Anders Åslund gives a highly interesting insight into the culture of cronyism in Russia that comes short of a hereditary institution. Twenty-six years after the fall of the Soviet Union, Russia is seeing a new generation of financial elites - the "oligarchs-in-waiting." As sons of Putin's cronies, like Nikolai Shamalov, many of them are under 40. But they fill positions in the upper executive ranks of state-owned companies. Some, like Kirill Shamalov, Putin's son-in-law, are already billionaires. Their fathers, some of whom the first-generaton of oligarchs, benefit from being loyal to Putin, who lives by the motto: “To my friends, anything; for my enemies, the law.”

Many of Russia's richest men acquired their billions through dubious privatisations in the 1990s. A handful of them came to prominence as the Kremlin's financiers and entrepreneurs. Well connected, they were allowed to tear apart the bankrupt economy in the Soviet Union and pick remains of its enterprises. They devised a scheme through which every Russian citizen was given a bond, representing his share of the national wealth. The bonds had no value to millions of impoverished Russians. Streetwise businessmen bought them at knock-down prices and accumulated huge assets. The takeover of state companies was marred by price fixing, but the government under Boris Yeltsin saw it as a lesser evil given the burden subsidised industries posed on the state budget.

After Putin came to power in 2000, he was determined to break the hold oligarchs had on the Kremlin. Those - Mikhail Khodorkovsky, Boris Berezovsky, Vladimir Gusinsky and others - who fell out with him lost their fortune or influence, jailed or forced to flee Russia. Others were made to understand that they would be allowed to pursue their business interests if they kept out of politics.

Those who thrive most - Nikolai Shamalov; Boris and Arkady Rotenberg; Yuri Kovalchuk; Sergei Ivanov; Igor Sechin; Nikolay Patrushev; Aleksandr Bortnikov and the cellist, Sergey Roldugin etc. - knew Putin from his childhood or "golden youth" in St. Petersberg or his era as a KGB agent.

Many of these nouveau riche "have educated their sons in Russia, rather than sending them abroad." Their children have taken the place of the "previous generation of oligarchs /who/ have steadily left the country". In the face of the political climate at home, many opt to not return. Apart from massive capital flight, the country saw also a brain-drain.

Many billionaires - there are over 90 in Russia - have been able to keep their business empires. But their position isn’t without its perils in the era of Putin. Disloyalty to the Kremlin can have grave consequences. Dancing to its tune, they help fund projects like the 2014 Winter Olympic Games in Sochi, which cost $51 billion - the most expensive in history.

What makes this "intergenerational cronyism" so explosive is that scions of "such a tiny group of wealthy individuals" have access to top positions in state enterprises, leaving "a generation of young, able, and ambitious Russians" stranded in a labour market mired in nepotism. That their merits matter less than family connections fuel resentment. Anger and bitterness "will only continue to fester." This makes Russia's economy resemble Saudi Arabia's - a rentier state. But the new Saudi crown prince realises his country's problem and wants to diversify its economy, weaning itself off the dependence on oil revenues.

Since the fall of the Soviet Union, antipathy runs deep towards a handful of citizens who have acquired unimaginable wealth in so little time. Meanwhile, many Russians believe it pays off to be in Putin's good books: “I have a lot of friends,” he tells an interviewer, “but only a few people are really close to me. They have never gone away. They have never betrayed me, and I haven’t betrayed them either.”﻿