He wasn't just brave - he was smart. And soon the Kremlin recognized it, appointing him, at age 40, the youngest deputy oil minister in Soviet history. The timing couldn't have been better. It was 1989, and Mikhail Gorbachev was opening the door to Western investment. Oilmen from around the world flocked to Moscow, hoping for their share of the prize. (The country's proven reserves are estimated at 80 billion barrels today, according to BP, and Russia is thought to have triple that still to be discovered - another Saudi Arabia.)
While the international petro-giants were circling the imploding Soviet Union, its top bureaucrats were looking ahead to its demise. Alekperov flew around the world, taking notes from the top executives at companies like BP and ENI (E), the Italian giant. He came to believe the only way Russians could compete against Western companies was to copy their business model. That meant vertically integrating the three branches of the industry - exploration, refining, and distribution - that were strictly separate under the old Soviet system. (Alekperov's official biography is aptly titled Vertical.)
The Kremlin's Council of Ministers formed Lukoil in November 1991, just weeks before the USSR collapsed. The company combined three of the largest fields of the Soviet industry - Langepas, Urai, and Kogalym - as well as several refineries. (Its name derives from the first letter of each field.) Alekperov, stepping down from his evaporating job as acting Soviet oil minister, became its president.
At first Lukoil remained the property of the state. But in 1993 it was "privatized," and ownership vouchers were distributed to Lukoil employees, among others. It wasn't until 2002, when the company began trading on the London Stock Exchange, that Alekperov disclosed he owned a 10% stake. (No one is really sure how he accumulated it.) Today he holds 20%.
Almost two decades later, Alekperov, who was said last year to be worth more than $10 billion, is one of the few oligarchs still in business. How did he stay in control of Lukoil when other ambitious Russian CEOs found themselves in jail? One clue is his office. It's large, but sparsely furnished with understated red and white leather chairs. (Red and white are the official corporate colors.) Behind his glass desk is the double-headed eagle, which is Russia's coat of arms, and photos of Medvedev and Putin. Replace the eagle with a hammer and sickle and substitute a photograph of Nikita Khrushchev, and you could be back in the USSR. "We are first and foremost a Russian company," he says. "I am very thankful to both the president and the prime minister. They provide great support to our business."