Progress on Russia’s abysmal roads stalls
Transportation funding ensnared by local corruption
VASILEVO, Russia - Truckers with empty tanks or bellies stop here in this hamlet between Moscow and St. Petersburg, climb to the ground, stretch their legs, and poke a cigarette between their lips.
The drivers are worn out from grinding over the potholed, shoulder-less, often two-lane ribbon that is, improbably, Russia’s main commercial thoroughfare. They haul the parts and pieces of a vast economy - chicken legs, coils of rope, dinner plates - over roads so jarring the cargo is often damaged before it arrives.
Nobody is more aware of the corroded state of Russia’s transport infrastructure than the country’s truckers, who earn their pay traversing broken highways and improvising where roads don’t exist.
“Thirty-one years I’ve been driving, and the roads have gotten worse,’’ said Valery Gorbunov, a beefy trucker with a mouth full of gold teeth and a truck full of pears. “The way they do repairs, they just put a patch on top of another patch.’’
Over the past decade, as Vladimir Putin presided over an oil-rich, newly assertive nation, outside observers marveled at Russia’s resurgence. But daily life inside the would-be superpower is still strained by mundane, fundamental failures.
As anybody who has tried to explore the country by car can testify, Russia’s abysmal road infrastructure is perhaps the most pointed reminder of all the things left undone during long years of economic boom.
Outside the major cities, the roads are harrowing - narrow and perilously pitted with potholes; groaning with cargo trucks; edges dropping off abruptly onto earth without a shoulder.
Even fresh pavement often ripples in waves, which are often coated with winter ice, sending tires skidding. And in many parts of Russia, the roads are unpaved.
Although spending on infrastructure has tripled over the past few years, drivers agree that the cash has failed to trickle down meaningfully to the roadways, partly because it became snared in local corruption.
And now, with the GDP shrinking and the International Monetary Fund predicting zero economic growth in 2010, there is a growing fear that Russia might have squandered its best chance to reinvent itself.
“This time was irretrievably wasted,’’ said Viktor Dosenko, vice president of the International Transport Academy in Moscow. “We missed these favorable conditions, and we can’t expect them to return.’’
Having dedicated his career to studying, planning, and lobbying for the construction of roads, Dosenko is a discouraged man.
Russia has about 400,000 miles of general-use road, he says, far short of the roughly 1 million miles most experts think the country needs. The government is planning to build up to 5,000 miles of road by 2015.
“It’s nothing,’’ Dosenko said with a sigh. “I’m ashamed to even mention these figures. And given the financial crisis, I believe that even these totally insufficient plans are in danger.’’
It’s true - the Russian government has been forced to shave its budget, reallocating money and dipping into the emergency funds set aside during times of plenty. Funding for transportation infrastructure already has been cut by nearly a third.
“It’s a huge restraint,’’ said Anton Geidt of GiprodorNII, Russia’s largest road- and bridge-planning company.
In recent years, as oil and natural gas prices swelled, many in the nation seemed to think that Russia would keep getting richer. Smart people in Moscow would talk about a tumble in the cost of oil and gas dismissively - about what effect it might have if it happened, which of course it wouldn’t, at least any time soon.
And so there was a sense, critics say, that there was no rush. The money was pouring in, and tomorrow would take care of itself. Roads stayed unpaved or nonexistent. The much-discussed modernization of the military was barely begun, let alone completed. Even infrastructure related to oil and gas was so badly neglected that Russia is now finding itself grappling with declining production.
But the inaction has come at a cost: Shoddy roads are robbing Russia of about 3 percent of its GDP a year, according to government estimates.