IS YELTSIN REALLY IN CHARGE?

By Kevin Fedarko

Rumors, confusion and anxiety gripped Moscow so intensely last week that his Kremlin handlers just had to produce a live Boris Yeltsin. The President of Russia had not been seen publicly since his alarmingly inarticulate inaugural oath of office on Aug. 9, while all manner of confounding events were convulsing the country. See, presidential aides needed to demonstrate, he's still the boss. But Yeltsin's surprise photo op last Thursday evening provided precious little reassurance. He didn't look as frail and puffy or sound as slurred as he had in the inauguration, yet his appearance lasted only a few minutes, his speech remained stilted and his posture frozen.

For most people, this would not amount to a show of vitality. For Yeltsin it served as a reminder of his remarkable ability to bounce back from near-death experiences--both physical and political. The photo session put to rest questions about his whereabouts, although the true condition of the President's precarious health remains a state secret. And it warned rivals not to count him out, even as it deepened confusion about his long-term ability to rule Russia.

If nature abhors a vacuum, so too does the Kremlin. Yeltsin's latest disappearance overlapped the humiliating attack by Chechen separatists that gave them back control of their capital, Grozny. The President's absence allowed his fractious advisers to play out their own power struggle with the lives of thousands of Chechen civilians and Russian soldiers. Conflicting views within the Russian government about how to respond produced astounding zigzags in policy. Even as the Chechen war seemed to subside at week's end with dramatic news of a truce and maybe even a peace agreement, there was a sense that the other war, the Kremlin war, was just beginning.

Only two weeks ago, Yeltsin handed responsibility for resolving Chechnya to his ambitious national security chief, Alexander Lebed, who swiftly launched peace talks. Ignoring that, Russia's acting military commander late last Monday gave citizens in Grozny 48 hours to flee before the Russians initiated "large-scale combat operations." As he issued his ultimatum, Lieut. General Konstantin Pulikovsky voiced his firm opinion that the Chechens could be quelled only by "the use of force."

On the very same day, however, the Kremlin had issued a presidential order bidding Lebed "to restore law and order in Grozny the way it existed" before the rebel advance. Yeltsin's intentions were opaque. Was the President giving a green light for the offensive? Or did he want Lebed's peace talks to proceed? Was he purposely pitting officials against each other, or did he know nothing of what was going on?

On Tuesday, Lebed did what he always does when confronted by uncertainty. He attacked. The Security Council, which he heads, expressed doubt that Yeltsin had either written or personally signed such a harsh new order: the name on the document was just a stamped facsimile. The President, who was reported to have left for a two-day "vacation inspection trip" at a lakefront spa, maintained silence.

Lebed was then dealt a severe setback when, on Wednesday, Pulikovsky jumped the gun and began pounding the Chechen capital with heavy artillery, bombs and rockets, at least 12 hours before his deadline. Thousands of panicked civilians trying to flee were caught in the cross fire. As the bombardment intensified, Lebed sped to Grozny to renew talks with Aslan Maskhadov, the Chechen military commander, calling the Russian offensive "a bad joke." He quickly "guaranteed" there would be "no storming of Grozny" and he would "see to it" that the Russian generals obeyed.

Lebed prevailed by force of will. After eight hours of strenuous talks with the rebel leaders, interrupted by frantic calls to the Chechen and Russian camps to quell sporadic fighting, he announced a breakthrough that he claimed would "terminate this bloody bacchanalia." A cease-fire would commence at noon on Friday, Russian troops would begin departing Grozny, and joint patrols would police the shattered city. In another couple of days, he promised to produce a permanent political solution to Chechnya's bid for independence. Never mind that similar plans have come and gone in the 20-month war. Claiming credit for the deal, Lebed offered perhaps the most succinct analysis of last week's real struggle. "No one has given anyone any powers," he said. "You simply have to take them. As I am quietly doing."

That seems to be exactly what everyone is afraid of. On Thursday when the President emerged from seclusion, he complained that he was "not completely satisfied with Lebed's performance." During the recent election campaign, said a testy Yeltsin, Lebed "said if he had power, he could solve Chechnya. Well, now he has the power, and unfortunately, I still can't see any results." By then Lebed's agreement was already in the works. Was the President unaware of events, or simply determined to cut his rival down a peg? Or was Yeltsin just trying to avoid being the answer to the almost inevitable question: Who lost Chechnya?

As the Chechen fighting ebbed, the Kremlin war continued. On Friday, Lebed announced he would meet with his boss to settle things. Yeltsin initially declined to see his envoy or endorse his blueprint for peace. But later, he reportedly told Lebed by telephone that he generally approved of his initial efforts to end the war and authorized him to hold talks with Chechen rebel leaders on a political accord that would keep Chechnya within the Russian Federation. Lebed headed back to Chechnya over the weekend to work out such a settlement.

Many among the Russian press and public have embraced the retired general's lone efforts to reach peace against the machinations of an evil clique of warmongers, making him the most visible and so far successful challenger for Kremlin ascendancy. But he is not the only aspirant. Anatoli Chubais, the economic reformer who is the President's chief of staff, has stayed out of the Chechen mess while he cements his own powers as "regent" over all presidential decrees and appointments. Prime Minister Viktor Chernomyrdin, who has the constitutional right to succeed Yeltsin in the event of his incapacity or death, seems to have formed a powerful alliance with Chubais.

The key to Yeltsin's power has always been his ability to fan the tensions dividing his ministers. This strategy ensured that each man was undercut by his rivals, and enabled Yeltsin to act as the power-broking referee at the center. While his minions clawed at one another, Yeltsin had only to keep egging them on and maintain a watchful eye, which is why his health is such a closely guarded secret.

The question now is whether Yeltsin has the physical and mental stamina to keep that high-risk approach going. "Yeltsin is always capable of something unexpected," says Anatoli Sobchak, the former mayor of St. Petersburg. "He seems to have lost all his strength and then he recuperates." But each recuperation appears to exact a heavier toll, and bouts of hyperactivity are followed by longer and longer periods of inaction and illness. That is no long-term prescription for keeping control of a country as unruly as Russia today.

--Reported by Dean Fischer/Washington and Yuri Zarakhovich/Moscow

With reporting by DEAN FISCHER/WASHINGTON AND YURI ZARAKHOVICH/MOSCOW