The Scene: It was a dark and stormy night in 1991 [activate thunder machine]. The Russian Federation, just pulling itself up by the bootstraps after the collapse of the Soviet Union, holds its first democratic presidential elections - a pompous pageantry complete with balloons, buttons and general buffoonery [activate applause machine]. The winner of the election, oil tycoon and former KGB chief Georgiy Borisovich Bogdanovich, bravely leads his country for four turbulent years. Then, in 1994, Bogdanovich suffers a stunning defeat at the hands of a young liberal whippersnapper, Boris Vladimirovich Klintonov, who became notorious for his political prowess no less than his wanton womanizing. Despite these apparent character flaws, Klintonov, riding on the tsunami of a booming economy, is elected into office for two straight terms. Unfortunately, his place in the pantheon of democracy is somewhat soiled by a sordid affair that the Russian historians will probably never refer to as ‘Zipper Gate.'

This embarrassing blow, which threatened to bring the Kremlin to its very knees, involved a willing young intern named Veronika and probably more than one plush couch in the presidential red room. Klintonov manages to escape looming impeachment by launching - prudently, some argue, these are very dangerous times - a crack-of-dawn cruise missile sortie against a pill factory in northeastern African country named Sudan. Some argue the bombing was a cheap attempt to salvage some historical respectability. The western world can only watch in horror at the spectacle.

Now, Georgiy Bogdanovich the Elder (the family patriarch) sees his chance for political revenge: his son, Georgiy Dubyanovich Bogdanovich Jr., who has a bit of a speech impediment, is nominated as the presidential contender to run against Klintonov's vice minister, Abercromby Gorbano­vich. However, Russia's fledgling democracy is already showing signs of wear and tear as the big rig of democracy grinds to a screeching halt on Election Day 2000 [activate wheels-grinding machine]. Despite Gorba­novich attracting more popular votes than Bogdanovich, and even getting a presidential nod from the talking heads on the evening news, the Bogdanovich Jr. camp claims a last-minute victory in his brother's backwater Banana Republic of Orange. The issue was only resolved by the Russian Supreme Court, top heavy with Bogdanovich-party apparatchiks, some of them probably members of the siloviki, and we all know who they are. Despite massive protests on the streets, Bogdanovich Jr. secured the golden keys to the Kremlin and another battered page to the endless book entitled, Russia's Road to Recovery.

Moscow's 2000 campaign revealed inherent flaws in the machinery of democracy. Most importantly, there was the so-called ‘chad' glitch. Since Russia is of course a poor country, it cannot afford state-of-the-art voting machines that exist in cool places like the United States of America [activate trumpet-blast machine]. Thus, deprived Russians, many of them suffering from poor vision and worse healthcare, could not properly identify the candidate of their choice, not that there was much of a choice anyways [activate violin machine]. Thus, many of the poor peasants pushed their gnarly pencil tips through the wrong chad hole, casting a precious vote for the wrong apparatchik. Many times their votes - illegible to the vote counters - were coldly tossed into the incinerator altogether.

Russian political analyst and part-time taxi driver, Volga Vulgarovich, expressed dismay with what he described as a "wake up call for Russian democracy."

"Of course, we cannot expect Russia to have sleek electronic voting machines and free coffee and donuts on Election Day like in America, but damn we can sure dream," Vulgarovich said between thoughtful drags on a cheap Russian-made cigarette.

One of the first challenges to confront Georgiy Dubyanovich Bogdano­vich Jr. was to determine exactly how much time a president could spend at the ranch while still looking busy. According to an article in the Washington Post, Bogdanovich Jr. has taken 250 days off as of August 2003. That's a whopping 27 percent of his presidency.

Now compare that to the amount of ‘working vacation' time provided to that minuscule part of the Russian population who are not listed in Forbes magazine as oligarchs. This steaming lump of humanity reportedly spends up to 150 hours per week in factories, fishing boats and filthy unemployment lines.

Vulgarovich summed up the situation with a stoic shrug, "Da, the picture is pretty dim, noo schto."

Bogdanovich was forced out of early semi-retirement by a sensational terrorist attack that caught the Motherland with her knickers about the knees, so to speak. Dastardly mastermind Osama bin Laden was duly blamed and the Kremlin swiftly opened military operations in Afghanistan in late 2001, followed by the folly of an Iraq attack in early 2003 - all against the will of the United Nations and most of its traditional allies. Today, Russia's expensive war machine is being pushed to the brink, while the average Ivan on the street is beginning to wonder, when he's not tippled pink on potato mash, about domestic issues, like the condition of their roads, bridges and those dam leaking levees.

Skeletons in the Closet

In 2004, Bogdanovich faced the prospects of being ousted from power by the democratic contender, Ivan Kerrich, a rather dry, pompous character who the ruthless Russian media has labeled ‘Kardboard Kerrich.' But here is where things get really creepy. American journalists dug into the past history of these two dark cardinals of the Russian political scene and uncovered some disturbing similarities. Both men, it turns out, belong to an ultra-secret society known as ‘Bones' [activate gasp machine]. In fact, the college society is so secret that Bogdanovich admitted in a televised interview on the political show Meet the Press, "It's so secret we can't talk about it."

Author Alexandra Robbins, who wrote Secrets of the Tomb, got the inside scoop on this "ultimate old boys' club" and gave her first-hand account to CBS News Correspondent Morley Safer.

"Bones is so tiny. That's what makes this staggering," says Robbins. "There are only 15 people a year [selected], which means there are about 800 living members at any one time..."

The fact that two Russians from the same tiny elite competed against each other for the most coveted desk job in the free world should be of no small concern for the global village.

Secret societies in a democracy aside, Bogdanovich, who appealed to Russia's staunch Orthodox community, beat Kardboard Kerrich for a second term in office. Today, things look pretty much the same as before: Russia is plagued with war, scandals, congressional investigations and more war. There was even a recent case of a KGB agent being exposed of her secret identity by a top-ranking official. One man was convicted of the federal crime, but Bogdanovich exerted his executive muscle and commuted the sentence. Clearly, the superpower capital is abusing its democratic credentials.

Now, yet another presidential election year is approaching. One thing is certain, however, in this political landscape of mud and blood and broken bottles, Bogdanovich - unless he decides to scrap the Russian constitution - will not be able to run again in 2008. This leaves Kremlin analysts pondering who Bogdanovich will choose as his successor.

Dynastic Politics 2008

It does not take a sleuth to see a strange trend that is unraveling in the power capital: For the past two decades, the Land of Vodka has been ruled with an iron fist by two competing clans: the Bogdanoviches and the Klintonovs. And now it appears that the dynastic torch will be passed once again to a Klintonov, this time Boris Klintonov's tough-as-nails better half, Helga Klintonova, his senatorial wife. But her political destiny may hang on the simple question: Is Russia ready for a black president?  

By Robert Bridge