“Ukraine as a Frontier of Western Civilization.” A report by Prime Minister of the Chechen Republic of Ichkeria Akhmed Zakayev at the ABN Conference in Toronto

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Ladies and gentlemen!

Thank you for the opportunity to speak on this important and highly relevant topic.

When we speak about Ukraine today, we often call it the front line of European security. This is true. Ukraine is defending not only its cities, its borders, and its people. It is also defending the security architecture of Europe. However, I would like to offer a broader definition: today Ukraine is not only the front line of European security — Ukraine has become the frontier of Western civilization itself.

By “Western civilization,” I mean a system of principles: national sovereignty, the rule of law, freedom of speech, human dignity, and the right of nations to decide their own future. These are exactly the principles that Russia is trying to destroy. The war against Ukraine is not simply a territorial conflict. It is not only a dispute over borders, and not merely a war between two states. It is a clash between two political ideas. On one side is the belief that every nation, regardless of its size, has the right to exist as a sovereign political community. On the other side is the imperial belief that great powers have the right to dominate their neighbors, erase their identity, choose their alliances, and decide their historical destiny. This is why Ukraine matters far beyond Ukraine itself.

Russia invaded Ukraine not because Ukraine posed a military threat to Moscow. Ukraine threatened the Russian imperial model simply by existing as an independent, democratic, and Europe-oriented state. For the Kremlin, a democratic Ukraine is dangerous not because it is hostile, but because it is an example. It shows that the post-Soviet space is not doomed to authoritarianism. It shows that societies once ruled from Moscow can choose a different path. This is the real threat that Ukraine represents to the Russian imperial system. That is why Moscow’s war is directed not only against Ukrainian territory — it is directed against Ukrainian statehood and political identity.

Ukraine was often described as a space “between” Russia and Europe. But this very language was part of the problem. Ukraine is not a geopolitical corridor, not a gray zone, and not a bargaining chip in someone else’s security agreement. Ukraine is a nation. Ukraine is a state. And it is precisely for this choice that Ukraine is paying the highest price today.

The Russian imperial model is based on a special understanding of power. In this model, power is not limited by law, society is subordinate to the state, and neighboring peoples are seen not as equal partners but as material for geopolitical expansion. Such a system cannot tolerate democratic institutions near its borders, especially when these institutions exist in a country that the empire still imagines as part of itself.

Wherever Russian power arrives, free elections disappear. Independent courts disappear. Free media disappear. Local self-government disappears. Civil society disappears. Academic freedom disappears. Language and culture become subject to imperial narratives. Therefore, by defending itself, Ukraine is defending far more than territory. It is defending the principle that institutions are more important than force, that law is more important than violence, and that the citizen is more important than empire.

The question today is not only whether Ukraine can survive. The question is whether democratic states are capable of defending the principles on which their own legitimacy is built. If borders can be changed by force, if nuclear blackmail can paralyze political will, if a large authoritarian state can destroy a neighboring democracy, then this crisis is not only Ukrainian — it is a crisis of the entire international order.

For decades, the West spoke about democracy, sovereignty, human rights, and the rule of law. And here I would like to return to the events of the 1990s. At that time, the Chechens accepted all these declarations as sincere and, in accordance with the basic principles and norms of international law, restored their statehood. However, when Russia carried out military aggression against the young independent state, Western countries in practice sided with the aggressor.

The First Russian-Chechen War was compared by international military experts to the Second World War because of its destruction and brutality. After a short break, the Second Russian-Chechen War began, and its consequences continue to this day.

As a result of these two wars, according to official data from the occupation administration, more than 300,000 people in Chechnya were killed, including around 42,000 children between the ages of one and twelve. Today, the entire Chechen people live under a brutal occupation regime led by a Chechen quisling.

Chechens, like Ukrainians, ask a very simple question: were all those declarations by Western politicians about the inviolability of borders and the right of nations to self-determination real values, or were they merely political slogans of the Cold War period?

Today, Ukraine is forcing the democratic world to answer this question not with speeches, but with policy. This is why support for Ukraine should not be seen as charity. It is a form of strategic self-defense. Canada, the United States, the European Union, and other democratic states support Ukraine not only because Ukraine became the victim of aggression. They support Ukraine because the future security of the democratic world is being decided there.

The cost of supporting Ukraine is high. But the cost of Ukraine’s defeat would be far higher.

The defeat of Ukraine would not bring stability. It would create a more dangerous Europe, a weakened NATO, a discredited European Union, stronger authoritarian regimes, and a clear message to every revisionist power in the world: aggression works. By contrast, a successful Ukraine would send the opposite message: imperial war can be resisted, democratic societies can survive, and a post-imperial future is possible.

This point is especially important in the broader context of our discussion about the regional and global consequences of Russian imperial decline.

The weakening of Russia does not automatically mean the arrival of peace. We must not be naive here. Empires in decline often become even more aggressive. They try to compensate for internal decay with external violence. They turn demographic crisis, economic stagnation, and political fear into militarized nationalism. Therefore, Russia’s internal instability may transform into dangerous external behavior.

We already see this logic: the militarization of society, the suppression of dissent, forced mobilization, imperial propaganda, nuclear threats, and the use of instability as a weapon. A state that cannot offer its citizens a positive future instead offers them imperial revenge. An empire in decline does not become harmless — on the contrary, it can become extremely dangerous, especially when it still possesses military power, nuclear weapons, intelligence networks, and propaganda tools.

Therefore, the West needs a strategy that is both firm and wise.

Democratic states must stop viewing Russian imperialism as a temporary deviation or simply as Putin’s personal project. Of course, leadership matters. But the problem is much deeper than one individual. It is historical, ideological, and imperial in nature.

The West must abandon the illusion that stability can be bought at the cost of the sovereignty of nations located next to Russia. This logic has failed many times. Every concession made at the expense of Chechnya, Ukraine, Georgia, Moldova, and other vulnerable states did not satisfy imperial ambition — it only encouraged it.

Canada, the United States, and the European Union must see Ukraine not as a peripheral issue, but as a central pillar of democratic security. Military aid, economic support, sanctions, reconstruction planning, and legal accountability are all strategic responses to the imperial challenge.

Democratic states must listen more carefully to peoples who have direct historical experience with Russian imperial rule: Ukrainians, Poles, Georgians, Crimean Tatars, Chechens, and others. These societies often understood the nature of the threat earlier than many Western capitals. Their historical memory is not emotional exaggeration — it is a form of political knowledge.

This also raises the question of Russian opposition figures living in exile. Dialogue with them may be useful. It is important to speak with people who oppose the regime. However, policymakers should be careful not to confuse opposition to Putin with a full rejection of imperial thinking. Not every anti-Putin voice is necessarily post-imperial. Some may oppose the current regime while still keeping colonial views about Ukraine, the Caucasus, Central Asia, and other peoples once dominated by Moscow.

Therefore, the main question should not only be: “Are you against Putin?” The deeper question should be: “Do you recognize the full sovereignty, political subjecthood, and historical dignity of the peoples once ruled by Russia?” Without such recognition, there can be no genuine post-imperial future.

Thus, Ukraine’s struggle is also a struggle for a new political language. It forces us to move beyond old categories such as “spheres of influence,” “great power compromise,” and “buffer zones.” These categories are not neutral. Very often they reproduce imperial thinking under the language of political realism. True realism today requires recognizing that the imperial idea itself creates war.

Security in Europe will not be restored by giving Russia veto power over the freedom of its neighbors. It will only be restored when the imperial principle itself is defeated — politically, militarily, intellectually, and morally.

Ukraine stands at the center of this process. Ukraine has shown that democratic identity is not weakness. It has shown that civic patriotism can be stronger than imperial nationalism. It has shown that institutions, even under attack, can mobilize society. It has shown that freedom is not an abstract value but a living political force.

In this sense, Ukraine has reminded the West of something the West itself had begun to forget: democracy is not only procedure. It is not only elections, bureaucracy, or legal norms. Democracy is also a civilization of responsibility. It requires citizens willing to defend institutions. It requires states willing to defend principles. It requires alliances capable of understanding that peace without justice is only a pause before the next aggression.

That is why the Ukrainian lesson is not only military. It is civilizational.

Ukraine teaches us that freedom survives only when it is defended. Sovereignty survives only when it is respected. Institutions survive only when people are willing to protect them. And democratic civilization survives only when it understands the nature of those who seek to destroy it.

Allow me to end with the following thought.

Ukraine defends the West not because it is a passive outpost of Western power. Ukraine defends the West because Ukrainians chose the political principles that define the West at its best. They defend the idea that free nations have the right to exist. They defend the idea that democracy is not a privilege reserved for old and wealthy states. They defend the idea that empire has no moral right to decide the fate of other peoples.

That is why Ukraine is not only the front line of European security. Ukraine is the frontier between law and force, between citizenship and empire, between democratic institutions and imperial domination.

And if the democratic world clearly understands this, support for Ukraine will no longer be seen as a burden. It will be understood for what it truly is: the defense of the political meaning of Western civilization itself.

Thank you for your attention.

Fuggiasco, monaco, profeta guerriero: la vita di Giovanni Battista Boetti

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Esistono uomini che attraversano la storia lasciando dietro di sé ritratti, trattati e monumenti. E poi esistono uomini che lasciano soltanto domande. Giovanni Battista Boetti apparteneva alla seconda categoria.

Quando nacque, il 2 giugno 1743, nel piccolo villaggio piemontese di Piazzano, nessuno avrebbe potuto immaginare che quel bambino sarebbe diventato il protagonista di una delle vicende più enigmatiche del Settecento europeo. Figlio di una famiglia nobile in declino, educato per diventare medico contro la propria volontà, fuggiasco, soldato, seduttore, monaco domenicano, missionario in Oriente, medico di pascià e principi, Boetti attraversò mezzo mondo inseguendo qualcosa che forse neppure lui sapeva definire.

Per oltre vent’anni viaggiò tra l’Italia, i Balcani, l’Impero Ottomano, la Siria, la Mesopotamia, la Persia e il Caucaso. Comparve nei luoghi più improbabili e ne scomparve con la stessa rapidità. Venne arrestato, espulso, accolto come un santo, accusato come un impostore, ricercato come una spia e protetto da uomini potenti. Ogni volta che la sua storia sembra terminare, ricomincia altrove.

Poi, improvvisamente, accade qualcosa.

Le fonti raccontano che dopo anni trascorsi tra Mosul, Costantinopoli e la Persia, il domenicano piemontese svanì quasi completamente dalle cronache ufficiali. Quando riemerse, non era più soltanto Giovanni Battista Boetti.

Era Mansur, Il Vittorioso.

Secondo una straordinaria relazione manoscritta conservata per oltre un secolo negli archivi del Regno di Sardegna, l’ex monaco avrebbe predicato una nuova fede, raccolto migliaia di seguaci e guidato un esercito attraverso il Kurdistan, la Georgia e le montagne del Caucaso. Le sue armate avrebbero sconfitto eserciti, assediato città e conquistato intere regioni. Le sue prediche avrebbero attirato musulmani, cristiani ed ebrei. Le sue ambizioni avrebbero sfidato principi, pascià e sultani.

Sembra la trama di un romanzo d’avventura, eppure Giovanni Battista Boetti è realmente esistito. La sua firma compare in documenti autentici. Le sue lettere sono sopravvissute al tempo. I suoi spostamenti possono essere ricostruiti attraverso archivi sparsi tra Italia e Medio Oriente. Alcuni episodi della sua vita sono confermati oltre ogni ragionevole dubbio. Altri appartengono al territorio incerto in cui storia e leggenda si confondono.

È proprio lì che inizia il mistero.

Alla fine del XVIII secolo, mentre nel Caucaso settentrionale infuriava la resistenza contro l’espansione dell’Impero Russo, comparve un altro uomo destinato a entrare nella leggenda: Sheikh Mansur Ushurma, il primo grande leader della lotta caucasica contro la Russia.

Con il passare degli anni, le storie dei due uomini iniziarono ad avvicinarsi, prima come semplice diceria, poi come ipotesi, infine come una vera e propria teoria storica.

Possibile che il profeta guerriero del Caucaso e il monaco piemontese fossero la stessa persona?

Possibile che uno dei più celebri eroi della storia cecena fosse nato tra le colline del Monferrato?

Da oltre due secoli storici, scrittori e ricercatori cercano una risposta: alcuni sono convinti che si tratti della stessa persona, altri ritengono che sia soltanto una straordinaria mistificazione.

Seguiremo le tracce lasciate da Giovanni Battista Boetti, dalle campagne piemontesi alle carovane della Siria, dai conventi domenicani alle corti dei pascià, dalle rive del Bosforo alle montagne del Caucaso. Perché, vera o falsa che sia la leggenda di Mansur, una cosa è certa: la vita di Giovanni Battista Boetti fu già di per sé talmente incredibile da sembrare impossibile.

“We Are Trying to Tell the World the Truth About Chechnya”

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An Interview with Karl Foverskov and the Danish Support Committee for Chechnya

Introduction

This interview was conducted during one of the darkest periods of the Second Russo-Chechen War, when the Russian Federation was carrying out a large-scale military campaign in the Chechen Republic of Ichkeria. At the time, independent journalists and international observers faced increasing difficulties in accessing the region, while reports of widespread human rights violations, indiscriminate bombardments, enforced disappearances, and civilian casualties continued to emerge from the war-torn republic.

Among those seeking to draw international attention to the conflict was the Danish Support Committee for Chechnya, an organization established by Danish academics, journalists, politicians, and human rights advocates. The committee played an important role in informing the Danish public about developments in Chechnya and supporting efforts to document violations of international humanitarian law.

One of its leading members was historian Karl (Carl E.) Foverskov, a specialist in Soviet and Eastern European history. Having followed developments in the Caucasus since the collapse of the Soviet Union, Foverskov visited the Chechen Republic of Ichkeria in 1997, shortly after the First Russo-Chechen War. Together with his wife, Lis Foverskov, he documented the destruction caused by the conflict and collected testimonies from local residents. Upon returning to Denmark, he dedicated himself to raising awareness about the plight of the Chechen people.

The following interview was conducted with Karl and Lis Foverskov with the assistance of Usman Firzauli, Representative of the Chechen Republic of Ichkeria in Denmark.

Interview

Correspondent: What impression did your visit to Chechnya leave on you at the time?

K. Foverskov: Lis and I were shocked by the scale of the destruction. But we were even more shocked and outraged by the fact that it was primarily theatres, schools, and universities that had been destroyed. We did not see destroyed military installations. What stood before our eyes was a city reduced to ruins.

Despite the post-war period, during which the media constantly spoke about kidnappings and similar issues, my wife and I encountered wonderful, friendly, and hopeful people. We lived with an ordinary Chechen family. The warmth of Chechen hospitality is unforgettable.

Correspondent: There is much discussion about your Committee. Russian media have already begun publishing material intended to discredit it.

K. Foverskov: That is understandable. We tell the truth; we do not promote any ideology. Our chairman, Thomas Bindesbøll Larsen, a highly educated historian, is the organizer of our committee. Even before the war in Chechnya, he was concerned about human rights violations wherever they occurred in the world. Today, he devotes great effort to documenting events objectively and informing the public about the real situation in Chechnya.

Correspondent: Who are the members of your Committee?

K. Foverskov: Our Committee includes prominent political figures, scientists, and journalists.

Correspondent: More specifically, what does your Committee do?

K. Foverskov: Our goal is to ensure that people in our country know the truth about what is happening in Ichkeria. To achieve this, we seek reliable information from Chechnya concerning human rights violations. This information is then disseminated through local media. Usman Firzauli, Representative of the Chechen Republic of Ichkeria, also assists us in this work.

Our Committee organized and carried out a protest outside the Russian Embassy, which provoked a negative reaction from Russian officials.

Correspondent: Russia is attempting to convince the international community that it is conducting what it describes as an anti-terrorist operation, a struggle against Islamic extremism. You have been to Chechnya. Did you see any Islamic extremists there?

K. Foverskov: I observed a greater presence of Islamism in Tatarstan than in Chechnya. We are trying to explain to our fellow citizens that Russia, in order to justify the crimes it is committing in Chechnya, is deliberately promoting the public stereotype of Chechens as bandits and extremists.

At our request, the Danish Parliament examined the issue of the genocide of the Chechen people and recommended that the Danish Government bring a case against Russia before the International Court of Justice for crimes committed against the Chechen people.

Starye Atagi, December 2001: When “Normalization” Meant Fear and Disappearances

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An examination of eyewitness testimonies from one of the darkest periods of the Second Russo-Chechen War.

A Village Under Occupation

At the end of 2001, Russian authorities repeatedly claimed that the situation in Chechnya was improving. Official statements spoke of “stabilization,” “normalization,” and the restoration of constitutional order throughout the republic.

For many residents of the Chechen Republic of Ichkeria, however, reality looked very different. One of the most revealing accounts from this period comes from the village of Starye Atagi, southwest of Grozny. Between late December 2001 and early January 2002, local residents described a climate of fear marked by military raids, arbitrary detentions, extortion, disappearances, and constant harassment by Russian federal forces. Their testimonies provide a rare glimpse into everyday life during one of the most difficult phases of the war.

A Village Already Scarred by War

By the end of 2001, Starye Atagi had already endured years of military operations. Since the beginning of the Second Russo-Chechen War, the village had repeatedly been subjected to raids, searches, and so-called “counter-terrorist operations” conducted by Russian forces.

Residents had previously appealed to international organizations, describing a pattern of punitive sweeps that had affected dozens of local families. Many villagers reported losing relatives during these operations, while others continued searching for family members who had disappeared after being detained by Russian troops.

Far from experiencing the promised normalization, the population found itself living under a permanent state of uncertainty.

The December Raids

According to testimonies collected at the time, between 26 and 30 December 2001 Russian troops carried out a series of operations in the village. Residents alleged that soldiers entered homes, conducted arbitrary document inspections, demanded money from civilians, and confiscated property under various pretexts. Witnesses described scenes of intimidation and humiliation affecting numerous families throughout the village.

Among the incidents reported was the case of a young mother who was allegedly forced to hand over money after soldiers questioned her personal documents and family status. While individual details remain difficult to verify more than two decades later, the broader pattern described by witnesses corresponds closely to practices documented elsewhere in Chechnya during the same period.

Arbitrary Detentions and Ransom Payments

The most serious allegations concerned the detention of dozens of local residents. According to villagers, Russian forces detained more than forty men during the operation, including elderly civilians and members of several well-known local families. Detainees were reportedly accused of assisting the fighters of the Chechen Republic of Ichkeria, although no formal charges were presented.

Witnesses claimed that many of those arrested were subjected to beatings and ill-treatment before being released. Families reportedly secured the release of relatives only after paying sums ranging from 2,000 to 5,000 rubles. Such allegations were not unusual during this stage of the conflict. Throughout the early 2000s, numerous human-rights organizations documented cases in which detainees were released only after relatives paid money to members of military or security structures.

For civilians living in villages such as Starye Atagi, the greatest burden was often uncertainty. Men of military age lived with the constant risk of detention. Families feared nighttime raids. Mothers worried that sons, husbands, or fathers could disappear without explanation and never return. The absence of legal safeguards meant that ordinary civilians often had no effective mechanism through which to challenge abuses or seek information about detained relatives. As a result, fear became a permanent feature of daily life.

February 2000 – Russian soldiers inspect Chechen men standing along a wall in the prison of the Chechen village of Chernokozovo. 

A Pattern Seen Across the Chechen Republic of Ichkeria

The events reported in Starye Atagi were not isolated. Throughout the Second Russo-Chechen War, villages and towns across the Chechen Republic of Ichkeria experienced similar operations. International human-rights organizations repeatedly documented allegations of enforced disappearances, arbitrary detention, torture, extrajudicial executions, and collective punishment carried out during security sweeps.

Russian authorities maintained that these operations were necessary to combat the armed forces of the Chechen Republic of Ichkeria and their supporters. Human-rights advocates, however, consistently argued that civilians were frequently subjected to abuses that violated both Russian law and international humanitarian norms.

The experiences of Starye Atagi therefore form part of a much broader historical pattern that affected thousands of Chechen families during the conflict.

Preserving Historical Memory

More than twenty years later, testimonies from villages such as Starye Atagi remain an essential part of the historical record. They preserve voices that were rarely heard beyond the borders of Chechnya and document the experiences of civilians caught between the struggle for the independence of the Chechen Republic of Ichkeria and the overwhelming military power of the Russian Federation.

Whether examined by historians, researchers, journalists, or future generations, these accounts serve as a reminder that behind official statements and military reports stood real communities struggling to survive under extraordinary circumstances. Remembering their stories is not only a matter of historical accuracy.

It is also a matter of justice.

This article is based on testimonies published in January 2002 and on the broader body of documentation concerning human-rights violations committed during the Second Russo-Chechen War.

Olivier Dupuis and Chechnya: the European voice that refused to bow to Moscow

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On May 4, Olivier Dupuis, former Radical Member of the European Parliament, passed away. An atypical and often isolated figure in the European political landscape, his death has largely gone unnoticed in public debate. Yet for those who have followed the history of Chechnya, it marks the loss of one of the very few European voices who, in the most difficult years, maintained a coherent, lucid, and countercurrent position.

Dupuis was not merely a parliamentarian. He was, in the fullest sense of the word, an activist for the rights of peoples.

A Radical consistency

A member of the Partito Radicale, close to figures such as Marco Pannella and Emma Bonino, Dupuis belonged to a very specific political tradition: that of nonviolent struggles, self-determination of peoples, and the defense of human rights even when it meant political isolation.

Chechnya, in this path, was not an exception. It was a consequence.

Portrait of Olivier DUPUIS MEP

Chechnya in its darkest hour

During the Second Chechen War, while much of Europe chose diplomatic caution or silence, Dupuis took a clear stance.

He openly denounced Russian military operations, the systematic human rights violations and the destruction of Grozny, and entire civilian communities

At a time when the dominant narrative tended to reduce the conflict to an internal Russian matter or a mere fight against terrorism, Dupuis insisted on a fundamental point: Chechnya was прежде всего an international political issue.

Support for the leadership of Ichkeria

One of the most significant aspects of his engagement was his relationship with the leadership of the Chechen Republic of Ichkeria, particularly Aslan Maskhadov.

Dupuis supported: the recognition of Maskhadov as a legitimate interlocutor, the opening of political negotiations and a clear distinction between the independence leadership and extremist drifts within the conflict

This position, already uncomfortable in the late 1990s, became openly countercurrent after the shift in the international context.

After 9/11: against simplification

After the September 11 attacks, the war in Chechnya was progressively absorbed into the global “war on terror” narrative.

Russia used this shift to legitimize its military actions. Most European capitals aligned with this perspective.

Dupuis did not.

He continued to distinguish between jihadist terrorism, real but limited, and the Chechen independence struggle, which he considered politically legitimate

This distinction, which today may seem self-evident to many analysts, was far from obvious at the time—and came at a political cost.

An isolated voice

Perhaps the most defining trait of his action was precisely his isolation.

Dupuis did not represent a majority line. On the contrary, the European Union avoided confrontation with Moscow, governments prioritized stability and economic relations, while the Chechen issue was gradually marginalized

In this context, his position was never opportunistic. It was a position of principle.

And for this very reason, it carries particular historical value today.

A bridge between Europe and Chechnya

For the Chechen cause, Dupuis was more than just a supporter.

He was:

  • a point of contact with European institutions
  • a voice capable of translating the Chechen issue into the language of international rights
  • one of the few European politicians who refused to reduce the conflict to terrorism

At a time when Ichkeria was being erased from public discourse, Dupuis helped preserve its political dimension.

Legacy

Today, many of his insights appear clearer:

  • the instrumentalization of terrorism by states
  • Europe’s difficulty in confronting Russia
  • the marginalization of self-determination struggles when they become inconvenient

Dupuis saw all this in advance.

And he consciously chose not to conform.

The tightrope walker

To remember him today are also the words of his wife—simple and powerful—perhaps capturing better than any political analysis the essence of who he was:

Chers si chers amis
Chères
Si Chères amies

Notre Olivier
S’en est allé
Très apaisé

Notre Olivier
S’est envolé
Le cœur léger

Le Funambule
Cheveux au vent
Danse
Sur
Son
Fil…

The tightrope walker.

It is a striking image, because it precisely captures what Dupuis was: a man in balance, suspended between principles and realpolitik, between political solitude and fidelity to his ideals.

In a Europe that, then as now, often chooses the comfort of silence, Olivier Dupuis chose to remain on the wire.

And never to step down.

My fate is the fate of my people – Interview with Magomed Mamatiev

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(Golos Chechenskoy Respubliki newspaper, No. 3 (20995), January 24–31, 1997)

Today we present to our readers a conversation with the hero of many articles published in our newspaper in the 1960s and 1970s, civil engineer Magomed Mamatiev, a candidate for deputy to the Parliament of the Chechen Republic in Electoral District No. 3 “Olympic” of the Leninsky District of Grozny.


Correspondent: Magomed, tell us briefly about yourself.

Magomed Mamatiev: I am 55 years old, I come from the village of Valerik, I have a higher education—a degree in construction from the Oil Institute—and I worked my way up from bricklayer to head of the construction department. I am currently vice president of the Federation of Trade Unions of the Chechen Republic. I have been awarded the Order of the Red Banner of Labor and two medals.


Correspondent: You belong to the generation that lived through the tragedy of 1944; did you perhaps think that all our problems were behind us?


Magomed Mamatiev: Our family ended up in the coldest region of Kazakhstan, the Kustanai region. My father was arrested in 1949 along with a learned alim for singing nazmy, and later my mother as well for cutting down three trees when the barn roof collapsed. The five of us children—the oldest was 14 and the youngest a newborn—were left on our own. We were saved from hunger and cold by the kindness of people, both Chechens and Russians.
In September 1959, I enrolled at the Grozny Oil Institute. Studying was easy. For today’s youth, most of whom pretend to study, I want to say that we didn’t know what it meant to pay money for a test or an exam. And we didn’t even have any money. Sometimes we went without food for days. We unloaded carts full of potatoes, onions, and coal at night. We constantly felt the teachers’ distrust of our knowledge. They graded our knowledge one point lower than students of other nationalities. We had to prove our worth through our diligence and hard work.
Like all my peers, my childhood was stolen from me, and we were left with a hungry and difficult youth.
After graduating from high school, I had to spend three months knocking on the doors of construction companies that, according to the ads, were looking for skilled workers. They asked me to fill out application forms and then politely turned me down. After three months, I met the kindest person, my new mentor Baskhanov Umar (Dala gechdoyla tsunna), who
hired me as a foreman and started my new working life.

Correspondent: In almost every country, trade unions are called upon to protect the interests of workers. Naturally, friction arises between them and the authorities on many issues. You and your colleagues led the union leadership in 1992. How did your relations with those in power develop?

Magomed Mamatiev: Numerous measures were adopted and efforts were made to foster cooperation between enterprises and all branches of the Republic’s government. However, none of the issues raised during meetings and by union activists were resolved. Wage arrears increased; pensions, salaries, and other benefits were not paid.

Correspondent: In the spring of 1993, a demonstration organized by the unions began in Grozny. Many are inclined to believe that this demonstration—that is, you and your comrades—is responsible for the subsequent negative events of 1993. What can you say to your opponents?

Magomed Mamatiev: Before the demonstration, the unions called a three-day strike demanding the cancellation of arrears on wages, pensions, and other social benefits, and warned the government that if these issues were not resolved, they would organize a demonstration. No response. We tried to meet with the President, but it didn’t work out. After receiving authorization for the demonstration from the mayor’s office, we organized a one-day protest and concluded the union demonstration at the scheduled time. Subsequently, the demonstration was led by local and municipal officials.
As you say, some politicians blamed union leaders for the subsequent clashes with their former associates. And our president and colleague Ampukaev Ramzan, declared an enemy by these “some,” organized massive rallies and protest marches against the entry of Russian troops into the Polish cities of Warsaw and Krakow.
And no one speaks of the military action in late December 1993, when the Presidential Palace was surrounded by tanks, armored vehicles, and troops.

Correspondent: Who do you believe is responsible for the national tragedies?

Magomed Mamatiev: There are many. Briefly, here are a few. Foremost among those responsible for our tragedy are the gray-bearded “Hajji pilgrims,” whom our President called sailors. These people did everything possible and impossible to divide our society into teips, virds, and nationalities. Having imagined themselves to be leaders of the people, they eventually began to interfere in state affairs. Some of the current candidates for the presidency have supported these pilgrims.
Usman Imaev did everything to exacerbate the confrontation between the President and Parliament; the main fault of this “man” is the complete destruction of the foundations of the Chechen state: its finances. After Russia abolished the 1991–1992 banknotes effective August 25, 1993, Imaev decided to keep this currency in circulation in the Republic until November 1, and for this worthless paper, the sale of everything that had not yet been sold began. This worthless paper was purchased in neighboring regions and republics at 102% of face value and delivered to Imaev’s bank for 30% of the cost. The remaining 70% of the cost was covered by Imaev and others like him.
According to some sources, loans totaling over 800 billion rubles were disbursed in the Republic starting in November 1993. And this is precisely where Imaev’s scheme was developed. Using forged documents from guarantor companies—whose executives received 5–10% of the loan amount—the lender paid Imaev 20% in dollars, and the National Bank transferred the loan amount to one of the commercial banks. These banks, in turn, transferred this sum to any address in the former Soviet Union for 15–20% of the loan amount.
And it is no coincidence that the National Bank and other banks were the first to be destroyed during the war. According to eyewitnesses, all the streets and squares of destroyed Grozny were littered with Imaev’s scrap paper.
In the same camp are Taymaz Abubakarov, Yeraghi Mamodayev with his team, the Albakovs, and, of course, Zavgaev’s team.
Here lies a vast field of activity for the Sharia court.

Correspondent: 16 presidential candidates. Isn’t that too many for our small republic? And in general, who do you prefer? I can’t insist on an answer to the last question…

Magomed Mamatiev: Whether many or not so many. After all, there are only five main contenders. I would vote for any of them if they were the only candidate.
But I see Aslan Maskhadov as the President of the Republic. I don’t know him personally, but I know Vakha Arsanov. Due to my professional responsibilities, I had to attend parliamentary sessions and learn the positions of all the deputies on issues related to building an independent state. I got the impression that Vakha was an honest and decent person who cares deeply about our future.
I am certain that Arsanov would never have agreed to run in the elections alongside Maskhadov if he had doubted his integrity and his intentions to build an independent Chechen state.

Correspondent: What motivated you to run in the parliamentary elections?

Magomed Mamatiev: The only thing that motivated me to run in the parliamentary elections was the hope that we would build a free and socially oriented state.
If I briefly discuss the program and the concrete legislative initiatives I intend to implement in the interest of the workers of the Chechen Republic, then, obviously, they will focus on the implementation of the principles of a social state.

Correspondent: And one last question. What is your vision for state-building and the role of trade unions?

Magomed Mamatiev: I intend to work on these priority issues if the voters of District No. 3 “Olympic” show their trust in me and elect me as their deputy to the Parliament of the Chechen Republic.
I appeal to voters to come out and vote for our future—not for me, but for our President Aslan Maskhadov. Together we will win!

Justice Denied – A Report from the North Caucaus

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The report “Justice Denied in the North Caucasus” represents one of the most comprehensive and well-documented analyses of the human rights situation in the North Caucasus region over the past decades.

Based on the work of the Natalia Estemirova Documentation Center (NEDC), the document collects and examines dozens of emblematic cases of killings, abductions, enforced disappearances, and torture that occurred in Chechnya, Ingushetia, and Dagestan from the 1990s up to recent years.


The picture that emerges is deeply alarming: not only because of the systematic nature of these violations, but above all due to the near-total absence of justice. Investigations are often incomplete, suspended, or never initiated. In numerous cases, even when the European Court of Human Rights has recognized violations and responsibility, Russian authorities have failed to implement its judgments, reinforcing a climate of structural impunity.


Particularly significant is the fact that many of the victims are journalists, human rights activists, and lawyers—key figures in any free and democratic society. Through both quantitative data and detailed case analysis, the report documents thousands of violations recorded between 2010 and 2018, confirming that the problem does not belong to the past, but continues to define the region’s present.


This document therefore stands as an essential resource for understanding not only the situation in the North Caucasus, but also the structural limits of the rule of law in the Russian Federation.

The reader can find the whole document in our Bibliography section.

Il Primo ministro ceceno in esilio Zakayev ha consegnato a Europa Radicale massima onorificenza alla memoria di Antonio Russo

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Zakayev: “quanto accade in Ucraina è ennesima tappa del colonialismo russo, iniziato negli anni ’90 da Eltsin. Putin deve essere giudicato all’Aja per i suoi crimini; non per vendetta ma per giustizia”.

Si è tenuto al “Polo del ‘900” di Torino il convegno “Dalla Cecenia all’Ucraina”, in cui è intervenuto anche il primo ministro in esilio della Repubblica cecena di Ickeria, Akhmed Zakayev, per la prima volta a Torino. Insieme a lui lo storico Francesco Benedetti e il giornalista Andrea Braschayko.

Nel suo intervento Zakayev ha ripercorso in modo analitico e preciso tutte le aggressioni militari compiute già negli anni ’90 del secolo scorso dalla Federazione Russa contro gli Stati vicini (Inguscezia, Azerbaigian, Moldova, Cecenia, Georgia); le guerre coloniali russe di Eltsin furono la riproposizione dell’imperialismo sovietico, senza alcuna soluzione di continuità. Putin ha preso il testimone da Eltsin e ha continuato l’opera: seconda guerra cecena, occupazione del 20% della Georgia, occupazione del 20% dell’Ucraina (senza dimenticare il fondamentale appoggio militare al regime siriano del criminale Assad).


Zakayev ha poi ribadito che la Corte Penale Internazionale dell’Aia deve processare Vladimir Putin per i suoi crimini, “non per vendetta ma per impedire a Putin di commettere altri crimini e per impedire ad altri di imitare Putin”. E a proposito di crimini russi, al termine del suo intervento, Zakayev ha consegnato nelle mani di Igor Boni (presidente di Europa Radicale) la piu’ alta onorificenza cecena, assegnata (alla memoria) ad Antonio Russo, giornalista di Radio Radicale, ucciso barbaramente in Georgia nel 2000 mentre stava documentando i crimini russi nella vicina Cecenia.

Igor Boni e Silvja Manzi hanno dichiarato:


“Dobbiamo ringraziare Akhmed Zakayev tre volte. La prima perché, dopo oltre trent’anni di lotta incessante per il diritto alla vita del suo Paese, non ha perso una briciola della sua intelligenza politica e della sua passione civile. La seconda per i riconoscimenti reiterati all’impegno dei radicali per la difesa dei valori di libertà e democrazia dalla minaccia putiniana.

Ma soprattutto ringraziamo Zakayev per non avere dimenticato Antonio Russo, “un radicale giornalista” (come lo definì Pannella). E questo proprio nel momento in cui Radio Radicale lotta per la propria sopravvivenza, che è la sopravvivenza di un enorme patrimonio di informazione e conoscenza. Consegneremo l’onorificenza alla direzione di Radio Radicale, per arricchire tale patrimonio”.

Salman Abuev – From Independence to Collaboration

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The story of Salman Abuev – a Chechen soldier and official – embodies the contradictions of Chechnya in the 1990s. A distinguished fighter in the First Chechen War, Abuev was honored as a national hero of the Chechen Republic of Ichkeria, only to be branded a traitor after joining the pro-Russian side. He became a key collaborator of Akhmat Kadyrov during the Second Chechen War, and was killed in an ambush in September 2001. Below is a biographical profile that traces his career, contextualizing it within the Chechen conflict and reporting the assessments of both sides.

Background and Education

Salman Abuev was likely born in 1962, originally from the village of Alleroy in the Kurchaloy district. We lack detailed information on his early education, but his figure emerged during the First Russo-Chechen War (1994-1996). Abuev immediately joined the pro-independence camp and fought in the Ichkerian Army, reaching the rank of colonel. He distinguished himself for his military merits during the conflict, earning the respect of the state’s leaders: at the end of the war, the new president, Aslan Maskhadov, promoted him to the rank of Brigadier General and awarded him the “Honor of the Nation” decoration, one of the ChRI’s highest decorations. This decoration—conferred personally by Maskhadov—attested to Abuev’s courage and dedication in the struggle for independence.

Aslan Maskhadov (right) and Alexander Lebed (left) at the sign of Khasavyurt Accords (30 August 1996)

With the peace that followed the Khasavürt Accords and the election of Maskhadov (1997), Abuev initially became involved in the power structures of the newly independent republic. For a short time, he served as chief of the Kurchaloy district police, his home region. Subsequently, in the spring of 1997, Maskhadov promoted him to a more senior role, appointing him head of the Department for the Protection of State Property, an office primarily responsible for combating oil theft and illegal refining, endemic scourges of the postwar Chechen economy. This position, also known by its Russian acronym DOGO, was particularly prestigious, as it placed Abuev in charge of protecting the entire national oil sector. In this capacity, he also commanded an armed unit tasked with guarding extraction facilities and suppressing illicit trafficking.

Military and Political Career

Despite his prominent role in post-war Ichkeria, Abuev clashed with some of Maskhadov’s leadership. In particular, according to Russian sources, he openly criticized Maskhadov for the growing tolerance of radical Islamist groups (the “Wahhabites”) in Chechnya in the late 1990s. These political frictions strained his relationship with the president. On April 5, 1999, Abuev was dismissed from his post as head of the State Property Department by Maskhadov, because he was deemed “incapable of putting an end to oil theft.” As a result, he was demoted to lower-level positions: Maskhadov transferred him to head a district police department (according to some sources in the Gudermes district, according to others back in Kurchaloy). During this period, operating in the field far from the capital, Abuev encountered the climate of growing instability and became better acquainted with Akhmat Kadyrov, then Mufti of Chechnya. In Gudermes, Kadyrov—despite being part of Maskhadov’s government—was taking increasingly critical stances and paving the way for a possible agreement with Moscow.

In August 1999, the situation escalated: the armed incursions of commanders Shamil Basayev and Emir Khattab into Dagestan drew a clear condemnation from Kadyrov. Kadyrov and Abuev, now allies, issued a political ultimatum to Maskhadov, declaring that they would cease supporting him unless he publicly condemned the actions of the guerrillas who had entered Dagestan. This was the breaking point: at the outbreak of the Second Russo-Chechen War (October 1999), Abuev made his final choice, siding with Akhmat Kadyrov on the Russian side.

Akhmat (left) and Ramzan (right) Kadyrov

In the fall of 1999, Abuev—now Brigadier General—and Sulim Yamadaev (another influential local commander) withdrew their units from Gudermes, allowing Russian troops to take control without a fight. This act amounted to a surrender of Chechen territory’s second largest city and was a key event: in response, President Maskhadov accused Kadyrov, Abuev, and the Yamadaev brothers of treason, while the Ichkeria Sharia Court sentenced them in absentia to death for high treason. Abuev switched sides in the conflict: he publicly repudiated Maskhadov in the very first days of the Russian operation and declared his support for Mufti Kadyrov, who would become the head of the pro-Russian interim administration in June 2000.

Within the nascent collaborationist government, Abuev soon became one of the few former high-ranking separatist commanders to switch sides. Moscow, however, did not place complete trust in these figures: in 2000, Abuev was even arrested by the federal military, perhaps on suspicion of double-dealing. Akhmat Kadyrov had to intervene at the highest levels—apparently with the direct support of the Kremlin—to secure his release. This demonstrates the ambiguity of Abuev’s position in those months: by now unwelcome to the separatists, he was not yet fully integrated into the new pro-Russian system. Kadyrov, however, considered him a highly valued collaborator and personal friend; he took him with him on sensitive political missions, such as a trip to Strasbourg to the Council of Europe, where Abuev and Kadyrov appeared side by side to denounce the Maskhadov government. Abuev also championed a conciliatory stance: he appeared on local TV urging Chechen guerrillas to lay down their arms and return to civilian life, following the Kremlin’s previously dictated strategy of thinning out separatist lines through calls for reconciliation and individual amnesties.

Sulim Yamadaev

Shift to the pro-Russian front

In the second half of 2000, with Russian control over lowland Chechnya consolidated, Kadyrov began appointing his own trusted personnel to local administrations. Salman Abuev, though disliked by his former comrades, had military experience and knowledge of the territory, as well as personal ties with Kadyrov. Kadyrov lobbied for a prominent role in the new apparatus: after much persuasion, in August 2001 he obtained Moscow’s approval to appoint Abuev as head of the Internal Affairs Department (OVD) for the Kurchaloy district. Paradoxically, Abuev found himself holding almost the same position he had held under Maskhadov (head of the district police), but this time within the pro-Russian administration.

According to local accounts, a dramatic event convinced Abuev to accept this assignment and become actively involved in the field: in August 2001, during a large-scale “zachistka” (anti-partisan roundup) operation conducted by federal forces in his home village of Alleroy, many civilians were subjected to abuse and violence. Shocked by what had happened to his community, Abuev decided to take over the leadership of the district police to protect the local population and restore a modicum of order. As a former commander known and feared in the area, he acted with a certain autonomy towards both Maskhadov’s men and the federal military, attempting to apply the law impartially. During the few weeks he was in charge in Kurchaloy, he took courageous initiatives: for example, he ordered the temporary detention facility (IVS) to be moved from the military komendatura base—where civilians were often mistreated—to a building under the civilian jurisdiction of his OVD, “as required by law.” He also insisted on dismantling a notorious military checkpoint between Kurchaloy and the nearby village of Mayrtup, notorious for extorting passersby. These moves earned him the favor of some residents, tired of the security forces’ excesses, but angered some elements of the federal apparatus, whose presence guaranteed Abuev a modicum of protection.

Shortly before his death, Abuev had a public clash with the local FSB chief: as witnesses in Alleroy reported, the Chechen general rebuked the FSB officer for his brutal methods against civilians and declared that he would not tolerate further abuse, threatening to turn directly to FSB director Nikolai Patrushev in Moscow if necessary. This episode highlights how Abuev was balancing two fronts: on the one hand, he sought to demonstrate loyalty to the Russians by ensuring order; on the other, he maintained a firm stance in defending the population, attracting enmity both among the separatist ranks and among some circles of the federal forces.

Kurchaloy District (in red)

Death

On the evening of September 20, 2001, about a month after taking office in Kurchaloy, Salman Abuev was ambushed. While driving home with his younger brother and several fellow police officers, his vehicle was attacked by a group of armed, masked men near the road between Kurchaloy and Mayrtup. The attackers opened fire at close range, riddling the car with bullets and killing Abuev instantly along with six people accompanying him. Among the victims were Salman’s brother, Ayub Abuev (18), and several officers originally from Alleroy (Sultan Temirbulatov, Sultan Usmanov, Yusup Darshaev), as well as two other local police officers. According to some reports, Abuev attempted to retaliate by firing several shots with his service pistol, possibly wounding one of the attackers, but was overwhelmed by the crossfire. A few minutes later, other OVD officers from Kurchaloy arrived, but they too were ambushed.

Abuev’s elimination was a severe blow to Akhmat Kadyrov: Salman was one of the very few former commanders of the ChRI army who had defected to his side. Kadyrov personally visited the village for the funeral, but the ceremony was marked by tensions – Russian soldiers at the Alleroy checkpoint blocked access to the funeral procession for a long time, leaving dozens of people who had come to pay their respects stranded. Abuev’s murder by the rebels was part of a spiral of targeted violence against pro-Moscow administration officials: just six days later, Kurchaloy’s deputy district commander, Sheikh Dugaev, was also assassinated, and in the following weeks, other local officials suffered the same fate. This campaign had a specific purpose: to intimidate and “morally” undermine Akhmat Kadyrov, systematically depriving him of his most valuable collaborators and discouraging any further defectors.

Historical Assessment

On the political and propaganda levels, Salman Abuev was viewed diametrically opposed by the two warring sides. For the Republic of Ichkeria, Abuev was now a renegade: the Maskhadov government formally removed him from all ranks and honors previously awarded to him, including revoking his title of “Honor of the Nation” and posthumously demoting him. As already mentioned, an Islamic court had sentenced him to death in 1999, and his killing was greeted by separatists as the execution of a traitor. On the pro-Russian side, however, Abuev was presented as an example of a Chechen patriot who had abandoned the extremist cause to embrace the path of peace under the Federation.

Ramzan Kadyrov on Abuev’s grave

Akhmat Kadyrov publicly mourned his passing, calling it a grave personal and political loss, and praised Abuev’s courage in fighting the “terrorists” to the point of ultimate sacrifice. Local government sources emphasized that Abuev had died “in the line of duty” while resisting an ambush by a numerically superior terrorist group. In subsequent years, Chechen officials remembered Abuev as a “hero,” and commemorations in his honor were held in Kurchaloy; Ramzan Kadyrov himself (Akhmat’s son) visited his grave.

Inal Sharip on Kyiv Post – “Kadyrov and Chechnya: Putin’s Black Swans”

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The opinion piece published by the Kyiv Post under the title “Kadyrov and Chechnya – Putin’s Black Swans” offers a critical reading of the growing vulnerability of Vladimir Putin’s regime in light of the “Kadyrov factor” and Russia’s internal political condition.

The author, Inal Sherip — a cultural studies scholar and political figure within the Chechen diaspora — argues that Ramzan Kadyrov should no longer be seen merely as a loyal ally of the Kremlin, but increasingly as a source of fragility for Putin’s system itself. The article opens by examining the recent “surprises” (so-called black swans) confronting Putin — diplomatic failures, international pressure, and military deadlock — and explains how, in this context, Kadyrov’s role has become increasingly problematic.

Inal Sharip, Foreign Minister of the Chechen Republic of Ichkeria

Sherip traces the evolution of the political project that, over the years, led to the construction of a personal power apparatus around Kadyrov — initially designed as a tool for Moscow’s control over the Caucasus — and shows how this same apparatus now risks turning into a “toxic asset.” The reasons are multiple: the growing cultural and religious autonomy of Chechnya’s leadership from Russia’s official narrative, its ties with Gulf states, and the ostentatious concentration of power and wealth.

At the core of the analysis lies the hypothesis that the potential disappearance or weakening of Kadyrov — whether due to health issues or internal conflict — could trigger a chain reaction capable of undermining Russia’s internal power balances themselves: from the redistribution of federal security forces, to an intense succession struggle within Kadyrov’s inner circle, to the opening of new spaces for intervention by Russia’s central security services, such as the FSB.

Ultimately, Sherip advances a non-conventional but compelling interpretation: Putin’s dependence on figures like Kadyrov is no longer merely a coercive advantage, but a potential breaking point for the stability of his own system of power — an internal “black swan” that could accelerate far broader dynamics of instability.

The full article is available at:

https://www.kyivpost.com/opinion/67997