'They didn't show Swan Lake, so it can't have been a coup'

Helen Womack, in Moscow, tries to keep abreast of events as they unfold through the day

10.30AM. I was preparing to go and make my tax declaration when the telephone rang. It was my friend Vitaly. "Have you heard? Yeltsin has sacked the entire government and is taking over himself." "But he's been ill." "I think this might be a coup." I cancelled the appointment with the taxman.

A putsch, yes, it was certainly possible. The night before, General Alexander Lebed had been shown on independent television commenting during a visit to the United States that President Boris Yeltsin was "inadequate". But when I switched on the television, I was relieved to see a morning game show, not the ballet Swan Lake, which suddenly appeared on every channel when hardliners attempted to overthrow Mikhail Gorbachev in August 1991. At 11.30, up came an unscheduled news bulletin. If they were still informing the public, matters could not be too serious.

The bulletin raised more questions than it answered. On the one hand Mr Yeltsin had removed Prime Minister Viktor Chernomyrdin, on the other he had given him a medal "for services to the Motherland, second degree." Two ministers seemed to be more sacked than the others; first deputy prime minister, Anatoly Chubais, and interior minister, Anatoly Kulikov, were definitely out while there was a suggestion that other ministers might continue in post until a new cabinet was formed.

"It's typically Russian," said Vitaly. "This is going to turn into a farce."

Brokers were not amused when the stock exchange plunged by 10 per cent. Shocked Western journalists and Russians alike began speculating what it all meant. The sacking of Mr Chubais was understandable. By removing the economic reformer accused of receiving an excessive book advance while failing to pay ordinary people their overdue wages and pensions, President Yeltsin was taking the sting out of a nationwide protest planned for 9 April.

The sacking of General Kulikov made less sense. True, he was one of the hardliners who gave President Yeltsin bad advice about pressing on with the war in Chechnya. But it seemed he had weathered that storm. Lately he had been responsible for cracking down on economic crime. On the other hand, if Mr Yeltsin wanted a scapegoat for public discontent over Mafia violence, he would do nicely.

At noon, the President appeared on television to ask for the "understanding and support of the Russian people". Although the country had made some economic progress, many social problems remained. A fresh team was needed. Yet he had nothing but warm words for Mr Chernomyrdin, whose "human decency" would be needed in 2000 when the presidential elections were due. He had asked Mr Chernomyrdin "to concentrate on political preparations for those elections". Did this mean Mr Yeltsin, 67, was giving Mr Chernomyrdin, 59, his blessing to run for president? Or was it that the latter was being told to organise another election campaign for Mr Yeltsin who has been hinting lately that he might bend the constitution and try to run for a third term?

In the only actual appointment of the day, Sergei Kiriyenko, was made first deputy prime minister and asked to act as prime minister. Under the constitution, if the president dies the prime minister automatically takes over. If anything were to happen to Mr Yeltsin in the next few days, Russia would be in the hands of Mr Kiriyenko, a completely inexperienced politician who is under 40.