Вил Мирзаянов - State Secrets - An Insider's Chronicle of the Russian Chemical Weapons Program

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.

After the November holidays I was summoned once more to the Investigation Department. A document was waiting for my signature, confirming that I had read the case in its entirety. Leaving the department, I bid farewell to Investigator Shkarin (he had been awarded the rank of major by that time), and I offered him my hand for the first time. I even told him that he wasn’t the worst investigator, because I had never heard any insulting words from him, and there had been no attempts to provoke me to take irresponsible actions. He seemed pleased, and I tried to imagine how disappointed he would be when the Attorney General didn’t sign off on his work, but cancelled it with a flourish.

At the end of November of 1993, Aleksander Asnis called to say I was to go with him to a department of the Attorney General’s Office on Kuznetsky Most (Bridge). I thought that would be the long-awaited end to my ordeal. I was sure that we had been summoned so they could hand us the decision about the termination of my case. We met near the Kuznetsky Most Metro Station and quickly reached the Attorney General’s Office. I noticed that my lawyer didn’t look particularly triumphant, but Aleksander Asnis was always serious. His face seldom expressed any emotions at all.