At that time in my life, before my trial, I read the whole package of international human rights acts for the first time in my life, and I thoroughly studied the new Constitution of Russia.
Everything in these papers indicated that there were no legal grounds for the prosecution of my case. I already wrote that not one of the lists, on which the prosecution was based and conducted, mentioned even a single word about chemical agents or chemical weapons. The situation was supposed to remain exactly the same as it was before, in the newly democratic Russia. The new list of information of state secrecy, adopted by resolution of the Council of Ministers number 733-55 of September 18, 1992, entered into force on January 1, 1993 and is not fundamentally different from the previous document. However, it turned out that my actions interfered with tradition in this area. As a result, this document was amended with a secret resolution number 256-55 of the Council of Ministers dated March 30, 1993.[298] In this document, things were called by their true names, directly and clearly, as befits a serious legal document. Although Investigator Shkarin didn’t directly cite this amendment in the indictment as a basis for my legal proceedings, the very fact that this resolution was included in the criminal case materials shows that it was meant to be used during the trial.
The question remained open: can previous lists, as well as the new list of secrets with amendments be used in a trial? They must be published to come into effect legally. That was the requirement of the new Constitution. This one thought, aside from everything else, literally caused me to burn with indignation. It turned out that the Chekists and the court wanted to carry out an instructive lesson, by using my example, “You can write and adopt various constitutions, but we will manage without them, and we will judge you according to our former rules.”
Someone had to try and break this endless vicious circle. But who could do it? We had become accustomed to waiting for someone else to do this for us. This mythic “someone else” is probably smarter than we are, more self sacrificing, has no children or old parents to care for…
My resolve to take action was slowly but surely ripening. I didn’t share my vague and still maturing plans with anybody. Unfortunately, at that time I didn’t have anyone close to me, with whom I could discuss and consider my intentions. I didn’t know how the public, the ordinary people, would react if I threw out a challenge to the “new” system of the Soviet justice.
By that time, my lawyer Aleksander Asnis was rapidly recovering. Soon he was back at work full time, and we often talked on the phone. He was planning to petition the court to appoint a new expert commission, and he was looking for new candidates to be experts. A number of famous scientists agreed to take on that role.
Meanwhile, it seemed that everything in the country and in the world followed its proper course. President Clinton’s long-awaited visit to Moscow took place. The State Duma, where supporters of Zhirinovsky and Communists prevailed at that time, gave amnesty to the putsch ring-leaders and participants of the bloody revolt, which had claimed hundreds of victims. The democratic deputies literally sobbed into their microphones, demagogically urging people to stop “dividing everybody into red and white camps.” Translated into normal language, this was an appeal for honest and decent people to join forces with the criminals. Social demagogy had never reached such a pinnacle, even during the times of the Communist regime. The new Attorney General was completely preoccupied with solving this “nationwide” job. It was clear that nobody had time to attend to my case…
CHAPTER 22
Trial and Prison
Prosecutor Pankratov and the Judges
My day in court began on January 24, 1994 at 10.30 A.M. Nobody accompanied me this time, and I reached the courthouse alone. There was a lively group of Russian and foreign correspondents and television reporters milling about outside the courthouse, and my lawyer Asnis was already answering their questions. Valeria Novodvorskaya was there with her lads from the Democratic Union movement. We warmly greeted each other and posed for the photojournalists. I told the reporters that this day was a test for the new Russian Constitution, which had been developed with such difficulty. A great number of people in Russia and the rest of the world placed their hopes on this document.
Two policemen were standing by the doors of the courtroom, and we went inside and took our seats. I sat down on the defendants’ bench and Asnis took a seat in the lawyer’s section, not far from me. The prosecutor’s place was occupied by an elderly man of retirement age, with sparse gray hair, who was missing his left arm. He was dressed in a prosecutor’s uniform, and as you could tell from his medals and ribbons that he was clearly a disabled veteran of the Great Patriotic war (WW II). Soon we heard: “Rise. Court is in order!” Judge Nikolai Sazonov appeared, followed by a light-haired woman, and a tall powerful man, stooped over under the weight of seven thick volumes which he carried under his arm. I was surprised and wondered why there were seven volumes, instead of the five that I had read.
Quickly, I got it. The investigator was trying to make the case seem more weighty and significant, by adding two more volumes. Judge Sazonov proclaimed the opening of the hearing of my criminal case, which would be heard before a judicial panel consisting of Nikolai Sazonov, Valentina V. Laricheva, and Victor G. Yudin, Court Secretary T.V. Pankratova, and with the participation of Prosecutor Leonid S. Pankratov and lawyer Aleksander Ya. Asnis.
When the judge asked if I had any questions or petitions, I stood up and delivered a prepared speech listing my petitions. I declared that the investigation was putting an accusatory spin on my case, and it was obviously biased with the clear goal of putting me – the defendant – in jail at any cost, and in this way frightening possible future opponents of the leaders of the military-chemical complex. Departmental lists of information of state secrecy were being used for that, as well as the so-called List of Major Information of State Secrecy. I added that these are classified documents and were not attached to my case, so my lawyer and I didn’t have any way to dispute them. However, the major point was that these normative acts had not been published. This is a direct violation of the Paragraph 3 of Article 15 of the Constitution of the Russian Federation, which gives the precise definition, “Any normative legal acts that touch upon the rights, freedom, and responsibilities of a person and a citizen, cannot be applied unless they have officially been openly published for everybody’s inspection.”
In my first petition I asked the court to recognize these normative acts and the secret lists of state secrecy as null and void on constitutional grounds. Additionally, I asked the court to cancel the closed hearing of my case, because it contradicted Article 14 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights and Articles 9-10 of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights. My lawyer Alexander Asnis and I filed numerous petitions, including one in which we asked the prosecution to show us the “special purpose program” in the interests of the defense of the country and its results, which I had allegedly disclosed information about. Up to that time, it had not been done, so I asked the court to comply with my second request to show me that program, so that I could finally find out what it was that I had disclosed. Also, since a majority of members of the expert commission formed by “the investigation” were representatives of an interested party, I asked the court to appoint a new, and this time independent, commission.