State Secrets: An Insider's Chronicle of the Russian Chemical Weapons Program

CHAPTER 20 Revenge of the Communists

It was time for me to look through my case materials. According to the Procedural Code, I had to become familiarized with my case and to confirm this before it was brought to court. Day after day I was planning to copy down everything that could be used to expose the methods of the Chekists. Enough material had accumulated in my case, that I could understand the plans of the leaders of the military-chemical complex for carrying out their implementation of the Chemical Weapons Convention.

I believed that the day would come when I would be able to present all this to the general public. Of course, I wasn’t at all certain that the court wouldn’t send me to jail for many years to come. However, that was already not so important to me, since I got the chance to publish the secrets of the military-chemical complex and the KGB. That is why I concentrated fully on the mind-numbing activity of copying these lengthy transcripts and materials stamped “Secret” and “Top Secret”, right under the nose of Investigator Shkarin. He was powerless to do anything about it, and could only resign himself to tolerating my impertinence. Still, I wasn’t quite certain that the KGB could forgive my conduct. Even so, I had made up my mind and this meant that I would carry on to the end, and put my decision into action.

Every day, after the long and tiresome job of copying my case materials at the Lefortovo Investigation Department, I went home to my apartment in the “Ivanovskoe” residential housing complex. That summer my family was in the village Baranovskoe near Moscow. Until late at night, I typed up what I had copied during the day. I was completely alone and open to anyone who might have wanted to get rid of me. However, strange as it may seem, I was not afraid at all, and I calmly accepted whatever was to come. Just in case though, I tried to hide the typed texts and, whenever possible I sent them by the fax of the Moscow Greenpeace organization to Gale Colby in Princeton, New Jersey.

By that time the situation in Russia had become very tense. A struggle was in full swing between the supporters of Democracy and the Communists, whose puppets at that time were the Chairman of the Supreme Soviet, Ruslan Khasbulatov, and Vice President Aleksandr Rutskoi. The latter was a former pilot who had served in Afghanistan and received the title of “hero” after he was shot down and taken prisoner three times. Rutskoi was exchanged each time for weapons, which the Mujahedeen then used to kill our soldiers. Even at the very beginning of his political career, when he nominated himself as a candidate for the U.S.S.R. Congress of People’s Deputies, this “hero” demonstrated his undisguised contempt for people. Once when it was his turn to speak at a meeting near one of the Moscow cinemas, he remarked to his assistants, “Now I will say a few words to this herd of animals!” Rutskoi didn’t notice that the microphone was switched on, and all the people around heard very well how this adventurer appraised them. As a result, the “fighter” for people’s happiness was an ignominious failure in the elections. Unfortunately, people in his hometown, where his mother was running a brisk beer trade, later came to believe that the “soldier from Afghanistan” had become a reformer, and they elected him deputy, to their own detriment.

When he became Vice President of Russia after the elections in 1991, Rutskoi managed to cheat not only his friends the Communist deputies, but even Boris Yeltsin. By spring of 1992, the Communists decided that the right moment had come, and they doggedly started attacking the supporters of democracy and market reforms in Russia. When I heard incoherent, hysterical statements from the mustachioed pilot attacking reforms, I couldn’t get rid of the thought that the “Evil One” had appeared in Russia.

Every day they showed a different demagogue on TV, the specialist in Marxism, Ruslan Khasbulatov. His unnaturally glittering eyes gave away his addiction to drugs, and I felt disgust and great alarm when I watched him. I saw that no moral barriers existed for this person. Looking straight into the television camera, he could assure people that he was more Russian than any of them. The only little problem was that he was a Chechen, according to his passport. He was fishing for compliments which non-Russian citizens would find insulting: “You don’t say so, Ruslan Ivanovich! You don’t look like a member of a national minority at all.” Unfortunately, all the Bolsheviks, like the Fascists, are the same – they are “international.” I felt almost sick listening to the speeches of the frenzied Communists. I clearly saw that they were preparing for a new civil war.

At that time, I felt uncomfortable distracting people by asking them to solve my problems. Inadvertently my case played out against the supporters of Boris Yeltsin, because a lot of people saw not the plots of the KGB in it, but an error in reckoning of the modern reformers. To be honest, if I hadn’t prudently linked my fate to the ruling elite of that time, the idea of the Communists coming to power would have been even worse for me. While Yeltsin was at the helm, a hope still flickered under the pressure from the international community, especially from the democratic countries, that the authorities in Russia could listen to common sense and concede. However, if the Bolsheviks returned, it would undoubtedly mean many years in jail for me. I did my best trying to help the democratic forces hold up in this brutal struggle, emphasizing in my numerous interviews and articles published in Moscow, Bashkortstan, and Tatarstan, that the development of democracy in our country was a necessary condition for the fight against chemical weapons.

In the spring of 1993, a referendum was scheduled to take place on the people’s confidence in the policy of democratic and economic reforms in the country. At that time a broad range of ecological organizations in Udmurtiya, Chuvashiya, and the Saratov region were actively protesting the planned barbaric destruction of chemical weapons stockpiles in their regions. The local populations were very anxious about this prospect and felt that it meant that the authorities were unwilling to consider the interests of ordinary people.

The policy of the Presidential Conventional Committee for Problems of Biological and Chemical Weapons was provocative and played into the hands of the Communists. Under these circumstances, it was extraordinarily convenient from everyone’s point of view to fire General Anatoly Kuntsevich, the odious chairman of that committee, in disgrace. Then the people from the affected regions could decide to vote for the policy of President Yeltsin, because they would see this gesture as a portent for the safe destruction of the chemical weapons stockpiles. I expressed this idea to the democratic leaders in the RF Supreme Soviet, Sergei Yushenkov and Valery Menshikov. Unfortunately, they couldn’t or didn’t want to take resolute action.

The same fate befell my initiative to revive the Sunday Tatar concerts in Kazan which were broadcast on short wave radio. Numerous radio stations for jamming the foreign “voices,” had become useless in the onslaught of the era of Glasnost. In 1989 the U.S.S.R. government decided to put them to better use for developing cultural links between nations. Regular broadcasts of Tatar music started on the weekends, and the Tatar Diaspora living in Moscow finally got a chance to know their own music better. It was at a time when the U.S.S.R. leaders were interested in negotiating a signed agreement with Tatarstan, which had justly demanded the same rights for itself that the so-called union republics enjoyed.

When the U.S.S.R. collapsed and Russia was transformed into a sovereign state, it seemed that the process for granting Tatarstan the right to make independent decisions and to have a real government was evolving more rapidly. I have already written about what happened later, when Tatarstan decided to conduct a referendum on the issue of sovereignty. Then democrats of every shade, Communists, and nationalist-chauvinists united against this “impudence” of the Tatars. There were no limits to the defamation of my people in the press, on radio, and on TV.

In April of 1993, after lengthy reflection, I called the secretary of Mikhail Poltoranin, who headed the Committee for Radio and Television at that time. I briefly explained the objective of my proposed visit and asked him to spare me 10 minutes to lay out my plans. I wanted famous Tatars – democratically-minded scientists, public figures, and writers to speak on the radio and on TV and call for voting in favor of Boris Yeltsin’s policy at the coming referendum. A gesture of good will was necessary in order to do so – a sign of readiness for cooperation and the resumption of the Tatar concert broadcasts on weekends, which had been cancelled. Poltoranin’s secretary responded that his chief was very busy, and I had to call his deputy Sergei Yushenkov about it. Yushenkov agreed to meet me and I arrived at the appointed time. In the past I had briefly met with him, to state my position regarding the destruction of chemical weapons stockpiles, so I didn’t have to introduce myself.

I thought that President Yeltsin ought to make a special statement on this subject. Yushenkov got interested in this idea, and he promised that he would immediately talk it over with Sergei Filatov, Yeltsin’s Chief of Staff. Yushenkov also said he would help put into operation the idea of having the Tatar language broadcasts resumed, and he immediately phoned several of the chief producer’s offices at TV and radio stations. As far as I understood, they promised to help and asked me to call. However, in Russia it is difficult to ensure any kind of real and positive result, no matter what you do, without a direct order…

I am sorry that I wasn’t more persistent and didn’t ask Yushenkov to use this method. The result was the proverbial “football,” when you are thrown around with your initiative like a ball. But I decided to do what little I could, and I endlessly dialed the numbers that Yushenkov had given me. The people I called were constantly “out” or “in a meeting.” Finally my patience was exhausted.

Fortunately, as Yushenkov told me the next day, Filatov had approved of my idea of having the Russian President make a statement on chemical weapons. To implement this idea I had to meet with Aleksei Yablokov, the Presidential Advisor for Ecology.

I met him back in January of 1993 in his huge office on the third floor of the Kremlin palace. The vast windows opened up on the Square of the Cathedral of Ivan the Great, where the Tsar-cannon, which has never fired a single shot, is displayed.

When Yablokov learned the reason for my call, he immediately agreed to have a talk with me. Another day I met him and explained my proposal for the Russian President to make a statement regarding the destruction of stockpiles of chemical weapons. Aleksei Vladimirovich agreed with this idea and gave a number of recommendations about how I could develop my project further. The next morning I brought a revised version of the President’s statement to him. Three days later he called me at home to say that he had managed to produce a compromise version of the statement and to get the approval stamps of all the respective services, including the Committee on Conventional Problems, and that the President was just about to sign it. After the statement was signed (five days before the referendum), Yablokov called me again. I went to the Kremlin to see him and he gave me a copy. I cite this statement below and can say that to this day it has fundamental significance connected with the issue of the destruction of chemical weapons stockpiles in Russia.

In April of 1993, Gale Colby let me know that the Cavallo Foundation was going to award me a Special Recognition Award for Moral Courage, for defending the interests and security of mankind.

The award was supposed to be presented early in June 1993. Doubtless, I was very glad to receive it. It was heartwarming that people who were completely unknown to me thought and cared about me. The awarded sum of three thousand dollars literally meant salvation for my family at that time, because I had practically no earnings and my family lived off the aid provided by a Norwegian charity organization. I couldn’t even think about going abroad to accept the award. This is why an invitation followed for my wife Nuria, so she could go to the U.S. in my place and accept the award.

Despite all of our efforts applying to get a foreign passport, we failed to accomplish this in time to go to the U.S. for the awards ceremony.

In the summer of 1993, another event took place that left an indelible impression on me. At the end of May, a famous journalist, environmental activist and former deputy of the U.S.S.R. Congress of People’s Deputies, Aleksander Emelianenkov, called to let me know that Dan Ellsberg, the famous American human rights advocate, was coming to Moscow and he wanted to meet with me. Of course I agreed to meet him without any hesitation.

We met on the evening of June 1, 1993 in a small hotel on Arbat Street. The legendary American was an amazingly modest and lively person. With a slightly stooped posture, like all tall people, thin, with thick gray hair and blue eyes, he gave the impression of a university science professor. It was difficult to imagine that such a man could display the model of civic heroism he had. However, this impression vanished as soon as he started talking. He started asking questions, and I couldn’t help but conclude that a huge will and intellect were behind his simple appearance, which he used to immediately draw the person he was talking with into the discussion. However, he showed no signs of obsession that could even hint at an inclination towards fanaticism. We talked for a few hours and I felt that Dan understood me completely and shared my views.

The meeting left a very positive impression on me at a time when I was facing total uncertainty regarding the outcome of my case. I felt at ease and free. If the man I was talking to hadn’t flinched in the face of a threat of more than 100 years of imprisonment, and had acted for the people’s benefit, then the 5 years of imprisonment that I could face seemed a trifle.

I met Dan again at a press conference held with Russian and foreign correspondents, where we answered numerous questions.[195]^, [196]^, [197]

Will Englund¹⁹⁶ gave a brief update my case, recalling that the Russian government even issued a special amendment to the law on March 30^th, in order to convict me. According to the journalist, Daniel Ellsberg said, “Russia is fortunate and honored to have a citizen like Dr. Mirzayanov…” I think this was an exaggeration; however I must admit that I was very pleased to hear such an appraisal coming from such a grand person as Dan Ellsberg.

Meanwhile Lev Fedorov got his passport and went to the U.S. to attend the ceremony at which I was awarded the Cavallo Foundation prize. Gale gave a brief speech, accepting the award on my behalf. Although I had already read transcripts of Fedorov’s interrogation and knew that he had voluntarily turned over my manuscripts to the Chekists, I decided against demonstrating my contempt for him. I thought: “Let him go and exploit my case. Who knows, maybe his conscience will bother him later…” Alas, I was too naive.

On May 22, 1993, I met Dmitry Ryurikov, the Presidential Aide on Foreign Policy Issues. Ryurikov was forthright in stating his objective for meeting me. He was going to travel to the U.S. and could be asked questions there regarding my case, so he decided to get first hand information.

I stated my position on the issues of chemical weapons for the presidential aide and stressed the ugly and improper role the leaders of the military-chemical complex and the Conventional Committee headed by General Kuntsevich had played. They had misinformed President Yeltsin, compelling him to sign the deceitful government resolution of September 1992, regarding the licensing of chemical weapons precursors.[198] Ryurikov listened to me, asked some questions, and didn’t try to enter into any discussion with me. We talked for about 40 minutes, and at the end of our conversation I asked him to help Nuria get her passport. He promised assistance and later did his best to help, though everything was in vain, either because of the confusion that prevailed in OVIR (the bureau in charge of issuing foreign travel passports), or because of the unwillingness of officials to help this notorious Tatar “troublemaker”.

The summer flew by without any special episodes. On the weekends I went to spend time with my children in Baranovskoe, and on other days I sat in the Investigation Department and copied my case materials, which already had bloated up to five volumes. At night I typed these materials and sent them off to Gale Colby and Irene Goldman in the U.S. Gale was anxious after she read the transcripts of the interrogation and search of Lev Fedorov,[199] because she thought my co-author might try to take some kind of action against me in the future. I didn’t suppose that Fedorov would dare to do it, because that would mean his final degradation in the eyes of the public. I don’t know how and with what pressure my co-author was persuaded, but at the end of August he applied to the Investigation Department to renounce his testimony.

In early September of 1993, one of the coordinators of the ad hoc international movement for my defense, Gale Colby, came to Moscow. She was a plump middle-aged woman with wavy chestnut hair and large brown eyes on her beautiful oval face, and she made a strong impression with her energy and American efficiency. It was a little unusual that she was so simply dressed. It didn’t fit in with my conception of American women. It turned out that she knew some Russian, but she was embarrassed about her pronunciation and constant difficulty with Russian grammar forms, genders, cases, etc. We dropped into a cafe on Old Arbat Street and talked for a long time about my case and all the possible scenarios of its development. Gale again expressed her concern about Fedorov’s behavior and wondered what he might try to pull at the upcoming trial. I comforted her, because I was certain that my co-author had already exhausted his potential for harmful action, and it made no sense for him to act openly against me. However, it was crucial, in my opinion, that there be an open trial. Gale had brought a selection of related news articles on my case and another invitation for Nuria, so that she could visit the U.S. and receive the prize money from the Cavallo Foundation.

At the end of September, Nuria went to the U.S. and on her way back, she spent a few days in Germany, at the invitation of the organization “Scientists for Global Responsibility.” The heads of this organization, Drs. Dieter Meissner and Reiner Braun, had organized a campaign among scientists in Europe for my defense. Their organization had also started providing some much needed financial assistance for my family.

By the end of September, the political situation became extremely edgy in Russia. The Communist opposition was using its typical tactics once more, causing mass disruptions, and they openly started organizing parallel power structures. Rutskoi and Khasbulatov, who were sitting in the Parliament building, started to establish an armed detachment, following the example of the Bolsheviks in 1917. Barannikov, one of the initiators of my case and the KGB chief, became their “Minister of Internal Affairs” and created a squadron of soldiers from the criminal element. Finally, at the beginning of October, when Rutskoi proclaimed himself “President” of Russia and openly called for “smashing” the existing power structure, Boris Yeltsin decided to act decisively against these mutineers. At the time it began, I was home with my two children watching everything that was happening on TV. I won’t describe the world famous scenes of the shootout at the White House and capture of the insurgents. Millions of TV-viewers around the world watched these scenes thanks to the courageous staff of CNN.

I was really suffering strongly about the fate of democracy in our country and was greatly pleased that the criminal adventurers were defeated. However, it never occurred to me or to millions of others, that less than a year later these same people would start their subversive activities again, taking advantage of the humanity of the Yeltsin regime. Finally, Rutskoi even became a regional governor…

Soon I saw with my own eyes what strict measures had been taken at the Investigation Department of Lefortovo Prison to reinforce security. Two military men, armed with small machine-guns, sat near the guard who checked the documents of people summoned to the Investigation Department. It was widely known that there were not enough people in the Lefortovo Investigation Department to investigate the coup. I asked Captain Shkarin if he was also in charge of the rebels’ case. He said he wasn’t.

Next, a lot of information about the rebels’ case appeared on television. It turned out that in contrast with ordinary prisoners, these gentlemen were treated with great indulgence. Their lawyers were allowed in to visit them immediately. They started receiving fresh newspapers, food parcels, and many other things. All of this sharply contrasted with the strict regime for ordinary inmates in Lefortovo, for example, for me and my cellmates. I spent 11 days there and never saw my lawyer once. He wasn’t even allowed to work on my case. However, the situation was completely different for the mutineers. When one of the frantic deputies was only considering going on a hunger-strike to protest his arrest, the whole country knew about it right away. His wife was shown on TV, with tears in her eyes, as she theatrically described how the health of her insurgent husband had deteriorated. As for the mustachioed Russian Air Force General, the newspapers were saying that this prisoner was about to die from despair and depression.

One of my well-informed acquaintances told me that a lot of these “former” criminals had psychotic fits just because there was no vodka in their food allowances. They had become so very addicted to vodka, while zealously “serving” the Russian people with their lavish drinking sprees in the White House. I am certain that even this “deprivation” was only a temporary inconvenience, because prisoners and jailers were, as they say, cut from the same cloth, and they couldn’t let their friends “suffer” too badly. I will return to this theme later, while describing my confinement in “Matrosskaya Tishina” Prison. Any mention of this maximum security facility makes a good many Russians tremble, because it is notorious for its inhumane conditions.

Intuitively I felt that despite all the protests and letters, my case would move along unchanged, because the old system of justice and investigation in Russia was still practically a separate function inside the state. Still, there was hope that the draft of the new Russian Constitution would be approved in the upcoming referendum, and would eliminate all the legal grounds for my case. Article 15 Clause 3 directly proclaimed, “Laws are subject to official publication. Unpublished laws are not to be applied. Any normative legal acts that touch upon the rights, freedom, and responsibilities of a person and citizen, cannot be applied unless they have officially been published for everyone’s information.”

This was a real hymn to the glory of human freedom. It seemed to me that we only had to wait a bit, and after the new Constitution was adopted, the Attorney General’s Office would have to dismiss my case because of the lack of “corpus delicti”. There were other pre-conditions for that as well. First, the law about state secrecy which the Supreme Soviet of Russia had adopted during the last days of its existence required that all lists of information of state secrecy be approved by the President of Russia. The law also abolished numerous departmental lists. Secondly, after the Supreme Soviet was dissolved, Valentin Stepankov, the Attorney General of Russia, who by that time had become a pawn in the hands of the leaders of the October coup, was finally dismissed from his position. Aleksei Kazannik, who was famous for his democratic views and honesty, was appointed in his place. Back in 1989 he did not falter in turning over his position in the former U.S.S.R. Supreme Soviet, to the leader of the opposition and the future President of Russia, Boris Yeltsin.

In my heart I was certain that Aleksei Kazannik knew about my case and that he would personally dismiss it as soon as the guilty verdict arrived at the Attorney General’s Office. Of course, as a scientist who was used to handling numbers I realized that such an outcome wasn’t 100% guaranteed. However, it seemed to me that any other outcome in my case would be unnatural, considering the complex political situation taking shape at the time.

I was very worried and nervous about the wording of the Convention on the Prohibition of Chemical Weapons and the potential for circumventing it. It also seemed to me that although my case became widely recognized because of the violation of basic human rights, the essence of my concerns as expressed in my public statements had not received adequate coverage. I thought about making another statement to the press and drawing the attention of specialists in the West to the issue of chemical weapons. Looking back, again I see how naive I was.