Musa Muradov about the leader of the Chechen separatists Dzhokhar Dudayev

80 years ago, on February 15, 1944, Dzhokhar Dudayev was born. He had a distinguished career in the armed forces of the Soviet Union, rising to the rank of general and commanding a division of strategic bombers. After the collapse of the USSR, he returned to his native Chechnya and led the separatist movement. A Kommersant correspondent who worked in Grozny in those years as the editor of a local newspaper Musa Muradov recalls how a former Soviet officer in Chechnya became an idol for some and an enemy for others.

Freedom fighter who didn’t like freedom of speech

“You are committing a grave crime,” said Dzhokhar Dudayev and pushed the latest issue of the newspaper “Grozny Rabochiy” towards me.

The front page published official documents of the National Congress of the Chechen People (OCCHN), which was striving to secede from Russia, and decrees of the formally pro-Russian authorities of Checheno-Ingushetia at that time. Then the general hit the table with his fist so hard that the cups from which we drank tea almost overturned.

I was not surprised, knowing Dudayev’s similar manner of communication. He liked to make gestures with his fists. During a conversation, he could suddenly get up from the table, start pacing around the office and hitting each other with tightly clenched hands, accompanying these hits with well-written phrases.

He also liked to snap his fingers. And he did it so deftly that sometimes visitors watched the general’s fingers in admiration, and upon leaving the office, they tried to repeat the clicks. But few people succeeded as a general.

– What is my crime? — I asked, although I had no doubt about the reasons for the complaints.

The fact is that after the actual coup in Grozny, representatives of official pro-Russian structures living their last days submitted decrees to the editor of the newspaper I edited, canceling the decisions of Dudayev’s OKCHN, and I published them. Moreover, in the same selection with the documents of the “revolutionary” regime that proclaimed independence.

For example, a reader picked up a newspaper and saw a resolution of the OKChN on the dissolution of old government bodies and the formation of new management structures. And then – a document from the old authorities, canceling Dudayev’s decisions.

Sometimes things got weird: in my office there were messengers from rival government structures, disputes between which turned into real fights. I separated them, took the documents and published them on equal terms.

My neutrality irritated supporters of Chechen independence. Moreover, they believed that by publishing documents contradicting each other, I was ridiculing the new authorities. Dzhokhar Dudayev told me: “Your newspaper discredits government agencies.”

Dudayev was very sensitive to the attributes of power. For example, having already become president, he banned Chechen television from showing the cartoon “Well, wait a minute!” It allegedly discredits the state symbol of Ichkeria, the wolf.

Another example, I have already detailed before described. Somewhere at the end of 1991, the Prosecutor General of independent Ichkeria, Elsa Sheripova, brought the text of the new constitution to the editorial office of Grozny Rabochiy. By the way, the basic law was made in haste: it was full of typos, in places “Sudan” or the Baltic republics were mentioned instead of “Chechnya”. Moreover, the text was large – two newspaper spreads.

And I thought that in a market economy, the authorities should compensate an independent newspaper for its expenses. I went to Dudayev with this: then with any question they went to the president. But in the end, everything that was brought from Dudayev’s residence or parliament had to be published for free. Otherwise, it was easy to get on the list of oppositionists.

In the end, I was generally offered to change the status of an independent newspaper to the official mouthpiece of the new government. I refused, after which the editorial office was dispersed.

I never met with Dzhokhar Dudayev again and didn’t argue. I always remembered the story of the closure of “Grozny Worker” when one of the supporters of Chechen independence claimed that the general was a beacon of freedom. A good beacon, who first of all closed down the unwanted media outlets that were freed from communist tutelage.

Unconditional idol

The Ichkerian leader could afford anything. For example, be rude to old people who came to complain about non-payment of pensions. “You don’t have to rely on the state, you have children, let them take care of your old age,” he said.

In the same way, he kicked out state employees who were not paid their salaries. “Are you short of money? Then go to the forest and collect medlar there, knit socks and sell them,” the “head of state” advised them.

But Dudayev’s supporters firmly stood their ground, equating any criticism of the general with a betrayal of the idea of ​​freedom and independence.

Once, when, in the company of supporters of Ichkeria, I questioned the legality of renaming Grozny to Dzhokhar without a referendum, I was almost torn apart. “Do you think that Dzhokhar, who died for our freedom, is not worthy to have a city named after him?” — they flew at me.

Some, defending their idol, were ready to grab hold of even a close relative. I remember one such story.

The father sees his son leaving the house armed with a machine gun and asks:

-Where are you going?

“I’m going to destroy everyone who is against Dudayev,” the son answers.

“You can start with me,” the father shouts.

It was impossible to convince the general’s fans; they did not pay attention to any revelations. The Dudayevites were absolutely sure, some are still in this confidence, that he was sent down to the Chechen people by the Almighty. Dzhokhar Dudayev, who allegedly made a career in the Soviet army, actually dreamed of giving freedom to the Chechens all his life. This, one might say, blind faith of a part of Chechen society was the reason for the phenomenon of the general’s popularity. Faith is such a thing, it is not pragmatic.

This was the first and largest group of Dudayev’s supporters – people who unconditionally trusted their idol and were confident in his divine mission.

A chance for the active and pragmatic

The second group of Dudayevites, much smaller than the first, are pure pragmatists. Such as, for example, Movladi Udugov, who took the post of Minister of Propaganda in the Ichkerian government. Yesterday, an unknown ordinary employee of one of the regional newspapers, who had a criminal record for petty extortion, suddenly became an influential figure.

After the first war, Udugov even tried to take the highest post in Ichkeria, taking part in the 1997 presidential elections. But in the republic they knew well who Udugov was, and less than 1% of voters voted for him.

Udugov was offended, distanced himself from Aslan Maskhadov, who won the elections, and after some time joined Shamil Basayev, who also went into opposition to the elected president, declaring himself the emir of Ichkeria. When the second military campaign began in 1999, former Minister of Propaganda Udugov immediately left Ichkeria and hid in one of the eastern countries.

And there were quite a few of these types who, under the communists, never managed to get to the top, to make at least some kind of professional career, appeared next to Dzhokhar Dudayev.

Under Dudayev’s regime, wide opportunities also opened up for figures from the semi-criminal business. They flocked to Grozny from all over Russia. At first, they spent good money on the revolution, and then received high positions in the government of Ichkeria with broad distributive powers. They started their own simple, but very profitable business, which boiled down to the export of oil and petroleum products from the republic.

“Let Dudayev play his game, and we will make money,” these people said.

The third group of Dudayev’s followers are people from among the outright criminals whom the general released from prison. A prominent representative of this category was the racketeer Ruslan Labazanov. At first, he remained close to the general, fulfilling the duties of chief of his security. But later Labazanov put together his own detachment, armed it to the teeth and became an independent power unit in Ichkeria.

Labazanovites brought real terror to the residents of Chechnya, driving around in jeeps with machine guns mounted on the roofs. Their leader became such a Chechen father Makhno, ceasing to recognize the power of Dudayev.

Eventually the general had to send his troops to defeat the rebels. Labazanov himself managed to escape, but his detachment was destroyed. Three of Labazanov’s closest associates were beheaded by Dudayev’s men and their severed heads were put on public display in the center of Grozny.

Antihero

Russian security forces killed Dzhokhar Dudayev in April 1996. The most ardent fans did not believe in the death of the idol for a long time, claiming that he would soon appear.

In the summer of 1997, Maskhadov summoned the nephew of the first president and mayor of Grozny, Lecha Dudayev.

– Why are you fooling people and mocking the memory of the heroically deceased Dzhokhar? – Maskhadov was indignant. He demanded that Dudayev’s relative officially announce the general’s death, show people his grave and conduct the required rites.

“I don’t think that Dzhokhar died,” the mayor objected.

Of course, the general also had ardent opponents in Chechnya, who were confident that his somewhat unexpected appearance was part of a conspiracy by certain forces against the republic. The general’s opponents had more than enough arguments in favor of this version: the republic’s economy was completely destroyed, the population was impoverished and the complete chaos of people with weapons.

And the worst thing is armed civil strife. Political disagreements became the cause of bloody clashes between the Chechens themselves.

In June 1993, on the orders of Dudayev, Basayev’s gang shot deputies of the Grozny city assembly who were preparing a referendum on the status of Chechnya. Dozens of civilians died. They were killed with weapons that the federal military left behind when leaving the republic.

How did it happen, Dudayev’s opponents reasoned, that the separatist leader, openly hostile to Moscow, was able to agree with the leadership of the Ministry of Defense on the hasty withdrawal of federal troops and the transfer of a huge arsenal to the Chechens – from small arms to tanks and self-propelled guns?

Really, how?

Musa Muradov