On Dec 4, 8:01 am, " wrote:
VOICE OF DISSENT

Our Struggle Against Tyranny

I was treated reasonably well in jail this past week. But I didn't
dare eat the food.

BY GARRY KASPAROV

Sunday, December 2, 2007 12:01 a.m. EST

For years the governments of the U.S. and Europe have tried to accept
Vladimir Putin's Russia as an equal. Western diplomats now acknowledge
that there are differences between Russia and the West, but say these
differences are minor, and--in the words of one European Union
official--within an "acceptable range." For me and for a dozen of my
associates last week, that "acceptable range" was 120 square feet.
That's the size of the jail cell I occupied for five days as
punishment for "disobeying the orders of a police officer" at an
opposition rally in Moscow last Saturday. That's the charge a Moscow
district court added after the fact, a charge not mentioned in the
handwritten testimony of the arresting officers.

This was the least conspicuous of the many curious aspects of my
arrest and trial. After our rally of several thousand people, we
attempted to meet up with another group led by well-known human rights
leader Lev Ponomarev. From there we intended to deliver a petition of
protest to the office of the Central Election Committee. The police
had blocked the underground pedestrian passageways, so we had to cross
the broad street instead and were soon blocked by more police. When
they moved in close, I spoke with commanding officer Maj. Gen.
Vyacheslav Kozlov, whom I had met previously. He warned us to turn
back, saying we would not be allowed to approach the CEC offices. I
offered to send a small delegation of 20 people to present the
petition. He again told us to turn back, which we did. Of course it is
inaccurate to say that the police commander was the one in command.
KGB officers in plain clothes were clearly in charge even at the
police station, and the arrest itself was as choreographed as the
trial to come. When the special security forces known as OMON pushed
in past everyone else to arrest me, we could all hear "make sure you
get Kasparov" on their walkie-talkies.

From the moment of our detention, we were not allowed to see our
lawyers, even when charged at the police station. Three hours into the
trial, the judge said it would be adjourned to the following day. But
the judge then left the bench and returned to say that we had misheard
her, and that my trial would go forward. No doubt another example of
what we call "telephone justice."

As in the street and at the police station, the KGB and the OMON
forces were in control. The defense was not allowed to call any
witnesses or to present any materials, such as the videos and photos
journalists had taken of the march and the arrests. After the show
trial was over, I was taken to the police jail at Petrovka 38 in
Moscow, and here the procedural violations continued. Not with regard
to my treatment, which was respectful and as hospitable as a small box
with metal furnishings and a hole in the floor for a toilet can be. I
wasn't allowed a phone call and all visitors were refused access. Even
my lawyer Olga Mikhailova and Duma member Vladimir Ryzhkov were
forbidden to visit me, despite having the legal right to do so. My
world chess champion predecessor, Anatoly Karpov, for years my great
rival, generously attempted to pay me a visit but was also turned
away. My other concern was food, since it was out of the question to
consume anything provided by the staff. (Nor do I fly Aeroflot.
"Paranoia" long ago became an obsolete concept among those in
opposition to the Putin regime.)

On Sunday, thanks to growing external pressure, they allowed me to
receive food packages from home. In a fitting conclusion, even my
release was handled illegally. Instead of letting me out at the jail
into the crowd of media and supporters, many of whom had themselves
been arrested and harassed while picketing, I was secretly taken to
the police station where I was first charged. From there I was taken
in a colonel's automobile all the way to my home. This may sound like
good service, but it was obvious the authorities wanted to avoid the
festive scene that would have occurred outside the jail. When I was
arrested last April and fined $40, some poked fun at the trivial
amount. And five days in a Moscow jail is not the worst fate that can
be imagined. Some commentators even suspected I wanted to provoke my
own arrest for publicity, a chess player's far-sighted strategy. First
off, the penalty is not the point; the principle is. Are we to have
the rule of law in Russia or not? Second, I have no intention of
becoming a martyr, or in leading an opposition movement from prison. I
had no illusions and now I can confirm it is not a pleasant place to
be.

And this is not chess, with its cold-blooded calculations. This is
about honor and morality. I cannot ask people to protest in the
streets if I am not there with them. At the rally on Saturday, I said
our slogan must be "We must overcome our fear," and I am obliged to
stand by these words. It is also essential to point out that these
arrests are only the tip of the iceberg. Such things are taking place
all over Russia on a daily basis. Opposition activists--or just those
who happen to be in the way of the administration--are harassed and
arrested on false charges of drug possession, extremism, or the latest
trend, for owning illegal software. There is little doubt today's
parliamentary elections will be as fixed as my trial. The presidential
elections on March 2 will be a different sort of performance, more
improvised, since even now Mr. Putin and his gang are not sure how to
resolve their dilemma. The loss of power could mean the loss of
fortune and freedom. Outright dictatorship would endanger their
lucrative ties with the West. The campaign rhetoric of Mr. Putin and
his supporters is genuinely frightening.

Here we have an allegedly popular president who dominates the media,
the parliament and the judiciary. He and his closest allies are in
total control of the nation's wealth. And yet his recent speeches are
hysterical rants about "enemies within" and "foreign antagonists"
trying to weaken Russia--language characteristic of totalitarian
states. So far this campaign has been largely ineffective, at least in
my case. During my five days in jail I had the chance to speak to many
of the ordinary consumers of Kremlin propaganda. They were generally
sympathetic, and showed no signs of believing the many lies the
Kremlin and the youth groups it sponsors have spread about the
opposition. For them I was still the Soviet chess champion and the
idea that I was an "American agent" sounded as ludicrous as it is.

So why is Mr. Putin so scared if things are going so well? He is a
rational and pragmatic person, not prone to melodrama. He knows the
numbers, so why the heavy and heavy-handed campaigning if he knows he
and United Russia are going to win? The answer is that he is very
aware of how brittle his power structure has become. Instead of
sounding like a Tsar, high above the crowd, he's beginning to sound
like just another nervous autocrat. As George Bernard Shaw wrote, "The
most anxious man in a prison is the governor."

So demagoguery it is and demagoguery it will be. A violent pro-Putin
youth group, Nashi, has already released a poster celebrating Mr.
Putin's "crushing victory" on December 2. It also warns against the
"enemies of the people of Russia," myself included, attempting to
disqualify the results. These terms jibe nicely with Mr. Putin's own
rhetoric of threats and fear. The ground is being prepared for greater
oppression. The Other Russia will continue our activities because,
simply, some things are worth fighting for and will not come without
being fought for. All of the "minor differences" between Mr. Putin's
Russia and the nations of the free world add up to one very large
difference: that between democracy and tyranny.

Mr. Kasparov, a leader of the Other Russia coalition, is a former
world chess champion and a contributing editor of The Wall Street
Journal.

Well, based on my troubles with FIDE, I understand Gary's position.
It pretty much makes sense: we can't play in the World Chess
Championship and Gary gets thrown in jail without a adquate legal
protections, namely, a defense attorney. The Russians understand
and respect only strength. I suspect Gary's days are numbered.

Marcus Roberts
Peramanent Delegate of St Kitts and Nevis to FIDE