by Genine Babakian
Sitting behind the desk of his modest office in a t-shirt and jeans, 53 year old Valery Simonjan does not exactly fit the image of the slick new breed of Soviet businessman. But the younger, ostentatious crowd of entrepreneurs could learn a thing or two from the way this editor-in-chief conducts business.
In a country of "can dos" and broken promises, Simonjan is a man who can get things done. As many foreign business people in Moscow can attest - whether you need to arrange a photo shoot in Red Square or a countrywide marketing campaign - Simonjan is the man to trust.
After becoming editor-in-chief of AVTO, a national automotive weekly, Simonjan's first move was to take the newspaper off of government funding and reregister it as independent - a process that required a few years of maneuvering. Since becoming fully independent in 1990, Simonjan boosted the paper's circulation from 10,000 to 120,000, and expanded operations to introduce book publishing, Russia's only newspaper for veterinarians, and an agency to provide commercial and industrial information for potential investors.
"Sometimes I look back on what we've accomplished in the past few years and it feels like a decade," Simonjan says, who typically works a seven-day week, often staying at the office until midnight.
To see Simonjan juggle several tasks at once, you would think he had been doing this all his life; but, in fact, he is a relative newcomer to the world of business. Born in Soviet Armenia, Simonjan came to Moscow State University to study philosophy, but was quickly disillusioned by a style of teaching that punished students for being inquisitive. Having been raised in the Caucasus where, he claims, children were freer to express themselves, he escaped the conformity so valued under Communist rule, and frequently incurred the wrath of his professors by asking questions. He had given up philosophy and was working as a plumber when a friend persuaded him to join the staff of AVTO in the late 1960s.
Thus Valery Simonjan worked as a correspondent for twenty years, avoiding additional responsibility. But when he was offered the top editorial position in 1987 - after Gorbachev's period of glasnost had already begun - he became a businessman overnight.
In addition to his usual responsibilities at AVTO, Simonjan has the proverbial finger in every pot, taking on any new task as long as he sees a need for it. When General Motors, for example, opened its first dealership in Moscow, Simonjan arranged the press conference. And when Citroën wanted to broaden its image in Russia, Simonjan came up with a 12-month marketing campaign through twelve different cities. He even became a lobbyist of sort when the Russian Parliament planned to enact a law that would adversely effect veterinarians. Simonjan worked quickly to publish the results of an emergency round table discussion among veterinary experts, and had the materials distributed to Parliament members on the day before the law was to be approved. It was, thanks to Simonjan's efforts, never passed.
At the same time, Simonjan doesn't forget his own. Last winter, when food supplies became more scarce in the stores, Simonjan took charge by revamping the adjoining cafeteria to provide decent, affordable fare for his employees; he then set up stalls for them to buy essentials such as meat and dairy products and avoid the long lines. The cafeteria also feeds up to thirty elderly pensioners every day, a goodwill program launched by AVTO with additional funding from two other local businesses.
Yet for all he has accomplished, Simonjan maintains a low profile - a measure motivated by modesty as well as discretion. "In this country you don't need to speak too loud. If you start to make noise, it is sure to end badly."
