As the results come in it is clear that Vladimir Zhirinovsky has failed yet again to become Russian President.
He surged to prominence and even some significance in 1993 when his Liberal-Democratic Party won some 23% of the popular vote in the Duma elections. Before these important elections the Westminster Foundation for Democracy set up seminars at the Embassy to explain to Russian political parties how to market themselves. We agonised a bit over whether to invite Zhirinovsky’s party, and in the end decided to do so as a polite pluralist gesture.
To the consternation of all concerned on our side, Zhirinovsky himself appeared. He gave our experts and visiting MPs a spirited and pretty damn good lecture on modern campaigning in a country Russia’s size, citing his distribution of thousands of cassette tapes with his pronouncements – visionary pre-Internet viral marketing.
And he duly did well, winning a goodly slab of votes from Russians already frustrated with the pain of transition. Was this not the end of reform and his springboard to some sort of seizure of power?
A group of senior British journalists in
We were more or less right. In the 1996 Russian Presidential elections and in subsequent elections in 2000 and again now Zhirinovsky made his familiar loud belligerent noise, and ended up nowhere.
What does Zhirinovskyism represent? His demands over the years have been the usual rubbish of noisy, slickly packaged, post-communist lumpen-populism (Down with Jews! Up with Saddam Hussein! Nuke
Safe to say that his campaigns are not intended to present coherent policies. Rather they have been a carefully calibrated and well-funded spoiler aimed at discrediting democracy itself, as a way to give harder darker forces a way back into power after the collapse and discrediting of communism.
If democracy can be made to look farcical and above all chaotic, why insist on it? Surely Order, preferably without too much Law, is better?
This malevolent ploy worked very well in
And in
I went to see Zhirinovsky once in 1994, accompanied by my youthful Embassy colleague Christopher Granville. We made our way up to his office past a gloomy shop selling kinky kitschy Heavy Metal music and trinkets.
His office on one wall featured a vast map of the world,
“Here [
Who is in the middle protecting you from all these people?!
So we talked.










