Showing posts with label [agunya]. Show all posts
Showing posts with label [agunya]. Show all posts

Russia: Bloggers Discuss the Market Bombing in North Ossetia

Global Voices Online
Saturday, September 11, 2010


A suicide car bombing outside a market in Vladikavkaz, the capital of the Republic of North Ossetia-Alania, killed at least 18 people and wounded over 100 on Sept. 9. The attack is not the first one to occur at this location (62 people were killed there in 1999, 12 in 2008); it also came just days after the sixth anniversary of the 2004 school siege tragedy in Beslan, a town 15 km north of Vladikavkaz.

North Ossetian bloggers' initial reactions to Thursday's market blast reflected their exasperation with the ongoing violence in the region.

LJ user liza-valieva, a Vladikavkaz-based journalist, wrote (RUS):

An explosion at the central market, again. Half an hour ago. Could be heard even here.

There are the dead and the wounded.

Will it ever end?

Below is one exchange from the comments section:

maxialla:

I've never been a supporter of this point of view - "[the best way out is to move elsewhere]" - but right now it [appears rational] :( [...]

liza_valieva:

It is always possible to move, but people I care about will still stay behind, and no matter where I am, I'll worry about them just as much.

Moscow-based LJ user glazastikk wrote (RUS):

[...] My sister said that papa was fine, and then I got through to him myself, asked him to leave the market, because I was afraid there'd be a second explosion. [...]

And then I was scared for all those who have failed to get through to their folks on the phone. And I keep thinking of it ever since [...].

[...]

I'm sick of being scared and worried. And I don't see a way out. [...]

LJ user manavar, a Vladikavkaz-based medical student, was at the local hospital at the time of the blast. He wrote (RUS):

[...] Ambulances, [public mini-buses], regular cars were rushing in. We unloaded a woman whose arm had been blown off. Then there was another one, missing an eye. Seventeen people were brought in. Two corpses. One person, already dead, was lying on the floor of a yellow mini-bus. A man. One woman died at the ER. Most people had shrapnel cuts. [...]

As always, there was not enough medications. [...] For the first hour and a half, there was chaos at [the hospital], strangers were walking around. Things got better only when the police had cordoned off the hospital.

People were saying that at the school near the site of the bombing all the windows had been blown out and the children had been cut with shrapnel.

[Damn!] When will it all end!

In another post, LJ user manavar wrote (RUS) about his mother's experience that day:

[...] Mama was at the market at that time, she was walking around the aisles inside and was just planning to go to a store [...]. She stayed on [inside] for a second longer to look at the vegetables. The blast was so powerful that her ears got plugged. [...] Mama managed to squeeze herself into some niche and thus avoided the stampede. People ran, fell down, got up, ran again. Hundreds of people running from the area where black smoke was rising; only a few running towards that area. Some in order to help, others because they'd left their dear ones there. Only when the crowd receded, mama was able to get out of the niche and also went towards the exit.

Her hands are still shaking. And I can still see that woman with one eye missing. She is somebody's mother, too.

LJ user manavar's first post was featured (RUS) in the Radio Echo of Moscow's blog section. He admitted that such publicity upset him, but his post also sparked a discussion that highlighted a rather common perception of Russia's North Caucasus as a mismanaged "someplace else":

osokin:

You constantly have terrorist attacks over there! So why was there "not enough medications" then? Who is responsible for the supplies?

crafty:

I am a Muscovite. And it's OVER HERE in Russia that there are terrorist attacks and it's OVER HERE that there is chaos with medications. The fish rots from the head. Just imagine that the blast took place at a market in your neighborhood - there wouldn't even be enough [blood] plasma at the local hospital, let alone everything else.

LJ user gagloyev, a Moscow-based Ossetian blogger, detected a similar note of detachment in PM Vladimir Putin's statement on the Vladikavkaz market attack:

"They have all they need OVER THERE..."?
These are the words of Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin from his dialog with Russia's deputy minister of health care and social development Belov during today's [government] meeting (broadcast on all TV channels today).

A question: Mr. Putin doesn't consider North Ossetia part of the Russian Federation anymore?!

And this person wants to be the national leader?! [...]

Vladikavkaz-based LJ user alan_tskhurbaev wrote this, among other things, in a comment to LJ user gagloyev's post:

[...] All in all, why pick on their words when there are so many of their actions that we can be critical of [...].

LJ user firmozadasso commented (RUS) on the government's promise to pay 1 million rubles ($32,388) to the victims' families:

[...] Anyone needs a million in exchange for a family member's life?

One Radio Echo of Moscow commenter pointed out another financial aspect in the relations between North Caucasus and the rest of the Russian Federation, voicing his displeasure with the arrangement:

evgeniy_pak:

Does Russia need Caucasus at all?

Federal budget spending on the North Caucasus federal district - [annual] funding allotted per resident:

Kabardino-Balkariya - 12,000 rubles [$388]
Karachaevo-Cherkesiya - 13,000 rubles [$421]
Dagestan - 14,000 rubles [$453]
Ingushetia - 27,000 rubles [$874]
North Ossetia-Alania - 12,000 rubles [$388]
Stavropol region - 6,000 rubles [$194]
Chechnya - 48,000 rubles [$1,554]

Average spending on residents elsewhere in Russia - 6,000 rubles [$194]

There are good people living over there (and the majority doesn't even suspect how profitable this business - the Federation - is), but isn't it time to [stop it]? Is there no other way to spend billions?

LJ user chuchundrrra, in a comment to LJ user dondzendervish's post (RUS) on the alleged involvement of fighters from the neighboring Ingushetia in Thursday's bombing, explained the connection between federal budget spendings, corruption and terrorism:

After each terrorist attack, the money starts flowing - flowing where? To ensure security. Have you noticed strengthened security? I haven't. So where does the money go? Into somebody's pockets. And what has to be done to make sure that the money in the pocket is in good supply? Right, more money should be given for a new terrorist attack. [...]

The volatile Ossetian-Ingush relationship has been another recurring theme following the market blast. LJ user dondzendervish wrote this in the post linked to above:

Terrorists do have an ethnicity. They do have last names. A Volga [car] with the Ingush license plate. With the driver named Archiev, registered with Dobriev. Many people say that terrorists do not have an ethnicity, but why are they all from Ingushetia?!

It's time to set up a minefield, a tall electrified fence and watchtowers with machine gunners all along the perimeter [of the border] with Ingushetia. [...]

LJ user magas-dedyakov wrote (RUS):

[...] Close the border [with Ingushetia]. Completely. For five years, to begin with. Legalize border guarding by volunteers and [the Cossacks]. Allot salaries [to them].

Madina Sageeva wrote this (RUS) on the North Ossetian blogging portal region15.ru:

I know what has to be done to stop terror attacks in North Ossetia. Guests from Ingushetia have to be banned from entering the republic.

[...]

And if our neighbors start singing about their right to move freely around their beloved motherland - Russia - we can reply to them that the Ossetians have a right, too - the right to life.

[...]

[...] I'm not accusing all the Ingush people of [being involved in terrorism]. But, alas, the police officers at the checkpoint through which hundreds of Ingush are pushing their way into Vladikavkaz every day, cannot tell the terrorists just by looking at them. [...]

It would be good if the Ingush president came forward with such an initiative. [...]

LJ user kaloy (Kaloy Akhilgov, press secretary of Ingushetia's president Yunus-Bek Yevkurov) was planning to visit his grandfather's grave in the Ingush village of Dzheyrakh on the day of the bombing (which was also the first day of the Muslim holiday of Eid ul-Fitr) - and the best way to get there was by driving through Vladikavkaz. He wrote (RUS):

[...] The Ingush people are used by now that terrorist attacks in Vladikavkaz tend to turn into ordeals for them. Because any emergencies caused by explosions in Ossetia are tied to the Ingush, unfortunately. Perhaps, this happens subconsciously.

In any case, we decided not to drive through [Vladikavkaz]. Not because I'm afraid of the Ossetian cops [...]. But because I understand that one should not annoy the cops and the locals by having them see [Ingush license plates] [...].

We encounter [such violence] in our republic every day as well, and we understand perfectly well the pointlessness of [spilling innocent blood]. [...]

LJ user agunya - a Beslan survivor Agunda Vataeva, whose story was translated on GV on Sept. 4 - wrote (RUS):

A horrible provocation.

[...] I'm sick of seeing how we are being killed. I'm sick of being scared. I'm tired of calling all the relatives [...] with [a well-rehearsed speech]: "Are you ok? Is everything fine at home? No one is hurt?" No place to escape from this. Nowhere in the country.

[...]

I don't want to live in this country, in such a world. I hate the Ingush idiots who cheer other people's grief and are ready to dance on the bones and blood of the Ossetians [...]

[...]

My grandmother is Muslim, and I never say that all terrorists are Muslim, or that terror has an ethnicity. Terror has specific faces. And other people have to preserve human qualities, even if their enemies are being killed; they shouldn't cheer the deaths of innocent people. [...]

LJ user liza-valieva wrote this (RUS) in a follow-up post:

Because of the terrorist attack, all day today we've been getting calls, text messages and letters from friends in Moscow, Rostov, France, Italy, Slovakia, Turkey, Georgia and other places.

Friends, thank you for being there! Thank you for caring.

The things I've read today on the internet... Forums where Ingush were cheering the deaths of Ossetians [...], and Georgians were gloating along the lines "here you go, the Great Russia!", blogs where Russians were writing something like "Caucasus isn't Russia. The main thing is that this doesn't happen in the 'real' Russia, and who cares what's happening OVER THERE" [...].

After all this, it's hard not to get disappointed in people. That's why thanks again to those who care. It can happen to any of us. No one is safe.

Russia: Beslan School Siege Survivor's Account

Global Voices Online
Saturday, September 4, 2010



The first anniversary of the Beslan tragedy, 2005. Photo by Natasha Mozgovaya

Agunda Vataeva (LJ user agunya) was a 13-year-old girl about to begin her ninth-grade studies on Sept. 1, 2004, the day when she, her mother and more than 1,100 others were taken hostage at School #1 in the North Ossetian town of Beslan. She survived the three-day siege. Her mother, a teacher, didn't. Of the 334 hostages who lost their lives six years ago, 186 were children.

Agunda is a 19-year-old college student now. In the past three days, she has posted three installments of her recollections (RUS) of Sept. 1-3, 2004, on her LiveJournal and Radio Echo of Moscow blogs.

She writes this in the introduction to her first post:

While at the hospital, right after I got a notebook [computer], I began writing down what I remembered of those three days that I spent as a hostage. Six years later, I'd like to publish the notes I was writing then, [when the memories were still fresh]. [...]

On the Echo of Moscow blog, this Sept. 1 entry has been viewed 7,554 times and has generated 55 comments so far.

Agunda begins her account with the description of a festive yet ordinary morning, warm and very sunny, her walk to school with her mother, the final preparations for the welcoming of the new school year, and her casual chat with friends - which was suddenly interrupted by shooting:

[...] I turned around and saw three boys running towards the exit, and behind them a man in fatigues and with a thick black beard. He was running after the boys and shooting in the air. I thought: "Someone is making a bad joke, must be a prank or perhaps yet another drill." These thoughts vanished as soon as the shooting started from all sides and they started pushing us towards the boiler house. We were all huddled together. Trampled flowers, shoes and bags were strewn on the asphalt. [...]

Agunda and a couple of her close friends found themselves trapped in the school gym, together with hundreds of other hostages:

[...] People were panicking, we were hysterical. To quiet us down, They got one man up and threatened to kill him if we didn't fall silent. We were trying, but the fear and the panic prevailed. A gunshot was heard. They killed him... this is when the silence set in, dead silence, literally. Only the children's crying and screaming interrupted it. [...]

Soon enough Agunda's mother was allowed to join her daughter:

[...] We immediately started asking her what would happen, whether they would let us go or not. [...] Mama was talking very calmly, saying that everything would be fine, that we would be rescued. But as I looked at her, I knew that even Mama didn't know how it would all end, she was just calming us down, as her students, as kids. Kids - we were nothing but the scared kids then. [...] In a situation like that, even the most mature ADULTS were turning into cranky kids. [...]

Some more details from Day 1 of the siege:

[...] A gunman walked by, then stopped abruptly, [...] looked at Madina [Agunda's friend] and got very angry. He threw some jacket to her with these words: "Cover your shame!" She had bare knees, and, frightened, she covered herself right away. I felt a little bit better after this. "At least, they aren't going to rape us," I thought.

[...]

Time went by very slowly. It was hot, terribly hot. We took off all the clothes we could take off without looking indecent. There was little space, we sat on a bench. [...]

[...]

[...] It was around 8 PM when it started raining [...]. We sat by the broken windows and were catching raindrops with our mouths - this is how thirsty we were. Mama kept covering me and the girls with her jacket, but I kept getting out to get some rain. I felt so good - I think it's the best memory from that hell. [...]

Closer to lunchtime, by the way, They tried setting up a TV in the gym (to entertain the hostages with newscasts, obviously), but [it didn't work]. They told us that, according to the TV reports, there were 354 hostages. We felt [...] outraged. [...]

[...]

Throughout the night, we took turns sleeping in couples for an hour. While Madina and I sat on the bench, Mama and Zarina slept on the floor. An hour passed, and we'd switch. [...]

In the Sept. 2 entry (9,626 views, 92 comments on the Echo of Moscow blog), Agunda writes, among other things, about the hostage-takers' phone conversations, their demands (which included withdrawal of the Russian troops from the neighboring Chechnya and recognition of its independence), the visit of Ruslan Aushev, ex-president of the neighboring Ingushetia, and the resulting release of "11 nursing women and all 15 baby children" - an event that revived Agunda's hopes.

The account of Day 3 of the siege was the hardest for Agunda to write about - and is the hardest one to read:

[...] It was the day I remember best, and for too long these memories were causing me pain, keeping me from writing them down. [...]

As of now, this Sept. 3 entry has been viewed 16,185 times and has 178 comments on the Echo of Moscow blog (and these numbers continue to grow).

Agunda describes her own and other hostages' exhaustion, thirst and despair:

[...] All this time, Zarina's cousin, a first-grader, was with her, and she was very worried about him. On the third day, he was extremely weak and kept asking for water. Somewhere, she got some urine, in some broken cheap box, and she was giving it to him in small portions, wiping his and her own face with it. I couldn't overcome my squeamishness, or perhaps my thirst wasn't bad enough to drink this. [...]

Around 1 PM, Agunda writes, the hostage-takers announced that the Russian troops would withdraw from Chechnya and, if that information were true, they would start releasing the hostages soon:

[...] This was when I felt like crying for the first time in these three days, because there was some hope now that we would get out of there. And then... I just lost consciousness, and when I came to, the roof was burning over me, everything was falling, people were lying all around. The first thing I saw when I got up was a burning and burnt corpse of one of the terrorists, [...]. They started yelling that the ones who were alive should get up and get out of the gym into the hallway. I don't know why, but Mama and I got up and walked off. [...] By the door, I saw something that I still think about when I think about the terrorist act... I saw the body of a little, skinny girl, and when I looked above her neck, I realized that I just didn't see the upper part of her skull [...]. It was the most horrifying moment, and it was then, I guess, that I realized that this was all happening for real. [...]

The next few minutes brought another explosion, and more carnage and horror. Agunda was severely injured, but she was still capable of moving. Her mother wasn't:

[...] Mama was lying nearby. "My leg," she said. "Leave." I'll never be able to forgive myself for having obeyed her, for turning around and leaving. I don't know what it was. Where this betrayal came from.

I crawled to the broken window on all fours. There were some stoves by the window, and I reached the window sill. On one of these stoves lay two corpses of undressed, emaciated boys. They looked like brothers. Their eyes... [...]

I was one movement away from the street when my leg slipped into some hole. I could barely feel the leg at that point, couldn't find it, kept dragging it, but nothing came out of it. Our local militia and the soldiers were already waiting for me down below. They were yelling to me: "Come on, the golden one, come on, little sun!" But I couldn't. This feeling of weakness and hopelessness made me cry. For the first time in three days I was crying. But then I somehow pulled myself together and managed to free the leg. [...]

Agunda goes on writing about how she was taken to the hospital, how she learned about her mother's death. She writes about her friends and teachers who did not survive. She writes about living with the pain:

[...] People are still dying because of the consequences of the terrorist act. People are still reliving these events over and over again. I haven't told you even half of it, I guess. Memory is an amazing thing: one tries to forget everything that's bad, horrible, painful.

[...] I'm telling you my story. All that happened, happened in my dear school, with the people I love, and I think I have the right to tell you about my pain. What I used to call life back then was taken away from me. [...]

The people of Beslan are trying to let the truth be known. We aren't too good at it. The investigation has been going on for six years already, but it hasn't moved a bit. All the questions that we had then, remain today. [...]

Many bloggers have linked to and quoted from Agunda's posts in the past few days. Many people have written to let her know that they remember what happened six years ago and that they feel her pain and the pain of other survivors. According to some bloggers (RUS), however, neither President Dmitry Medvedev, nor PM Vladimir Putin, has issued any statements regarding the sixth anniversary of the Beslan tragedy. And on Sept. 1, one of Agunda's readers left this short comment (RUS) on her Echo of Moscow blog:

Will Putin's daughters read this?


The first anniversary of the Beslan tragedy, 2005. Photo by Natasha Mozgovaya

More of Natasha Mozgovaya's 2005 photos from Beslan are here; her Russian-language LJ blog is here.

Earlier GV posts on Beslan are here.