Chechen Roundabout

The Chechen conflict tends to be viewed as a conflict between Chechnya and Russia. But what is going on among the Chechens themselves? Are dialogue and understanding possible?


The Chechens' first attempt to sit down at a roundtable and find a common language and approach was not a success


Several days of heated discussions in Grozny did little too cool the passions and much to obscure the already dim prospects for progress. Top Chechen officials killed a lot of the time wrangling over who was to blame for events in the past. Social Justice party lead-er Imali Abdulmu dismissed the roundtable as "empty shop talk where no one listened to anyone else."


Ruslan Khasbulatov said roughly the same thing. The former speak-er of the Russian parliament, and Moscow's new hope in Chechnya, expressed deep disappointment over both the round-table and progress toward a peaceful settlement.


Still, the frank exchange of opinions in Grozny did show that, for all their disagreements about the past, the Chechens can agree on the future. Every participant in the roundtable discussion favored preserving Chechnya's political status as is. Without the idea of national independence, none of them stands to succeed at the polls.


The problem of holding elections and defining Chechnya's political status is gradually moving into the foreground. Though the elections scheduled for Nov. 5 have been put off, the postponement has been fiercely protested. Even the Committee of National Accord, KNS, which agreed to delay elections, is wrestling with this issue. Roughly a third of KNS members would still like elections to be held next month.


But KNS chairman Umar Avturkhanov favors disarming first, rather than going to the polls "under the barrel of a gun." This arrangement would suit Moscow whose special envoy, Oleg Lobov, was the first to say that elections must be postponed.


Moscow knows it cannot delay discussing the explosive issue of Chechnya's political status any longer. This may be why Lobov recently announced that President Boris Yeltsin's staff is hammering out a draft agreement which would give Chechnya broad powers and sovereignty. Legal experts believe that the Chechens will be offered something like the accord that Moscow once signed with largely autonomous Tatarstan.


It is doubtful, however, that Grozny will accept a Tatarstan-like accord. In any case, I met no one in Chechnya who favored adopting the formula of the Russian delegation's deputy head, Arkady Volsky: "A free Chechnya, but part of Russia."


KNS official Lechi Magomadov, for instance, said: "I see Chechnya as a sovereign state. But we must have a firm guarantee that this sovereignty will never be trampled by any one again. We must have the chance to appeal to the outside world in case of need. We must be subject to international law. Within the Russian Federation or without, it makes no difference. Having lived through two deportations, the Chechen people no longer believe in governments as such or in Moscow's laws and promises. What we want is a peaceful resolution of all problems, and free will." If Chechnya manages to form a parliament, it will probably ask Moscow for sweeping powers, bordering on secession.


The KNS and the Government of National Rebirth, PNV, sound just as maximalist about Chechnya's political status as rebel President Dzhokhar Dudayev. PNV chairman Salambek Khadzhiyev has said that on the subject of elections and Chechnya's future parliament, relations are tenser with Moscow than with Dudayev supporters.


Dudayev has accused the Russian authorities, the KNS and PNV of purposely postponing elections in an effort to keep Chechens away from the polls altogether. In his opinion, Russia has no intention of implementing the July 30 accords on military disengagement because it fears that the opposition will win the elections. Dudayev's term as president ends this month and he claims that the date he named for new elections -- Oct. -- remains in force.


In discussions about future relations between Russia and Chechnya, Dudayev's voice is almost inaudible. But his position is known and remains unchanged. And while Yeltsin has labeled him a "bandit," Dudayev's portrait is plastered all over Chechnya, the posters are larger and more numerous than those of Avturkhanov or Khadzhiyev.


Logically speaking, Chechnya's elections and political status should be dealt with after the military accords have been implemented. But there is no logic or common sense to events in Chechnya. And if one considers that the surrender of arms by Chechen fighters has been suspended while the Russian generals are making ready for another winter in Grozny, then the prospects for free will at this point would seem to be nil.


In the two months preceding last Friday's terrorist bomb attack against Lieutenant General Anatoly Romanov, the Special Observer Commission gathered a little over 1,000 weapons. A slim harvest. At that rate, the Chechens will be disarming until the end of the century. Lobov has said that the campaign could be considered "basically" complete once 40,000 to 50,000 guns have been taken in. But even if this target is reached, which is unlikely, the Chechens will still have over 20,000 weapons. This is twice the amount in the arsenals of self-defense detachments being created in settlements around Chechnya.


It seems strange and sinister to see Chechens living cheek by jowl with federal forces in cities which they left a few months ago and to which they returned without a single shot being fired. They do not plan to part with their arms when they hear that Avturkhanov's men are secretly buying up guns from the people and paying them more than the official commission.





Boris Vinogradov is a political commentator for Izvestia. He contributed this comment to The Moscow Times