The company I joined had been doing business with a number of foreign trade organizations which was what the many subsections of the Ministry of Foreign Trade were called. These FTOs (as we referred to them in shorthand) were assigned to initiate and to maintain commercial relations with all foreign companies. They constituted a monopoly in the strictest sense of the word—any foreign company wanting to do business in the Soviet Union had no recourse but to work with one or another of these FTOs. The FTOs controlled absolutely every contact with representatives of foreign companies from initial presentations to technical discussions through all negotiations up to contract signings. They were structured around specific industries so that one would be dedicated to, say, textile machinery, another to automotive, a third to electronic equipment, and so forth. I had been working with a number of American companies which produced agricultural equipment, persuading them that there might be an interesting new market for them in the Soviet Union. The particular FTO responsible for purchasing this type of equipment from abroad (and also selling its own, rather inferior home-grown machinery) was called Tractoroexport. A few of my colleagues had had several meetings with delegates of the FTO and naturally reported back to the rest of us on whom they had met, what had been discussed, and what conclusions drawn. We could then build a consensus on the follow-up required.
Sometime before my second or third trip to Moscow, other colleagues in the company who had had meetings with representatives from Tractoroexport mentioned a certain "Golden Girl." There were two reasons she was given such a moniker—her surname was Zolotova (from the Russian word for gold, zoloto), and she had very fine golden blonde hair. I duly took note, for it would be important to follow up a couple projects with her during my next visit to the FTO, and it appeared from the conversation that she was supervising the particular projects our proposals were addressed to resolve.
Working with Soviet organizations in those days was not exactly a joyful experience. You—the foreigner—had to set up all meetings well in advance. No one ever met on the spur of the moment; all meetings were official and all were agreed to ahead of time. The further west you came from, the more official such get-togethers became (or "negotiations" as the Russians called all meetings with foreigners). Typically, the first couple of days in Moscow would involve a few meetings fortuitously arranged before even leaving the United States and the rest of the time plying the phones. The phone system was the worst, most inefficient I had ever experienced. First, there was only one number given out to foreigners for each FTO. FTO departments frequently numbered their employees in the twenties or more, and this meant that nine out of ten attempts at dialing would result in busy signals. In fact, you would often successfully dial only four or five of the seven digits before getting a busy signal. When you finally did make a connection, there was a stronger than fifty-fifty chance that the person you needed was not available. Since whoever picked up the receiver at the FTO knew the caller had to be a foreigner and since all foreigners were by definition antagonists, she/he sometimes simply stated, "Not in." and hung up. Other times you would be told that the individual was in "negotiations." That was actually one of the positive responses: since almost all meetings were limited to an hour or less, it meant that you could try again in an hour and have some chance of getting through. If the answer was "Not at his desk," it meant that the person you needed was in the rest room or in the hall having a cigarette. So you resumed trying after ten minutes or so. The worst response was "Out sick" or "On a business trip" or "On vacation" for you would almost never be told when the individual was expected to reappear. If the person you needed was not there you could ask to leave a message, but you would almost never know if the message was in fact relayed or received. The number of times that someone actually returned my phone call made up a miniscule percentage of total calls. In point of fact, whenever I was in our company suite cum office I was always on the phone myself trying to reach someone in an FTO so that anyone trying to reach me would have had as much difficulty as I had in getting through.
When at last you succeeded in reaching your quarry and requested a meeting, you would frequently be asked, "What is this about?" or "What do you want to discuss?" Assuming that the matter you wished to raise coincided with the interests of the FTO representative you would be...
