Throwing stones

AT THE Communist-era Cultural Palace in Ulaanbaatar, a mere stone's throw from the Government Palace he once occupied at different times as president and prime minister, Nambariin Enkhbayar held a political rally just days before a crucial parliamentary election and was greeted like a rock star. Many hundreds filled the auditorium, cheering as he roundly accused Mongolia's current leaders of stealing the last election, breaking campaign promises and tormenting him in recent months with a politically motivated prosecution for corruption.

Mr Enkhbayar himself is barred from standing for parliament in the election on June 28th. Yet he and his legal woes look central to Mongolia's political and economic future. The dramatic arrest of the former president on April 13th sparked fears of open warfare among the political elite and concerns among foreign investors about stability in a nation now poised to capitalise on its vast mineral wealth. The memory of the deadly violence that followed the previous parliamentary election, in 2008, hangs over this poll.

Mr Enkhbayar has told The Economist that he is a good Buddhist, a clean politician interested only in the welfare of the people, and the victim of a smear campaign. But outside his own circle—that is, among diplomats, local and foreign businessmen, other politicians and ordinary folk—the consensus is that his long political career has been tainted all along.

The wider issue for Mongolia is that all politicians, from all parties, are seen as no better. “They all have problems. They are all the same, even the small parties. Corruption is a disease, and it is endemic,” says a Mongolian business executive.

For President Tsakhiagiin Elbegdorj, of the minority Democratic Party (DP), this poses a dilemma. Allowing corruption to fester, he told The Economist, would only continue to corrode Mongolia's image and the business environment more broadly. Yet attacking corruption risks drawing even more attention to the problem, and calling into question the nation's political stability. Even so, he said, the fight cannot be put off.

The majority party in parliament is the Mongolian People's Party (MPP), the former Communists and the country's oldest political party. A senior figure, the minister of nature, environment and tourism, Tsogtbaatar Damdin, agrees with Mr Elbegdorj. Corruption, he says, must be cut so as not to endanger the country's development. Abusers of power must not feel that they are beyond the law. Any crackdown, he adds, must be “non-partisan and non-discriminatory”.

For his part, Mr Elbegdorj has had to deny charges that the case against Mr Enkhbayar is more to do with political rivalry than with corruption. The president insists he has no control over the prosecutor or the anti-corruption task force pursuing the case. But, like Mr Enkhbayar, the president has seen his remonstrations met with almost universal scepticism.

Whatever the motivation for the prosecution, Mr Elbegdorj and his DP seem poised to benefit from the kerfuffle. Mr Enkhbayar's Mongolian People's Revolutionary Party (MPRP) last year split from the MPP. Riding a wave of sympathy since his arrest, hunger strike and subsequent release on bail, the standing of Mr Enkhbayar's party has risen sharply. Polling suggests that it is likely to take between seven and ten seats in the 76-seat parliament. Since most of its support comes at the expense of the MPP, it may clear the way for a possible DP victory and thus a change of government.

If it does take charge, the DP will have other issues to grapple with. One will be facing down pressure to restructure the terms of by far the biggest foreign investment in the country, the Oyu Tolgoi copper and gold mine in the Gobi desert, to give the Mongolian state a larger share of the mine's revenues. Resource nationalism has been a pet cause of Mr Enkhbayar and others, but Mr Elbegdorj and his DP colleagues insist that walking away from previous agreements would be seen as another black mark against Mongolia's international reputation.

Batsukh Galsan, a former Mongolian diplomat who is now chairman of Oyu Tolgoi, believes that, heated campaign rhetoric notwithstanding, Mongolia's politicians know that the deal, as structured, is good for the nation. “I don't think the current election or its result will create any uncertainty over the project,” he says.

Other issues are purely local. At a DP campaign rally in the Khan Uul district in the southern part of the sprawling capital, much of the talk was about access to bank credit for small businesses and ways to implement a stalled land-privatisation scheme enacted long ago. Oyungerel Tsedevdamba, a DP candidate in Khan Uul, acknowledges the importance of getting a grip on corruption and improving Mongolia's image. But, she claims, local issues count for more. “Nobody here has asked me about Mr Enkhbayar,” she says.