13:11 – 03.10.12
By Shaun Walker
Beyond his zebra-rearing, art-collecting eccentricities, we don’t know
all that much about Bidzina Ivanishvili, whose Georgian Dream
coalition won a shock victory in Monday’s parliamentary elections
here. But after his victory news conference, we do know one thing for
sure: He’s no orator.
In a long meeting with the media in a sweaty room at Georgian Dream
headquarters on Tuesday, Oct. 2, Ivanishvili rambled, repeated
himself, appeared to make up policy on the spot, and accused a
reporter from a major international news agency of being a stooge for
his opponent, President Mikheil Saakashvili. He was also oblivious of
the fact that Georgian law requires Saakashvili, as president, to
approve the prime minister’s nomination, at least until the Georgian
Constitution changes next year. Initially, he argued forcefully with
journalists that this was incorrect, before later conceding the point.
It was an unnerving performance that might give people some cause to
wonder just who the man is who has benefited from the wave of popular
fury against Saakashvili’s reforming but authoritarian rule, and what
kind of government he might go on to lead.
Much of the vitriolic election campaign that took place here over the
past few months focused on the flaws or benefits of Saakashvili, the
hero of the 2003 Rose Revolution. His eccentric opponent was something
of a side attraction. Now that Ivanishvili’s coalition is going to
dominate Parliament, however, the spotlight falls on the oligarch, who
lived in complete hermitdom prior to his entry into politics.
Until last year, few people even knew what he looked like. He had
given just one interview, to the Russian newspaper Vedomosti, back in
2005, and he shunned all publicity and public events. He moved as
stealthily as a cat whenever he left the safety of his contemporary
castle of glass on a hill overlooking Tbilisi, disbursing his
philanthropic donations to Georgian artists and intellectuals quietly
and anonymously.
After he announced in October 2011 that he was the man to challenge
Saakashvili, he had to make a quick adjustment to the world of media
appearances and interviews. A gift to the profile writer, Ivanishvili
often seems like he has wandered straight off the pages of a Gary
Shteyngart novel. His political rallies have featured performances by
his albino son, who is arapper. When I interviewed him two months ago,
at his Black Sea estate, he arrived driving a red golf buggy, playing
“My Way” on the stereo and offering an impromptu tour of his
exotic-pet collection before we sat down to chat. There were
flamingos, parrots, peacocks, and two zebras. Another reporter who
visited one of his other residences discovered a kangaroo and several
penguins
“The main problem is that he does not know what love is,” Ivanishvili
told me when I asked him what he disliked about Saakashvili. In an
interview with the Russian edition of GQ, he elaborated: “I love
people, unlike Saakashvili, and they feel it,” he said. “Saakashvili
loves only sex and food.”
In the time we spent talking, he came across as a surprisingly
affable, if rather bizarre character. He was comfortable talking about
how Zelda, his zebra mare, is pregnant, or how there are eight breeds
of peacock (he has them all). He was even comfortable talking about
his rise from a Georgian villager to a Russian billionaire and how he
negotiated the dangers of the 1990s Moscow business climate. He was
less cogent, however, on specific policies, concentrating instead on
ad hominem attacks on his opponent. (Saakashvili’s people, for their
part, returned the compliment, describing him as a “weirdo” and a
Kremlin stooge.) He also appeared confused by the transition from
dealing with business subordinates to dealing with inquisitive
journalists. At the end of our interview he waved a hand and said,
“You know which bits to use and which bits not to use, right? I’m sure
you understand what you should write and what you shouldn’t.”