Quotes of the Day

On the occasion of the 80th anniversary of the Russian Supreme Court's establishment, President Vladimir Putin publicly praised Russia's judicial system and reminded his people that "Russia's relations with the world depend on the quality of the work of the courts." Putin believes in Russian Justice. Victims of the theater hostage crisis in Moscow last October don't. Former hostages who were held by Chechen terrorists at the Moscow Dubrovka Theater and families of those who died by a still unidentified gas used by Russian commandos to subdue the terrorists have filed 61 suits for damages. Tverskoi district court of Moscow dismissed the first three suits on the same day Putin spoke, thus sealing the fate of the other cases.

The court's decision means that many of the plaintiffs will be reduced from their middle class status to poverty through the loss of their health or the death of the family's main income provider. As I was listening to the heartbreaking pleadings in the courtroom, and watching tears of helpless rage and sorrow in the eyes of the plaintiffs, I could not help thinking about one dimension of the Dubrovka tragedy that still seems to escape most people's attention in this country.

"We're still trying to figure out how it could have happened, said Irina Khramtsova, whose father was killed in the gas attack. "I'm now scared of the subway, of public places: what if a bomb goes off, or someone shoves a gun barrel against my temple." "We never imagined it could happen to us," confessed Valentina Khramtsova, Irina's mother. "None of you thinks even now that we all live on a powder keg and can find ourselves in the same situation any minute."

These words, full of pain, are a clue to Russia's national disaster: for the last eight years, the overwhelming majority of Russians have not acknowledged that the same tragedy has been happening to the people of Chechnya; that for the last eight years bombs have been falling on their heads, killing their families indiscriminately, destroying their houses, reducing their lives to hopeless poverty; that a Chechen can find a gun barrel shoved against his or her temple any minute; that most Chechens still can't figure out how and why it all could have happened to them.

Back in 1996, I met an 18-year-old Chechen boy whose eyes were so full of pain and bewilderment that I can never forget them. He sat quietly, embracing his Kalashnikov rifle, and told me: "I've never imagined I'd end up here, with a gun. I wanted to study Islam. I wanted to court girls and have fun. But their planes bombed my house and killed all my family. These fighters here are the only family I now have left."

The overwhelming majority of Russians did not feel his pain. Even after the Chechen war hit Moscow in the despicable Dubrovka terrorist act, the overwhelming majority of Russians don't seem to feel the pain of the Dubrovka victims. Do we always have to wait until someone else's pain becomes our own to realize that we live on a powder keg? Shouldn't we try to end this nightmare of the Chechen war before it is too late?

Putin praises Russian justice and encourages a constitutional referendum to be held in Chechnya next March to create "legitimate bodies" and give people "the chance to take power into their own hands." This is meant to be a political solution to the Chechen war. But what can a referendum accomplish, if it is held under gun barrels, shoved to people's heads? Putin became President on the crest of the war in Chechnya; he won't be the one to end it. But even amidst all the cynicism and indifference that now grips Russia, its people must think of a way to defuse the powder keg they live on.

• YURI ZARAKHOVICH/Moscow
• The forgotten link between Chechen terrorism and the war in Chechnya