Wednesday, March 22, 2006

Hitting them where it hurts

Coming after the Ukraine gas crisis, this looks like another example of Russia using economic levers seasoned with an unconvincing pretext to stick it to near-abroad countries who hold their heads up too high:
RUSSIA TO CRACK DOWN ON WINE IMPORTS FROM MOLDOVA, GEORGIA
Interfax news agency (Russia), March 21, 2006

Tight restrictions may be imposed on the import of Moldovan and Georgian wines to Russia in the near future, Russia's chief epidemiologist Gennady Onishchenko told journalists on Monday.

"We are strongly concerned about the situation with Moldovan and Georgian wines," Onishchenko said. Heavy metals, pesticides and other hazardous substances were discovered in wine imports from the two countries, he said.

The official, however, declined to provide further details.
So, after the "gas war" comes the "wine war"? At least it's got more alliterative value. And I'm sure these sour grapes have nothing to do with the souring of relations between Russia and a couple of its more unruly former subjects. The memo to Tbilisi and Chisinau really reads, "Give up Abkhazia and Transnistria (respectively), and stop flirting with NATO, and let the wine flow as before. Don't you love us anymore?"

I'm no economist, but my guess is that this is probably a bigger potential problem for Moldova, especially if the Russians decide to extend their "concern" to fruits & veggies or processed products like apple juice. Since it seems like just a war of words for the time being, going after the wine is first and foremost an attack on Georgian and Moldovan national pride. After all, wine is the product that is most closely associated in the Russian mind with either of those countries.

What Russia really needs to do is cut down on the amount of counterfeit wine and cognac (not to mention vodka) production that takes place on its own territory, which has done a lot to give Georgian and Moldovan wines a bad name in recent years. Since some fake hooch is no doubt mixed and bottled in Moldova and Georgia, better customs enforcement (cue laugh track) would also be a remedy.

And maybe "Russia's chief epidemiologist" should be more concerned about the epidemic of glue-sniffing among street kids, or the epidemic of industrial-strength alcohol consumption (I don't just mean the intensity of consumption but the fact that the products consumed are often not ones intended for human consumption) in Russian villages, than with imperfect imported wines.

As someone who's experienced the unpleasant consequences of consuming fake Barza Neagra ("Chorny Aist") cognac bought from someone selling it out of a bag on the sidewalk near Belorussky station, I support changes that will bring about the purity of grape-based potent potables, but I have a hard time believing this is such a change.

I suppose that another possible motivation for this policy change (if it really goes beyond words to deeds, that is) could be an attempt by Russia, Inc., to promote domestic wines from the south of Russia.

On a lighter note, "We are strongly concerned about the situation with Moldovan and Georgian wines" is the kind of official statement that the late bard Vladimir Vysotsky could have had a songwriting field day with.

3 comments:

Val said...

How long do you think Russians can survive without cheap and good Moldovan and Georgian wines? Isn't the West afraid of a sober Russia more than of a drunk one?

Cheers mate!

Anonymous said...

I once imbibed a small bottle of what I determined later to probably be bootleged vodka. It had a nice drawing of Stalin on the front with the phrase "No Steps Backward" on the front. My god, that shit was gross. I still don't know why I finished it, but I've never felt worse in my life.

Scraps of Moscow said...

You finished it because you wanted to take "no steps backward." Onward, to the bottom of the bottle and the last bit of murky liquid - and brutal hangover, no doubt. I vaguely recall two incidents when I was unfortunate enough to consume questionable vodka. Once was in SPB in the summer of '96, before the ruble revaluation - if I recall correctly (though I may get the figures wrong), the cheapest half-liter bottle of stoli (with the peel-off cap, so there really was no turning back) cost about 10000 rubles, and one time we got one that was no good. But I am pretty sure we drank it all. Oh, to be young and stupid again (as opposed to, say, old and stupid).