1980_04 Hye Sharzhoom Newspaper April 1980

              April, 1980
Hye Sharzhoom
Page 5
'Ghost of Stalin' at trial
Soviet war hero decries Zadikyan execution
General Grigorenko
Soviet war hero General Petro Grigorenko was imprisoned several times in
the USSR for criticizing the regime,
including, from 1968 to 1974, for protesting the Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia. Stripped of his Soviet citizenship while visiting here in 1978, he was
granted U.S. asylum. General Grigorenko has been an activist in the international campaign against human rights
violations in the USS/t. Wis freedom
at issue article was translated by Vladimir Lhestnoy.
by Petro Grigorenko
In late January of this year, an event
took place in Moscow which did not
attract the attention of the world press,
despite the most tragic consequences
with which it was fraught—not only for
the Soviet Union, but for the entire
world.
I am going to describe that event. On
January 29, Professor Andrei Sakharov
told foreign correspondents that "a
Moscow court had condemned to capital
punishment Stepan Zadikyan, a thirty-
three-year-old Armenian student," and
two others. The sentence, said the
academician, "was somehow linked to
the blast in the Moscow subway in
1977," and he stated further that "to the
best of my knowledge, Zadikyan had not
been in Moscow either before or during
the explosion in the subway (emphasis
added)."
The communique issued the next day
(January 30, 1979) by TASS, the Soviet
news agency, said that the parents had
been notified about the death sentence
on January 26, and that "the sentence
was executed."
The chain of events
There seems to be nothing remarkable
about the affair. Some terrorists were
seized who exploded bombs in crowded
places. They were brought to trial and
then shot without mercy. It seems quite
logical and reasonable. But let us look
at the circumstances of this case more
attentively.
The explosion in a Moscow subway
car occurred on January 8, 1977, more
than two years ago. Seven people were
killed, and thirty-seven wounded.
The blast made a tremendous impression on Moscovites. The senseless act of
brutality has not been forgotten, even to
this day. Then what should the author
ities, including the police, have done
after apprehending those who committed such an atrocity?
I think that, after the arrest of the terrorists, the authorities should have immediately announced it. This was, in
fact, done. On July 7, 1977, a half-year
after the blast, TASS reported that "the
security bodies had arrested several
persons who confessed to the explosion
in the Moscow subway, as well as some
other crimes." The authorities seemed
to be acting correctly — but they brought
the wrong people to trial. In July 1977,
the men now executed continued to live
peacefully in their homes. They were
actually arrested only in the fall of 1977.
About those who were detained in July,
we have heard no more. Thus, we ask
these quite natural and legitimate questions: Was anybody at all arrested in
July 1977, and if nobody was, why was
the TASS communique on the alledged
arrest issued?
The people now shot as the blast
culprits were apprehended almost ten
months after that tragic day. The search
for the criminals went on for a very long
time, and one would suppose that, when
the authorities finally decided to make
the arrest, the guilt of the suspects had
been proven conclusively. But the further developments run counter to this
logical assumption. As a matter of fact,
as many as sixteen months passed from
the arrest until the "trial," which is
six months more than the maximum lawful time-limit for the investigation and
preparation of a case for trial. Why?
There is not answer, but let us keep in
mind that the Soviet authorities did not
hurry either in seeking the culprits or in
carrying on the investigation.
Moreover, throughout the whole
period from their arrest until their
execution, the alleged culprits were
held not only in the strictest possible
isolation, but also in utter secrecy. They
were clandestinely transported from
Armenia to Moscow, and the place of
their custody was concealed even from
their families.
Yet, most surprising of all was the procedure in the court of "justice."
In what manner should terrorists have
tried who start waging a war against
defenseless civilians? Every sensible
person will reply: Only by means of
an open trial, with radio, TV, and press
coverage, so that everybody could see
what kind of people the criminals were,
and evaluate their characters. And how
were they actually tried? In an absolutely secret manner. It is still not known
where the trial took place, when it
began, how long is lasted, or when the
sentence was passed. No members of the
public attended the trial. Absent was
even that usual, characteristically
Soviet, trial-hall "public," consisting of
secret police officers in plain clothes,
who fill up the court premises during the
trials of human-rights defenders. Nor
were there any relatives, or witnesses.
Neither was there a counsel for the defense. Only the judges and the attorney
for the prosecution (the so-called "procurator") were allowed to be present.
Thus, we have grounds to conclude that
there was no trial—even in the Soviet
meaning of this word. What did take
place was a typical session of the virtually revived, notorious troika (a boar a
of three during the Stalin era, which
usually arrived at a death sentence).
When was the sentence executed?
Again, unknown. The parents were notified about the sentence on January 26,
a Friday. In accordance with the prevailing practice, they were probably
informed later in the day rather than
earlier. Two non-business days followed.
This means that the parents of—to take
one of the three—Stepan Zadikyan,
were able to begin appealing on behalf
of their son only on Monday, January 29.
And at that time he was already dead.
Was he still alive on January 26?
If so, was he shot on Saturday, Sunday,
or at dawn of Monday? Whatever the
details, everything was arranged in such
a way as to exclude a last rendezvous
with relatives and ensure that nobody
should see alive the people doomed to
execution, so that they could tell nobody
what they had experienced during those
terrible sixteen months.
I did not know any of the people involved, but I can see them. I can recall the
secret police bringing me, just freshly
torn away from my family—in the same
way as those three Armenian martyrs—
to the Yerevan prison. Then the KGB
deliver us to Moscow. Together with
these doomed people I go along the
deadly corridors of the capital's Lefor-
tovo jail...Or did the KGB, perhaps, for
the sake of still greater isolation, reopen
for them the nightmare dungeons
of the old Lubyanka prison?. Long ago,
I had the bad luck to experience that
prison, too, and even now I see clearly
its cells, crowded with the ghosts of
those tortured there and then killed.
Is is into these cells that the KGB beasts
are throwing the people about whom I
am now writing...Then the dreadful
days and nights begin, ever more horrible. There is no single human face all
around. There is absolutely nobody nearby to whom one can say a human word—
and hope for understanding. You are
surrounded, exclusively, by jailers and
executioners. Instead of inter human
communication—torture. Yes, torture.
Brutal, inhuman. (If there had been no
torture, there would have been no need
to hurry so feverishly with the execution). The only thing sustaining you
morally, is the hope for the trial, for an
advocate. ("Oh, it is there that I'll
be able to tell about the torturing!...")
But the death sentence, and the very
last, slender hope of a tormented and
doomed human being is the hope for the
last rendezvous. ("It is during that
last meeting that my desperate outcry
about the horrors of a Soviet torture
chamber will reach all the world-
through my parents!") Alas, there is no
last rendezvous either. How dreadful
it is to die, being aware that the executioners remain unexposed and unpunished.
Yet, truth will triumph, and the executioners will not escape denunciation and
punishment! Because we have seen and
continue to see, all your sufferings—and
we will never forgive your murders.
The question of guilt
The only question that remains to be
clarified is why the three accused per
sons were tortured and killed. It is self-
evident that they did not detonate a
bomb in the subway. One of the most
honest people of our time, a great
scientist who does not make an assertion
unless he has sufficiently convincing
proofs, Andrei Sakharov, has stated
publicly, for all the world to hear, that
the sentence passed "was either an
error—or a deliberately illegal sentence."
He rules out the very possibility of guilt.
The victims are innocent. The problem is reduced only to whether the judges have committed a crime or just made
a mistake.
Who, then, detonated the bomb?
The KGB. This is also self-evident.
In order to understand the purpose of
such an undertaking, let us refer to
history. In 1934, an NKVD—manipulated murderer killed Sergei Kirov, a prominent Soviet Communist Party leader -
a killing that was directed by Stalin himself. By this act, Stalin achieved two
goals: He eliminated a possible political
rival, and he created a pretext for the
purge of opposing elements. The trial
of Nikolayev, the murderer, and of a
whole group of the supporters of Grigori
Zinovyev (another notable Party figure)—
which group was linked to the murder
case artifically—was, in reality, nothing
more than the first step in the making of
punishment, and shot speedily. Then
followed trials of the leaders of the
Zinovyev faction, and the pivitol testimony was that of the previously executed members of that faction.
Stalin's imitators not only write his
biographies and spread them in 15-million circulations; they also imitate his
cannibal actions. The case of the blast in
the Moscow subway, seemingly a horrible caricature, reminds one of the case
of Kirov's murder, as a result of which
scores of "accomplices" were condemned to death. The difference is only in
details. Then there was a bullet, now
there was a bomb. Then the trial followed immediately, now it took place
after two years. But the common characteristic of both "trials" is that, both then
and now, the people brought to trial
were innocent.
The abnormal gap between the more
recent crime's date and that of the
"trial" is a result of a struggle, of a
stronger challenge than had been expected. The KGB tried, immediately
after the explosion, to spread the gossip
that the blast had been carried out by
dissidents. More than ten human-
rights defenders—spontaneously, without any prior coordination of their
actions-made public statements to the
effect that the subway explosion was,
most likely, the responsibility of the
KGB itself. I was one of those who made
such a statement. Note, however, that
the authorities reacted officially only to
the declaration made by Professor
Sakharov. He was warned that he would
be arrested. Yet, the flow of the rumors
from the KGB stopped instantaneously.
The state security bosses, after having
met with such a decisive rebuff, shifted
to the secret preparation of a frame up,
with a view to staging secretly a corresponding "trial." In order not to alarm
public opinion, the KGB chose to arrest
for that purpose not well-known libertarians, but rank-and-file people. As a
continued on page 12
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