Yeltsin's Notorious Bridge Incident

September 28, 1989

By September 1989, Boris Nikolayevich Yeltsin had been a heroic figure for two years. The moment when he was launched into national popularity is not hard to pinpoint: as soon as he began being targeted as a critic of the regime, he was transformed from a run-of-the-mill party boss (recently transferred from the Siberian city of Sverdlovsk to head Moscow’s party organization) into a champion of the people persecuted for outspokenness.

On October 21, 1987, he delivered a speech to a Central Committee plenum condemning the slow pace of reform. The party bureaucracy immediately pounced on the provincial upstart, and in the months to come Yeltsin repeatedly repented his sins, and was even hospitalized for a heart attack, presumably from the stress. He was removed from his party post and, in January 1988, put in charge of the State Committee for Construction – a political backwater. In short, he had been demoted to the rank of “nobody.”

But by then Yeltsin was no longer capable of being a nobody. The October 1987 speech had transformed him into a mythic figure. The Yeltsin Center in Yekaterinburg (his hometown of Sverdlovsk, which reverted to its pre-revolutionary name in 1991) has on display 16 different versions of the speech that were published in samizdat at the time (the speech had been given to a closed plenum). It had been transcribed, retyped, and handed around, even to strangers on the street, which in 1987 was extremely daring. In all of these different versions, some of the text accurately reflects what Yeltsin actually said, but they all also put words in his mouth – people simply ascribed to him what, in their opinion, someone who had finally worked up the courage to defend perestroika would say. So began the triumphant rise of Boris Yeltsin.

Yeltsin went to work at the State Committee for Construction on foot or by trolley, which caused quite a sensation. The contrast with party bosses whizzing by in their bodyguard-protected black sedans was plain for all to see. During the summer of 1988, when Yeltsin, ignoring efforts by the party leadership to stop him, walked up to the podium at the Nineteenth Party Conference and asked to be returned to a leadership post, criticizing party bigwigs to boot, he was rebuked by his main enemy in the Politburo, the leader of party conservatives Yegor Ligachyov. Ligachyov’s words, “Boris, you’re wrong” were broadcast live across the country. Back then, there was no such concept as an “internet meme,” but if there had been, these words would have become one. Instead, they became a punch line heard on the street and TV. Glasnost was gaining momentum, and Yeltsin’s stature was growing.

When the very first USSR Congress of People’s Deputies was held during the early summer of 1989 – a signal moment in the advance of perestroika – Yeltsin was, of course, elected. Members of the Supreme Soviet – the Soviet Union’s highest legislative body, which was chaired at the time by Mikhail Gorbachev – were elected by members of the Congress. Yeltsin fell just short of getting the votes he needed. But then a member from Omsk, Alexei Kazannik, relinquished his seat, freeing it up for Yeltsin, who went on to become the leader of the liberalizing forces. Within a year, Yeltsin was chairman of the Supreme Soviet (by which time Gorbachev was president), and, within two, he became post-Soviet Russia’s first president. He was wildly popular and became more so with each passing day, despite having no shortage of enemies.

And it was during this tumultuous time, on September 28, 1989 – just a few months after his triumph at the Congress of People’s Deputies – that the police found a muddied and wet Yeltsin near a dacha community outside Moscow. He told them that he had been going to visit a friend living in the area, had dismissed his driver so he could walk a bit, and then had been attacked by strangers, who put a bag over his head and threw him off a bridge into the river. Yeltsin, who was always athletic, quickly freed himself and climbed ashore.

Boris Nikolayevich apparently pleaded that this incident not be reported, but of course the rumors started to fly. Some claimed that Yeltsin had been attacked by enemies of perestroika bent on killing him. There were even accusations against the extremely unpopular Raisa Gorbacheva, who was supposedly trying to get rid of a thorn in her husband’s side. Others accused Yeltsin of staging the whole thing to enhance his popularity and cast suspicions on his enemy, Ligachyov.

For some reason, over objections by the story’s protagonist, the Supreme Soviet conducted a long, drawn-out and clearly gleeful investigation. A hearing about the incident was broadcast live. Yeltsin looked downcast and humiliated, and he refused to disclose any details or offer an explanation for why he had been carrying two huge bouquets. These bouquets prompted rumors that he had been heading for an assignation and had been set upon by a jealous husband, which explained why he was so unwilling to answer the questions: What was he doing alone on that road? Why had he released his driver? What did he need bouquets for? (“Why two?” a joke immediately emerged: “For pluralism!”)

Most members of the Supreme Soviet seemed to buy into the assignation theory and openly mocked Yeltsin. Supreme Soviet member Ella Panfilova prompted hilarious laughter with her innocent question: “Boris Nikolayevich, so did they really throw you off the bridge after all or not?” (That is the same Ella Panfilova who now heads the Central Election Commission that is currently suppressing free elections to the Moscow City Duma. She has learned plenty over the ensuing decades.)

To the dismay of his enemies, this strange story left Yeltsin virtually unscathed. Those who believed that he had been attacked by enemies only intensified the fervor with which they rallied around their leader. And what if it was a jealous husband? That sort of story only enhances a politician’s reputation.

There was a rhyme making the rounds back then modeled after “This is the house that Jack built” that poked fun at the situation and political leaders with something to hide. (See below.) “The Boris once thrown from the bridge to the river” was clearly not its target.