There is such a profession – to illuminate the Motherland

On December 21, Russian President Vladimir Putin opened the Moscow-Kazan toll highway and participated in the Council for Strategic Development and National Projects. With the story of how Mr. Putin tried to get his interlocutors to talk and what came of it, a special correspondent for Kommersant Andrey Kolesnikov.

The opening of the route was festive. One after another, regional leaders talked about why this route was good for them and how it would radically change the life of the subject. They didn’t discuss, however, that driving along the highway, as the president was told on a straight line, costs a lot of money, about 7 thousand rubles, but he insisted that he was told about four and a half. However, that was not the point now.

Meanwhile, I remember one moment from the whole event.

“Alexey Andreich Krapivin,” the president introduced another participant in the teleconference. “He, too, should be in a good, interesting, beautiful place – on the bridge over the Volga!”

Alexey Krapivin stood where several regional leaders had already spoken before him, who were standing nearby now, but only now it became completely clear that this was an interesting, beautiful place and, in fact, a bridge across the Volga.

“Dear Vladimir!..” exclaimed Alexey Krapivin.

But then the president decided to give him the floor:

– Please! – he interrupted Alexei Krapivin.

Just a minute. Here it turned out that Mr. Krapivin addressed himself in a way that no one had ever publicly addressed Vladimir Putin: “Dear Vladimir!”

“Dear Vladimir Vladimirovich!..” Alexey Andreich later decided to correct himself.

Or maybe it wasn’t necessary.

The next event was the Council for Strategic Development and National Projects. The point of the council was that it needed to be carried out.

And the president didn’t exactly feel sad while he was speaking or while First Deputy Prime Minister of the Russian Federation Andrei Belousov was reporting, but he certainly didn’t seem enthusiastic.

It soon became clear what he was apparently really waiting for.

Vladimir Putin intended to participate in a creative project named after Ksenia Mazneva. Apparently, there was a decision not only to fulfill her New Year’s wish, as all the leaders of the country traditionally do this a few days before the New Year, but to do it in a noticeable and natural way.

And this, as this story has shown, is not easy.

It was Mr. Belousov who concluded his report.

“To ensure technical cooperation in order to modernize the industrial and technological base…,” he reported. “To form an effective multilateral infrastructure for supporting foreign economic relations…

I didn’t want to hang myself, no, but just look for a rope with soap somewhere at hand.

But still, he finished.

“Now our colleagues will speak out in their areas,” Mr. Putin nodded. “But I want to say this.” We are engaged in a very important matter with you (it was proposed to take our word for it.— A.K.)… But there are equally important things to do! Well, for example. All of you participated (some have not yet.— A.K.) in the event, which means “Wish Tree” and accompany your charges. Ksenia Mazneva from St. Petersburg dreamed of trying herself as a news anchor. I need to step away for a few minutes to check how things are going!

The situation did not require, of course, an immediate call to Ksenia Mazneva. In the end, you could call her at any time (unless, of course, the girl suddenly had the strength to wait). But, apparently, it should have seemed beautiful: suddenly interrupting an important final Council on strategic projects for the sake of a pre-New Year call to one girl.

“And since you are all in your work offices, you will all have time to either wash your hands or drink a cup of coffee…” Mr. Putin advised. “Thank you for your understanding… Let’s take a break for ten minutes.”

And a few seconds later, Vladimir Putin, leaving the hall where the council was taking place, was already connecting from his work office (from one room to another there is really almost no need to even go) with Ksenia Mazneva, a girl of about 13 (that is, more like a girl), and he was in the right mood.

– Hello! – the girl told him, – when they apparently told her that she could already talk to the president.

– Hello. It’s you? – he asked again.

“Yes, it’s me,” the girl confirmed.

The beginning of the conversation could be called strange. This is how people talk to each other in halftones, who, for example, know that they are being overheard and do not want them to understand who is who.

“Great,” the president finally relaxed. “Ksyusha, how is your internship at Ostankino going?”

There was a phone on the table in front of Ksyusha; she put it on speakerphone. A mother was sitting nearby, holding a sleeping boy of about four years old in her arms. The wait for the call was, apparently, not half an hour. The boy broke down.

Well, he’s not the first.

“Everything is super,” said Ksyusha. “I did two eyeliners, it turns out, in the virtual stage and in the studio of the “Time” program… I really liked it… I got a lot of experience. And in general I’m very happy…

You couldn’t tell from her appearance that she was very happy. Rather, the girl was worried, and this was understandable, but she coped with herself.

— Ksyusha, but, as far as I understand, you want to maybe become a journalist later? – asked the president.

He wanted something from her. Most likely, elementary talkativeness. For creativity to be successful, everyone had to try. But it hasn’t worked out yet. It was difficult. Why, through a stump-deck. A little more, and one could begin to doubt whether it was worth interrupting the Strategic Development Council for this reason. And Andrei Belousov’s report no longer seemed so reinforced concrete. Well, there were sparks of hope, including hopes for the best…

“Yes, I want to become a journalist,” said Ksyusha.

“This is your first internship,” Mr. Putin tried.

“Yes,” the girl confirmed.

“Great…” Mr. Putin nodded.

He thought about what else to ask. And I came up with:

– What class are you in?

“In seventh grade,” Ksyusha answered diligently.

“As I understand it, you study well…” the president tried.

But it was impossible to demand the impossible from her. She had already suffered enough with this desire of hers. Who knew that they would take it for sale for the president?

“Yes…” she confirmed.

— And there is every chance of entering a university… A prestigious educational institution…

Apparently, to the Faculty of Journalism of Moscow State University named after M.V. Lomonosov. What else corresponds to the indicated characteristics?

— Why do you want to become a journalist? – Mr. Putin asked.

“Well, I… I…” Ksyusha hesitated. “I am very attracted to this profession… This work on television… Because I am a fairly open, sociable person…”

Ksyusha finally broke the news.

“I’m comfortable working with cameras, with text…” she added.

Then the camera pulled back to take a more general shot, and it turned out that there was also Ksyusha’s dad in the room, who was watching over his daughter with that paternal condescending love and at the same time anxiety that cannot be confused with anything else.

“And I think that this is just mine…” the girl finally clarified.

“Convenient, comfortable… With cameras, with text…” Mr. Putin repeated thoughtfully. “But, probably, the most important thing: why are you going to do all this?”

Mr. Putin apparently had some kind of idea in his head, to which he tried to bring Ksyusha closer. But for now she was rather moving away.

No, the creative didn’t work at all. I personally still had hope for my mother.

“Journalism is a very important field of activity,” Vladimir Putin pleased. “Very!” What attracts you most?

“I am most attracted to working on television…” the girl admitted. “This work with people… To provide some important information… Yes, this is an important area…”

“That’s it… We’re coming to the most important thing now,” Mr. Putin perked up. “Giving important information!” Do it truthfully! Do it honestly!

He finished speaking for her, apparently no longer counting on his interlocutor:

– And transparently, so that the people with whom you will do this are really aware of the events taking place and can draw their own conclusions based on the very truthful information that you yourself just said!

No, she just didn’t have time. But that didn’t matter anymore.

The conversation about the high purpose of journalism can be considered to have taken place.

“I wish you success… Dad, mom are always with you…” the president added, apparently also with relief.

Here the operator gave an even more general shot, and it turned out that there was another boy in the room: older than the one who was still sleeping like a log, but at the same time younger than Ksyusha. Apparently their brother.

And perhaps these were not all surprises.

– Is mom far away? – Vladimir Putin clarified.

– No, nearby.

“Hello, Vladimir Vladimirovich,” my mother entered the conversation.

I still had hope for her.

— Do you need to do anything extra? – the president was interested.

– Thank you, everything is wonderful… Everything has already been done… In sufficient quantities… Thanks to everyone… For making Ksyushina’s dream come true…

It was already clear, at least from whom Ksyusha learned her famous talkativeness.

“Thank you to Channel One… And Ksyusha will confirm that they didn’t expect it to happen like that right away…” Mom spoke slowly and even in a sing-song voice and was in no hurry to choose words.

It was impossible to do anything about it. It was only possible to finish.

No, you could have asked your dad or brother about something else, but the risk of plunging headlong into this ocean of hopeless family well-being was too great.

“Would you mind if I said hello to the people who support me and help me in my implementation?” Ksyusha finally asked.

Leonid Yakubovich from Field of Miracles would be proud of her. He’s probably proud.

— Let’s return to the meeting on national projects! – warned the presenter of the Rossiya 24 TV channel.

But this turned out to be cheerful.

“Dear colleagues, let’s continue,” said Vladimir Putin, returning to the chair in the next office. “Please, Denis Valentinovich (Deputy Prime Minister Mr. Manturov.” A.K.)…

– Dear Vladimir Vladimirovich! Dear colleagues!..” exclaimed the Deputy Prime Minister.

“Hello to you all from Ksyusha…” the president interrupted him.

At this point, perhaps, it was not entirely clear to them exactly which Ksyusha he meant. Isn’t that the same one? Yes, everything could have been there, in the next office. Creative is so creative…

Now Mr. Manturov was supposed to take part in the creative process, who simply had to support another explosion of Vladimir Putin’s natural gaiety.

But the Deputy Prime Minister also faltered.

“She will be a journalist,” the president again reminded them of Ksyusha, unknown to them, “and she will objectively cover your work… She promised to do it objectively, objectively…

He even raised his finger.

Mr. Manturov did not seem to notice Mr. Putin’s efforts to create a relaxed atmosphere.

“Okay…” he nodded. “The task you set to create technological sovereignty is cross-cutting for the entire industry…”

Eh, how can we win elections with such people?

And even with such a gap.

Andrey Kolesnikov