A man in workman's clothes looking a bit like Charles Augustus Lindbergh without a shave walked out of Moscow's Kremlin one day last month, across vasty Red Square and stopped at a line of common folk waiting outside a State store. He asked the man at the end of the line, "What are you waiting to buy, Comrade?"
"Soap," said the Comrade.
The stranger joined the line. After an hour's shuffling forward, he was given a sticky handful of some noisome stuff. He asked the surly clerk for change, was told there was no...
To continue reading:
or
Log-In