| In London, Zakaev found himself between a drunk driver and a peeing passerby Last Friday, in a long series of criminal cases, at the Magistrates' Court on London's Bow Street, one was heard that some in Moscow hastened to call almost epoch-making.
Having dealt with the dashing car ride of a Nigerian who had taken a lot of weight on his chest, as well as with a passer-by who relieved himself in Piccadilly, Judge Timothy Workman, a typical British lawyer of about 50 years old, his glasses flashing , invited the people involved in the “Zakayev case” into a modest courtroom. It took him less than 10 minutes to announce the order of the Minister of Internal Affairs to begin the extradition procedure and, after interviewing representatives of the prosecution and defense, set the first hearing for February 14.
Zakaev was brought to London from Copenhagen by actress Vanessa Redgrave on December 5 last year. Released on bail of £50,000, he remains (like Panikovsky from The Golden Calf) “a man without a passport.” His freedom of movement and contacts is not limited, although he is obliged to spend the night in the house of Redgrave, who sheltered him, in the aristocratic district of Chelsea (his entire family moved in there a year ago).
The famous actress and Boris Berezovsky, who pays for the services of Zakaev’s lawyer, have made a lot of efforts to stir up the British public, which, by and large, is deeply indifferent to Zakaev, Chechnya, and even distant and incomprehensible Russia itself. In an endless series of interviews, the separatist emissary and former theater actor Zakayev was portrayed as nothing less than a famous actor (he soon began to be called nothing less than “the Chechen Laurence Olivier”), forced by the will of fate to take up arms to protect his people “from the crude Russian military machine.”
When it became clear that the psychological attack did not work, Zakaev’s defenders changed tactics. Now he has already been recommended as “Deputy Prime Minister of the Chechen Republic” and “plenipotentiary representative” of its “legally elected president.” It was time to issue a new, diplomatic one instead of the Soviet foreign passport seized by the police and delegate Mr. Zakayev to the UN or PACE.
However, the judicial system turned out to be immune to the emotional speeches of Redgrave and the liberal democratic baroness who joined her, MEP Sarah Ludford. On January 10, Great Britain recognized Russia as a party to the European Convention for the Suppression of Terrorism, and on January 30, Minister David Blunkett ordered the initiation of extradition proceedings for the “Chechen Olivier” and the “Deputy Prime Minister.”
Thus, a repetition of the Danish option, when, after keeping Zakaev under lock and key for a month, the authorities found the documents presented by Russia “insufficient” and refused to take the case to court, did not take place. But in Britain, extradition cases can last for months or years (Pinochet's trial lasted 500 days). The dissatisfied party always has the opportunity to appeal to higher authorities, right up to the House of Lords, until the paper is finally signed by the Minister of the Interior.
On February 14, Judge Timothy Workman just needs to make sure that the prosecution and defense have prepared all the necessary documents, after which he will determine when the court can begin hearings on the merits of the case. Although the courthouse is located next to the famous Royal Opera House in Covent Garden, the “Chechen Olivier” is unlikely to be able to stage a political performance. On Bow Street, only criminal cases are heard, and the “deputy prime minister of the legitimate government” will have to come to terms with the fact that his place is between a tipsy driver and a passer-by urinating in the wrong place. Boris IZMAILOV, London |
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