Russia’s Mighty Mouse

Putin spent most of those heady years in East Germany, watching the Iron Curtain crumble. Sobchak, who years before had also taught Putin, brought the former KGB agent back to St. Petersburg in 1992 after becoming mayor. He needed "someone who could bridge the gap between the former dissidents who were now in office and their old persecutors [in the KGB]," says the former senior Kremlin aide. Medvedev worked diligently for Putin, dispensing legal advice as his boss oversaw the sell-off of city-owned property and businesses. But the younger man also dove into the capitalist scrum himself, joining Ilim Pulp, a paper-processing company he helped turn into a multimillion-dollar market leader. He also taught law at his alma mater. Pavel Timofeyev, a former student, says Medvedev would show up to class wearing a Versace blazer with gorgons on the buttons, a Parker pen in hand. "He glowed with luxury, success and professionalism," Timofeyev says. "We dreamt of becoming rich and successful lawyers like him."

Years later, as he rose in the Kremlin, Putin tapped Medvedev in part for his corporate savvy. Soon Medvedev was heading Gazprom, the state-owned energy giant, where he eased out old management and plugged the company's leaky finances. But the deciding factor—then, as now—was loyalty. "It's extremely important for Putin to have subordinates who cannot challenge or threaten him," says Kremlin-connected analyst Stanislav Belkovsky. Medvedev shares with Putin a certain distrust of unbridled capitalism: at Ilim Pulp, he once had to call upon former KGB and military intelligence officers to help fight off a hostile takeover attempt. He also approves of the new, bold role that Putin has carved out for Russia through a mixture of diplomacy, bullying and military swagger. "Russia has reclaimed her proper place in the world community," Medvedev said approvingly last month.

Yet at the same time, the loyal lieutenant has carefully avoided the kind of strutting nationalism that Putin favors. (Putin recently threatened to target Russian missiles at Ukraine if the country agreed to host a U.S. anti-missile defense system, a statement that U.S. Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice condemned as "reprehensible rhetoric.") In a recent speech Medvedev promised to push Russia's energy interests in Europe "calmly, without hysterics." And last month a NEWSWEEK correspondent viewed a hand-edited copy of a speech Medvedev gave to an audience of civic and cultural leaders in Moscow. Medvedev had crossed out two passages: a reference to how Putin's projected new role in Parliament was a sign that the "party system is growing stronger" in Russia, and a claim that the West is trying to foment a revolt akin to Ukraine's 2004 Orange Revolution there. Instead Medvedev admitted, "Russia is a country of legal nihilism. No European country can boast such a universal disregard for the rule of law."

Even if he's so inclined, Medvedev will have a tough time reforming the Russian political system. During Putin's tenure a formidable and murky network of St. Petersburg cronies has spread throughout the Kremlin. "Medvedev will have to fight [this] clan of former KGB men," says Kirill Kobanov, head of Russia's National Anti-Corruption Committee. "Otherwise the entire state political structure will collapse under the weight of graft." Yet Putin is not likely to condone a wholesale purge of his former mates. And at a press conference last week he clearly indicated that he expected to continue to wield influence: "The highest executive power in the country is ... the prime minister," he said ominously.

Still, over the long run, the former top Kremlin aide thinks there's reason to hope. "Remember, we all said that Putin would be the puppet of the Yeltsin clan who put him in power—but he very quickly set his own course," he says. "There has always been a magic to the office of tsar in Russia … Medvedev will surprise us all." Perhaps his mentor most of all.

With Anna Nemtsova in St. Petersburg

© 2008