“Dear Committee of Soldiers’ Mothers,” the letter begins. “I want to tell you my story.” From the Russian countryside near Lipetsk, a woman pleads for help for her soldier son. 18-year-old Andrei had already been taken prisoner once as he fought in the Russian army against Chechen separatists. Using money donated by her neighbors, the boy’s mother made the difficult and dangerous journey to the Chechen village of Shali, where she told her son’s Chechen captors, “I will not leave here, I will die here, better to kill me than to send me away without my son.” Eventually the Chechens agreed to free Andrei, on condition that his mother view the corpses of Russian soldiers littering Chechen soil. Back in Russia, Andrei was allowed a month’s psychological counseling and temporarily assigned to non-combat service. Now, the Russian military is ordering him back to Chechnya.
“I want to help these mothers so much, and I don’t even know how,” says Maria Kirbasova, 54-year-old chair of Russia’s Committee of Soldiers’ Mothers. “It torments me. I collect information, I shout about it, and nothing happens.”
Kirbasova is being modest. The Committee of Soldiers’ Mothers, which was recently nominated by a group of German parliamentarians for the Nobel Peace Prize, has a history of making things happen. Founded in 1985 during the heyday of perestroika, the Committee’s accomplishments range from winning health insurance for Russian soldiers to providing legal and medical advice to soldiers’ families. Staff members answer queries to the Committee’s telephone line from 9 a.m. until late at night. Draftees, soldiers, deserters, and their anxious mothers line up outside the Committee’s office in Moscow for advice and counseling. Every Monday evening, the Committee offers classes that teach mothers and soldiers about their rights.
In addition to services provided to soldiers and their families, the Committee also tries to influence Russian public opinion. Committee leaders maintain close contacts with journalists and Parliamentary deputies. Committee members also meet regularly with the army’s Chief Military Procurator, just to keep the lines of communication open.
The Committee, whose members are all unpaid women volunteers (most are themselves the mothers of soldiers), has taken the lead in protesting Russia’s military activities in Chechnya. In January 1995 Kirbasova and three other Committee leaders braved Russian rockets and sniper fire to visit the Chechen capital of Grozny in search of Russian soldiers. After negotiating with Chechen leader Dzhokhar Dudayev, the women emerged with a hundred freed Russian prisoners and a number of wounded soldiers.
Since the Chechen war began, some twelve hundred Russian women have journeyed to Chechnya in search of their sons.
“You must understand,” says Kirbasova, “Our sons were sent to this war and then there was nothing. No corpses, no graves, no list of casualties, no news. They just disappeared.”
In November 1995 the Committee opened a telephone hotline for those seeking news about casualties. Forty regional organizations affiliated with the Committee also collect material for a database stored in the Committee’s lone computer. Kirbasova hopes that an international tribunal will eventually be convened to investigate Russia’s activities in Chechnya.
Kirbasova, an ethnic Kalmyk who during childhood endured Stalin’s exile of her people to Siberia, doesn’t think very highly of the Russian government. “The current government doesn’t pay any attention to public opinion,” she says grimly. “It was better for us under Gorbachev.” She’s also disappointed with many of Russia’s newer non-governmental organizations, with whom the Committee of Soldiers’ Mothers planned a partnership in opposing the Chechen war. The partnership never got off the ground.
Despite setbacks, Kirbasova and her team of volunteers forge ahead. Plans for 1996 include further efforts opposing the Chechen war, as well as parliamentary campaigns to provide young men with alternatives to military service and to improve the rights of soldiers. Finally, Kirbasova, whose own son safely finished his military service several years ago, wants to trace all of Russia’s dead and missing sons. “It’s a colossal task,” she says, “But we can’t not do it.”
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