10 May 2004 01:49 Kadyrov`s death poses questions for the Kremlin: Chechens are unlikely to benefit from a new Moscow-installed regime, says Andrew Jack Akhmed Kadyrov, the gruff-talking, bearded presidentof Chechnya who died in a
bomb explosion yesterday, always had a quick response to those who attacked
his tough leadership style.
"My family lives here, my parents are here. If I terrorise peaceful
people, they will be against me," he recently told a group of
journalists visiting him in his heavily fortified headquarters in the
capital, Grozny.
His comments were a riposte to many of his political opponents who criticised
him from the relative safety of Moscow - or abroad - as well as to those
local people who accused him of co-ordinating a reign of terror within
Chechnya. The remarks proved highly prophetic.
His death leaves a power vacuum partly of his own making but which poses
awkward questions for the Kremlin and risks still worse repercussions for
ordinary Chechens trying to remake their lives amid misery.
Mr Kadyrov, a 52-year-old former mufti, or Islamic leader and rebel fighter,
who for so long appeared to be immune from frequent assassination attempts,
finally died at the heart of the conflict-torn republic that he had ruled for
four years. Beneath a facade of the "normalisation" process he
spearheaded, problems remained.
Originally named to the post by Vladimir Putin, the Russian president, in
summer 2000 as the first stage of full military conflict launched the
previous autumn came to an end, Mr Kadyrov was formally elected last October
in a campaign that was widely seen as manipulated.
Vote-rigging aside, his high level of support on paper also partly reflected
a frustration by local people with the alternating and coinciding periods of
anarchy and outright war in which they had lived for the previous decade, and
a lack of few rival candidates.
That, at least, seemed to be the view of Mr Putin, who dallied with different
politicians but appeared ultimately to judge that Mr Kadyrov was the best
available option in the circumstances - at least for his definition of a
political settlement that involved no negotiation with rebel leaders.
After training in Islamic religious schools authorised by the Soviet
authorities, which led many to suspect links to the KGB, the secret police,
Mr Kadyrov joined anti-Moscow rebel forces when Russian troops were first
sent to crack down on separatists in 1994.
Frustrated with the rebels and their embrace of hardline Islam, however, he
switched sides and was able to concentrate his economic and political power
under Mr Putin's tutelage. That was backed by a significant armed
militia of his own, headed by his son, Ramzan.
The result was a regime that was accused with growing regularity of being
responsible for "round-ups" and "disappearances" of
dozens of Chechens in recent months, backed up by attempts to build a central
Asian-style leadership personality cult, based more on fear and resignation
than positive feelings.
The attack on yesterday's Victory Day may seem like the ultimate
sacrilege, injuring many ordinary Chechen war veterans who had served in the
Soviet army. But Chechens hold mixed feelings towards any symbols of Russian
power.
But Mr Kadyrov's persistent style of centralised leadership, with his
own trusted people in all key positions, meant little power sharing. That
alienated much of Chechen society and leaves his administration in turmoil
today.
The election of a Chechen parliament had been delayed at least until October.
Now further postponements are likely, with discussion of direct presidential
rule from Moscow. Life in Chechnya under Mr Kadyrov was far from perfect. A
new regime installed by Moscow in his place, and particularly given the
circumstances of his death, is unlikely to offer much improvement - and could
be far worse.
[EUROPE] |