Breakaway Dancing A defiant Caucasian mountain people struggles for independence from Kremlin rule
By JOHN KOHAN Grozny
Resting their hands on the shoulders of the men ahead, dozens of dancers snake forward in a circle, chanting the name of Allah and holy descendants of their clan. The elders in the swaying line wear traditional Karakul sheepskin hats decorated with white bands to show they have made the pilgrimage to Mecca. Off to the side, a spry old sheik, his fluffy white beard falling to his waist, urges on the dancers with a shake of his wooden staff, keening a melancholy melodic line above the hypnotic sound of shuffling feet and clapping.
A long history is compressed in this ancient rite for the dead in Grozny, the capital of the self-proclaimed Republic of Chechnya, a Muslim enclave of 1.1 million people in Russia's North Caucasus region. The dancers belong to the formerly banned Muridic brotherhood, whose members claim to be direct descendants of Sheik Mansur, an 18th century warrior who led a revolt by Caucasian tribes against Russian colonizers. This particular ceremony honors the victims of 20th century repression: the 200,000 Chechens who died when Stalin accused them of treason against the Soviet state and deported the entire nation of half a million people to Central Asia in 1944, where they were condemned to live until 1957.
Suddenly, all eyes turn away from the dancers. A diminutive man in black coat and felt hat, surrounded by armed guards, has jostled his way onto a stage nearby and begins to speak. He talks about a new danger from Moscow. "We must stand firm against all kinds of provocations," declares Jokhar Dudayev, a former Soviet air force general who became President of a breakaway Chechnya in an unopposed election in October 1991.
His impassioned speech delivered, Dudayev walks back to his office, the former Communist Party building. He is engulfed by a mob of admirers who pursue him over fences and through withered rosebushes. "Tell the world we will fight for independence," shouts one excited youth. "We are ready to die for Dudayev. The Russians have trampled us underfoot for too long!"
In Moscow, 1,500 km to the north, no epithet is too vile to describe Dudayev, who commanded Soviet strategic bomber forces in Estonia before resigning from the air force to spearhead the Chechen-Ingush Autonomous Republic's 1991 campaign for independence. Moscow does not recognize his regime; his foes in Russia compare him with Hitler and accuse him of fostering terrorism and ethnic unrest. Chechens, by contrast, regard Dudayev as the latest chieftain to appear in their centuries-long struggle against Russian rule. Dudayev plays down the historical angle, but a huge portrait of Sheik Mansur hangs in the presidential office.
The Chechen challenge has created a colossal headache for Moscow. Two weeks after the October 1991 elections, President Boris Yeltsin denounced the new regime as illegitimate and imposed a state of emergency on the region. Moscow was forced to back down, however, after rebellious Chechens, following Dudayev's orders, bottled up Russian forces in their military bases. The Kremlin is suspected of having masterminded a failed coup attempt against Dudayev last year.
Holding on, the Chechen leader gradually applied squeeze tactics of his own to force Russian troops off Chechen territory, preventing replacements from relieving soldiers who had completed their term of service. When Moscow threatened to take military action, Dudayev blockaded remaining troops and forced their evacuation. He now claims that the departing forces left behind "the most serious of weapons, including missiles." Says he: "We have the right to defend ourselves by the same methods that have been used against us."
The Russian government is particularly suspicious of Dudayev's broader ambitions in the North Caucasus region, which, as home to more than 40 ethnic groups, is the most explosive piece of territory within the Russian Federation. Dudayev sees Chechnya as the core state of a new federation of North Caucasian peoples. "The Caucasus must be united," he says. "This is the only option." He has visited Armenia and Georgia to offer his services as a diplomatic mediator in regional conflicts. Dudayev contends that Chechen volunteers fighting with rebels in Georgia's breakaway region of Abkhazia actually constitute "a peacekeeping force."
Russian-Chechen peace talks have been going nowhere. The Chechens insist that acceptance by Moscow of their independence is a precondition for reintegration into Russia, perhaps as an associated state of the Russian Federation. The Kremlin is under pressure not to give in to demands for regional sovereignty. There is fear that tolerating the Dudayev rebellion might trigger a chain reaction in other republics and lead to the collapse of the Russian Federation in much the same way that Mikhail Gorbachev's failure to handle Baltic independence demands brought down the Soviet Union. While the standoff continues, Russian soldiers are keeping watch on Chechnya from the neighboring region of Ingushetiya.
Moscow officials hope that the nationalist revolt will prove so burdensome for Chechens that the Dudayev regime will collapse from within. To give things a nudge, Russia has frozen banking operations in the republic, leaving public employees and pensioners without salaries or other funds. Food shipments from the adjoining, agriculturally rich Stavropol territory have been stopped, and until air service between Moscow and Grozny was restored two weeks ago, the only way to reach Chechnya from Russia was by land. With growing numbers of Russian technicians leaving the region, TV programs suddenly go off the air, rural areas suffer power blackouts, and telephone lines are permanently busy. By 6 p.m. the streets of Grozny (pop. 400,000) are deserted.
The Dudayev government is trying to ease the pain inflicted by the blockade by subsidizing essential food items with revenues from the region's oil industry, which is now fully under Chechen control. Basic supplies are available in the shops, but the cost of bread, for example, is set so low, at one ruble a loaf, that state-run bakeries faced constant shortages, and rationing had to be introduced this month. On the other hand, Chechen entrepreneurs, well known throughout the former Soviet Union for their skill at making deals one step ahead of the law, appear to be prospering from blockade running. Grozny's main boulevard looks like an international auto showroom, offering a fair selection of Mercedes, Cadillacs, BMWs and Volvos.
Weapons are plentiful as well; suppliers can be found without much trouble in a pavilion of Grozny's central bazaar. A Makarov pistol sells for 400,000 rubles ($615). A Kalashnikov automatic rifle goes for 250,000 rubles ($385); if bought in lots of 10, the price per rifle drops by 20,000 rubles. A grenade launcher with a night-vision device retails for 1 million rubles ($1,540).
In contrast to the shabby apartment blocks and rusting oil installations of the city, the flat, cultivated fields outside Grozny offer a glimpse of a Chechnya without the Russo-Soviet cultural stamp. The red brick minarets of new mosques rise above intricately decorated homesteads built, like minifortresses, around central yards. In Urus-Martan, an agricultural center 20 km south of Grozny, villagers animatedly debate the future: "The Russians have shut off everything but the air we breathe. We have to find a way out of this crisis."
"I used to believe in Dudayev, but now I think he's a windbag."
"I wouldn't blame the President. His hands are tied by parliament."
"Maybe we need an Islamic republic?"
"Are you crazy? The Russians would never allow it."
"If everyone would just leave us alone, we could become a second Luxembourg."
The villagers agree on one point: there can be no return to the Russian Federation without solid legal guarantees of Chechens' right to an independent existence. At a museum exhibit in Grozny on the horrors of the 1944 deportation, a visitor has left, under a portrait of Stalin, a scribbled message that sums up the mood: ALL THE SAME, WE HAVE WON! Signed: THE CHECHEN REPUBLIC.
