By the end of 1988, taking advantage of new laws on co-ops, including financial co-ops (i.e., banks), Khodorkovsky, at the age of twenty-five, had his own bank called Menatep. The old saying that a man with a gun can rob a bank but a man with a bank can rob a country definitely applies to the Russia of those days. Menatep, like the other new banks that had sprung up in profusion, routinely violated government restrictions on hard currency. But as David Hoffman puts it in
The people holding positions of power in the slowly sinking Soviet state had a vital interest in maintaining good relations with the new class of young bankers. In the final years of the USSR fortunes in hard currency and gold belonging to the Communist Party simply vanished without trace. There is some suspicion that Khodorkovsky’s bank was involved in this diversion of wealth as part of a hand-washes-hand relationship. Khodorkovsky himself always vigorously denied any such relationship while at the same time maintaining: “A bank is like a waiter. Its business is to cater to its clients independently of their political beliefs or affiliation with this or that camp.”
The last thing anybody cared about in the Russia of the late 1980s was moral or legal niceties. The state, the sole owner of everything, had always been seen as a fair target to be ripped off—some lumber, bricks, electric cable, whatever you could get away with. Now, however, whole enterprises and institutions could be ripped off from the state. It was a matter of degree, not kind.
Though akin geologically, gas and oil are quite different economically and politically. Oil is much more valuable than gas and easier to transport—it can be shipped by tanker, train, or pipeline. Gas can be sent only by pipelines unless there are in place the complex and costly systems for liquefying it at one end and deliquefying it at the other. Russia had little capacity for that in the nineties. Though worth less than oil and more difficult to transport, gas would nevertheless prove a formidable instrument in the political arena, since Europe was hooked on Russian natural gas to heat homes and run industries.
Oil is the big moneymaker. In time it along with gas would account for some 50 percent of Russian federal government revenue. Balancing the budget was entirely dependent on the price of oil. It was a dangerous situation and everyone knew it, but in the chaos of the nineties you used what you had at hand, and getting through the month was more critical than planning for any future.
A second fundamental difference between gas and oil in Russia was that the Ministry of the Gas Industry had transformed itself into a corporation called Gazprom. Shares in Gazprom could be sold, but the state would remain the majority owner. The more complex oil industry quickly subdivided into ten or so separate entities, which meant that they, unlike Gazprom, could easily be privatized.
In 1995 the Russian government was hurting for money. Nobody was paying their taxes, especially those who had become suddenly and exorbitantly rich. The government’s principal source of revenue, oil, had sold for an average of $21.07 in 1994 and wasn’t doing much better in 1995 at $22.03. This all set the stage for what Marshall Goldman in his book