Kiev
A popular joke about Russian president Vladimir Putin these days--like most humor in this part of the world--contains more than a little truth. Putin is sitting in his office and the phone rings. The caller introduces himself as the Moscow representative for Coca-Cola. He congratulates Putin on having brought back the inspiring music of the old Soviet national anthem, but with new lyrics penned to celebrate the "reborn, strong Russia."

"The old Soviet music with these new lyrics," says the Coca-Cola executive, "reminds all of the people what was good about the Soviet times plus what they have to be proud of now as Russians. It instills a sense of patriotism that the previous hymn adopted under Boris Yeltsin [for which no lyrics were ever written] did not. In the same vein as this decision we have a commercial proposal for you."

"We propose that you ditch the red, blue, and white vertical-tricolor Russian flag and replace it with the old Soviet flag," he says. "Only with one small difference. If you will place a small Coca-Cola logo in white on the flag's red background in the bottom right-hand corner our company is ready to finance your entire election campaign. That is, whenever you decide how you will change the Russian constitution so you can run for a third term."

"That is an interesting proposal," answers the Russian president, "but I will have to consult with my advisers before accepting." Putin then hangs up and summons his chief of staff and prime minister.

"Comrades, we

There are two truths in this joke: One--under Putin, the personal financial interests of the state apparatchiki have become completely inbred with the national interest. The entirety of state-owned and controlled enterprises are run by and for the benefit of the cabal around Putin--a collection of former KGB colleagues, St. Petersburg lawyers, and other political cronies. This band of comrades has managed to place all of the large money-making industries under their control--so much so that the thought of losing their grip when the Russian president's second term ends next year is a source of rising anxiety for his inner circle.

The second truth is that the idea of a Putin third term is less of a joke with each passing day. The possibility has been talked about incessantly within political circles as well as on the street--and most Russians have assumed that some form of parliamentary chicanery would eventually be invoked in order to make it a reality. But there have been no official steps proposed along these lines.

That is, until late afternoon on the last Friday in March, when Sergei Mironov, speaker of the Federation Council (the Russian parliament's upper chamber), called for the Russian constitution to be amended to allow Putin to remain in office beyond the end of his second term.