By Vilhelm Konnander at Global Voices
Being a road engineer in Russia must be a nightmare. The combination of harsh climate, mud and marshlands, with annual frost and thaw, makes the upkeep of many roads next to an impossible task. In spring, some roads simply float off. Recently, Russian roads were ranked #125 out of 139 in the world by the World Economic Forum’s 2011-2012 Global Competitiveness Report.
One might assume that most Russians would have resigned to the task, but, whereas in a country like Canada with similar conditions, few eyebrows are raised, in Russia roads have become a stain on national pride, in man’s constant struggle to tame the forces of nature. Thus, last year, the then Prime Minister Vladimir Putin announced a massive road construction programme, to double the rate of building.
As with most overambitious plans, Russians exercise some sound skepticism to its realization, and instead are beginning to take matters into their own hands, as in the case of Yekaterinburg - Russia’s fourth largest city.
“Make the bureaucrat work!” is the slogan of a local campaign [ru] run by the regional Internet news agency, Ura.ru. Their solution to the road problem is as simple as it is elegant: They simply spray-paint the portraits of local dignitaries around potholes, with quotes of their promises to fix the problem, and guess what – problem solved!
What has taken local politicians years not to do, is now done overnight. The embarrassment of having their portraits so concretely fixed to the potholes of their power, has seemingly made authorities run about like mad to pave over their portraits of impotence, filling the holes in streets and roads.
So, what kind of reactions have we seen in Russian social media?
Twitter user @ekalmurzaeva shouts out [ru]:
That’s how to make bureaucrats work! Portraits of bureaucrats helped repair the road.
LJ user salvatoreha underlines the efficiency of the campaign, but also points out [ru] that it was not a one-hit overnight victory:
Remember how artists painted city officials on the roads, with pits and holes filling their mouths. The action proved not only effectful, but also efficient. At first, municipal services either painted over the pictures or removed a layer of asphalt. At night, campaign initiators left additional graffiti “To paint over isn’t the same as fixing!” By morning, municipality workers had fully patched all holes.
Yekaterinburg LJ user Ivan Dmitriyev adds [ru] some local colour and humour to the affaire:
Dozens of news agencies highlighted this action. But the city administration reacted with humour to what had happened, and said that Governor Yevgeny Kuyvashev was to take an evening stroll through the city, and that he was curious to take a look at one of the caricatures. But some senior municipal official still decided not to traumatize the psyche of his boss. Already by next morning all the holes were patched up, asphalt laid, and the faces, with screaming mouth holes, were consequently painted over.
The result was achieved – done deal, no holes. What a blessing to one’s hometown. Apparently, when bureaucrats close their eyes to city problems, it is necessary to open them, because to their own “ranks”, as the Yekaterinburg example shows, they remain in awe.
What is not said is often more interesting than what is actually said. Critical voices to the “Make the bureaucrat work!” campaign are hard to find in social media. As noted by one blogger, even the attacked politicians appear to look positively on the action, making their bureaucracy get down to work.
As a matter of fact, the method seems so efficient that one wonders how long it will take before the campaign is taken to a countrywide scale, possibly by the lively Russian motorists’ movement. As Russia’s legislators and police clamp down on political rights, perhaps this campaign indicates the growth of alternative popular action, a spontaneously evolving civil society, aimed at solving actual problems in people’s everyday lives.