The Filker-Russian Collusion Case

Hearing the usual TV news tonight I was suddenly reminded of an incident years ago which could have been -- according to the logic of the news media -- a case of collusion between Russia and, if you please, me.  

Now this was better than a decade ago, back when Bush was still president, at a WorldCon (in LA, I think, but don't quote me).  I was there, as usual, to sing at all the filksings and help peddle albums.  As usual, I'd spent the first afternoon checking out the dealers' room.  Among other things, I found there a table displaying a lot of Russian military insigniae, tools, and even a whole uniform for sale.  I noticed that because -- this being after Glasnost, when 'twas well known that Russia was in really bad economic shape -- I'd heard that the country was so badly off that it couldn't pay the majority of its army.  It made sense that its military was selling off anything small and portable;  that was possibly how the Russian Sci-Fi fans behind the table had paid their way to WorldCon.  I paused to admire the goods, and said some flattering things about the pretty designs -- and noted also that the Russian fans spoke quite fluent American English.  Uhuh.  These guys had some connection to the Russian govt. somewhere.  I wondered why the Russian govt. would bother to send agents -- no matter how far down in the ranks -- to the World Science Fiction Convention.  Were they hoping to pick up crumbs of new US scientific explorations?  Stranger things have happened.

Anyway, a day or so later, after my afternoon concert, I wound up lunching with a couple other fen in the hotel coffee-shop, and one of the Russians asked if he could have one of the empty seats at our table.  Well, sure.  We ate lunch and talked fandom topics for awhile, and the Russian gradually pulled the conversation around to politics.  Of course, I asked how things were in the old country now that the Cold War was over.  He got noticeably morose, admitted that the economy was in bad shape, and then complained that it didn't have to be that way;  "Siberia has more oil reserves than Saudi Arabia", he said, "But we have no way of developing it."

Now I, a mere entertainer, could readily see the answer to that.  "So, go to Bush," I said, munching a french-fry.  "He'll be happy to help out."

"...What?" said the Russian, looking slightly pole-axed.

"President Bush," I explained.  "He's an old oil-man.  He has plenty of contacts in the oil business, and they'd be happy to develop a whole new oil-field.  Just make an appointment with him, and persuade him to put together a consortium of his old buddies to develop Russia's oil industry."

"...Just make an appointment, with the President of the United States..." said the Russian.  "Just like that."

"Well, tell the Russian ambassador to make the appointment, actually," said I, pausing to take another bite of my cheeseburger.  "Given the subject you want to discuss, I'm pretty sure he'll be interested."

"Why?" asked the Russian, pulling his jaw back up.

"To get another oil-source, of course," said I.  "Everyone knows we can't trust the Arabs.  Frankly, we'd much rather deal with Russia."

"...Why?" he asked again.

"Because Russians may be paranoid, but they're not religious fanatics -- and they've given up on trying to conquer the world, which the Arabs haven't.  They can be talked to sensibly, about practical things -- like world peace, and survival."

"...Anything else?" he tried.

"Sure," said I, around a mouthful of beer.  "For one thing, we'd like Russia to stay strong enough to counter-balance China.  For another, we really don't want to see millions of Russians starve."

He just nodded, with his mouth still hanging open. I finished my cheeseburger and beer, and waved for the waitress to bring my bill.

"...Make an appointment with Bush..." he mumbled again, as if wrapping his head around the idea.

"And don't take less than 7% royalties on the deal," I said, getting up.  "Good luck." 

And I walked off and went to pay my bill, and then got back to the filksinging.  I didn't see him again, and the convention was lively enough that I soon forgot about him. 

I didn't even think about that whole exchange until several months later, when I happened to see a sideline article in the news-feeds -- about how Bush had put together a consortium of oil companies to develop untapped petroleum fields... in Siberia.  That set me to wondering.  Did that Russian fan duly report all I'd said to some bureaucrat who considered it seriously, and did the Russian govt. actually take my advice?

Gee, did that mean that I colluded with the Russian govt. to "meddle" in the US's foreign policy?

--Leslie <;)))><