Norilsk, Russia

["Ken Hanly" <khanly@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx>]

The Globe and Mail (Canada)
July 24, 2001
Even prosperous Russian towns yearn for Soviet rule
Norilsk could have barred fortune-seekers under the old system, GEOFFREY
YORK
writes
By GEOFFREY YORK

Idris Jafarov thinks he has set a world record for going from one extreme to
another. He moved, willingly, from the heat of his home in Azerbaijan, which
can get up to 50 degrees, to the -50 cold of the Russian Arctic.

But while he jokes about the frigid weather, his Russian neighbours are
grimly determined to force him to go home, along with 20,000 migrants from
impoverished southern regions who have flooded into one of the world's most
northern metropolises to make money.

Norilsk, a conglomeration of smoke-spewing factories and metal-extracting
mines in the tundra above the Arctic Circle, has already achieved fame as
Russia's wealthiest and most polluted city. Now it wants another
distinction:
to be the first to switch back to its Soviet-era status as a tightly guarded
"closed city."

"My relatives fought to defend this country in the Second World War, and now
they want to kick us out," Mr. Jafarov, who sells shoes in an outdoor
market,
said angrily.

"They have no right to do this. We're very hard-working people. Everything
they have in Norilsk -- all the trade, the food, the clothing -- we do it
all. We feed them; we clean their streets. They should thank us for that."

The head of the city's biggest employer shows no signs of gratitude.
"Norilsk
is only for Norilsk people," Jonson Khagazheyev, general director of Norilsk
Nickel, declared. "This is the will of the people."

The factory boss and the city's mayor have written to Moscow to demand a
revival of Soviet-era restrictions that prohibited outsiders from visiting.

Ten years after the Soviet Union collapsed, Russians are yearning for order
and stability, and they are willing to sacrifice some newfound freedoms to
get it. Many are nostalgic for the archipelago of closed cities that the
Soviets created. The Kremlin recently revealed that it still restricts entry
to about 90 towns and cities, mostly to protect nuclear and military
secrets.

In Norilsk, about 40,000 residents have signed petitions in favour of the
travel restrictions.

"People who migrate around the country are not necessarily the best kinds of
people," Mr. Khagazheyev insisted. "Crime is rising. We have drug addiction,
which we never had before. People shouldn't be allowed to just come and go
freely."

Built on the bones of thousands of Soviet slave labourers who died in prison
camps from the 1930s to the 1950s, Norilsk has emerged as one of the most
prosperous cities in the former Soviet Union.

It is the world's biggest producer of nickel, ahead of the Canadian giants
Inco and Falconbridge. It produces more than one-third of the world's
palladium, a quarter of the world's platinum and 20 per cent of the world's
copper. It accounts for 2.1 per cent of Russia's economy.

With commodity prices rising, Norilsk earned close to $2-billion (U.S.) in
profits last year, and has increased its average wage to almost $700 a
month,
more than six times the Russian average. Norilsk also provides millions of
dollars worth of social benefits and welfare programs, including school
allowances, maternity benefits, supplementary pensions, housing subsidies
and
guaranteed jobs for the children of employees.

"The social conditions here are the best in Russia," Mr. Khagazheyev said.

"All of Russia would like to work here, but we cannot let them."

Norilsk, with a population of 230,000, is one of a dozen cities of more than
100,000 people built above the 60th parallel under grandiose Soviet
industrial schemes. Today, about 10 million people live in Russia's far
North, giving it a population density 50 times greater than the Canadian
North.

To reduce the social burden, northern cities are encouraging residents to
move south, with the help of World Bank loans and Russian resettlement
grants. Norilsk has cut its work force from 105,000 to about 70,000 in
recent
years, and it wants to eliminate another 20,000 jobs as productivity rises.

Norilsk is so remote that it has no railway or highway. Its only links to
the
outside world are airplanes and ships in the summer. But the hungry migrants
from the south are still willing to buy expensive airline tickets to reach
the wealthy city, provoking a furious backlash.

"Good things always attract bad people," Alan Lolayev, a deputy mayor of
Norilsk, said. "They can't get jobs at the factory, so they look for other
sources of income. They have low qualifications, and they are not
contributing to the city."

So far, the Kremlin has rejected Norilsk's request for closed-city status,
citing the Russian constitutional guarantee of freedom of movement. But the
city is persisting with its demand for restrictions. "Some people might
suffer from this, but the majority will benefit," Mr. Khagazheyev said.

The Azeris, meanwhile, feel they have no choice but to stay.

"It's bad for the health; it's very cold, and I cough from the smog, but I
need to earn a living," says Ekhtimar Mamoyedev, a 43-year-old Azeri selling
cheap clothing at an outdoor market.

"I worked 16 years for the state in Soviet times. I'm sorry that I lost my
job, but now there's no other place to work. If we can't make a living here,
where would we go? We'd just starve and die."

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