‘the Enforcer’ in Berezovsky’s inner circle, Patarkatsishvili implemented all his most commercial controversial schemes. A smart, strategic businessman, it was always he who found the money.
Badri Patarkatsishvili was born in October 1955 to a family of Jewish Georgians in Tbilisi. Quiet, unassuming, erudite, and an authentic Zionist, Badri, which means ‘son of a little man’, was different in many ways from his best friend. For Berezovsky, his Jewishness suited him and provided business and political opportunities. For Badri, it defined him and he was heavily involved in Israeli charities. Also, in contrast to his confidant, Badri always preferred living in the shadows and shunned the spotlight most of his life. He hated politics and media attention and it was out of character when he later rose to become a key figure in Georgia’s own fevered politics.
Bright and ambitious, Badri’s first job was in a Georgian textile factory, where he rose to become Deputy Director of the plant. After the collapse of the Soviet Union, the factory was privatized at Badri’s initiative and became the private company Maudi Manufacturing, which he took over.
During the 1990s, Badri became co-owner of almost all of Berezovsky’s companies and held executive positions. This is how they worked: Berezovsky generated a huge number of ideas and then Badri decided if they were feasible and profitable. ‘Badri made Boris all his money,’ a former associate who knows both well explained. ‘Badri was his business mentor. Without him, Boris would be nothing and nowhere. He would still be a second-hand car dealer…Boris is incapable of closing a deal and seeing things through. He does not have the patience or the concentration. He is also very bad at judging people. But Badri is the real thing. He checks out the financial details and makes it happen. They had a symbiotic relationship and complemented each other. Badri was his only true business partner. They were very, very close.’
According to Aleksander Korzhakov, former head of the Presidential Security Service: ‘The official position of Badri at that time was Deputy Chairman of the board of directors of LogoVaz. In fact, his responsibility was to ensure the repayment of debts and to provide protection against gangsters.24
Badri’s earliest collaboration with Berezovsky was in 1990 when he became Regional Director for the Caucasus of Berezovsky’s car distribution company LogoVaz. In 1992 he became Deputy Chairman and was awarded a 3.5 per cent share in the company. A year later he moved from Georgia to Russia, first to the town of Lyubertsy, then to a flat in Moscow. Otari Kvantrishvili, the boss of a Georgian organized crime group in Russia (and killed by rivals in 1994), used his connections with Russian authorities to arrange Badri’s residence visas in Lyubertsy and Moscow.
At ORT Badri and Berezovsky soon crossed swords with Vladislav Listyev, one of the country’s most popular television presenters. A charismatic figure, he was appointed by Berezovsky as the new Managing Director, but they fell out over an attempt by Listyev to end the advertising monopoly. The broadcaster believed that the advertising companies were being run by organized crime, which was bringing them millions in revenue, but his decision to take on the mafia cost him his life. On 1 March 1995, a few weeks after taking over as manager, he was shot dead outside his home. Badri was arrested on suspicion of the murder but was later released. However, suspicions over his involvement never disappeared, though he always maintained that the FSB tried to frame him for the killing.
In the summer of 2000 Putin was growing increasingly impatient with the way that Berezovsky and Badri were using ORT and their media empire as a blunt instrument to destabilize his regime. This came to a head in August when a nuclearpowered submarine, the Kursk, sank, killing all 118 crew. ORT television news broadcast interviews with the wives and sisters of the submariners who attacked Putin for handling the incident ineptly. Putin, meanwhile, was on holiday in the Black Sea and was seen jet-skiing while ORT transmitted footage of perilous, icy waters and distraught families. Putin’s refusal to cut his holiday short turned the tragedy into a major political and public relations disaster.
Furious, Putin blamed Channel One’s owner, Berezovsky, for the negative coverage and telephoned him to complain. Berezovsky suggested a meeting, to which Putin agreed. But when Berezovsky arrived the next day, he was greeted not by Putin but by Alexander Voloshin, the shadowy, reclusive head of staff. Voloshin had once advised Berezovsky during his political cultivation of Yeltsin but now, as head of the presidential office, he issued a stark warning to his former friend, ‘You have two weeks to sell back your shares in ORT or you will suffer the same fate as Gusinsky.’ Berezovsky refused and demanded a meeting with Putin personally.
Three days later Berezovsky was summoned to meet the President at the Kremlin. It was a heated exchange, with the two denouncing each other face to face. A clearly tense Putin first listened to Berezovsky as he mounted a defence of ORT’s coverage. According to Berezovsky, the President then coldly repeated the threats made by Voloshin and made his own position only too clear: ‘You are starting a fight against me. Your channel is interviewing prostitutes who say they are wives and sisters.’
Berezovsky replied that they were genuine relations and that they had already granted interviews to the state TV company but, as these were not broadcast, they approached ORT.
The President was unimpressed: ‘I want the state to control ORT.’
‘How?’ asked Berezovsky. ‘It belongs to me.’
‘We’ll take control. You need to sell.’
‘I don’t need to sell.’
The President then got up, said goodbye, and walked out. It was the last time they spoke.25
A shaken Berezovsky was now faced with the full reality of his decision to back Putin for President. Shortly afterwards, he was again questioned about the alleged embezzlement of Aeroflot funds. Unperturbed, Berezovsky ensured that ORT continued its hostile coverage of the handling of the Kursk disaster.
After his former cheerleader refused to sell his ORT shares and ignored his threats, Putin approached Badri. At that stage the two were still on friendly terms. Badri was telephoned by the head of the FSB, Nikolai Patrushev, and summoned to his office. From there, he was escorted to the Kremlin and greeted by an impatient Putin. ‘What strange game is Berezovsky playing?’ he asked. ‘I want both of you to clear out of television. No one has the right to take risks with television.’26 Putin said they could sell the shares and negotiate a price with media minister Mikhail Lesin. As Badri departed, the President said that they were friends but if he stayed in television they would become enemies.
Badri subsequently met with Mikhail Lesin, who offered $300 million for the ORT shares - the maximum the state would pay. But Berezovsky still refused to sell. Instead, he announced that he would put the shares into a trust to be managed by a group of journalists and other representatives (a bluff that came to nothing).
The rift between Putin and Berezovsky was now irreparable. In October 2000 Putin was asked by a journalist about his former supporter. ‘The state has a cudgel in its hands that you use to hit just once, but on the head,’ he replied.27 (He later told reporters, with a half-smile, that his favourite judo move was the ‘deashibati’, a swift attack that knocks one’s opponent off his feet.28) On 17 October the media tycoon spent two hours at the Prosecutor-General’s office in Moscow, facing further questioning over the Aeroflot allegations.
A week later Berezovsky mounted the steps of his private jet, a Bombardier Global Express, to take him from Moscow to Nice, a journey he had made hundreds of times. On this occasion, however, there was to be no return flight. Life for Russia’s most controversial oligarch would never be the same again.
‘It’s like the Wild West out there [in Russia]. A