A ruthless ruler who died the hard way

Julius Strauss, who recently interviewed Akhmad Kadyrov, found a leader with little thought for the niceties of human rights. He was killed yesterday in a massive bomb.

10 May 2004

AKHMAD Kadyrov, the mufti turned president who was killed by a huge bomb in a stadium in Grozny yesterday, ruled Chechnya for four years with an iron fist.

He was backed up by a Russian military force tens of thousands strong and an intelligence service that used tactics not seen in Russia since the 1950s.

With his younger son and security chief, Ramzan, he imposed a rule of fear that was draconian, even by Chechen standards.

A hint or a whisper could be enough to bring a night-time visit from nameless armed men in black masks, members of the "kadyrovtsy", a force several thousands strong that made its name with torture and violence in a country long since innured to suffering.

Six weeks ago I travelled to eastern Chechnya to seek out Mr Kadyrov, and in one of the last interviews before his assassination put to him the charges that his men were out of control. But he replied with gruff dismissal.

"Abductions happen," he said. "We look for the people who disappear. But we have many organisations operating here.

"There are many bandits who carry false IDs pretending to be my bodyguards. But it is not difficult to forge IDs on a computer"

Even approaching the president's offices was difficult in a country where checkpoints are ubiquitous.

The Russian authorities have forbidden journalists from travelling to Chechnya except on arranged trips. But by keeping a low profile it is still possible to work in the shattered country.

In the town of Gudermes, huge black-and-white bollards closed off the streets where Kadyrov had his offices. Armed men milled at both ends, guns at the ready.

But the president was not at work. Next we tried Tsenteroi. Kadyrov's once down-at-heel village, now a virtual fortress guarded by infantry, armour and helicopters.

The road was blocked by endless checkpoints - some controlled by Russian special forces, others by the president's Chechen henchmen. With my Chechen guide, we wheedled and bluffed our way through.

At the entrance to Tsenteroi itself was a smartly painted barrier, a small guardhouse and fierce-looking men in pressed uniforms. Slogans had been painted on signs and attached to poles. "Death to terrorists and Wahhabis," read one. Another railed against drug dealers.

The president's house, on a small curving road, was unostentatious - a medium-sized white building with orange tiles. Hosts of Kalashnikov-carrying men in new uniforms and expensive boots stood around spitting sunflower seeds into the dirt by the roadside.

A dozen small children ran around them with plastic guns shooting pellets at each other. A flag carried the emblem of United Russia - President Vladimir Putin's party. A poster of Ramzan Kadyrov was stuck to a Lada Samara with smoked-glass windows.

After half an hour the president arrived in a convoy of clean, white Russian-made Volgas. An hour later I was searched and ushered in. There had been no appointment and no arrangement but Chechens pride themselves on their hospitality and an interview was granted.

We sat across a lace-covered table - no aides and no bodyguards. I put it to him that his men were little better than paid thugs. But he shrugged off the accusations.

"When I was in America recently they asked questions about my son, about basements and prisons," he said. "But my son is a senior lieutenant in the militia.

"He is a senior lieutenant of the police force, the head of my security guards, a commander. Why in the last elections he was even head of Mr Putin's election campaign headquarters in Chechnya."

In many towns of Chechnya even the president's name was enough to strike fear into the hearts of civilians. A visit from his squads could lead to months of beatings or a short, violent death.

Only days before I met her in late March, Madina's son Aslan (both names changed) had been beaten to a pulp by Kadyrov's men in a holding cell that did not officially exist.

A group of interrogators led by Ramzan Kadyrov, who yesterday stood next to Mr Putin as he addressed the nation, systematically broke his ribs with rods. When I travelled to her hometown in western Chechnya and asked Madina if her son had recovered, she began to shake with fear.

"The president is good, the president is good," she said, spluttering. "We all love him. Everything in Chechnya is fine, just fine. Life is good now, very good."