Report by Andrey Kolesnikov about Vladimir Putin’s trip to Chelyabinsk

On February 16, Russian President Vladimir Putin inspected enterprises in Chelyabinsk and met with students and workers. He had an ordinary day – no, God forbid, not a presidential candidate, but the President of Russia, notes a special correspondent for Kommersant. Andrey Kolesnikov.

In Chelyabinsk, which makes an impression with its, oddly enough, optimistic appearance (on the night of Vladimir Putin’s arrival, the city was simply unnaturally illuminated; old-timers say they don’t remember this and don’t understand how it was possible to succeed so much), the election campaign is actively underway.

It seems, however, that she is led by one person. The rest – neither Leonid Slutsky, nor Nikolai Kharitonov, nor Vladislav Davankov – are visible on election posters in the city. Their opponent, so to speak, is actively present both on banners and on billboards. Where there are no photos of him, there are quotes from him. Other candidates seem to be wasting their time.

So they can lose.

And on February 16, late at night, Vladimir Putin himself appeared in the city. On the morning of February 16, he arrived at the plant, where he was shown industrial robots, and Mr. Putin seemed to be so pleasantly surprised, as if he had never even expected to see such a thing. And then he came to the Stankomash industrial park, to the territory of the Konar scientific and technical center.

The enterprise turned out to be simply grandiose. By the time I got to the workshop where Vladimir Putin was supposed to appear in an hour, I had to walk a kilometer, it seems, a kilometer and a half through workshops with huge blades, propellers and some other products, the purpose of which could not even be guessed.

The workers were tired of waiting for the president and were ready to wait as long as necessary. They themselves eagerly asked me about how the day before everything had turned out at Uralvagonzavod in Nizhny Tagil.

“Well, there are tanks there,” I said honestly. “So, of course, it was exciting.”

– So what? — the worker was offended. “We have mine clearance systems here, too, a little further!”

There was a challenge in his voice.

— Are you going to approach the president? – I was interested. – Yesterday people at Uralvagonzavod came up. Despite the fact that they were not from the “clean” zone. And no one could stop them – they wanted to be photographed in front of their tanks.

– Are we our own enemies, or what? — the workers were perplexed. “We’ll stand here.”

And it was clear that it was death.

“And yesterday…” I considered it my duty to finish.

– Yesterday? So they probably no longer work where they worked. And we still want!

“But now they have a photo with the president of the country,” I objected, reasonably, it seemed to me. “How can I fire them now?”

“This is what they will show at the new job,” people who know life explained to me, “these photos.”

“Why,” I continued to wonder, “there’s such a big photograph of the new SKA Arena… And the Opera and Ballet Theater in Sevastopol.” Is it your work?

“Yes,” they confirmed. “The supports are ours, whose else.”

Yes, I already understood who everything rested on here.

At that moment I saw a message that Alexei Navalny had passed away.

Almost immediately, Vladimir Putin’s limousine drove into the workshop. The general director of Konar, Valery Bondarenko, told him about the SKA Arena and the Opera and Ballet Theater. The President was about fifty meters away from us and looked like an enthusiastic man. I didn’t know at that moment that he knew what happened to Alexei Navalny.

A minute later, I asked the president’s press secretary, Dmitry Peskov, if the president already knew.

“Yes, he was informed,” Mr. Peskov nodded. “And he is unlikely to comment on this now.”

– Do you know that they say a blood clot has come off? — I asked Dmitry Peskov.

“The doctors are looking into it,” he added.

After some time, Vladimir Putin was already answering questions from students and workers.

The students were peaceful; problems of life and death did not interest them.

They were predictably concerned primarily with the problems of training personnel, that is, themselves.

“Such pride rises within us for our industry!..” admitted Valeria Bobrovskaya, who was called to be the moderator. “An exploding feeling!”

The confessions didn’t end there:

– You know, I would also like to say… The organizers of this event allowed me to ask you any question, without limitation, what worries me. And I thought and thought… You know, I have no questions for you!..

There was heartfelt applause.

– Forward! Good luck! To new frontiers! – Mr. Putin was also delighted.

It looked like he was ready to finish.

And she considered it her duty to explain:

— You explain your positions so clearly and clearly in your addresses, where Russia is heading! And therefore, I personally don’t have any questions, only a feeling of gratitude and, again, a feeling of pride at what a great president we have!

Yes, the meeting really could have ended.