Militia (police) bars the elected Klimentyev from Nizhny Novgorod City Hall

Klimentyev, Andrey (Anatolyevich), popularly known as Klim, Klimentator (born August 22, 1954) — a notoriously famous Nizhny Novgorod businessman: a "new Russian" who is perpetually being arrested by the authorities.

Elected Mayor of Nizhny Novgorod by popular vote in 1998, he was immediately deprived of his freedom, thereby setting the record for the shortest time in power among municipal heads in the Russian Federation.

He runs a video blog in which he predicts political events in Nizhny Novgorod and across Russia.

Nature of the Phenomenon

A leading representative of the Gorky "gilded youth," who from childhood tested the Nizhny Novgorod power structure for weak points, seeking to inject greater dynamism into Nizhny Novgorod's social world.

An acquaintance and former associate of Russian politician Boris Nemtsov, with whose help he obtained a state loan that was subsequently found, in the course of legal proceedings, to have been embezzled.

Information metabolism type — sensory-logical extravert "Zhukov".

Milestones of the Journey

Andrey Anatolyevich Klimentyev was born on August 22, 1954, in Gorky, into the family of a party-economic functionary responsible for supplying agricultural machinery to the region's farming enterprises.

After finishing school, Klimentyev enrolled in the automotive faculty of the Gorky Polytechnic Institute, but dropped out in his fifth year.

In 1982, his father died under dramatic circumstances — he drowned in his car during a trip to one of the districts of Gorky Region. Following this, the three Klimentyev brothers were arrested and brought to trial in proceedings that bore the hallmarks of a show trial and were widely seen as politically motivated.

Andrey Klimentyev was charged with distributing pornographic video material (Article 228 of the RSFSR Criminal Code, for viewing the film "Emmanuelle") and "attempted fraud on an especially large scale" (Article 147, for playing poker), and was sentenced to 8 years' imprisonment.

In 1989 he was released and went into business. He became the head of the board of trustees of a Foundation for Assistance to Prisoners. During the 1990s he owned a nightclub, several supermarkets, and a controlling stake in the Navashino Shipbuilding Plant.

In September–October 1993 he actively supported President Yeltsin's Decree No. 1400, taking a stand against the Supreme Soviet of the Russian Federation. According to Kommersant, in the autumn of 1993 he financed the election campaigns of Boris Nemtsov for the Federation Council and Tatyana Chertoritskaya for the State Duma, spending around 100 million rubles.

Ties with Nemtsov

Klimentyev had known Boris Nemtsov since 1980 and was his friend until the mid-1990s.

In the early 1990s, Andrey Anatolyevich and Boris Yefimovich frequently displayed their friendship in public and on television. The relationship took on a new dimension when, at the end of 1991, Boris Yeltsin appointed Boris Nemtsov head of the Nizhny Novgorod Region administration. As an older comrade and a practitioner of market economics, Klimentyev became Nemtsov's unofficial adviser and exerted a noticeable influence on the decisions he made. In any case, people in the know said that the businessman could walk straight into his friend's office at will, as the saying goes, kicking the door open with one foot. Since closeness to power is a significant competitive advantage, it is no surprise that Klimentyev's affairs quickly prospered. Nemtsov, who later declared "war on the oligarchs" together with Chubais, would announce to the entire country that during his tenure as governor there had been no oligarchs in Nizhny Novgorod Region. The residents of Nizhny Novgorod always received these words with irony, since they knew perfectly well who had been the foremost oligarch under Governor Nemtsov.

In 1993, with Nemtsov's help, he managed to obtain a state loan of $30 million, part of which was subsequently embezzled. On October 17, 1995, he was arrested in Tashkent. While in pre-trial detention, Klimentyev ran for office twice: in 1995 for the State Duma, and in 1996 for the Nizhny Novgorod City Duma. On April 21, 1997, he was found guilty under Article 160, Part 3 of the Criminal Code of the Russian Federation ("Misappropriation of another person's property"), sentenced to 1.5 years' imprisonment, and released in the courtroom on the grounds that he had already served this term in pre-trial detention.

During the trial, Klimentyev accused Nemtsov of accepting and extorting bribes. According to him, Nemtsov had asked him to repay a $2 million debt owed to the American Bank of New York on behalf of Nizhnygorodets Bank, to which a representative of the Bank of New York, Natalya Gurfinkel-Kagalovskaya, had previously transferred funds (declared to have been a mistaken transfer). Nemtsov allegedly wanted $400,000 of the returned sum for himself. Nemtsov subsequently had to approach the director of the Nizhny Novgorod state enterprise Nizhpoligraf and persuade him to mortgage a new building that was not subject to privatization. The deal was carried out thanks to the intervention of Anatoly Chubais, who was then head of the State Property Committee. The loan was not repaid, and the building passed to Inkombank.

Furthermore, Klimentyev stated, Nemtsov expected to receive $800,000 for helping the shipbuilding plant secure a loan.

Klimentyev recounted that the question of issuing the loan had been discussed at Yegor Gaidar's dacha together with Nemtsov, Finance Minister Boris Fyodorov, and his deputy Andrey Vavilov. Nemtsov himself did not deny that the meeting at Gaidar's dacha had taken place, but called Klimentyev's accusations slander.

Attempt to Become Mayor

On March 29, 1998, he was elected mayor of Nizhny Novgorod with 34 % of the vote; however, on April 1 the election was declared invalid: a new criminal case was opened against Klimentyev, and on April 2, 1998, he was arrested.

On May 27, Klimentyev was sentenced to six years' imprisonment with confiscation of property.

Attempt to Become Governor

On October 3, 2000, Klimentyev was released on parole, and in 2001 he took part in the gubernatorial election in Nizhny Novgorod Region, finishing in fifth place.

At the time, the President's plenipotentiary representative in the Volga Federal District, Sergey Kirienko, declared before the election: "I will resign if Klimentyev wins."

During his election campaign, Klimentyev came under intense informational pressure: posters appeared around the city featuring images of prostitutes, criminals, and homosexuals urging people to vote for Klimentyev. In the autumn of 2002, Klimentyev ran again in the Nizhny Novgorod mayoral election, which he also lost.

Attempt to Become a State Duma Deputy

In 2003, Klimentyev ran for the State Duma in electoral district No. 120.

This time, so as not to generate a "protest wave," he was removed from the ballot a month before polling day.

The pretext for canceling his registration was allegedly fraudulent signatures collected during his nomination as a candidate. Forged signature sheets had been inserted into the general set, with the forgers even managing to sign on Klimentyev's behalf.

The Grain Affair

Having concluded that becoming a people's elected representative in any foreseeable historical period was not going to happen, Klimentyev sold off many of his assets and retired to Bolsheboldinsky District of Nizhny Novgorod Region, where he became a shareholder in an agricultural enterprise near Pushkin's estate.

In January 2006, Klimentyev was seized on charges of having given a verbal order to a combine operator to thresh the wrong grain. After a series of court proceedings, in 2007 he was sentenced to two and a half years' imprisonment.

While in prison, Klimentyev wrote an autobiography entitled "Between Power and Prison."

In January 2009, a court reduced Klimentyev's sentence by two months.

Klimentyev has since been released.

Quotes

On the "Navashino Millions"

« The "Navashino case" arose from the stupidity of Boris Nemtsov, who by 1996 had begun to fear me as an entrepreneur and financier independent of him. This case is political, having arisen at Nemtsov's direct order — he "put out a contract" on me with regional prosecutor Fedotov and city prosecutor Shevelev. Beyond removing me from the picture, the governor also had a purely personal interest in the matter. Having received an $18 million loan from the Ministry of Finance, he had no interest in seeing through the project to build modern dry-cargo vessels at the Navashino shipyard. Of the entire sum, only $2.5 million went to Norway, while the bulk of the loan remained in Russia. What was that money spent on?

Under heavy pressure from the regional administration, the director of the Navashino shipyard, Kislyakov, transferred $500,000 into the authorized capital of NBD-Bank and deposited $2 million there. "Freezing" funds earmarked for the purchase of plant equipment in NBD-Bank accounts constituted misuse of the loan. This was stated in a letter from the Ministry of Finance sent to Nizhny Novgorod after a routine audit of the enterprise's accounts. The regional administration was ordered to return the money and channel it to its intended purpose. But returning the $2 million was impossible, since it had gone toward redeeming regional bond obligations, known to the public as "nemtsovki." Incidentally, these were the same kind of pyramid scheme as MMM shares, "Khoper," or "Selenga."

Nemtsov was badly frightened at the time. The presidential election year had arrived, and he long refused to believe that Yeltsin could win. Imagine if Zyuganov or Lebed had come to power in 1996. In that scenario, Nemtsov would have gone to prison for abuse of office or embezzlement of public funds. After all, he had committed other "artistic works" beyond the manipulations with the "nemtsovki." For instance, Nemtsov's administration and prosecutor Shevelev embezzled money belonging to the Norwegian company "Russian Shipping" — 14 billion rubles held in regional administration accounts. While that money sat there, it accrued interest of 1 billion rubles a year, which fed a great many officials. A group of individuals withdrew the said funds without a court order and channeled them into private financial structures belonging to those same officials.

For example, I was convicted as a co-owner of the firm "Aroko" on the grounds that 100 million rubles of "Navashino money" had been transferred to its account. But 185 million rubles from the Navashino shipyard's funds were transferred to accounts at Garantiya Bank, of which Sergey Kirienko was a co-owner and chairman of the board at the time. The bank never returned that money, and Kirienko was not even a party to my case, since by the time the verdict was handed down he was already Prime Minister. This is how a forced confiscation was carried out in violation of Article 35 of the Russian Constitution — a confiscation for which no one was ever held accountable. No, Nemtsov and the rest of them had much to lose had the truth about the "Navashino millions" reached a court of law.

Thus, had the investigation and trial proceeded according to the requirements of the law, Nemtsov would have had to answer for $15 million, Brevnov of NBD-Bank for $500,000, and I would have answered somehow for the $2.5 million that went to Norway. Incidentally, the loan was to be repaid in two and a half years, yet I was charged with theft four months after receiving it. Imagine someone lending you money for a year, and six weeks later showing up at your door with the police to collect! What happened next is well known to all. Prosecutors Fedotov and Shevelev, investigator Denisov, and Judge Popov successfully accomplished the task assigned to them.

Shevelev and Denisov, moreover, sold my ship and repair dock — with a combined value of $7.5 million — before the court had even delivered its verdict. They told me something to the following effect: you're going to prison regardless, so at least this way we'll return something to the state. I do not know what became of the proceeds ($2.5 million for the ship and $3 million for the dock). When I inquired about their ultimate fate, district prosecutor Zvyagintsev gave the vague reply that "the money went for the benefit of the people." It would be interesting to learn for the benefit of which people it went, and by how much it benefited them.

You might ask whether I am slandering all these prominent and influential individuals. But if my words contain malicious falsehoods, why has not a single one of them taken me to court? Admittedly, Boris Nemtsov attempted to do so, but nothing good came of it for him. Acting on Nemtsov's complaint, one of Nizhny Novgorod's finest investigators, Konstantin Zakharov, conducted an inquiry in October–November 2000 (case no. 68135). He established that Nemtsov should at the time have been sitting in the dock alongside me, rather than appearing as a witness in my case.

On that basis, all of Nemtsov's witness testimony should be annulled, and much in the case would then have to be revised. That is precisely why regional prosecutor Fedotov buried Zakharov's findings, and why Zakharov himself — a competent and principled man, the likes of whom few remain in the prosecutor's office — was dismissed. But Konstantin Zakharov is alive and living in our city. What prevents Moscow's anti-corruption fighters, or the ubiquitous journalists, from approaching him and hearing his view of the "Navashino case"?

As a result of all these foolish and criminal actions, a city-forming enterprise was destroyed — one that has been unable to recover for seven years. In 1995 the Navashino shipyard was "ahead of all Russia," yet in 2002 it was patching up "old rust-buckets." When I was in charge, 7,500 people worked at the plant; today there are 1,500. The average wage then was $300 a month; today it is $50. Perhaps my project — which the court ruled fraudulent — really was impossible to execute?

But then why was it carried out in Astrakhan two years later? Incidentally, the dry-cargo vessels built there are being sold to the very same firms with which I had once signed contracts. Astrakhan Region managed to establish production of those merchant ships. Nizhny Novgorod Region today has just one modern dry-cargo vessel — and that one exists only as a model, which to this day sits in my office.

By the court's verdict I was found guilty of embezzling $2 million and sentenced to six years in a general-regime penal colony. At the very end of this judicial marathon, the Supreme Court — under the influence of First Deputy Prime Minister Nemtsov — upheld the verdict but found me and Kislyakov guilty of stealing only $50,000. So it turned out that Klimentyev, whose net worth in 1995 stood at roughly $100 million, had stolen $25,000 — approximately the value of the copper gates of the Navashino shipyard. Would you steal 1 ruble if you had 4,000 rubles in hand?

Yet genuine harm was indeed inflicted on Nizhny Novgorod Region. The regional budget had to repay the $18 million loan plus $2 million in interest. In total, the region lost around $100 million on this affair, since a promising enterprise was devalued and dry-cargo production was derailed. Thousands of the shipyard's shareholders, its workers, and the residents of Navashino also suffered as a result of this crime. Meanwhile, prosecutor Shevelev received a centrally located apartment worth approximately $160,000. The obliging Judge Popov likewise improved his housing situation.

People often ask whether I believe the truth in this case will ultimately prevail. Some say the hour will come when people close to the president will need compromising material on Nemtsov, and that the Prosecutor General's Office will then take an interest in the "Navashino millions" affair. It is precisely this eternal waiting for the "right moment" that I find most repugnant. I believe that when a person has committed a crime, one must deal with it immediately. And those who conceal a crime should face criminal liability for concealment. Moreover, this applies not only to Nemtsov. There are also prosecutor Shevelev and investigator Denisov, who, in my view, likewise broke the criminal law.

The case against them has been before the court for two years. It sat unexamined for an entire year; then the judge read through the documents, clutched her head, and... has left it unexamined for another year. Imagine — one day in court, then a year's recess! And no one, neither the chairman of the regional court, Vorobyov, nor the "independent" Judge Popov, seems to notice. That is why I say that in Nizhny Novgorod Region, as throughout Russia, there is no independent judiciary. It is therefore all the more important that at least one person should fight against this system by subjecting it to publicity and public opinion.

In addition, at the end of 1998 I lodged a complaint about this case with the European Court of Human Rights. It is only this year that the queue for examining Russian cases from 1998 has come around. Previously, the European judges were more preoccupied with human rights violations in Chechnya. But this year they are delivering verdicts on the claims of a group of Chernobyl survivors, then on a case involving one of our businessmen, and after that — on my case. At any rate, I was promised that my case would be considered before the end of 2003.

I am almost certain of victory. The point is that I have the right to be present in the court that tries me. I submitted a petition to be brought to court, and the appellate instance denied it. This constitutes a violation of the Russian Constitution and the International Covenant on Human Rights. Second: I have the right to examine prosecution and defense witnesses. The Norwegian witnesses who testified against me and those who testified in my favor were not examined in court, yet the prosecution witnesses' statements were entered into the case file. This is wholly at odds with the European Convention.

And third: charges must be set out in comprehensible language. Yet my case file contains 600 pages in English and Norwegian that were never translated before the conclusion of the trial. Two years ago the Supreme Court overturned a verdict in a case involving a single redacted word in a foreign language. In my case it was not a word, not a line, but 600 pages! So I expect a favorable outcome.

What specifically do I expect from the European Court's ruling? There is no question of recovering money here. I want the high court to characterize the conduct of Judge Popov and the appellate instance as a violation of human rights. If that is confirmed, it means the people who convicted me violated the country's constitution and international law. A ruling of the European Court is binding and enforceable in Russia. Let the Chairman of the Supreme Court then lodge a protest against the verdict in my case.

Unfortunately, without a ruling from the European Court it is impossible to secure the protection of one's rights within our judicial system. The Nizhegorodsky District Court needed only a week, timed to coincide with an election, to take my child away from me. But it has not managed in two years to hear the case against prosecutor Shevelev. What is the point of going to court, then? When a case is decided in their favor, it moves quickly. When it is not in their favor, it drags on forever. Judge Popov, who serves as deputy chairman of the regional court, may discourse at length on human rights and democracy. But when a show trial is under way, he tramples on the defendant's rights without a second thought.

Lawyers who collude with investigators and judges see all of this and say nothing. Even our human-rights advocates — who regard themselves as heirs to Sakharov's cause — raise no objection. One gets the impression that this matters only to those who have been caught in the judicial "meat grinder." But I am only one of many people who have passed through our courts — "the most humane and just courts in the world." That is why I would like the European Court's verdict to serve not so much as the vindication of businessman Klimentyev as the condemnation of a system of judicial tyranny and lawlessness.
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On officials

« How do you make officials do their jobs and stop stealing? When I ran for mayor or governor, city and regional officials would frighten the public — and themselves — with warnings: "Just wait until Klimentyev arrives and sends us all packing!" At my campaign meetings I would answer: "Those who actually do their jobs I will not only leave alone — I'll raise their salaries. As for those who rode on the backs of the people, I'll ride on their backs myself." Those words were often met with applause.

I believe that before replacing officials, one must change the system in which they operate. Then many of those bosses will resign of their own accord. You set such a boss a programme of action, assign him concrete tasks, and demand that they be carried out on time. Fails once, muddles things a second time, falls flat on his face a third time — for that he should face either prison or a fine heavy enough to keep him paying it off for the rest of his life. He will then flee his comfortable post as if doused with boiling water.

The weakness of the current authorities lies in the fact that officials do not do their proper job, are accountable to no one, yet regulate financial flows while not forgetting their own pockets. Losing such trough-lovers is not merely painless — it is necessary. Their places will be taken by people capable of addressing new challenges and achieving the required results. It is only the officials themselves who think they are irreplaceable. It is in our common interest to thoroughly renew the system of power, so that they can prove their indispensability somewhere else.
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On investors in the 1990s

« Nemtsov liked to repeat that our region led Russia in investment volumes. In reality, the leader in attracting investment in the mid-1990s was Novgorod Region, under Governor Prusak.

But the central television channels constantly confused the names of the two regions and attributed others' achievements to the more "high-profile" Nemtsov.

On one occasion, through my efforts, three or four million dollars came into the region from Europe. I told him at the time: "Borya, I have brought you more money than all your so-called investors put together."
"Between Power and Prison"
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Interesting facts

  • In his youth, Klimentyev attended an underground salon for jazz enthusiasts organized in his apartment by a lecturer in scientific Leninism, where he first met Boris Nemtsov.
  • He calls himself "a man from Mars," explaining that this was how he was described in a piece published by the official Soviet newspaper Gorkovskiy Rabochiy.
  • If one is to believe what the Gorky newspapers wrote during the 1982 trial, Klimentyev and his brothers lived exclusively off the proceeds of card-sharping and the sale of pornographic cassettes — which they also allegedly used to corrupt young and innocent girls. Klimentyev himself maintains that his main source of income at the time was a construction business; that he played cards for no more than amusement; and that his home video library contained the same films that, ten years later, would flood our television screens.
  • The Klimentyev trial, despite press coverage, was closed, so it is hardly surprising that the case soon acquired a coat of rumor and myth. It was said that the brothers had been handed over to the "organs" for retribution by the failed son-in-law of Brezhnev, the illusionist Igor Kio, who could not forgive them for a large sum they had won from him at cards. One newspaper also reported that in his final statement Andrei Klimentyev allegedly declared: "Citizens of the court, there is no need to judge me by Soviet laws. Better let me go to America or Europe — I'll make a living and get by anywhere." For this ideologically harmful remark, the court replaced the four-year sentence it had purportedly intended to impose with the extremely harsh penalty of eight years' imprisonment.
  • According to Klimentyev, in the mid-1980s he was imprisoned in Chita Region, not far from the penal colony where Khodorkovsky is currently held, and of the seven years he served in the camps he spent a total of roughly one year in solitary confinement.
  • When Klimentyev was removed from the ballot the day before the 1998 election, it generated such a powerful wave of protest that it threatened to engulf the remaining frontrunners entirely. As a result, 10,000 ballots had to be declared invalid — an extraordinarily high figure for Nizhny Novgorod — in order to push the "against all" option into third place. Tellingly, the next issue of the magazine Itogi appeared at the time with a photograph of Klimentyev on its cover and the headline "The 'Against All' Candidate Has Beaten the Kremlin."
  • One of the last charges leveled against Klimentyev was that he had been spotted riding through the Bolshoe Boldino district in an antique carriage belonging to Pushkin. This information was circulated by the newspaper Leninskaya Smena.

Official resources

See also