It was an approach that grew out of his early understanding of Russian realpolitik. Having studied political science in Boston, Murray won a research fellowship at the Carnegie Institute for International Peace, a think tank based in the U.S. and Moscow, writing on U.S.-Soviet arms negotiations and arms policy. In 1982 he moved to Capitol Hill as a legislative assistant for national security policy to Senator Edward Kennedy, uniting American and Soviet scientists in a public forum at the height of the Cold War. "It was this attempt to find a common language over the threat of nuclear war that taught me the value of people-to-people diplomacy," he observes, an understanding that he would later bring to his business dealings in Russia.

After five years in Washington, Murray returned to school and took a joint master's degree in Law and International Affairs, focusing on Soviet issues and international security. He graduated in 1988, and came to Russia for the first time. "I was a bicyclist," he says somewhat nostalgically, on an adventure trip that took in Tallinn, the Golden Triangle, Moscow and a week in St. Petersburg. "It was a challenge at every bureaucratic level," he recalls, "but the most exciting way to see a new country."

Returning to New York as a lawyer with Baker & McKenzie, Murray made several trips to Russia over the following three years as he helped establish the law firm's Moscow practice.

But in 1991 Murray reached a turning point. In a business environment mixing Soviet-style decree from above and the chaotic notion that anything not expressly prohibited was permitted, Murray decided to go independent. "The moment had come to shift away from avoiding destruction towards more creative endeavors," he explains.

So while the big firms sought corporate transactional work, Murray founded Sovereign Ventures Inc. and from his first offices at 51 Sadovaya Ulitsa began providing management consultancy and rule of law development services in the new political and economic milieu.

He cut his teeth on his first project assisting the U.S. government in a humanitarian aid program selling surplus U.S. food to Russia and investing the proceeds in small businesses. From here, he began creating wholesale distribution systems for food and independent media products, as well as family entertainment and bowling centers - a private passion evidenced by the skittle now housed on his bookcase. He used consulting contracts under Russian law and is pleased never to have given a bribe, recalling light-heartedly his refusal to offer even a bottle of vodka to the Russian tax police when defending the tax-free basis of his first project.

What convinced Murray to set up business in Russia? "He loves fresh business ideas," says Christian Courbois, chairman of the executive committee of the St. Petersburg International Business Association, who got to know Murray through some friends in the early 1990s. "He loves the process of building - new projects, new goals. He seems to be the kind of guy that is attracted to the flame." John Schwarz, an early client who founded Baltic Cranberry Corp. with Murray's assistance, said of Murray that "like a lot of us, it was the challenge as seen ten years ago and the desire to participate in building the Russian economy. Matthew is dedicated to seeing business in Russia succeed."

For Murray, reform is a key requirement for corporate success in Russia. Between 1995 and 1997, Murray was chairman of SPIBA's public policy committee, working to promote Russian legal reform and greater transparency in dealing with the authorities. "Unfortunately most disputes are the result of direct or indirect government interference," he notes, and sought to build better and more open communication between the government the investment community. Thus he helped institute both the Governor's Council on Investment and the St. Petersburg Arbitration Court. He also created the St. Petersburg Tax Dialogue, a quarterly meeting with the tax authorities, culminating in a basketball tournament between SPIBA and the tax police. "They were much better than us," Murray recalls, apparently without irony. "It became known as the Governor's Cup," he says, pointing to a commemorative trophy that stands next to his skittle.

This emphasis on transparent communication is symptomatic of the way Murray operates in Russia. "We cut through the fog," he explains. "Sunshine is the best antiseptic."

He cites as an example the dispute over the Lomonosov porcelain factory, where he managed to reinstate dialog between a group of U.S investors and the "red directors" who were, he jokes, "re-fighting the Cold War." His role was that of mediator, "seeking a common language" and creating conditions for the parties to talk.

It was his awareness of the need for dependable business values that in October 2000 led Murray to help found the Center for Business Ethics, a non-government organization dedicated to helping Russian companies implement their own business ethics programs and ensure good corporate governance. Acting with individual businesses, the Center aims to "surface" values inherent within the Russian system and bring greater integrity and transparency to the marketplace. "Capitalism here is uniquely Russian," Murray explains. "Business must find and adopt its own core values."

According to Courbois, it is a belief in the "fair play environment" that informs Murray's approach to business in Russia. "I think he believes that the success in the U.S. can be replicated in Russia if just the rules of the game are followed," he suggests.

Murray himself maintains he is not on a moral crusade. His ambitions, he says, are simple: to see the Center thrive as a self-sustaining institution, "and to make a larger honest profit." And in the process, he hopes, help business in Russia to operate on a transparent and socially responsible basis.