By Vitaly KNIAZHANSKY, The Day
Dear Mr. President:
The time has come when, rather than writing in a newspaper, I must write
to you directly, esteemed Leonid Danylovych. Because the topic is the Constitution
both of us respect. Indeed, as its guarantor and having sworn allegiance
to it, you may be within your rights to deviate from its spirit and letter,
while I, an ordinary newspaper man, have to watch my step, lest my explicit
respect for the supreme law of the land lead me astray.
For this reason, I must admit that I have been led astray in
my attempts to teach the President of my country to abide by constitutional
norms. I stand corrected.
I became frightened reading your edict on additional measures to improve
the performance of bodies of the internal affairs and volunteer units to
protect public order. A nice edict, and most importantly, well-timed. What
is to be done, considering that the militia receive no pay? Of course,
revive the old narodna druzhyna [voluntary people's patrol organized
in the USSR since 1958 to assist the militia in maintaining public order,
combating hooliganism, etc. - Ed.], because no one will ask you
to pay them, and they will voluntarily protect you, especially during the
elections.
But who will protect me? No, I am not afraid of robbers, because all
the loot they could count on is in my refrigerator. I am afraid of phone
calls from outraged readers. A few days ago I received a call from a district
militia inspector in Talne rayon in Cherkasy oblast, which is almost native
to me. The officer was in rapture from the campaign meeting you organized
for the local law enforcement authorities. He said that even his mother-in-law
had never cooked such a tasty treat. And they were even given some money,
but on one condition: to see to it that everyone in the village votes for
Kuchma. "We'll do everything possible and impossible," my acquaintance
said, "after receiving such attention."
I certainly would not want to get knocked in the head the way one small
shareholder from your native Dnipropetrovsk oblast did after complaining
that he was not paid dividends. He would not write to a newspaper. "What
do you mean?" he told me. "You don't know what they do to people refusing
to sign for Kuchma..."
So I decided to sign, writing with both hands, and there was just one
letter left to write when the phone rang again. You will never guess who
called. The number one government economist, I would even call him a minister.
We met in an elevator once, by sheer chance, but the man's reputation had
been at stake ever since. The man sounded tearful. "You are lucky, you
can write all you want and I am expecting the pink slip every day, there
is an internal investigation underway." I was stunned. I knew him as a
very decent man and could hardly imagine anybody suspecting him of contacts
with the free press.
To think that other people suffer because of me is unbearable. So I
am quitting. Maybe I will go into business. And I have a very nice proposal
for you, Mr. President: let's do it together. You will have to look for
a job before long anyway. I can guarantee success, because I have a business
plan and everything is in it. The market is immense: 50 million customers
(two million down, unfortunately). You provide a state contract, and I
will launch a serial production of individual safety gags, quickly and
quietly, in the shadows. The demand will be mind-boggling, especially before
the election. Please think it over and say yes. We will earn more cash
than we can carry.
Respectfully, Your Former Opponent, Vitaly KNIAZHANSKY, The Day






