From the review for “Walking on Ice. An American Businessman in Russia” from Russia Profile magazine, by its editor, Andrei Zolotov, Jr.  

Of the legion of Western entrepreneurs who came to Russia in the early 1990s in search of opportunities, many came here guided not just by greed, but by a quest for adventure. But there were few who had become infatuated with Russian culture built their businesses as a cultural matchmaking of sorts. They had the inquisitive minds and open hearts of cultural interpreters, which helped push their projects in the land, where, as one such person, Frederick R. Andresen put it, “everything is difficult—and everything is possible.”

Andresen put his insightful observations into a tenderly written, concise book, which is neither an academic study, nor a memoir; neither a business manual, nor a cultural history. Yet it somehow manages to serve all these purposes and can be recommended as an easy and highly educational read for aspiring Russia scholars and people preparing for a tour of duty in Russia.

One part of the book is structured in chapters on Russian geography, demography, culture, business and politics, while the other is simply called “An Essay Collection.” These pages bear an openly Chekhovian description of a weekend spent at the dacha with an extended Russian family next to a carefully worded account of the role of crime and corruption in business practices and how they can be worked around; a tribute to Boris Pasternak next to a report about the October 1993 revolt and the shelling of parliament from an unusual perspective of a businessman whose operation was headquartered in the Comecon building at the very center of those dramatic events.

The author analyzes the role of the Orthodox Church in shaping the Russian psyche and identity, and categorizes Russian women in types which would make some of them blush. What brings these essays together is a transpiring love for both the strengths and weaknesses of this country and its people.

Andresen was clearly intrigued by the “Russian soul” and made an unpretentious and humorous contribution to unwrapping the “mystery inside the enigma.” It rings true even to a skeptical Russian reader instinctively ready to catch factual or contextual flaws in a “naïve foreigner’s” reflection on his country.

One of the book’s high points is the account of how the author applied Dostoyevsky’s “The Grand Inquisitor” chapter to business management. Three things are generic to the traditional Russian character, Andresen wrote, referring to Dostoyevsky: “the idea that good, if any, will come from some unexpected outside source (miracle); that man is not ordained to be responsible for his own welfare and progress (mystery); and that guidance and protection come only from constant dependence on and obedience to someone else (authority). There is a reversion to this in today’s Russian government. That situation is pressing to be changed by the young, but it seems always there under the surface.”

For business people without a background in Russian studies embarking on a Russia-related project, Andresen gives a short reading list: “The Icon and the Ax” by James Billington, “The Brothers Karamazov” by Fyodor Dostoyevsky and “The Castle” by Franz Kafka. “Walking on Ice” would certainly complement the list—it can be consumed in one trans-Atlantic flight.

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I think Oscar Wilde was wrong—but it will take time to know. The efforts to transform Russia into a viable and democratic economy, one that fits comfortably with the rest of the free world, will at best jerk forward over the coming years. But it is happening. Three steps forward and two backward. Still, one residual step in the right direction is something to be grateful for in a land of such immense potential. That is an improvement over Lenin’s assessment of Russian progress, “One step forward and one back.”

History has not been kind to the Russians. Seventy years of cruel rigidity under Communism within the context of a thousand years of autocratic rule has fostered a blind dependence on central authority, as de Tocqueville says “of servitude,” a resulting lack of personal responsibility and self confidence, and a fatalistic distrust of the future.

 Historically, and largely because of their geography, Russians missed out entirely on the pivotal events of Western development. A thread running through their complex political history is the fear of and acceptance of an all-powerful and sometimes arbitrary central authority, the influence of constricting medieval orthodoxy, and the mystical unifying force called the “Russian soul.”

Russians have historically been torn between two conflicting desires: wanting to be in ways like the West, and rejecting the West as intrusive on their exclusive identity. Their solution has been to play the role of being a bridge between East and West. If the truth be known, they just want to be themselves, whatever that is. A fair reading of Russian history around the turn of the 20^th century reveals not only an eruption of social discontent, but also the seeds of political progress. Many speculate that the natural extension of this political maturing would have evolved into a constitutional monarchy and finally into some sort of progressive economic system that would have allowed Russia to maintain a respectable place in the family of nations. That didn’t happen.

How Russia goes forward depends on the Russians. Patience and understanding on the part of the West are critical. But, we Westerners are an impatient people. A realistic partnership of Russia with its western counterparts is vital. The obvious goal is for Russia to take its vast land area with its diverse peoples and its great natural resources, and turn itself from a centrally controlled economy into a prosperous free market that utilizes the great potential of its educated and resolute people. Their job is to demonstrate the fallacy of Lenin’s statement, still cemented in the minds of some, “When there is a state, there can be no freedom, but when there is freedom there will be no state.”

Alexis de Tocqueville said, “The American struggles against the natural obstacles which oppose him; the adversaries of the Russian are men.” Hopefully, time and experience will change these “men.” When the formation of and support of democratic civil society finally overshadows the personal interests of a few men, then a stable and predictable nation will evolve. Russia is on its way to becoming a “civilized nation” as they so often express as their goal. Contrary to the Russian habit, this development cannot be legislated or dictated from the top. It must come from the bottom and move up. Of course, Russian leadership has never accepted or trusted this. “Oh, never, never can they feed themselves without us,” said The Grand Inquisitor in “Brothers Karamazov.” This evolution will take time, maybe a generation or two—or three.

In Russia, hope dies last. Only the Russians can do it. It is quite possible that Russia will even have a working political, economic, and social structure similar to that of the West, but who is to tell? And does it have to be identical to ours to bring progress and happiness? Oscar Wilde said, “Nothing is impossible in Russia but reform.” I think Mr. Wilde was wrong―in the long run.

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