Alla Dudayeva: The Russian Empire is doomed. What happened to the family of General Dudayev Dzhokhar Dudayev’s daughter

We agreed that he would meet us at the airport, but there was no one in the greeting room. I go out into the street: Vilnius is covered either with fog or with a shroud of snow, and the square is deserted. Suddenly, right at the steps, a black Saab slows down. The Saab is not a Chechen people's car like a Porsche or Land Cruiser 200, but the driver's slim profile reveals a father figure, and I step down.

He gets out of the car - tall, thin, wearing a fitted gray coat, a black polo and black shoes polished to a shine (no pointy toes!). He greets politely and extends his hand in a European way. Yes, it is he, Degi Dudayev, the son of the first Chechen President Dzhokhar Dudayev, persona non grata in today's Chechnya, where even a conversation about him can cost a posthumous excursion to the Tsentoroevsky zoo. “I’m five centimeters taller than my father, but yes, I look a lot like him. Imagine what it’s like when everyone compares you to your father and measures you by your father,” he smiles, and behind this polite smile there is either bitterness or sarcasm.

Outside the window flashes a rather monotonous landscape of the outskirts of Vilnius - gray panel high-rise buildings, people dressed in dark clothes. Dudayev is 29 years old. Nine of them he lives here, in cloudy Lithuania, a transit zone through which thousands of Chechens fled to Europe during - and, most importantly, after - the war.

The editor of the site Ichkeria.info (added in 2011 to the Federal list of extremist materials and sites) Musa Taipov, one of the supporters of Chechen statehood, a politician in exile and a typical “white emigrant” of the new type, says that in France alone today there are more than 30 thousand Chechens - including himself. In the capital of Austria, Vienna, there are about 13 thousand.

"Authorities European countries they are trying not to advertise the number of Chechen refugees, but at one time I dealt with this issue and was in contact with the authorities, so I can say that today at least 200 thousand Chechens live in Europe.” The main countries are France, Austria, Belgium, Norway, Germany. The Chechens did not stay in the Baltic states, they moved on. But Dudayev the son did not go anywhere and remained here, at a crossroads.

They expected some actions from him in the style of his father, but so far they have not received anything - he did not show himself in Chechen politics, did not head any government in exile, nor a foundation named after his father, and all these three days I tried understand how the son of a man who in some way changed the course of life lives Russian history: two wars, the collapse of politicians and generals, possibly future military tribunals.

Dudayev drives the car confidently, with his seat belt fastened (in Chechnya, such law-abiding behavior is considered a sign of weakness). I ask if he is bored here, and in general - why Lithuania? Lithuania because, he replies, his father headed a heavy strategic bomber division in Estonia from 1987 to 1990 and just witnessed the birth of the political movement for the independence of the Baltic states. He also had a very good reputation here: he was given a division in Tartu in a deteriorating state, and in a couple of years he made it exemplary - in general, such an anti-crisis manager.

General Dudayev was close friends with both Estonian and Lithuanian politicians. He was “one of the three,” as he was called in the Lithuanian press, along with Gamsakhurdia and the Lithuanian Landsbergis. Dudayev’s ties with the Baltic states turned out to be strong: in Riga there is Dudayev Street, in Vilnius there is a square named after him, located with signature Baltic irony in such a way that it seems to precede the Russian Embassy in Lithuania if you enter it from the city center.

Having dropped our suitcase at the hotel, we go to lunch. In Christmas Lithuania it is 10-15 degrees below zero. Dudayev parks his Saab, and we go into a small restaurant in the Old Town, with green walls and black and white photographs reminiscent of a Parisian cafe. A tall waiter, a typical Lithuanian, lights a candle, and in the twilight of snowy Vilnius we talk in Russian about Chechnya and the war.

“We moved a lot during our father’s life - we lived in Siberia, Poltava, and Estonia, but if then there was a feeling that we were at home everywhere, now it’s the other way around: no father, no home, nowhere. I’m like an eternal wanderer and in fact I don’t really live anywhere: I go to my mother in Tbilisi, to my brother and sister in Sweden, I go skiing in Austria, and swimming in Greece. I could have moved anywhere for a long time - to Sweden, Holland, Germany. I lived in Paris for several months and tried it on for myself. No, it's not all mine. What keeps me here is that... - he pauses, choosing the right words. - Here I can still hear Russian. In Europe, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m at the end of the earth, that I’m getting further and further from my home. Panic begins: that I will never return. It’s because of the Russian language that I’m stuck here.” What does Russian speech mean to him anyway? “Only someone who has lost their homeland can understand this,” he sighs. - You will not understand. When you don’t hear your native language for a long time, it’s as if you’re hungry for it.” Where is it then, my homeland? “Chechnya. Russia,” he is surprised.

How amazing. Who would have heard now: the son of Dzhokhar Dudayev yearns for Russian speech and Russia. The father fought with Russia, and his son yearns for it and dreams of returning. Dudayev does not agree. “My father didn’t fight with Russia,” he tactfully corrects me. He says that Dzhokhar understood that Chechnya would be nowhere without Russia, he respected Russian literature, and served its army.

By the way, Dudayev was the first Chechen general in the USSR army and one of the best military pilots in the country. “But he wanted partnership, he wanted the Chechens’ right to live in their own state to be recognized, as Georgia, Azerbaijan, Armenia, Lithuania, Latvia and so on wanted.” Everyone who wanted it got their freedom. Except for the Chechens.

I remember the words of my Chechen friend, who, talking about Dudayev’s rule, said that after Dudayev came to power, terrible unrest began, and he insisted that “if the trams stop, then they will bring in troops.” And sure enough, at the end of 1994, the trams in Grozny stopped, the center disconnected the republic from its power transmission line, and this was the last measure following the economic blockade. And once under blockade, the republic began to be marginalized, and the city’s tram artery was literally pulled apart piece by piece, along wires and rails.

“In November or December 1994, I don’t remember exactly, Chechens stood in a human chain, holding hands, from Dagestan to the border with Ingushetia - they wanted to draw the attention of the world community so that we would not be bombed or touched,” says Taipov from France . “Father didn’t want war, but you see how it all turned out,” - this is Dudayev.

I ask him: if my father were alive and saw everything that his struggle had turned into, would he not regret what he did? Degi is silent for a long time: cigarette in hand, looking into the distance. “Understand, I cannot judge my father. Everything was boiling and seething then, all the republics wanted freedom. It was like euphoria...

My father was supported in the Kremlin. Zhirinovsky came to him, high officials in Moscow received him and said: come on, well done, go ahead. This gave some illusion that victory was possible. At least in the form in which Tatarstan later received it, in the form of autonomy. But it turned out that Chechnya was dragged into war. And Russia was pushed into the war. But they could have, they could have come to an agreement and made the neighbors true friends, and not enemies, as happened later with many. And Russia itself would be stronger.”

Dudayev Jr. believes that for the Russian leadership the Chechen issue lay in the field of geopolitics. “If you look at the map, Chechnya is located in such a way that you cannot cut it out separately; it is inextricably linked with the rest of the Caucasus and Russia itself. We will not be able to set borders and separate from Russia, being surrounded by Russia, being, in fact, part of it. Separate Chechnya - Dagestan, Ingushetia, Stavropol region will crumble. That is probably why the question was so acute for Russia: not “to lose Chechnya or not,” but “to lose the Caucasus or not.” And conquering the Caucasus is an ancient pastime of the Russian Empire. That’s probably why the cutting turned out like this.”

They finally bring us meat. But it cools down: I ask question after question, and he, looking for answers, returns to the past, and this contrast of past and present is such that he literally feels bad. Just imagine: the son of the president of a tiny country that is at war with the empire, a golden boy who has almost everything, who goes to school with security, his father is accepted by Saudi kings and Turkish politicians, the pro-Western Balts send money to help, the army is one of the most big countries the world is temporarily powerless in front of a handful of desperate warriors, on whose new coat of arms a wolf lies.

(“This coat of arms is on my shoulder, I tattooed it, knowing that we Muslims are not supposed to have tattoos, and before the funeral it will definitely be burned off our bodies, but I won’t care anymore,” he laughs, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray. ) This wolf, a symbol of that Ichkeria that existed for only a few years, driven with a needle into the skin, is a seal of fidelity to what the father served. “This flag and coat of arms hung for several years, they were removed, but they will remain on me until the end.”

To paraphrase Kharms, “you could have become a king, but you had nothing to do with it.” He, as a son, got to wander, and the other son got the same (and by the same) murdered father - everything. “I remember Ramzan, by the way. He was such a silent boy, he ran around on Akhmad’s errands, with his daddy under his arm.” - “Helped - I mean, my father?” “I mean, yes, it’s a family business,” he answers with subtle irony.

Dudayev smokes cigarette after cigarette. With his twitchiness, profile, impeccable manners and hopeless melancholy, he begins to remind me of Adrien Brody. He remembers how he came to Chechnya as a first-grader, how he lived in Katayama (a cottage community along Staropromyslovskoye Highway with lilac alleys), how happy he was, because he suddenly had so many brothers and sisters, and everyone spoke Chechen - his father’s language, and then it began there was a war, and he lived in the presidential palace, he was guarded for days, and it seemed like there was almost no childhood, but you are still happy, because among your own people, at home.

And the last - the brightest - years of life with my father, how they shot together at the shooting range, how my father taught how to use weapons, all these conversations about life, and life itself - at the limit, at its peak, at its end. And as a result: “How many rich houses, expensive cars and European capitals, but nowhere and never will I be as happy as I was in Katayama.”

“Have you not thought about such a paradox that Ramzan Kadyrov is the successor to the work of Dzhokhar Dudayev?” - I ask. Dudayev almost choked. “Look,” I continue. - Your father played honestly, like a Soviet officer who knows what honor and dignity are. He said openly what he wanted. Ramzan does exactly the opposite: he says what Moscow wants to hear, assures it of loyalty, but the laws and power of the Russian Federation in Chechnya are no longer valid. There is neither mountain democracy nor Russian state. Chechnya is a small sultanate.”

Dudayev laughs: “Sorry, I remembered how someone advised Dzhokhar to introduce Sharia law in Chechnya. And the father laughed: “If I cut off the hands of all the Chechens, then where can I get new Chechens?” I know you want to know what I think about him. Now I’ll formulate, wait... When they ask me how I feel about Kadyrov, I answer: Kadyrov was able to do what others could never do,” he says meaningfully.

Then I ask him who his father will remain in the history of Chechnya: the man who involved the people in the massacre, or the ideologist of independence? Dudayev is silent for a long time. Unpleasant, painful questions, which, I’m sure, he himself pondered more than once. “I think that no matter how times change, no matter how many years pass, my father will remain what he is - a symbol of freedom, for which there is a very high price.”

Not everyone can bear the weight of the burden left by their father. Dudayev's eldest son Ovlur left with his family for Sweden, abandoning the name given at birth. Ovlur Dzhokharovich Dudayev became Oleg Zakharovich Davydov - it seems that it couldn’t be funnier. “I will never be able to understand this,” Deguy sums up briefly.

Daughter Dana got married, changed her last name and, as befits a Chechen woman, is raising children and taking care of her family. Degi, the youngest, stayed only son his father, and although the surname Dudayev brings its owner a lot of problems, and his movements around the world are examined by the intelligence services through a magnifying glass, he carries it proudly, like a family banner.

The interview ends, we go out into the darkness of Vilnius, colored by the lights of Christmas illumination. Dudayev behaves like a gentleman and sympathetically offers to take him by the elbow. “Listen, let’s go to Gamsa? Well, you asked for someone from that time who knew my father, my family, me, but no one knows Gamsa better anyway. He arrived a few days ago, this is a sign of fate.”

We get into the car and go to the hotel “for Gamsa”. I still don’t quite understand who it is, then I see a tall Caucasian man impatiently waiting for us in the lobby and looking interestedly out the window. He finally gets into the car and immediately begins making jokes and jokes with his inimitable Georgian accent. His face seems familiar to me, but for the life of me I don’t remember where it came from.

“Julia, you know, I am very drawn to St. Helena Island - when I am there, I feel as if I have returned home. Probably in past life I died there!” “I had the same feeling in Istanbul, when I looked out of the windows of the harem at the Bosphorus and burst into tears because I would never see my father’s house.” Dudayev turned around in admiration: “Well, you’ve gathered here, huh!”

Creaking through the snow, we walk from the car to the Radisson Hotel to climb to the 22nd floor, where from the huge windows of the Skybar we will look at Vilnius at night. There I learn that Gamsa is Giorgi, and only then that this is Giorgi Gamsakhurdia, the son of the first Georgian president who gave Georgia independence. As photographer Lesha Maishev sarcastically noted: “The only thing missing from this table was Gaddafi’s son.”

Their fathers were friendly and dreamed of creating a united Caucasus. “The Caucasus is not Europe, not Asia, it is a separate unique civilization that we want to present to the world.” Gamsakhurdia, in fact, helped Dudayev to legally flawlessly hold a referendum on independence and secession from the USSR. Gamsakhurdia was killed in 1993, Dudayev in 1996. A couple of weeks later, already in Moscow, I will receive an SMS from Gamsakhurdia Jr.: “Imagine, at a meeting of security forces, Ramzik ​​said that he was giving a million dollars for my head. Am I worth so little, I don’t understand, huh? :))”

While Dudayev and I are talking about something, Gamsakhurdia’s phone rings and he leaves. Returning, shining. “Borya called and said to me: have you come up with something? When are we going to start something, huh?” Boris turns out to be Boris Berezovsky. “Where does he get the strength and money to do this? - I ask. “They say on Channel One that he is as poor as a church mouse and lives on handouts.” The roar of laughter shakes the table so much that the cups rattle. “Borya is poor?! And on Channel One they don’t say that the stork brings children, huh? Wait, I’ll go and tell Bora this!”

The next morning, Dudayev picks me up at the hotel, we have breakfast, the waitress asks in Russian: “What kind of coffee would you like?” “White,” Dudayev answers. I look at him questioningly. “Ah-ah,” he laughs, “white is with milk. Black - without milk. That's what the Lithuanians say. You know, I speak six languages, lived in different countries, in my head - like in a cauldron - traditions, cultures, expressions are mixed, sometimes such confusion arises, you know, sometimes you wake up and don’t immediately understand where you are and who you are. This is how it happens with me.”

Living in Russia, he spoke Russian, then for several years of living in Chechnya - in Chechen, then Georgia, therefore, he learned Georgian, then English college in Istanbul (“the first year he was silent, because all the teaching is in English, and where did I get it from?” was, English? How did I speak on the second!”), then the Higher Diplomatic College in Baku (“Turkish and Azerbaijani are almost identical, they were the easiest to learn”), then Lithuanian (“this is a language not for our ears, but I already like polyglot, wherever I live at least a little, I begin to speak the language”).

We stop by the empty office of his company VEO, which specializes in solar energy, installation and sale of solar generators and panels. “I used to work in logistics, then I decided to get involved in alternative energy, we are partners with the Germans, they are now ahead of everyone in solar energy.” Gray carpet on the floor, computers, office equipment - everything seems to be deliberately in gray northern tones. He rents an apartment nearby, in an unfinished mirrored high-rise building, one wing is inhabited by tenants, the other two are empty, with gaping concrete eye sockets.

“They abandoned construction because of the financial crisis, this is Baltic pragmatism,” he laughs. Nearby is the icy, deserted, windswept Constitution Avenue with the mirrored Swedbank skyscraper, like a revived picture of the surface of the Moon. The apartment - a high-tech studio with floor-to-ceiling windows - is cold and uninhabited, the sun doesn’t shine through the windows, because apparently it doesn’t exist here at all. This is a transit point for things, sleep, but not “my home is my fortress.” There seems to be not a single personal thing here that speaks about the owner.

“No father, no home, nowhere,” I remember. In a silver Macintosh we look at a huge archive of photographs: Dzhokhar Dudayev after the first flight on a fighter, in the cockpit, in formation (everyone is looking straight, he is the only one with his body turned and looking to the side, and so on in many photographs, like Napoleonic “it’s not me” I go against the current, and the current is against me"), presentation of the rank of general; then Grozny, politics, a smart suit, sparkling eyes and enthusiastic listeners...

Black-and-white photographs show little Degi in his father’s general’s cap in the arms of Chechen publicist and comrade-in-arms of Dzhokhar Maryam Vakhidova, caption under the photo: Little general. The largest series of pictures is stored in the Daddy and me folder.

We go out, and I notice how Dudayev quickly, automatically opens and closes the door, turns off the lights on the landing, runs down, drives quickly, all the time writing something on his smartphone, as if he was afraid to stop. I tell him about this. “If you stop, you start to remember, think, reflect, because I’m always on the move: business, friends, the gym, airports. Chechnya is like a taboo. Yesterday I talked to you for several hours about Chechnya and broke down. This is the pain, you know... that will never go away.”

We decide to spend this day on the road, going to Trakai Castle. We drive out onto the highway - on both sides there are snow-covered pines and spruces: old, centuries-old ones, under heavy caps, and young trees, sprinkled with snow. “Tell me about Chechnya, how is it there now?” - he suddenly asks. I tell you for a long time, in detail, he has not been there since 1999, since the beginning of the second war. He listens, is silent, then thoughtfully says: “You know, maybe it’s good that it’s like this now...”

The bundled-up Lithuanians are dancing from the cold, and Dudayev is wearing a light knitted jacket with faux fur: “No, I’m not freezing, however, when we lived in Transbaikalia, my mother wrapped me in overalls and sent me to sleep on the balcony, in 40-degree frost. Well creative person“What will you do,” he smiles.

Near the lake near the Trakai fortress there are trading tents, I drop in to buy gifts for the children, and Dudayev, having learned that I have two sons, buys gifts from himself: a wooden pistol with a stretched rubber band, which makes a completely believable sound, a wooden knight’s hatchet, a sword and a slingshot with which you can shoot an elephant. I protest. “Don’t argue, these are boys! They must get used to weapons from childhood and be on friendly terms with them. Moreover, you know, times are like this, everything goes to big war, - I look at his suddenly serious face. “Men need to be educated from childhood.”

He says that in the third grade he had an old TT in his briefcase, and he himself disassembled and lubricated security pistols. Dzhokhar Dudayev’s love for weapons is known: after becoming president, he allowed all men from 15 (!) to 50 years old to own them. The Soviet government leaving the republic left behind military units and weapons depots, which the locals stole with great enthusiasm.

As Colonel Viktor Baranets writes in the book “The General Staff Without Secrets,” the Kremlin tried to divide the remaining weapons in the republic on a 50/50 basis, and Yeltsin sent Defense Minister Grachev to negotiate with Dudayev, but he allegedly “didn’t have time,” and by 1992 70 percent of the weapons were stolen. By the beginning of the war, the republic was fully armed, and during the second war many Chechens “watered their gardens with oil” (a joke that every Chechen will understand). At the beginning of hostilities, Degi himself received as a gift from his father an Astra A-100 pistol, made by order of the CIA in Spain: “For me, it is better than all the Stechkins and Glocks for its accuracy, the ability to install a laser sight with a sensor on the handle, the absence of a safety and for its size "

In the evening the three of us meet. I take out my voice recorder, Gamsakhurdia is the second one for backup. “My father,” Dudayev begins the story, “was friends with Gamsakhurdia, and when a year after the referendum and Georgia’s exit from the USSR, Zviad conflicted with the pro-Moscow Shevardnadze, his family was in danger. He asked for asylum in Azerbaijan, but was not given it.

In Armenia, Gamsakhurdia’s family was accepted, but under pressure from Moscow they had to surrender him. Any day now, they were supposed to be sent by plane from Yerevan to Moscow and arrested. Or kill. Then my father sent his personal plane and security chief Movladi Dzhabrailov to Yerevan with the order “not to return without Gamsakhurdia.” He burst into the office of the then President of Armenia Ter-Petrosyan, took out a grenade and grabbed the pin.”

“Yes, yes, that’s how it was,” continues Gamsakhurdia. - He said that he would release the pin only when our whole family landed at the Grozny airport, and so he sat opposite the President of Armenia for several hours until they reported from Grozny that everyone was in place and had landed. The security wanted to arrest him or shoot him, but Ter-Petrosyan said: this is a man’s act, let him return home. Vai, Yulia, imagine what those times were like, huh? Time for men and real actions!” So the Gamsakhurdias escaped and lived for several years in the presidential palace of Dzhokhar.

Dudayev recalls the moment when the family of the exiled Gamsakhurdia landed in Grozny. “George came down from the plane and, raising his eyebrows, looked around: it was exactly a scene from the movie “Home Alone,” remember when the hero realizes that he will have Christmas in New York without his parents. He was such a plump boy, calm in appearance, but as soon as I saw him, I immediately understood: this guy will rock!”

Several years of friendship in bombed-out Grozny under the roar of military aircraft, childhood spent within four walls and with eternal security. “We didn’t have a childhood, we didn’t! Now, I remember, I remembered an episode from my childhood!” Then they say in chorus: “Georgy stole a bottle of cognac, and we drank it between two: I was about 10, Georgy was 13. And in order to escape from Alla (Dudaeva - GQ note), we climbed into my father’s ZIL and fell asleep in the back seat. Everyone was looking for us so much, they almost went crazy, they thought we had been kidnapped, imagine! And we grunted until we lost our pulse and fell asleep. It was our kind of rebellion!”

Having left for the Baltic states, Dudayev entered the IT faculty. “Where else, I sat locked up all the time and talked to the computer.” It is difficult to experience that acute feeling of the proximity of death, which only happens in war, in ordinary life, but it is possible: Dudayev is interested in snowboarding and racing motorcycles. On his Honda CBR 1000RR, he accelerates to almost 300 km/h. Gamsakhurdia somehow suddenly opens up: “When I feel really bad, I go up (to the mountains - GQ note), to a deserted place, and throw grenades into the gorge, and this roar, explosions, they calm me down.”

Dudayev and Gamsakhurdia the younger remember how their fathers, sitting in the kitchen in the evenings, drew big plans on paper: the Confederation of Caucasian peoples, a new idea for the entire Caucasian civilization (mountain code of honor, etiquette, cult of elders, free possession of weapons), multiplied by the secularism of the state devices, the Constitution and democracy (here the tone was set by Gamsakhurdia, a noble family, white bone, nominated by the Helsinki Group for the Nobel Peace Prize in 1978).

In 1990, Dzhokhar Dudayev returned from the Congress of Unrepresented Peoples, held in Holland, with a sketch of a new Chechen flag and coat of arms: 9 stars (teips) and a wolf lying against the background of the sun. (“It’s no wonder that his chakra opened in Holland,” Deguy jokes about his father’s insight.) Alla Dudayeva (this is a little-known fact) took the sketch and drew the coat of arms in the form in which it is now known. “She looked up to Akela from Mowgli and made the wolf more formidable than her father had.” Crazy time, extreme degree of feelings. “The fathers dreamed that they would create a completely new education based on political map peace." A small but proud bird - like in that parable.

To some extent, we can say that Gamsakhurdia succeeded: Georgia was separated from Russia by the Great Caucasus ridge, and the imperial hand, or rather the missile, reached Chechnya without hindrance. And if Dudayev Jr. tried to escape from the past, doing business, wandering around the world, keeping memories in a silver Macintosh, then Gamsakhurdia really “lit up.” As an active member of Saakashvili’s team, he was one of the initiators of the introduction of a visa-free regime, first for residents of the Caucasus, then in general. At one time, the Russian Federation was put on the worldwide wanted list by Interpol: Kadyrov’s supporters accused him of supporting Chechen terrorists in Pankisi. He introduces himself as “the only Chechen-Georgian,” that is, a person dealing with the Chechen issue in Georgia.

“You probably know that in order for a Chechen to leave his homeland, something supernatural had to happen,” Taipov says via Skype from France, where he has lived since 2004. “So in 2004, when Akhmad Kadyrov was killed and his son was appointed, the following happened: everyone who in the 1990s were patriots and advocated independence - and this was mostly the intelligentsia - everyone realized that there would be no mercy . We were free and they weren't, you know? Therefore, 2004 is the second wave of emigration, the most powerful in the entire history of the Chechen people. The free people fled."

Here again, involuntary parallels arise with the white emigration, who sold family jewelry for pennies, just to have time to escape from those “who were nothing, will become everything.”

“The young state makes many mistakes,” says Gamsakhurdia. - Misha also made mistakes, of course, it wouldn’t work without them, but still he managed to build constitutional state, laid the foundation. Dzhokhar also made mistakes, but he was then able to lay the foundations of a democratic society, the foundations of morality, which he then began to violently destroy.”

Dudayev, for example, categorically prohibited the torture of prisoners. “He said this: what is the fault of that soldier whom the Motherland sent here, by order, by order? He was thrown into a meat grinder, he is following orders - why commit atrocities and humiliate him? Once he hit the hands of Ruslan Khaikhoroev, a field commander from Bamut, with a rifle butt, because he allowed himself to commit atrocities against Russian prisoners of war. If my father saw how today one Chechen can afford to abuse another...” - and a painful silence hangs over the table.

Russian propaganda criticizes Saakashvili for supporting the separatists, the “terrorist nest” in the Pankisi Gorge, suspecting the machinations of either the CIA or the devil, but everything is actually simple and sentimental: this is the gratitude of a boy with sad eyes, who came out of the plane and holding his father’s hand, who saved to the Chechens, when everyone around them betrayed and turned away, but the Chechens did not. So when in 2010 Saakashvili won applause at a speech at the UN, voicing the “idea of ​​a United Caucasus,” we now understand where this idea comes from. From the kitchen of the presidential palace in Grozny, from the distant 1990s.

We are sitting in the California bar, next to a noisy group of Lithuanian basketball players, drinking Irish coffee. (“The drink of English intelligence officers,” comments Gamsakhurdia.) The bill is brought, and Dudayev, like a hawk, intercepts the check so that, God forbid, Gamsakhurdia does not pay.

When he goes to the counter to pay, I hear Georgy: “It’s because he lives here, and I came to visit, and this is how he welcomes me, Caucasian hospitality! Dzhokhar raised him ideally, he has honor and decency in the first place, that’s what an officer is, you know? I think that’s why he stays away from everything, because he sees dirt in the distance and wants to get around it.”

We return to the hotel after midnight, Vilnius shimmers with snow and lights, on the right rises a white mountain Cathedral, Catholic crosses, snowdrifts, people go home. And at this moment I understand why Dudayev never became a real emigrant, did not leave far and forever, did not devote himself to memoirs, opposition activities, and did not make capital in his father’s name. Why is he stuck in this sleepy Lithuania, at a snowy stop, in this transit zone, yearning for Russian speech, loving Russia and his little Chechnya selflessly and honestly, as only someone who has lost his home can love.

In May, Lithuania began trial against the son of the first president of Ichkeria, Dzhokhar Dudayev. He and three Lithuanians are accused of producing false documents.

Life after death

One of the most closed Chechen families found itself at the center of a major public scandal. The son of the first president of Ichkeria, Degi Dudayev, is in the dock.

The personality of Dzhokhar Dudayev to this day, 17 years after his death, is assessed ambiguously. Dudayev is the most famous name the first Chechen campaign, rumors that he survived the assassination attempt never ceased. Only on the 15th anniversary of Dudayev’s death, representatives of the special services revealed some details of the operation to eliminate him: for example, they reported that there was a traitor in the general’s circle who betrayed him. They also named the price paid for Dudayev’s head at that time—$1 million.

Degi Dudayev is the youngest representative of the family, but today he is probably the most famous. Two other children dead general They avoid publicity as much as possible. Dudayev’s eldest son, Ovlur, born in 1969, even completely changed his name: Ovlur Dzhokharovich Dudayev is now listed in the documents as Oleg Zakharovich Davydov. Lithuanian citizenship in a new name was issued to him in one day, which caused discontent in calm Lithuania - the citizens of the country themselves then waited 2 weeks for the documents to be processed. Most likely, Dudayev-Davydov had to change his name to a less odious one because of business: there are not many people willing to do business with a representative of an odious surname. But they managed to remain incognito for only a short time, and as a result, Dudayev-Davydov, according to some sources, moved with his family to Sweden.

Dzhokhar Dudayev’s daughter, Dana, lives with her family in Istanbul, also distancing herself as much as possible from any publicity.

The lie detector did not reveal

Thus, 29-year-old Dudayev Jr. is the only representative of the family (except for his mother Alla Dudayeva) who sometimes meets with journalists. Last year he even appeared on a Georgian TV channel in an unexpected capacity - the hero of the “Lie Detector” program. Most of the questions were about his father and his attitude towards Russia.

– Do you hate the Russian people?

– If the opportunity presented itself, would you avenge your father?

– Were there people around him who turned out to be traitors?

– Is it true that Dudayev died?

– Did you participate in blood feud?

Degi was the first in the history of the Georgian program whom the detector could not catch in a lie, and won the main prize - 20 thousand lari (approximately 340 thousand rubles). True, Dudayev Jr. refused to answer the last - super question, which would have increased the winnings five times. Perhaps he was confused by the penultimate question:

– Do you think that Chechen traditions limit human freedom?

For the conservative Caucasian diaspora, this is a very risky answer.

Degi Dudayev speaks more willingly about his father than about his own life. The trial against him began in May. He and three Lithuanians are accused of producing false documents. The Baltic states are a convenient transit to Europe, including for the huge Chechen diaspora, which settled here after Ramzan Kadyrov came to power in the republic. Dudayev was caught red-handed - in his Audi A6 car he was carrying seven fake European passports for Chechens. According to investigators, this is not the first time.

“This is a serious crime, according to our laws it is punishable by 6 years in prison,” Tomas Songaila, an investigator at the Lithuanian prosecutor’s office, commented to Sobesednik.

Later, Lithuanian investigators found a printing house near Kaunas, where passports and even bank cards was put on stream.

– A package of documents for traveling to Europe can be bought in the Baltics, this black business exists, and it is quite developed. The minimum set of documents for legal border crossing costs from 10 thousand dollars,” said a businessman from Kaliningrad, who has business contacts with Lithuania.

Judging can't be let go

- Only the first one passed court hearing, but it was short, a continuation will follow in June, and then the consideration will most likely be transferred to Vilnius altogether,” representative of the Kaunas City Court Jomile Juskaitė-Vizbarenė told Interlocutor.

Although the Dudayev family left Russia immediately after Dzhokhar’s death, they nevertheless remained in the spotlight. Several years ago, Alla Dudayeva gave an interview to Sobesednik. Most For some time, the family lived in Lithuania, hoping to eventually move to Estonia, where Dzhokhar Dudayev served in his youth. But the Estonian government never accepted the Dudayevs, fearing unnecessary problems.

Immediately after the arrest of Dega Dudayev, his mother called what was happening “a provocation of the Russian special services.” True, unofficially, sources close to the Dudayevs say that Deguy actually “helped his relatives.” Having, however, violated a number of articles of the Lithuanian Criminal Code.

“Degi is already a European Chechen and, one might say, a very prosperous representative of the younger generation,” said a family acquaintance. “He graduated from the diplomatic college in Istanbul, drove a modern and expensive Audi car, and regularly traveled abroad. Recently, he began to shine more actively, perhaps he was thinking about politics, so they cut off his oxygen. Every step of a person with the surname Dudayev will always be known. He will always be “under the hood.” By the way, he is very friendly with the son of ex-President of Georgia Zviad Gamsakhurdia, who also died under strange circumstances.

Alla Dudayeva commented on the court story for Sobesednik:

“I can tell you with confidence: I know that my son is innocent, and when the trial comes, he will confirm it!” Deguy turned out to be the most famous of those detained, and a real pandemonium was made about his name. And now they are talking about a trial in order to draw attention to Degi and again present him as some kind of criminal. The real persecution of our family is in full swing, because many in the Caucasus still pay tribute to Dzhokhar. The media is tasked with dirtying it up. I already have real armor against any attacks, but now they have taken on our children.
Russian and Lithuanian media reported about the trial. The issue is very sensitive for both countries. Vilnius, which willingly distributed citizenship to refugees from Russia and named one of the boulevards in the city center after Dzhokhar Dudayev, is extremely disadvantageous from the hype around the process.

As we learned, Dzhokhar Dudayev’s wife Alla has already moved to live from Lithuania to the country that is most comfortable for her - Georgia. Degi himself also submitted documents to obtain Georgian citizenship. Which means, in this already complicated story A third party, Tbilisi, has already been involved.

Volgina Alina

(1947-08-10 ) (72 years old) Citizenship:

USSR USSR (1947-1991)
Russia Russia (de facto until 2004)
Chechnya (unrecognized)
Stateless (de facto since 2004)

K:Wikipedia:Articles without images (type: not specified)

Alla Fedorovna Dudaeva(born Alevtina Fedorovna Kulikova, genus. March 24, 1947, Moscow region) - widow of Dzhokhar Dudayev, artist, writer, TV presenter, member since 2009. Currently granted asylum in Sweden.

Biography

In October 1999, she left Chechnya with her children (by that time already adults). She lived in Baku, from 2002 with her daughter in Istanbul, then in Vilnius (the son of Alla and Dzhokhar Dudayev, Avlur, received Lithuanian citizenship and a passport in the name of Oleg Davydov; Alla herself only had a residence permit). In 2006, she tried to obtain Estonian citizenship (where in the -1990s she lived with her husband, who at that time commanded a division heavy bombers and was the commander of the Tartu garrison), but both times she was refused.

Activity

Alla Dudayeva is the author of memoirs about her husband and a number of books published in Lithuania, Estonia, Azerbaijan, Turkey and France. . He has been a member of the Presidium of the Government of the Chechen Republic of Ichkeria since 2009.

All her life Alla Dudayeva writes poetry and draws pictures.

Until October 20, 2012, she worked on the Georgian Russian-language TV channel “First Caucasian” (hosted the program “Caucasian Portrait”).

Alla Dudayeva's paintings have been exhibited in different countries of the world.

Bibliography

Translations into foreign languages

• Milyon birinci(The first million) “Şule Yayınları”, 448 pp. 2003 ISBN 9756446080 (Turkish)
• Le loup tchétchène: ma vie avec Djokhar Doudaïev(Chechen Wolf: my life with Dzhokhar Dudayev) “Maren Sell” 398 pp. 2005 ISBN 2-35004-013-5 (French)

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An excerpt characterizing Dudayev, Alla Fedorovna

Again, but very close this time, something whistled, like a bird flying from top to bottom, a fire flashed in the middle of the street, something fired and covered the street with smoke.
- Villain, why are you doing this? – the owner shouted, running up to the cook.
At the same moment, women howled pitifully from different sides, a child began to cry in fear, and people with pale faces silently crowded around the cook. From this crowd, the cook’s moans and sentences were heard most loudly:
- Oh oh oh, my darlings! My little darlings are white! Don't let me die! My white darlings!..
Five minutes later there was no one left on the street. The cook, with her thigh broken by a grenade fragment, was carried into the kitchen. Alpatych, his coachman, Ferapontov’s wife and children, and the janitor sat in the basement, listening. The roar of guns, the whistle of shells and the pitiful moan of the cook, which dominated all sounds, did not cease for a moment. The hostess either rocked and coaxed the child, or in a pitiful whisper asked everyone who entered the basement where her owner, who remained on the street, was. The shopkeeper who entered the basement told her that the owner had gone with the people to the cathedral, where they were raising the Smolensk miraculous icon.
By dusk the cannonade began to subside. Alpatych came out of the basement and stopped at the door. The previously clear evening sky was completely covered with smoke. And through this smoke the young, high-standing crescent of the month strangely shone. After the previous terrible roar of guns had ceased, there seemed silence over the city, interrupted only by the rustling of footsteps, groans, distant screams and the crackle of fires that seemed to be widespread throughout the city. The cook's moans had now died down. Black clouds of smoke from the fires rose and dispersed from both sides. On the street, not in rows, but like ants from a ruined hummock, in different uniforms and in different directions, soldiers passed and ran. In Alpatych’s eyes, several of them ran into Ferapontov’s yard. Alpatych went to the gate. Some regiment, crowded and in a hurry, blocked the street, walking back.
“They are surrendering the city, leave, leave,” the officer who noticed his figure told him and immediately shouted to the soldiers:
- I'll let you run around the yards! - he shouted.
Alpatych returned to the hut and, calling the coachman, ordered him to leave. Following Alpatych and the coachman, all of Ferapontov’s household came out. Seeing the smoke and even the fires of the fires, now visible in the beginning twilight, the women, who had been silent until then, suddenly began to cry out, looking at the fires. As if echoing them, the same cries were heard at other ends of the street. Alpatych and his coachman, with shaking hands, straightened the tangled reins and lines of the horses under the canopy.
When Alpatych was leaving the gate, he saw about ten soldiers pouring bags and knapsacks into Ferapontov’s open shop, loudly talking. wheat flour and sunflowers. At the same time, Ferapontov entered the shop, returning from the street. Seeing the soldiers, he wanted to shout something, but suddenly stopped and, clutching his hair, laughed a sobbing laugh.
- Get everything, guys! Don't let the devils get you! - he shouted, grabbing the bags himself and throwing them into the street. Some soldiers, frightened, ran out, some continued to pour in. Seeing Alpatych, Ferapontov turned to him.
– I’ve made up my mind! Race! - he shouted. - Alpatych! I've decided! I'll light it myself. I decided... - Ferapontov ran into the yard.
Soldiers were constantly walking along the street, blocking it all, so that Alpatych could not pass and had to wait. The owner Ferapontova and her children were also sitting on the cart, waiting to be able to leave.
It was already quite night. There were stars in the sky and the young moon, occasionally obscured by smoke, shone. On the descent to the Dnieper, Alpatych's carts and their mistresses, moving slowly in the ranks of soldiers and other crews, had to stop. Not far from the intersection where the carts stopped, in an alley, a house and shops were burning. The fire had already burned out. The flame either died down and was lost in the black smoke, then suddenly flared up brightly, strangely clearly illuminating the faces of the crowded people standing at the crossroads. Black figures of people flashed in front of the fire, and from behind the incessant crackling of the fire, talking and screams were heard. Alpatych, who got off the cart, seeing that the cart would not let him through soon, turned into the alley to look at the fire. The soldiers were constantly snooping back and forth past the fire, and Alpatych saw how two soldiers and with them some man in a frieze overcoat were dragging burning logs from the fire across the street into the neighboring yard; others carried armfuls of hay.
Alpatych approached a large crowd of people standing in front of a tall barn that was burning with full fire. The walls were all on fire, the back one had collapsed, the plank roof had collapsed, the beams were on fire. Obviously, the crowd was waiting for the moment when the roof would collapse. Alpatych expected this too.
- Alpatych! – suddenly a familiar voice called out to the old man.
“Father, your Excellency,” answered Alpatych, instantly recognizing the voice of his young prince.
Prince Andrei, in a cloak, riding a black horse, stood behind the crowd and looked at Alpatych.
- How are you here? - he asked.
“Your... your Excellency,” said Alpatych and began to sob... “Yours, yours... or are we already lost?” Father…
- How are you here? – repeated Prince Andrei.
The flame flared up brightly at that moment and illuminated for Alpatych the pale and exhausted face of his young master. Alpatych told how he was sent and how he could forcefully leave.
- What, your Excellency, or are we lost? – he asked again.
Prince Andrei, without answering, took out a notebook and, raising his knee, began to write with a pencil on a torn sheet. He wrote to his sister:
“Smolensk is being surrendered,” he wrote, “Bald Mountains will be occupied by the enemy in a week. Leave now for Moscow. Answer me immediately when you leave, sending a messenger to Usvyazh.”
Having written and given the piece of paper to Alpatych, he verbally told him how to manage the departure of the prince, princess and son with the teacher and how and where to answer him immediately. Before he had time to finish these orders, the chief of staff on horseback, accompanied by his retinue, galloped up to him.
-Are you a colonel? - shouted the chief of staff, with a German accent, in a voice familiar to Prince Andrei. - They light houses in your presence, and you stand? What does this mean? “You will answer,” shouted Berg, who was now assistant chief of staff of the left flank. infantry troops first army - a very pleasant place and in plain sight, as Berg said.
Prince Andrei looked at him and, without answering, continued, turning to Alpatych:
“So tell me that I’m waiting for an answer by the tenth, and if I don’t receive news on the tenth that everyone has left, I myself will have to drop everything and go to Bald Mountains.”
“I, Prince, say this only because,” said Berg, recognizing Prince Andrei, “that I must carry out orders, because I always carry out them exactly... Please forgive me,” Berg made some excuses.

Today Alla Dudayeva received political asylum in Lithuania. In Vilnius, in the house of Ovlur’s eldest son, where she lives, there is a lot of green and dad’s things. A candlestick with two candles now stands in the kitchen on the windowsill - a stylization of a Russian girl in a sundress - this is the first joint family gift of the Dudayevs, bought by them in St. Petersburg. Real Chechen jugs and an old tea set - all these things were lucky to remain “living”. The world of the 21st century calmly observes the terror of a great power against a small nation, calling it “the fight against global terrorism.” There is no one left to live on a small piece of land measuring 130 km by 130 km, and no one to come to the graves of their husbands, brothers and sons. Alla Dudayeva learned to communicate with the world via the Internet, she cannot remain silent about this war... Alla Fedorovna cooked potatoes in the peasant style, as her Russian grandmother did. There were already plates of hot food on the large round table. chicken soup And homemade noodles, thinly sliced ​​bread, vegetable salad, apples and candy. The TV was on in the living room. ...We didn’t hear what Vladimir Putin was talking about from the big screen - we didn’t have time to turn on the sound. Alla Dudayeva always watches the news on Russian channels. And I immediately began to pull the camera out of my backpack, what a picture: she - without the right to return to her homeland, and the man who gave the order to “kill the Chechens in the toilet”! Seeing that I was pointing the lens, Alla Dudayeva said: “I’ll be there now,” and quietly left the kitchen. “Now I’m dressed like a Chechen,” Mrs. Alla said when she returned. Mrs. Alla, you are dressed like a Chechen. But you're Russian, aren't you? Yes, Russian. But my whole life was spent with the Chechen people. In 1967, I met Dzhokhar, almost eleven years have passed since his death, I am constantly with his people, with his children, and all my friends are Chechens. I fully accepted their mentality, and I do not separate myself from the Chechen people. And they no longer consider me Russian. I know Russians who became brothers to the Chechens. And when I pray, when I do namaz, I remember the names of everyone who died. This best warriors, men of the Chechen people. I start with the name Dzhokhar and say: “Allah, bless them ghazavat,” and I list Dzhokhar, our dead guards Maksud, Mohammed, Sadie, I list the names of many guardsmen, relatives of Aslan, Beslan, Viskhan, Umar, Lechu, Shamil, Timur, Aslambek... I also name friends, the deceased Lom-El, that is, the Russian Lenya, who converted to Islam and many others.” I name everyone who was close to Dzhokhar, both those who died during the first Chechen war and the second. Everyone I knew. And I name the last names of Aslan Maskhadov and Shamil Basayev. And now Litvinenko. (1) Alexandra Litvinenko? Why are you praying for him? Because he converted to Islam. He did something invaluable for the Chechen people - he discovered a huge deception about the explosion of houses in Moscow, because of which the second war began. For the sake of this truth he gave his life. And in the Koran it is written that “those who follow the straight path, I take away not dead, but alive.” Dzhokhar also spoke about this. Were you personally acquainted with Alexander? Under what circumstances did you meet Litvinenko? It was during my arrest in Nalchik, after the death of Dzhokhar. We were supposed to move to Turkey, but I was detained because I had a passport with my maiden name Kulikov. Litvinenko was an investigator, and he needed to be interrogated in Kislovodsk, where I was transported after Shamil Basayev’s statement about that he would come to Nalchik to free me. The Russian special services were very scared, and secretly transported me to Kislovodsk. Litvinenko arrived there, even the guards spoke very well of him. Why did you believe Litvinenko? He was completely different from the KGB man .He was very light, an open person and very charming. There were some strange things though. He introduced himself like this: “I’m Alexander Volkov. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?” This, apparently, was a sign for him, because we have a wolf on our Chechen flag. Therefore, he took it as his second name, as befits an FSB officer - Volkov. Then we talked for a long time... He said that after Yeltsin’s death no one would name squares or streets after him. I think that a normal FSB officer would not say this. He sympathized with our liberation struggle with all his heart. Have you met with Russian presidents - Yeltsin, Putin? I only saw them on TV. There was more funny than scary about Yeltsin. And probably no one is laughing at Putin. They are afraid of Putin. But Putin laughed at the Chechen people? He humiliated him - with his “we’ll wet him in the toilet.” Chechens never hide in the toilet. And unlike Russians, not just soldiers, but even FSB officers, they don’t wear black masks on their faces. When a Chechen is arrested, the Russian occupiers put a sack over his head. Only so that people on television do not see the noble face of a slender Chechen warrior, and do not compare them with the vodka-swollen faces of mercenaries and square Russian generals. When did Putin's name first appear in the conversations of Chechens? What did they say about him then and now? Putin appeared when Yeltsin was choosing his successor. Nobody knew anything about him... Then they talked more about the mayor of Moscow Luzhkov and Primakov, but somehow they were very quickly forced into the shadows. This caused some concerns... Or rather, the method that was used was then incomprehensible to many. Now everything that was done at that time is clear and disgustingly simple. Could the Second Chechen War have been avoided? Dzhokhar did not have 20 minutes of life to end the war. That’s exactly how much time he needed, he said, to meet with Yeltsin and convince him to stop the war. Dzhokhar was not allowed to see the Russian president by his entourage. In the book “FSB is blowing up Russia,” there is a phrase from Litvinenko that “Russia will not be able to win this war.” Do you think so too? Or have the Chechens already lost? The Chechens did not lose, the resistance has been going on for 4-3 years, starting with Boris Godunov in 1604. The fact that Ramzan Kadyrov and Alu Alkhanov are now Kremlin proteges in Grozny, just as Khadzhiev and Zavgaev were there, does not change anything. They are really all temporary workers. This war cannot be stopped; it lasted for centuries. And now the struggle has already spread across the borders of Ichkeria: cleansing operations are taking place in Nalchik, Dagestan, and throughout the Caucasus. And Caucasians are a very proud people, and revenge for those killed or humiliated will still happen someday. There, nothing is forgiven as easily as in Russia. Because everyone has many relatives there. In Russia, everyone lives on their own; their son, the breadwinner, is killed, and that’s it. And in the Caucasus, behind each person there is a whole clan that remembers when they were killed, by whom and for what. (2) Are your children citizens of Russia according to their passport? Yes, unfortunately... But I’m ashamed to call myself Russian. I am ashamed of the bombings and massacres of civilians in Ichkeria, of torture in filtration camps. I don't like today's Russia. The Russians themselves are probably ashamed to appear in republics where there have been wars, because they are hated there. And deservedly so. For the actions of politicians, and Russian government The Russian people are suffering. And I feel sorry for him. Do you really think that Russians are ashamed? But soldiers continue and continue to go to Chechnya, all Russian films show terrible Chechens, indiscriminately slaughtering children and old people. Who's ashamed? Is Putin ashamed? Putin is not ashamed. People are ashamed that they cannot protect their children. Their sons are taken there by force. There is no way they can gather young conscripts throughout Russia. None Russian mother doesn't want this cruel thing to continue bloody war. And he probably doesn’t sleep at night: he prays just like a Chechen woman whose son is hiding in the mountains. There is an opinion that today among Russian conscripts there are hired killers. By the way, it is known from NATO video archives and from eyewitness accounts that during the war in the Balkans in the mid-90s, cleansing operations took place there, as is now the case in Chechnya. Then Russian volunteer detachments (RDO-1 and RDO-2) fought on the side of the Orthodox Serbs. They were also called “weekend Chetniks”. That is, this meant that the mercenaries “worked” from Monday to Friday, and on Friday evening the Serbian command pointed their finger somewhere on the map to a Muslim village where the “Russian Legion” could “rest” over the weekend. The mercenaries did whatever they wanted with these people: they raped women, they cut off the heads and genitals of men, they killed children... There is documented evidence of all this. And, judging by the facts set out in the book “The Second Chechen” by Russian journalist Anna Politkovskaya, who was killed in Moscow, all this is happening in Chechnya. What do you know about this? And about the mercenaries, you are absolutely right. During the first Chechen war, women and young men were not raped in this way in order to humiliate and insult the Chechens. This happens in filtration camps, heads and other body parts are cut off, and tortured - there are thousands of such cases. And you continue to claim that the Russian army is ashamed? Not the Russian army, but the Russian people. Not everyone is the same, and if they weren’t ashamed, then people like Anna Politkovskaya and Alexander Litvinenko wouldn’t appear. Take Yushenkov, who was shot, or Yuri Shchekochikhin, who was poisoned. Galina Starovoitova, Dmitry Kholodov, Vlad Listyev - these are all our defenders, they were all killed. The best representatives of the Russian people, who could explain, become teachers and lead, are being destroyed. And the bet is on the ignorance of the people, on the fact that many do not understand what is happening. And Russian propaganda works by calling Chechens international terrorists. But, in reality, the terrorist attacks were organized by Russia itself in order to start the Russian-Chechen war, the Russian special services themselves blew up houses in Moscow and Volgodonsk, and in Ryazan they did not have time. The first attempts on Dzhokhar Dudayev were organized by them. These were the first terrorist attacks, but we lost count of them back in 1994, when at night bombs were simply hung from trees or from the fences of public buildings. To destabilize the situation in the republic. Why did Europe, why did the world turn away from Chechnya? They didn't turn away. They are simply neutral. They watch indifferently as our people are destroyed and do not take any steps. And now Russian gas will go to Germany. What is surprising is that the small Chechen people are not afraid of Russia, but the whole of vast Europe is afraid. Do you think that the Chechen wars are happening because of money? The war is over oil, which means it is over money. They say that Russia is hiding the true oil reserves in Chechnya, of which there are much more than what is officially reported. Moreover, the oil is of the highest quality. (4) Your husband, Dzhokhar Dudayev - did he owe Russia? Why exactly was he killed? They just didn't want to Chechen Republic became free and managed the oil herself. IN Soviet period only five percent remained for the Chechen people, and the rest went to Moscow. The same thing happened in Ukraine. Living in Poltava, I was amazed that the collective farms were so rich, such a fertile, beautiful land, and yet in the shops there were only tails and ears from cows. One day I approached and asked the saleswoman: “Where is everything else, what’s in the middle?” She answered me: “Moscow is taking it.” Ukraine fed Moscow with meat, bread and milk, just as Chechnya feeds Russia with oil. Since we are talking about oil, they say that in Grozny you lived quite comfortably with your husband. What was your home like in Grozny? (laughs) My house in Grozny was no different from the houses that stood nearby. Perhaps just a big bush wild roses, which hung over our fence. Scarlet roses burned like lights; they could be seen from afar on Yalta Street. And so... An ordinary cottage, there were many of them nearby... of the same type. To buy half of this house, we had to sell our new Zhiguli. We sold the car and bought half of this cottage. But we did not live in the presidential residence, which was renovated and very beautiful. We received the family of Gamsakhurdia, the disgraced president of Georgia, to whom Dzhokhar invited him to live in the residence. Because guests in Ichkeria always have the best place. (3) Georgians, by the way, have the same approach to guests. Yes, I was in Georgia. Georgians are very interesting people. I like their courtyards, tight as swallows' nests. When we were refugees, we lived in one of these houses. A yard in which neighbors call to each other, calling for Georgian flatbread, is wonderful. Georgia has amazing women: very intelligent and educated. They visit each other, drink coffee and tell fortunes using coffee grounds. (laughed). Have you been told fortunes? They told me fortunes, yes. And everything they said came true. She wrote her book about all this. “I wrote it,” says Alla Dudayeva, “so that the Russian people would understand and love the Chechen people the way I love them. You know: there are a lot of reviews from Russians about my book on the Internet. I am very pleased that they understand me.” Russia has about one hundred thirty-six million people, and you think that a few reviews mean understanding? Fifteen years since 1991, the people who initially sympathized with us have changed. At the beginning, even the entire Union of Russian Cinematographers put its signatures against the Russian-Chechen war. But then a wave began with these fake terrorist attacks against the Chechen people, with the explosions of houses that Litvinenko spoke about. And systematic propaganda of war began. Outraged by these explosions, many Russians supported this war. And now people are slowly seeing the light. And many stopped believing that Chechens blew up houses in Moscow and killed children in Beslan. Look at the women of Beslan. They held court for two years to convict those who gave the order to shoot. After all, they witnessed what happened in Beslan, they know who directed the terrorists’ actions. This was a red-haired colonel of Slavic appearance, who gave orders in Russian to those who captured the school with him... This assault on the school was broadcast very little on Russian television, only special forces soldiers were shown carrying children. I'm familiar with full version the last conversation between Andrei Babitsky and Shamil Basayev, when he was still alive. Basayev did not deny that the seizure of the school was an operation planned by him. In this case, I can afford not to believe it. That is? Do you refuse to believe because it is not profitable for you? Not because. I know Shamil Basayev well and read his letter, published in one of the Chechen websites, he proposed to start negotiations with Russian President Putin. And he named a number of conditions, the last one he wrote was that for the sake of starting peace negotiations, he was ready to take upon himself the explosions of two houses in Moscow. Doesn't this make you think that Shamil could take upon himself the Beslan terrorist attack for what Moscow promised him? And take President Aushev (Ruslan Aushev, ex-president of Ingushetia, the only one who negotiated with the terrorists who seized the school, and brought out alive 26 small children and their mothers. - Ed.), who was one of the first to visit there. He was not one of those who was invited there by the Russian authorities, he simply came on the impulse of his heart. And he immediately published a message on all sites that there was not a single Chechen or Ingush there. Those who seized the school did not know either Chechen or Ingush. And any Chechen or Ingush knows their language from birth. In other words, the official version of the Beslan terrorist attack is very doubtful. Speaking then in Istanbul, I said that I did not believe that Shamil Basayev or his people took part in the seizure of the Beslan school. Despite the official ban Russian leadership, a federal Parliamentary commission to investigate the tragedy in Beslan was created, more than a month passed... And then, suddenly, Shamil’s statement suddenly appeared... As if to prevent the investigation from being carried out. If there is a secret, then who needs it... But you will not deny that there are terrorists among the Chechens. Nord-Ost, for example? In Nord-Ost there were indeed people recruited by Russia during the first war and Chechens and Chechen women deceived by them. They thought they were doing good for their people by sacrificing themselves for the sake of peace in Ikeria. They did this to stop the war and gave their young lives in vain. A certain Khanpasha Terkibaev took part there and left alive and unharmed. He himself openly talked about it. And he even worked under the Russian State Duma for some time. Later he was killed, apparently by the special services in Baku, however, according to official version Russian media, died in Ichkeria during a car accident. Have you ever asked yourself why it was necessary to finish off already gassed “terrorists” with a control shot in the head, because they no longer posed any danger? Nord-Ost is a terrorist attack that was organized by Russia itself within the country. But besides this, Russia commits terrorist attacks on the territory of the former republics of the USSR and even abroad. Take, for example, the murder of Zelimkhan Yandarbiev: this is clearly a terrorist act, and on an international scale. The actions of the Russian special services are becoming more and more daring... The poisoning of Alexander Litvinenko with radioactive polonium 210 can be called another act international terrorism. It is also outrageous that they are legalized by the latest, relatively recently adopted by the State Duma, two amendments on the destruction of terrorists and their accomplices abroad. England called the actions of the Russian special services "state terrorism." The widow of Dzhokhar Dudayev was forced to hide after the death of her husband. Family friends secretly transported her and her children first to Kiev, then to Lithuania. And all this time, she dreams of returning to Ichkeria - to be together with your people. Alla Fedorovna, when do your children and you plan to return to Chechnya? When it becomes free. I pray to Allah to live to see this happy event. I would not want the children to return there. They themselves are not very eager to go there now. I think a lot about this land and miss it very much. Probably because I have more memories. And I hope that peace negotiations will begin. Do you believe that these negotiations are possible today? Yes, I do. No in vain Dzhokhar gave his life for peace in Ichkeria... The best went to certain death with the belief that the dream of peace negotiations was feasible. And they were killed by Russia. But until the Russians come to an agreement with those who remained and are fighting in the mountains, there will be peace in the Chechen there will be no earth... Recently, the Russian press has become more active, and your name is again heard. What do you think this is connected with? This was to be expected. In 2003, I turned to the Estonian government with a request to grant me citizenship. The petition was considered for three years. Because of our family, a new decree was even adopted, according to which foreign citizens living on foreign territory can receive citizenship in a short time for special merits. I was pleasantly surprised by this news, because the special merits of Dzhokhar Dudayev were noted. I was really pleased, although it was no longer so relevant, because Lithuania gave me a permanent residence permit. The Russians really didn’t want the Estonian authorities to give citizenship to Dudayev’s family, there were comments in the press against our family. Now they've taken over us again. In the Baltic countries there are a lot of former KGB officers who have settled here from past times. And the same thing happens in Ukraine. By the way, about Ukraine. It is known that your husband served in Poltava in Soviet times. Were you on the territory of Ukraine immediately after the death of your husband? Yes, I came to Kyiv in 1996 at the most beautiful time... it was May, June. I was then with my son-in-law Movsud, he took me out of Moscow. I remember at that time the flag of Ukraine and the anthem of Ukraine were adopted. Yes, it was the Constitution of Ukraine that was adopted on June 28, 1996. I thought then that, of course, it is important that Ukrainians have their own anthem and your beautiful yellow-blue banner. Some deputies wanted to leave the banner in red, the communist color. For a very long time they could not come to a common decision. Therefore, the former president of Ukraine left the deputies in parliament all night, whatever they would decide... And the country waited... And suddenly at seven in the morning, music sounded on the radio - Nina Matvienko sang the song “Reve ta stogne Dnipro wide.” This meant that Ukrainian symbols won, the Ukrainian Constitution won. And there, in parliament, there were our friends, deputies who used to know Dzhokhar, and journalists. And we all rejoiced together! Just then Russia published in the press about “Dudayev’s wife missing from Moscow” and that I was put on the wanted list. I had to hide. And our Ukrainian friends, the deputies, thought for a long time about how to transport me to Lithuania. In the end, it was decided to take us for a while to the Carpathians, to Sheshory. This is one of the most famous Carpathian places... Your green mountains are not as high and rocky as the Caucasian ones. But the crystal streams flowing through the Carpathian gorges are very similar to the Ichkerian ones... I was amazed by the Ukrainian houses, similar to Easter gingerbread, so neat and beautiful. I remember how I came to Nikolai, with whom we lived, his brother and his wife. They told one story about the family of the commander, a Bandera member, who was shot on the banks of the Tysy River. He hid with his pregnant wife in a grotto above a stream, where she gave birth to a girl and handed her over to people. Someone betrayed them and a few days later, artillery from the opposite bank began to hit them with direct fire, they were covered with stones and they died. And this girl grew up and married her brother Nikolai. And I thought, my God, how the history of Ukraine and the Caucasus is repeating itself! You suffered just like us. Also, our resistance was hiding in Chechen forests and mountain villages when we were bombed Russian aviation . When we approached their grave the next day, with a simple wooden cross, I touched the flower wreath by its white paper petals. They seemed to wake up and tremble as if they were alive... something trembled in me in response to them. Probably my soul. Why didn’t you tell Litvinenko, when he interrogated you in 1999, where Dzhokhar’s grave was located? He didn't ask that. But even if I asked, I wouldn’t say. It was important for them to know that Dzhokhar was dead. And I was afraid that they might dig it up and mock the body. We deliberately buried him secretly, and few people know where the grave is. Do you know that the bodies of fallen commanders, like the bodies of Chechen prison prisoners, are not handed over to relatives. Apparently, to hide the facts of the beatings from which they died. But why don’t they hand over the body of Aslan Maskhadov, who died during the fighting? To hurt his relatives more. You have experienced the pain of losing your husband. When you remember him, what song sounds in your soul? I know that his soul is next to the Almighty, it is alive. But I would like to come to his grave and at least sometimes lay flowers... He seems so lonely to me. There is a Russian song based on the words of Sergei Yesenin, which sounds in my soul when I think about him. “You are my fallen maple, you are an icy maple, standing bent under the white snowstorm. Or what I saw, or what I heard, as if I had gone out for a walk on the road. I seemed to myself to be the same maple, only not fallen, but completely green.” Is there anyone to visit? Eat. But people don't know where he is buried. And even those who know will not come. Did your sons visit their father's grave? Yes they were. And I constantly communicate with Dzhokhar in my dreams. If I had not seen these dreams, it would have been much harder for me. I know that he is now much better than the rest of us. And on the first night after his death, I saw him, at a distance from the ceiling, when he had not yet flown so high. He lay there as if he was resting and his face was glowing... He was very handsome. I sat down next to him and said: “You feel good here, you are lying down, resting, but we don’t know what to do without you.” And he looked at me with love and tenderness, and said: “I deserve it. Now it’s your turn.”... and pushed me forward. And after this dream, I had the strength to give an interview where I stated the fact of his death. And I knew that now it was our turn. He alone bore the entire terrible burden of this war, encouraging those who had fallen in spirit. I think that events and time change people, in Russia people have changed, and now they finally understand what a cruel power they have. A power that does not even spare its own people! They are already beginning to experience what the Chechens experienced in Ichkeria when their hands were wringed and bags were put on their heads. Now Russians, just passers-by on the street, are stopped by police officers, forced to lie down on the asphalt and spread their legs. This is an endless humiliation of human dignity in order to finally suppress the will and turn Russians into powerless and silent slaves. Someone will break, but the strong in spirit will rise up... Otherwise, it will be as Dzhokhar said, “A slave who does not strive to break out of slavery is worthy of double slavery.” When were your sons born? My sons were born in Siberia, in Irkutsk region , Dzhokhar was then a senior lieutenant. And we were very happy when our first son, Ovlur, was born in 1969. And the second son, Degi, was born thirteen years later, in 1983. We also have a daughter, Dana, who was born between them. How did Dzhokhar perceive his first-born? Did you give flowers? There were no flowers because Ovlur was born on December 24th. At first we affectionately nicknamed him “kingfisher” - a winter bird. And, by the way, Ovlur, I only recently learned that it means “first-born lamb.” Such a rare name was given to him by Dzhokhar, one of his ancestors was Ovlur. You have three children and it seems you didn’t name anyone after your Russian ancestors? You know, I really like exotic names. By the way, many Chechens call their girls Lyuba, Zina, this is also probably exotic for them. And I took advantage of the fact that my husband is Chechen, and named my children beautiful Chechen names. Don't you think that today, if we talk about Chechnya, the Dudayev family is not as respected as it was in the beginning, in the mid-1990s? The Kadyrov surname, I think, has not become more respected than the Dudayev surname for the Chechen people. Because the Chechens do not take them seriously and treat them without much love. Our people have a long memory. For almost two hundred years, people remember the names - Shamil, who fought with Russia for 27 years, Sheikh Mansur, and Baysangur. And Dzhokhar died quite recently. The Chechen people have not forgotten him. Many people still hope that he is alive and will return. They compose songs and legends about him because they love him... These fairy tales and legends do not come from the walls of the FSB? Everything is intertwined here, the love of the people, their faith and hope coming from the heart, and... the benefit of the FSB to present him as a fugitive and a traitor. And now - even after his death - he is next to his people. There, in Chechnya, many of his friends and acquaintances remained. I know how hard it is for them, how difficult it is for them to live there and raise children now. When people came to us in Istanbul through Nalchik from Ichkeria or when they moved to Baku through fifty Russian checkpoints... with faces as white as snow, they looked like the living dead. Then they came to their senses. But a whole day had to pass before they started talking... But they didn’t say anything. They just said that now is a completely different time... They got used to being silent there, because for any word the whole family was sent to the filtration camp... The Chechen people were silenced. It is simply destroyed silently, without journalists, without newspapers, so that the world does not know the truth. Now the same thing is happening, but it’s worse because it’s happening behind the scenes. A genocide invisible to the world. If during the first war they even talked about an information victory, then after the murders of foreign journalists planned by the special services, people no longer wanted to go to Ichkeria and write the truth about it. Anna Politkovskaya was not afraid, and that is why she died. Tell me, what is this beautiful wicker rocking chair in which you are sitting now? This is Dzhokhar's chair. We bought it when we arrived in Tartu, for seventy rubles... then it was a large sum. And I am very pleased that it is still preserved. I believe that there will be a museum in Ichkeria, and there will definitely be this chair, there will be these books that we collected together with Dzhokhar. And all my pictures are about Chechen war written in his presence. He asked me not to give away paintings or sell them. Do you have these pictures with you? Yes, I have a lot of them. I saved them all. How did you manage to do this? During the first war, only half remained. I didn’t know then where to hide them, and I left one part in our house. The second part was taken to relatives and left in the barn of Dzhokhar’s niece, covered with sheets of plywood. Her house burned down, but the paintings were preserved in the barn. In our house, all my paintings were stolen. I found one of them in a puddle. This is an “Alpine Violet”, it had the footprints of huge soldiers’ boots on it. This is one of the first paintings painted in Tartu. But I washed it, I have it here. And during the second war, I, already wise from my first war experience, took the canvases out of the frames, rolled them into a tube and took them out in this way. Did you save Dzhokhar's things too? Of course, I took them out or distributed them to people. And those that are here are from our apartment in Tartu. We did not have time to transport them to Grozny, this saved them. The jugs I told you about are a memory of our peaceful life. And what are the traces of your military life? These are my paintings about the war, my book. I don’t show anyone photographs after the death of Dzhokhar and his letter... Why? I don’t want to scare people and make them sad. We are born for happiness in this life. When Allah created this world, he wanted it to be bright. But he made it so that we, the living, were scared to look at the corpses, at the dead faces. So that we fear death and go to him only after fulfilling our destiny on earth. Therefore, what is scary for the living has no meaning for the soul. When the soul flies away, it completely indifferently parts with its body. A beautiful shining world opens up for her, much better than our material one. I have often seen this world, which is why I am telling you about it with such confidence. Therefore these scary photos– photographs of temporary flesh. The soul is good people always remains alive... The Koran says “fear the second death”, the first is the death of the body, and the second is the death of the sinful soul, “there”, before God, for all your atrocities on earth. Allah, you never cry. All my tears burned away... I am inside, like the black trees of Grozny burned by the war. I haven’t cried since old Ahmad asked me to. The dead Dzhokhar lay dead at this old man’s house. Akhmat asked me not to cry, because his wife Leila has a bad heart, and her daughter is also sick. He didn’t want them to find out that the dead Dzhokhar was lying in their house. They also had a small house there in which they lived, and Dzhokhar lay in the big house. They didn't go there. Ahmad said that from my tears they could guess about Dzhokhar’s death and not survive it. They thought that one of the wounded was lying there. I had to break myself... And his wife, old Leila, looked at me with such kind, anxious eyes and asked with such hope: “Is Dzhokhar all right? He’s alive, right?” I answered: “Yes, he is alive, everything is fine with him.” She spoke about those who died next to him, whose deaths everyone already knew: “It’s a pity that Kurbanov Hamad, Magomed Zhaniev died... The main thing is that Dzhokhar remains with us. All our hopes are on him, together we will win. “So he didn’t die?” I answered: “No, he didn’t die.” I had to hold back with all my might, and then I strangled all my tears. Since then I haven't cried at all. And on the third day, when his comrades were saying goodbye to him, Shamil Basayev arrived. He asked everyone to leave, close the doors, and leave him and Dzhokhar alone. And although the door was closed, I heard him sobbing for a long time over his body. The others didn’t hear, but I was nearby, in the next room. It was as if we were all orphaned at once. Do you have letters from Shamil Basayev? Yes, just one thing. But this sheet is for my youngest grandson, also Shamil. On him big hand Shamilya Basayeva, circled by him with a ballpoint pen. (5) “As Salamu Alaikum, Allah! “Praise be to Allah, the Lord of the worlds, who created us Muslims and blessed us with Jihad on His Straight Path! Peace and Blessings to the Prophet Muhammad, his companions, and everyone who follows him on the Straight Path until the Day of Judgment! Having received a letter from you, I felt ashamed , that I did not write for so long, but limited myself to rare greetings. And even those, apparently, did not reach all of them. True, I was always aware of your affairs and was glad that everything was fine with you. If you can call life in a foreign land good, away from family and friends. Praise be to Allah, so that, apart from regretting my unpainted portrait, you will not have other problems and troubles. Portraits will be done in time, yes, and Islam does not recommend drawing living creatures. But we, Insha Allah, will discuss this issue at meeting, which, I hope, by the Grace of Allah will take place quickly. (...) Now the war has entered the final stage. When Putin practically received a license for the genocide of our people. Western democracy showed its rottenness and duplicity by bargaining at our expense. True, realizing that many did not understand them, they made a couple of meaningless statements, but this does not change the essence - our people are being destroyed with greater cruelty. But, as they say, we are no strangers to it. We, Insha Allah, will endure, will not break and will definitely win, so that the blood of the martyrs will not be shed in vain, and the suffering and deprivation of our people will not be in vain. Back in the fall of 1995, Dzhokhar said, “Why should we stop the war? Everything is destroyed and looted. We have nothing more to lose, and we will fight until we are completely freed from the oppression of Russia. We do not need half-hearted solutions! This now my credo. And I try to adhere to this. (...) But Putin cannot stop the war. She gave birth to him, she will kill him, Insha Allah! Moreover, Vovochka suffers from an inferiority complex, turning into delusions of grandeur. He is aiming, at least in Peter the Great, that’s why Peter is raising it. It sounds like “Path-1”, and Tatyana may soon become sister Sophia, imprisoned in a monastery. But, Insha Allah, times are different now, and he hasn’t grown tall enough. (...) For the most part I listen, and I am writing you this letter, begun before breaking the fast. I think you yourself will see the difference in what I wrote before breaking the fast and after. Before - there was more harshness, in my opinion, this is another confirmation There are sayings that the way to the heart, and therefore to the mood, lies through the stomach, but it is also said that truly the son of Adam cannot contain more evil than his stomach can accommodate. Therefore, I strive for moderation, although sometimes I regret that my stomach is not dimensionless. There is some truth in the joke. I have a flashlight on my head, tied with an elastic band, like a miner’s, only on the side. And so I write under bright neon lights. It's been snowing outside for two weeks now, everything around is white and white. There is coarse snow and frost on the trees and a whitish fog in the morning. The landscape is like in a fairy tale. When I see such pictures, I remember you and think: “It’s a pity that she’s not here to paint all this beauty.” True, whenever possible, I try to film everything beautiful. But still, most of all I have photographs of twisted and crippled trees , their lacerated wounds in shrapnel. In addition, I have a lot of photographs of our Mujahideen, I try to capture everyone in the photo. They have such beautiful faces. They even glow in a special way. Each has their own fate, their own path, experiences. I I love listening to them. Everyone has their own story, you can write a separate book about each. Now everyone laughs at one master of aphorisms. He says during disputes, “Everyone has his own trench,” “The same ladle,” “Everyone has the same kettle,” “The Mujahid is sleeping.” “Jihad is coming.” He’s sitting to my right...” - This place is not needed, okay? “...Last year he crossed the suspension bridge, very slowly, and when they hurried him, he said: “Wait, don’t rush, - I’m not a Chechen, I’m a human being. I can't do it fast." Now for the second year now we have been asking him: “Asadula, are the Chechens not people?” This is how we all live together. With Faith in victory and a speedy meeting. And now a few words to my namesake. As Salamu Alaikum, Shamilek! Once upon a time, your glorious grandfather Dzhokhar Dudayev called me “Shamilek,” and he slapped me on the neck twice with his “iron” hand and asked: “Shamilek! How are you?" I answered: “Now it’s already bad, because after such a greeting my neck hurt for a long time, since it was weak.” Now it's your turn to get slapped on the head. And when you grow up, then, thank Allah, I will slap you on the neck and ask you: “Shamilek, Gdukhash flour du?”, so I give you good advice: shake your neck, play and frolic a lot, eat well and sleep on time. And most importantly: listen to your mother and grandmother. Then we will get to know each other and become friends. If you cry a lot, are capricious, or are disobedient, then I will be very upset. And now, as a sign of greeting, I send you my handprint and tell you: " As Salamu zalaikum, Shamilek!” And may Allah help us on his straight path. Sincerely, Abdulah Shamil Abu-Idris! 12/23/01. Return address: Vedensky district, village. Gornoe, st. Lesnaya, dugout 1/1. Send me the book "The First Million" to this address. I'll be looking forward to it. Allahu Akbar! Truly Akbar!" Was Shamil your neighbor? Yes. But this was after the first war, after the death of Dzhokhar. Where did this information about the death of Basayev find you? Here in Lithuania. You know, I always see a dream first and I knew that something like this would happen news. That night, I saw evening, there was no sun. Big park, many flowers in pots, in the very center. But they were all dim and there was no joy from them. I planted some other flowers in a box next to this flowerbed. Many flowers always dream of sadness. And at the same time I saw four trees. They stood among other trees, only a little far away; they had no bark and no branches. They were completely naked, as if all their skin had been torn off along with the branches. And I thought four people died. But who? Then I saw a whirlwind spinning between me and the house, raising dust. It looked like a tornado, which meant it was carrying someone away. And this is also unexpected news. In the park between the flowerbed and this house, I saw traces of two or three cars that made a loop and drove away. This raised some doubts in me. And they still remain. What are the doubts? I thought that this happened with the participation of the FSB. That it was a set-up by them, because these cars turned around and drove back. Or maybe they were traitors. Was he killed by his bloodline (Chechens, Ingush), or not? What kind of bloodline does Shamil have among the Chechens? No no. I think it was an operation organized by Russian intelligence services. Of course, they have wanted to do this for a long time. They were often reproached for the fact that Shamil Basayev has not yet been caught.