Governor's Conversation With 25 Informers.

 

Sverdlovsk residents have 17 days left until their benefits are cancelled. But nobody yet knows what will happen on 1 February: will the people who are currently receiving benefits take to the streets or not? Today (Sverdlovsk Oblast Governor) Eduard Rossel himself tried to guage the sentiments of his fellow Sverdlovians. These sentiments, it must be said, are not so good. Just as Putin allowed Russians to have their say on the crisis in early December, so Rossel sought in mid January to reassure those who are unhappy about the monetization (of benefits). Ura.ru's correspondent attended the one-and-a-half-hour psychotherapy session and is prepared to report why (Sverdlovsk Oblast) Minister (of Social Welfare Vladimir) Turinskiy hates Sverdlovians and what his gripes are against (Yekaterinburg Mayor Arkadiy) Chernetskiy.

 

Eduard Rossel has been doing phone-ins with readers of Oblastnaya Gazeta for 10 years now (15 times in all): each January he hears requests to pass a law on "veterans of labor" that would grant such titles without state awards; reassures pensioners who are dissatisfied with their meager pensions; and joins all of his callers in berating mayors who are unable to solve the simplest problems. This time round it is exactly the same: callers complain about the director of Uralmashzavod (Ural Machine-Building Plant), then about judges, the lack of assistance for repressed persons, etc...

 

But despite the traditional nature of the topics, each phone-in session has its own intrigues. Last January, Rossel was forced to answer for United Russia, which was fielding its own list of candidates for the regional parliament. This time the main topic was the monetization of benefits. The first call on this issue came 15 minutes into the session:

 

"Hello, Eduard Ergartovich (Rossel). My name is Anatoliy Nikolayevich, and I have a question about the cancelation of benefits. The money that you promise... It does not compensate for anything," the voice on the line insists.

 

"We are not canceling anything," the governor begins to explain. "We are altering the form of assistance, and you will get 275 rubles a month. We are not canceling free travel between cities; that will remain. You must realize that our oblast is now the only one where benefits have yet to be changed, and we are obligated to take this step. We are compelled to."

 

The voice on the line does not give up: "They will crush us, I assure you."

 

"No." You can tell from Rossel's voice that he is prepared to argue every dissatisfied person round to his point of view. "You must realize that we have created all of the necessary conditions to ensure that the monetization goes smoothly. The federation spends 12.5 rubles a month on its benefit recipients, whereas we are going to give ours 275 rubles each, and on top of that we will give our federal benefit recipients a one-time payment of 600 rubles for the year."

 

"I understand what you are saying. It is just that you could have given us ordinary public transport passes. We do not travel a lot. To the hospitals, here and there." Anatoliy Nikolayevich did not want to argue with the governor; he just wanted to be persuaded, to be heard.

 

"This is something that the municipal authorities must do. In Yekaterinburg, the question of introducing concessionary travel passes is currently being decided. In Tagil, Serov, and Kamensk-Uralskiy they are already being introduced."

 

"Thank you. I wish you good health," the reassured pensioner says, and hangs up.

 

"It is Chernetskiy's fault -- he is dragging his feet," snipes Minister of Social Welfare Vladimir Turinskiy, his skin a strange orange hue.

 

"That is now his affair," Rossel says, brushing it off almost light-heartedly,

 

There is a call about a hospital in the village of Uralets, and then once again about monetization.

 

"I am disabled and a veteran of labor, and I want to tell you that our situation will deteriorate as a result of monetization. Why can we not choose between money or benefits?" a woman on the other end of the line asks indignantly. "Once a month I have to travel to the hospital, and then to the pharmacy, too. We travel to Auchan (French supermarket chain) to buy food, and that involves two bus transfers."

 

"Auchan has a free bus," Turinskiy sneers, without even pausing to think that pensioners still have to get to that free bus somehow.

 

Rossel breaks into the conversation: "There was a time when you had to choose: to receive money as a federal benefit recipient or to remain with the oblast..." But no one listens to him.

 

"I read your -- what's his name... Gredin (Sverdlovsk Minister of Industry and Science Anatoliy Gredin)," the caller continues. "He paints a rosy picture... But we get 12.5 rubles in benefis."

 

"People do not understand monetization," the governor angrily interjects.

 

"They all understand it. It weighs on them morally," the minister of social welfare says, continuing to reveal new facets of himself. One begins to get the impression that he simply does not like people.

 

"You chose to receive federal benefits," Rossel once again tries to start a conversation with the caller.

 

"I have fourth-degree asthma," says the voice on the line.

 

"We have a million benefit recipients," Rossel says, remaining calm and displaying no malice. "There are recipients who get federal benefits, and there are those who get them from the regional budget. The former get 12.5 rubles a month from the Federation, while we give our benefit recipients 275 rubles a month, as well as helping the federal recipients with a one-time payment of 600 rubles for the year."

 

There is a dry cough on the line, and everyone falls silent.

 

"We are doing this voluntarily," Rossel continues after a moment's pause. "We will definitely write to the federal government and closely follow their response, because we understand your problem."

 

"What a joke -- 12.5 rubles! It is not as if a trip costs just 5 kopecks."

 

"We will write to the government."

 

"They are far away from us and they never ride public transport."

 

The woman hangs up. "I do not understand this (compensation of 12.5 rubles) either," Rossel admits.

 

Straight away there is a call from a veteran of labor in Verkhnyaya Pyshma. The woman has just retired and wants to know whether she can get on the waiting list for prosthodontic treatment. It turns out she can:

 

"Eduard Ergartovich, they brought me 275 rubles yesterday. They said it was compensation for public transport. Thank you very much, it will come in handy."

 

"You are quite welcome," Rossel says, waving joyfully at the telephone. He is as happy as a child. No wonder: after an hour of constant complaints, he got his first bit of support. "Someone is happy!"

 

A call comes in from Margarita Nikolayevna, a pensioner, veteran of labor, and disabled person who lives in Nevyansk. She heads the veterans' association at the local mechanical plant. "You are going to give me 275 rubles, but how am I supposed to visit our veterans?" is the woman's main question.

 

"We have passed an ordinance and we will provide assistance to our veterans organizations, so you will be able to travel just fine," the governor reassures Margarita Nikolayevna.

 

"She knows all about it. She is deliberately asking this question," Turinskiy snarls.

 

And at this point it becomes clear why the minister does not like his benefit recipients. Eighty-five-year-old Ivan Ivanovich, who got a new model 7 (Zhiguli car) last year, rings through to Oblastnaya Gazeta. But the man cannot walk, and his car is rotting in the open air. Now he wants to turn it in and get some money, but he does not know how. "He could have chosen the car or the money," Turinskiy explains. A ministry employee sitting next to me adds that such cases are quite common: people initially refuse the money, but then they realize that they have no use for the car and try to sell it, for the price of a new one at that, even though it may have been standing idle for a year or more. With this kind of population group, it is true, you will start to hate people.

 

But Rossel controls himself.

 

A certain Aleksandr Ivanovich is indignant at being deprived of his benefits. "We built up the Soviet economy, and the democrats are forcibly depriving us of our benefits. I am 73 years old, and I am still working. I am forced to work, because otherwise I will not survive. Is it really not possible to create a concessionary travel card?" he asks, posing the most important question about this monetization.

 

"We approved the size of the payment -- 275 rubles. This is the largest amount of compensation in Russia," the governor says, beginning a new story.

 

"I understand that."

 

"And any additional measures must be taken by the heads of local self-government. They need to introduce concessionary passes for various groups. You see, a woman called in before you and thanked us for the money she received yesterday."

 

"People are all different," the man on the phone says.

 

The hour and a half is up. Twenty-five calls. "Vladimir Fedorovich, you need to meet with people more often," Rossel says, addressing Turinskiy. "There are really a lot of questions. They will, of course, drop off once everyone receives their compensation. Especially since 90% of all Sverdlovians filed applications stating that they wanted money. Their applications bear their personal signatures."

 

"People in the smaller towns do not use public transport and will be glad to receive the extra money," the governor says, commenting on the results of the phone-in session. "We have been through this before. When concessionary rail passes were abolished, costs fell by half. The same thing will happen this time. It will create competition on the transportation market, and passes will cost less than 275 rubles. They already cost 250 in Serov and 230 in Volchansk. They will cost about half as much."

 

I ask what will happen in Yekaterinburg -- the Mayor's Office is refusing to sell concessionary travel passes for 275 rubles and is demanding 660, or thereabouts. This is important. After all, TV crews rarely film Serov and Volchansk, but when Yekaterinburg's pensioners take to the streets, all of Russia will see.

 

Rossel promises there will be travel cards in Yekaterinburg. "There was a meeting there yesterday, and next week they will introduce travel passes," Turinskiy swears. "I cannot say any more than that -- after all, this is their sphere of responsibility." "The sum that you mention... It includes a huge markup," Rossel insists.

 

But there is a sense that not everything is being said: no one is predicting the fate of benefits for ordinary pensioners (those who have reached retirement age). I wonder what our authorities are doing to avoid a repeat of last year's revolt in Chelyabinsk. Vladimir Turinskiy explodes: "Do you know what happened there? The road transport companies wanted money and brought people out into the streets. I know who was behind this! What did they get there? Pensioners were given compensation of 200 rubles each, and only 10% bought tickets."

 

The phone-in session is over. Rossel leaves content: in a few days, Oblastnaya Gazeta 's more than 130,000 subscribers will read his explanations about monetization. Whether or not his position was accurate will become clear on the morning of 1 February.

 

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Source: Ura.ru