Russians Find Move to Moscow a No-No

MOSCOW — Artist Boris Prudnikov was living in a tiny southern village in 1991 when he decided he had to move to Moscow, the country’s mecca for art--as well as business, politics and just about every other field.

The Soviet Union had just collapsed, and laws restricting people’s movements were easing, so he figured he could chance moving to the big city.

But Moscow’s strict registration rules remained in effect, making him an illegal resident and forcing him to pay frequent bribes to avoid arrest and possibly deportation back home.

“Registration is a violation of all my human rights,” says Prudnikov, who finally managed to register in 1997. “If you look suspicious, the police will stop you. And if you’re not registered, finding a job is virtually impossible.”

In a country racked by a decade of economic depression, Moscow is the one place where Russians from the provinces can hope to break a cycle of dead-end jobs, unpaid salaries and shortages of basic goods. It is a magnet for people from every corner of the former Soviet Union, but moving here remains an extremely tricky business.

Under the city’s powerful mayor, Yuri Luzhkov, Moscow still enforces registration rules that violate the spirit, if not the letter, of Russia’s constitution, which gives citizens the right to travel freely and live where they choose.

Police actively try to stem the flow of fortune-seekers and demand bribes from those without proper documents. They are particularly vigilant when encountering people from the Caucasus region of southern Russia, whose darker complexions make them easily identifiable.

Police Ignore Law, Demand Bribes

Estimates on the number of unregistered people living in Moscow range from 300,000 to 1.5 million--no one knows. Most are Russian citizens who should be entitled to live in the capital, along with the 8.7 million registered residents.

“The whole system exists to keep basically anyone out of the city, anyone who isn’t wanted,” says Diederik Lohman, director of the Moscow branch of Human Rights Watch. “There’s a group of privileged people who can come to Moscow and live here fairly easily. For all the rest it’s very difficult.”

Prudnikov, the artist, says it cost him $9,000 to get registered--$5,000 to a landlord who agreed to formally rent him an apartment and $4,000 in bribes to police and bureaucrats.

During the Soviet era, a strict internal passport system tied people to their hometowns and made moving to another city very hard.

The Constitutional Court ruled in 1996 that Moscow’s registration rules were illegal, but the revised law still discourages legal migration to the capital.

Today, registration requires proof of residence, permission from the owner of the living space and an 8-ruble (30-cent) fee.

But Russians trying to move to Moscow say the process isn’t that easy. They say police ignore the law, demand bribes and often refuse registration based on ethnicity.

“In principle, the problem should be solved,” says Tatyana Dolbena, a migration lawyer in Moscow. “But in reality, Russians and citizens of the former Soviet Union are often refused registration arbitrarily.”

Police insist the registration system is needed to keep Moscow from being overwhelmed. It already has twice as many people as any other Russian city.

Police also say they need to keep track of migrants, who, according to the Interior Ministry, committed about one-third of all crimes in the capital in 1998.

“It’s no secret that [so many] crimes committed in Moscow are committed by migratory people,” says Alexander Barabanchikov, deputy head of Moscow’s passport control. “Therefore, registration is essential.”

Many Russians who are fed up with the high crime rate agree, but critics say the system is outdated and discriminates against citizens who are not ethnic Russians.

Police still arbitrarily check internal passports, which Russian citizens are supposed to carry at all times. They frequently stop people based on ethnic appearance, believing minorities are less likely to be registered.

Prudnikov says that before he registered, he was periodically taken to a police station and had to pay bribes to ensure he wasn’t sent back to his village of Taganurk in southern Russia.

He finally decided to go through the registration process when police, acting on a tip, confronted him at his apartment.

Even now, police often stop him several times a day for document checks, presumably because of his dark skin.

For those who can’t afford the price of even temporary registration--some firms charge $100--living in Moscow can be a game of paying bribes, telling lies and keeping a low profile.

Yevgeny Petrenko, a native of the remote northeastern region of Chukotka, has been in Moscow for more than a year. He hasn’t gotten a job, isn’t registered and lives with his girlfriend.

He’s afraid to register because he worries authorities will discover he hasn’t performed his obligatory military service.

But Petrenko insists he’ll never return to the economically strapped Far East. Instead, he pays the occasional bribe and takes precautions such as attempting a Moscow accent and not carrying his passport so he can lie to police if stopped.

“There’s no possibility of going home,” he says. “Back there, it’s death.”