Prague Watchdog: A naive killer

Prague Watchdog: A naive killer

Politics played as a game seldom becomes a crucial political act, even if it looks like one. Even if the game involves a crime as serious as the murder of a politician.

The numerous statements, the open letters to the presidents of Russia and Ingushetia, the whole of the seething pseudo-political operation that has been launched by Ibrahim Yevloyev, mainly on the Internet, will not allow him to wipe away the stigma of being the murderer of Magomed Yevloyev and attain at least a minimum of political status. Ibrahim Yevloyev killed a man who had only just begun to establish the basic rules of the game that he is trying to play. 

The political process in Russia does not lack killers, and those killers are indeed no ordinary perpetrators. In Russia there is no room for the provincial loser who has failed to gain protection from his "masters". Ingushetia, on the other hand, lacks a natural political process as such. Instead, there is a changeable, artificial little world of machinations and conflicting interests, opposing groups and clans, and a kaleidoscope of gossip, rumours, and blood-feuds. Because of the defects of understanding and vision that are typical of someone with his cultural background, the Ingush politician may sincerely believe himself to be authentic.

But with a zeal that deserves to be put to better use, Ibrahim Yevloyev is trying to pull the wool over the eyes of his compatriots and of foreign observers in a vain attempt to hide behind the reputation of a professional politician, to carve out a space for himself – one which, albeit negative, rests on a popularity that is designed to be his indulgence and protection.

Ibrahim Yevloyev and his supporters (or cronies) are able to buy and intimidate judges and prosecutors. The sentence imposed on him by the Ingush Supreme Court of Ingushetia looks like a mockery of justice. But in a world without politics, that is not important. In a country with a developed political system the investigation of the murder case would focus its attention on those who ordered the killing, and on the responsibility of the officials who gave the order. This might do something to alleviate the plight of the actual perpetrator, removing from him some of the blame, at least in the eyes of his countrymen. But in a reality where politics does not exist, the formal rules do not work, and so gradually the role of law and political control comes to be played by informal justice. Unfortunately, Ingush tradition prescribes that only the direct perpetrator of a crime shall be considered responsible for it, while those who ordered the misdeed are not held to account.

The Ingush judge or prosecutor may make it look as though he is sincerely convinced that the killing was the result of "negligence". But like the other 480,000 citizens of Ingushetia he knows that in this republic the shooting of an unarmed arrested suspect is never a random event.

Ibrahim Yevloyev is an Ingush, and all his efforts to evade the mountain law by which the Ingush have lived for a thousand years will ultimately bring no benefit either to himself or to his relatives. He is trying to make a formal apology to the victim’s family, but he knows full well that his chances of this being accepted by them are almost nil. In Ingushetia it is practically impossible to obtain forgiveness for blood that has been deliberately spilled, whether one seeks to obtain it by money or by the intervention of tribal elders. Often the process of reconciliation can drag on for decades.

Ingush traditional law [adat] prescribes no period of limitation for Magomed Yevloyev’s father and brothers in their quest for revenge. Today they seek justice in the courts, for the poor father does not want to risk the lives of his children, but Ibrahim Yevloyev has not been forgiven. Retribution may strike the offender at any time, even twenty or forty years from now. 

While it is possible to criticise this custom for being unfair – to many people, including myself, it looks like a relic of the past and is no guarantee of just retribution – there is no reason to believe that will be discontinued any time soon.

In the past, people in the North Caucasus assumed that the perpetrator [krovnik] and his family would have left his native village, and even sometimes the Caucasus itself, because of the shame and disgrace that might expose the lives of their male kinsfolk to risk. In Ingush history, some krovniki let their hair and fingernails grow or cut off their beards as they waited either for pardon or for retribution. All of these outward signs of grief were intended to show the family of the deceased that the offender had repented and sought reconciliation. Alas, today the situation is different.

All of Ibrahim Yevloyev’s present activity merely bears witness to his insatiable desire to live, and live long. But it will take a miracle for him to be pardoned. And miracles, as we know, do not happen.

March 20, 2010

Mairbek Vatchagaev 

Chechen President Ramzan Kadyrov has refused the services of policemen assigned to Chechnya (www.kp.ru, March 14). It is his first truly significant move since the counter-terrorist operation (CTO) in Chechnya officially ended on April 16, 2009 (www.rosbalt.ru, April 16, 2009).

Kadyrov would not have announced that he no longer wanted policemen from other regions sent to the republic had he not received Moscow’s approval to do so. According to Kadyrov, special operations and OMON units summoned from all corners of Russia are bringing nothing to the republic other than problems. Their efforts to detain militants are fruitless. Generally, they are positioned in such a way that they would not be attacked by the militants; one has to protect them from possible militant assaults.

It is worth noting that those forces are stationed along the major highways of the republic, which makes one think that nothing has changed in the republic after the official ending of the CTO. For Kadyrov, who is trying to create the illusion of a paradise in Chechnya, roadblocks create a bad image. It is also worth noting that not a single militant was detained at such roadblocks since the beginning of the second Chechen War in the fall of 1999. They put psychological pressure more on the local population than on the militants. Very few militants thought of using the republic’s highways for fear of being caught at Russian roadblocks.

The tradition of units from other Russian regions being sent to Chechnya dates back to the first Chechen War. In reality, this practice meant two things: distrust of the local authorities, and an attempt to control the situation in the republic in a way that bypasses Chechnya’s police forces. These units were sent to Chechnya literally from all parts of Russia: Khabarovsk, the Chukotka Autonomous Okrug, Vladivostok, Kaliningrad, St. Petersburg, Moscow, Kazan, Omsk, etc. Each region, krai or republic had to send its detached battalion to police Chechnya for six months twice annually.

Large federal regions like Tatarstan or Moscow were tasked with sending several detachments. The total number of such detachments is kept secret, but it is likely that thousands of policemen arrive in Chechnya knowing virtually nothing about the customs and traditions of the Chechen people. However, it is profitable for the policemen who are sent, because each day counts as three in terms of salary.

Kadyrov intends to make a request to the Russian interior ministry to stop sending the detachments from other regions and spend the money saved on increasing the staff of Chechnya’s interior ministry (www.kavkaz-uzel.ru, March 14). His idea to increase the size of the staff of the Chechen interior ministry is unlikely to be rejected; even though the number of Chechen policemen varies from 17,000 to 27,000, it looks like Moscow will approve Kadyrov’s request. After increasing its police staff by perhaps two thousand, Chechnya will become a republic where policing will be one of the major occupations. It is unlikely that any other profession in the republic has such a large number of people.

Not everyone agrees with Kadyrov on the need to end sending police units from other regions to Chechnya. According to Mikhail Grishankov, the first deputy head of the State Duma’s Security Committee, it is premature to end the deployment of policemen from various regions to Chechnya (Ekho Moskvy, March 13).

Meanwhile, the security situation in Chechnya has not changed dramatically. Kadyrov, not for the first time, has called for a “decisive approach” to the militants. The first time the Chechen authorities made such a call was in May 2009 when, in a bid to catch armed underground leader Doku Umarov, the Chechen and Ingush siloviki conducted operations along the administrative border of Chechnya and Ingushetia. The Ingush government apparently got tired of the shameless interference of their Chechen neighbors. This time the Ingush authorities said “Thank you. We can handle it ourselves.” In response, Kadyrov publicly criticized Ingushetia’s President Yunus-bek Yevkurov (www.chechnya.gov.ru, September 29, 2009).

Kadyrov’s latest attacks on the militants are absolutely identical to his previous efforts, replete with dead bodies of alleged terrorists and detentions of alleged militants and their supporters, all conducted in front of the television cameras and with obligatory expressions of gratitude to Kadyrov for personally leading the operation. In recent years, such scenes have become a trademark of Chechen television.

On March 11, four alleged militants were killed during a special operation conducted in the mountainous part of Chechnya. It appears that police stumbled upon a group of militants in the vicinity of the Shatoi district settlement of Nokhch-Keloi. Otherwise, it is hard to explain how the policemen (who, as they themselves admit, generally do not go deep into the woods) managed to come across the militants. According to them, it is a game of who shoots first. This view, expressed by one of the participants in that operation shows that Kadyrov’s decisiveness and the policemen’s desire to fight are two different things (www.kavkaz-uzel.ru, March 12).

The siloviki, who themselves take part in operations, say that they do not risk going deep into the woods where the militants’ main bases are located. They prefer to wait for the militants for several weeks until they accidentally run into them.

In Chechnya, two servicemen with a special unit of the Russian interior ministry from Ufa were killed during an operation. They were identified as Corporal Malofeyev and warrant officer Giyarov (Interfax, March 14). The incident occurred on the administrative border of Chechnya and Ingushetia, in the vicinity of the settlement of Bamut. This is the second case in the last month in which this unit has endured losses; in February, four other members of this brigade died under similar circumstances.

All of these recent events provide a clear picture of the real Chechnya, without retouching. They also muffle the rapturous cries about reconstructed Grozny. This means that there will be a third, fourth and even more “decisive attacks” on the militants by the authorities, but the result will be the same as after the first and the second Chechen wars.