Chapter 395 Are you only allowed to focus on women? (Bug fix): Either win spectacularly or die silently.
The president didn't end up picking up a plate, smashing all the businessmen in his office over their heads, and then kicking them all out of the Kremlin.
Although he loathed several of the people there, he needed them to maintain his power.
So instead of kicking everyone out, he treated them to dinner at the Kremlin.
As we all know, eating is never a simple meal for people in society.
Since the president was no longer insisting on postponing the election, even though he did not explicitly promise that the election would be held as scheduled, the businessmen took it as an agreement and moved on to the next step.
This is like walking into a clothing store where the sales assistant will never ask you whether you want to buy clothes or not, but will directly ask you, "Which one do you want?"
Furthermore, to prevent you from being overwhelmed by the choices and unable to make a decision, which could actually reduce your desire to buy, the sales assistant will also give you key recommendations.
Now, the group of businessmen at the Kremlin dinner table recommended Chubais to the president, suggesting that he appoint the former First Deputy Prime Minister to oversee the election campaign.
Similarly, the president didn't say yes or no; but as long as he didn't firmly oppose it, the businessmen would take it as tacit approval and continue to push the work forward.
Wang Xiao's only surprise was that, to this day, the president has not accepted Chubais.
She had assumed that when the president publicly announced his candidacy for the election on February 15, he had already finalized his campaign team.
Good heavens, she's practically begging God on behalf of Russia's reformists.
The election is scheduled for June, but it's already March, and the president's campaign team still hasn't been formed.
When it comes to relaxation, who can compare to the Kremlin?
Dinner didn't last long because being angry is very energy-consuming, and the president was tired and needed to rest.
The host has already left, so it's not appropriate for the guests to stay any longer.
In early March 1996, although American journalists were already calling this group of people financial oligarchs, the actual master of the Kremlin was still the president.
Bankers don't feel at home in the Kremlin.
On the contrary, they feel more comfortable in any street cafe.
Berezovsky was the one among them who knew the Kremlin best, and was also recognized as having the closest relationship with the president.
More importantly, because of Ivanov's interference and the president's reprimand, he did not receive any substantial benefits from last year's privatization auction.
He needs to perform well and support the president's re-election so that he can receive substantial rewards from the president in the future.
So, as soon as everyone got up and left the Kremlin restaurant, before they even reached the steps, he took the initiative to suggest, "Ladies and gentlemen, shall we find a place to sit down and have a cup of coffee?"
Yura glanced at Chubais but didn't object. He wouldn't be able to sleep anyway if she sent him back now.
Time, in his mind there was a giant clock ticking, each "tick-tock" like a urging of the countdown.
Hurry, hurry, hurry! There's no time left.
This sense of oppression is like an invisible net, enveloping everyone within it.
The group hurried down the long steps of the Kremlin and disappeared into the night.
How to describe the Moscow nights in early March? The winter chill hadn't faded, and spring hadn't yet arrived. The cold caused puffs of white mist to rise from everyone's mouths and noses.
The streets weren't exactly bustling; there was no night market or groups of people strolling around, but scattered lights still flickered in the deep darkness.
Heavy-makeup women wearing coats stood in groups of three or five on the street, cigarettes between their fingers, puffing out smoke one after another.
It seemed that the faint firelight and the warm smoke exhaled from their mouths and noses could provide some warmth to their exposed, snow-white necks and chests, as well as their legs under fishnet stockings.
As soon as a group of well-dressed men approached, the women instantly switched into work mode, throwing them flirtatious glances in an attempt to secure their next sale.
Their gazes fell on Wang Xiao and Liu Ba, without resentment or jealousy, but simply drifted away.
But when one of the beautiful women with a round face and cat-like eyes glanced at Chubais's face, the gentle tenderness in her eyes instantly turned into resentment.
She glared at Chubais, then exhaled a heavy puff of smoke, took a step back with an almost "pui" gesture, turned her head, and used body language to show her disdain.
Her companion sensed something was wrong. While instinctively flashing a flattering and reassuring smile at the potential guests, she turned her head and whispered to ask what was going on.
The women whispered in hushed tones, and even when the wind helped carry their messages, only fragmented words like "state thief" drifted over.
Chubais remained expressionless.
Since January 16, when the president pushed him out to take the blame for privatization and openly accused him of selling off national assets at a low price, he has heard similar insults from the public to the point of being tired of them.
He kept walking forward, because ironically, even at this moment, he was still fighting for the rights of those who had abandoned him.
He and they, these thieves who have been criticized by the public for stealing state property during privatization, must ensure that the president can continue to sit comfortably in the Kremlin.
Otherwise, if the Communists were to make a comeback, the Red Army would definitely hang them under the streetlights.
A hidden fear and dissatisfaction with the president's continued silence led one of the bankers to blurt out before entering the café: "The Red Army will not let anyone go. Don't forget, even though the Tsar never ordered the execution of a single communist, they still executed the entire Tsar's family."
This is already quite explicit.
The president's desire to remain aloof and maintain a flexible stance is undoubtedly wishful thinking.
If the Communist Party regains power, the president should bear the greatest responsibility and suffer the most severe consequences.
"Alright!" Yura, sensing the tension in the air, immediately called for a halt. "What we need to do now is determine the next step."
This coffee shop is also under the Wuzhou Group. To be precise, it was originally the internal canteen for employees of Huaxia Commercial Street, a place similar to having afternoon tea.
However, it is also very popular with customers because it offers a wide variety of dishes at affordable prices.
Later, they simply opened it up and started operating it semi-publicly under the name of a cafeteria.
Yes, that way you can avoid taxes.
There were quite a few customers in the store.
Someone sat alone at a table, reading documents while wolfing down a sandwich.
Some people were in pairs, leaning against each other and whispering sweet nothings under the soft, dim light.
The freshly baked desserts on the table had all gone cold, and they didn't even bother to glance at them.
Wang Xiao's gaze swept out the floor-to-ceiling window.
Under the streetlights, a streetwalker outside a café stared longingly at the deserted egg tarts on the table through the window, unconsciously pulling her coat tighter around herself.
A thin, transparent pane of glass separated two worlds on this winter night in Moscow.
Businessmen and politicians cannot sit in the lobby to discuss business.
The night shift manager courteously led the boss into the private room, served everyone hot fruit tea, and brought out freshly baked cakes.
The air was immediately filled with a rich, sweet fragrance.
Berezovsky looked at the blueberry jam cake in front of him and politely thanked the manager: "Please close the door behind you when you leave."
It is obvious that Wang Xiao and Ivanov's nearly month-long absence has allowed him to successfully become the leader of the group.
Now, looking at Wang Xiao and Ivanov, he spoke with utmost sincerity: "Welcome back, my dear Ivanov. Miss Wang, hiring you as our campaign PR was a decision we all agreed on."
Wang Xiao suddenly wanted to laugh, because the phrase "unanimously approved" reminded her of the speech given by the Russian Communist Party branch in Xiaozhou when electing the branch secretary.
Whether they hate or miss the Soviet Union, those who grew up in the Soviet Union inevitably bear the mark of the Soviet Union.
Laughing at this point would seem a bit impolite, so Wang Xiao smoothly cracked a joke: "So, what about the employment contract? And how much salary will you offer me?"
Chubais's gaze fell on her face, and he said seriously, "You have the same salary standard as me."
He was the nominal head of the campaign team.
Wang Xiao extended his hand, his smile carrying a deeper meaning: "Sir, it's my pleasure."
A handshake is a ritual of joining.
After shaking hands and withdrawing her grip, she began to press the issue from her own position: "Gentlemen, I regret to see that our progress seems to be seriously behind schedule."
She raised her eyebrows, looking at everyone incredulously. "So far, the president still hasn't acknowledged us as his most important team?"
A hint of embarrassment appeared on Chubais's face.
When he persuaded the president to run for office, he also assumed that he would naturally become the person in charge of the campaign.
But after losing his position as First Deputy Prime Minister, his good fortune seemed to have run out, and he was once again in a state of uncertainty.
The president's announcement of his candidacy on February 15 did not prevent him from ordering the removal of himself from his positions as Russia's representative in international financial organizations such as the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank for Renewal and Development on February 19.
Chubais couldn't stop himself from thinking about whether he would be penniless and unable to even enter the Kremlin by this time next year.
His pride as a former high-ranking official made him instinctively speak up in defense: "Our President is a sentimental person, and he has already formed a campaign team."
"Is Mr. Soskowitz still in charge?" Wang Xiao readily accepted Chubais's explanation and nodded. "It seems that the President wants to unleash everyone's full potential, because opponents always excite us more."
Ivanov wanted to facepalm. Here we go again. It seems the president always has to maintain a balance, even when his position is already precarious.
Yura suddenly realized, "So that's how it is."
In January, in addition to removing Chubais from his post, the president made several other personnel changes, removing reformists and replacing them with conservatives and nationalists.
He was genuinely worried that the president would abandon reforms altogether and side with the conservatives.
"Alright." Berezovsky, having taken a sip of fruit tea with a sweet taste in his mouth, brought the topic back to the present. "Since we're going to compete, then we need to show our strength."
He failed to participate in last year's privatization auction, but isn't the current presidential election also a grand auction, auctioning off Russia's future for the next five years?
This made Berezovsky's voice rise slightly as he spoke, barely able to contain his excitement: "Now we need to divide the work and cooperate, and everyone should work together."
He took a file folder from his briefcase, then placed the documents inside on the table, gesturing for everyone to see. "This is the next step in our public relations campaign, which Mr. Gusinski and I have been working on together."
With Ivanov in charge of MTV and Wang Xiao the newly appointed public relations director, the two naturally need to pay attention to public opinion and propaganda.
As soon as Wang Xiao's eyes swept over the documents, his expression immediately changed: "Sir, what do you mean? Besides the Red Army's rape, don't you have anything else to promote?"
Ivanov's face was colder than the Moscow winter night. He glared at them and said, "Gentlemen, what's wrong with you? I warned you back in Davos that Russia is part of the Soviet Union. All the atrocities committed by the Red Army will now be attributed to Russia! Rape criminals, are you afraid that if we go out into the world, we won't be hated as rapists?"
Berezovsky hadn't expected such a strong reaction—good heavens, back in the Kremlin, Miss Queen had reacted very naturally to this group of Russian men.
He quickly explained, "It's a misunderstanding. We don't do external propaganda; we only do internal propaganda. Just like you said, what we need is the votes of the Russian people."
He pointed at the documents, a look of disgust on his face. "Look," he said, "the Red Army not only raped women in defeated countries, but also the wives and daughters of communist parties from various countries. They volunteered to help the Red Army with logistical work, only to be brutally violated. There were also female Red Army soldiers who were captured but refused to surrender, thinking that their own troops had arrived and they would be rescued. Instead, they were met with inhuman rape."
Berezovsky emphasized, "The Soviet Red Army is not human; they are beasts, beasts devoid of any humanity. We cannot allow the Russian people to fall into the tragic state of being ruled by beasts."
Fear—with only three months until the presidential election, they must quickly stir up public fear of the Soviet Red Army.
Only intense fear can keep people clear-headed, prevent them from being deceived by the sweet words of the Communist Party, and avoid casting the wrong vote.
"I object!" Wang Xiao stated without hesitation. "Is there nothing you can do besides hurting the female victims again and subjecting them to public criticism?"
Gusinsky was somewhat embarrassed, but as a representative of NTV, he still had to defend their proposal: "Madam, we are discussing matters concerning the fate of Russia. As the head of media relations, we hope you can be more objective and consider the issue from an objective perspective."
He pointed his finger in the air. "Please don't be soft-hearted. You should know this tactic is very effective. Because there are more women than men in Russia, and women hate such shameful atrocities even more."
This is a war, and all that matters in a war is winning.
"There is no superior or inferior means; as Ivan said, the people will only support the victor."
Ivanov, who had been singled out, could no longer contain himself: "You are destroying your own Great Wall, and you're still smug about it!"
Good heavens, he felt once again how deeply he had come to associate with these idiots. Their eyes could only see the smallest thing.
Wang Xiao sneered: "Are you sure you can instill fear of the Soviet Red Army in the masses? Yes, it was a brutal rape, and even now, I've heard of rapes that still can't suppress the fear. But history is history. Aren't even more serious and widespread rapes continuing?"
She pointed towards the outside of the café, her fingers trembling, "Those women, those streetwalkers soliciting customers in the freezing cold, are being raped in Russian society!"
She stood up abruptly. "If you still insist on your own way, I'm leaving now. You'll have to find someone else to handle this media relations."
Yura was terrified and quickly got up to stop her: "Your Majesty, please calm down. The situation is really bad. The opinion polls show no signs of improvement. We must break this deadlock."
"Go for it!" Wang Xiao said expressionlessly. "You can definitely mess everything up. After all, even the worst Soviet Union never encouraged women to sell their bodies to support themselves and their families. Modern Russia is fantastic; everyone has the freedom to sell their bodies! So this is the democracy and freedom you wanted!"
Russia today has not been completely brainwashed, at least not like some later countries that openly regard female prostitution as an important source of national revenue.
Everyone present was embarrassed.
The emergence and growing prominence of street prostitutes indirectly proves the failure of the country's economic reforms.
Ivanov followed closely beside Wang Xiao, his face full of disbelief: "Gentlemen, I have never seen such generous people as you. How can you be so eager to hand guns to your opponents?"
He gestured, "Sorry, we have different views, gentlemen, goodbye. This meal is on me, please don't be shy."
As he spoke, he put his arm around Wang Xiao's waist and lifted his foot as if to leave.
"I'm so sorry!" Berezovsky ran in front of the two men, spreading his arms like a bird, desperately trying to stop them. "It's all my fault. We came up with a terrible plan."
He looked at Wang Xiao earnestly and said sincerely, "That's precisely why we need you, Miss Wang. Please devise a better public relations plan for us."
As the nominal head of the campaign team, Chubais also stood up and said, "Miss Wang, we believe in you. Please give us a new plan."
He sighed, “The Communist Party of the Russian Federation might consider the international repercussions and let you go, but they will absolutely not let Ivan go. The president has no way out, and neither do we.”
Wang Xiao's face remained ashen. After drinking a cup of fruit tea, she sat down again and finally spoke: "Don't drag out the timeline too long. Why did you hate the Soviet Union back then? How did the Soviet Union make you despair? Let everyone remember now."
Thank God, Your Excellency the President hopes to have a team of bureaucrats completely different from the old ones to defeat the Red Factory Directors and deprive the Communist Party of its economic foundation.
This resulted in most of the bankers present being from humble backgrounds, who knew just how difficult it was for ordinary people to obtain resources under a planned economy.
"Focus on the key points and stop harping on about the Red Army."
Wang Xiao remained expressionless. "People only fear the fears they have experienced themselves. Those distant records on paper are more like a morbid curiosity."
Her gaze swept around the room. "Don't equate our fears, the fears of us capitalists, with the fears of ordinary people. After all—"
She cruelly told a not-so-funny joke, "The Red Army may have enough ropes to hang you and me, but they certainly don't have the ability to hang all Russians."
Therefore, it's perfectly normal that the people present couldn't laugh.
Wang Xiao didn't need their laughter; she never thought their laughter was particularly pleasant.
What truly instilled fear in ordinary people about the Soviet Union? Scarcity, the scarcity of resources.
She recalled: "In 1991, when I first went to Moscow, it felt like there were queues everywhere. Goods only existed on blackboards, not on shelves. At that time, the supplies that the Chinese government was providing to the Soviet Union would appear on the black market in Moscow the moment they came out of the train station. Everyone rushed to the black market to buy goods."
That was 1991, the real Moscow, the Moscow that Russians hadn't yet forgotten.
Berezovsky readily agreed: "Miss Wang, you're right. We must remind the people that the Communist Party will bring back hunger, causing all goods to disappear from the shops, and no one except the Communist Party cadres will get anything to eat or drink."
Yes, they should put up posters in all their shop windows reminding people to stock up.
Otherwise, once the Russian Communist Party returns, those goods will no longer belong to the stores or the people; they will only become party assets.
"Anything else?" Berezovsky rubbed his hands together, looking slightly embarrassed. "We don't have much time left, Miss Wang. We can't proceed step by step; we must speed things up."
Wang Xiao still didn't smile. She took out several sheets of paper with her handwritten summaries on them.
"It is said that the truth becomes clearer through debate, and the Communist Party of the Russian Federation also needs a great debate now."
Her hand lightly tapped the summary, "After all, it seems that the older party members do not agree with the policy put forward by our Communist Party Chairman. They need space to debate and give an accurate definition of a true Communist Party member."
Some of the bankers present had been darlings of the Communist Youth League in the past, and naturally understood her unspoken meaning.
That's right, we need to incite infighting within the Communist Party of the Russian Federation; we can't let them be a united front.
As long as there is struggle, there will be confrontation, and in the short term, it will definitely deplete strength.
As for how to instigate internal struggles within the Communist Party? That's incredibly simple.
Just how brutal was the struggle between the Trotskyists and the Stalinists back then? Anyone with even a little knowledge of Soviet history knows.
Even now, the divisions within the Communist Party of the Russian Federation have not disappeared. Look at how accurate the information is: abandoning Marxism is tantamount to destroying the Communist Party.
Wow, this is another interesting point of view. Religion calls on people to tolerate the world, while communism calls on people to change the world.
Mr. Zyuganov, what exactly do you want to advocate when you embrace religion?
Such differences of opinion were enough to cause a huge argument between the straightforward, old-school Communist Party member and Zyuganov.
"After the parliamentary turmoil of 1993, a large number of newspapers were shut down, so it's now very difficult to see opinions like these in the newspapers. So—"
Wang Xiao looked at everyone expressionlessly. “We need to bring these voices back to the forefront to get everyone’s attention. Zyuganov and his team are presenting a new kind of Communist Party posture, essentially trying to have their cake and eat it too. Now we need to get the two sides arguing and force him to make a choice. And no matter what he chooses, he will lose the support of the other side.”
If you cannot strengthen yourself, then weaken your enemy.
In any case, whether something is powerful or not is determined by comparison.
She picked up a spoon and began to eat the cake; none of the dishes at the Kremlin dinner suited her taste, and she needed to replenish her energy.
Berezovsky frowned slightly: "Miss Wang, it's not that I disagree with your idea, I just have a concern: what if the Communist Party of the Russian Federation retaliates in kind, and follows suit, causing internal strife among us as well?"
Ivanov sneered inwardly. Did the Communist Party of the Russian Federation really need to instigate this? Aren't you all causing enough headaches with your arguing?
Wang Xiao shook his head: "They might do it, but they definitely won't be as effective as we are."
She slowly and deliberately used a spoon to stir the cookies on the cake, saying, "Because you've argued enough since the Soviets collapsed. You've been arguing for more than four years, and the people are already tired of it."
Yura's face flushed. He had always felt that the reason the reforms hadn't yielded significant results was because they had been too busy arguing.
“The Russian Communist Party is different.” Wang Xiao’s lips curled up slightly. “Since a large number of left-wing newspapers were shut down in 1993, it has become very difficult for real communists to speak out in newspapers. More than two years have passed, and now their differences of opinion are new to the general public, and they are worth watching.”
Her gaze was somewhat casual. "Perhaps as they watch, it will evoke more memories of their fear of Soviet rule, and the original centrists will become more determined not to vote for the chairman of the Communist Party of the Russian Federation."
This is a gamble—a gamble to bring Communist Party ideology back into the newspapers and on television.
Wang Xiao spread his hands: "Fortune favors the bold. We must strike hard when the drum is broken and take strong medicine when the disease is serious. Only by forcing Mr. Zyuganov to the public eye and making him have to make a choice will we have a better chance of winning the election for the president."
She put a small cookie, smeared with cream and blueberry jam, into her mouth and chewed slowly. "Either a resounding victory or a silent death. Gentlemen, what will you choose? Consider it yourselves. After all—"
Her gaze shifted from one face to another. "I'm just a public relations person. Public relations is only responsible for proposing solutions."
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[Let me see] Good morning! Another hot day!
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