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The Moscow Times, Russia
Feb 9 2009
Solving the Mystery of Yerevan's Brutal Chaos
09 February 2009
Almost a year ago, I arrived in Yerevan just as the Armenian capital
was engulfed by brutal chaos. Armed police and protesters fought
running battles through the city streets during a night of
unrestrained violence that left 10 people dead.
On the road to the city, I saw a long, ominous line of army trucks
carrying troops from their barracks toward the capital, a clear sign
that the authorities were mobilizing their forces to deal with the
demonstrators.
When I got to the scene of the demonstration, furious protesters had
already built barricades and were making petrol bombs and arming
themselves with staves, while grim-faced policemen were lining up
their riot shields just a few meters away, getting ready to move
in. Soon afterward, missiles started to fly and tracer bullets lit up
the night sky.
Armenia is still trying to come to terms with what happened on that
horrific night last March, and seven opposition figures, including a
former foreign minister, are currently on trial on charges of
masterminding the violence in an attempt to seize power by force.
At the prosecutor's office, I was given transcripts of surveillance
tapes recorded by the security services. In a typical exchange just
before the protesters started gathering, one opposition leader asks,
"So what are we doing now?" Another responds: "Well, don't know. Come
up with a shared decision." The first says, "Would be better if more
people go there." That, insists the prosecutor, is proof of a "closely
developed plan" to overthrow the government.
But the wife of one of the defendants told me a very different
story. She insisted that this was a show trial and described the men
as political prisoners. "I think they are heroes because they want
their country to be free, and they're willing to go to jail for that
and stay in jail for as long as it takes," she declared.
For those who lost sons or husbands that night, no court case can end
the grief. The mother of one 23-year-old victim, who was shot in the
head, told me that she was still upset that no official had offered
her condolences. A picture of the young man stood behind her on a
table, surrounded by religious icons. "Every day I remember that
night," she said quietly. "I couldn't believe he was killed. I told my
husband that he was mistaken, maybe that was someone else's body in
the morgue. I cannot forget."
Matthew Collin is a journalist based in Tbilisi.
Feb 9 2009
Solving the Mystery of Yerevan's Brutal Chaos
09 February 2009
Almost a year ago, I arrived in Yerevan just as the Armenian capital
was engulfed by brutal chaos. Armed police and protesters fought
running battles through the city streets during a night of
unrestrained violence that left 10 people dead.
On the road to the city, I saw a long, ominous line of army trucks
carrying troops from their barracks toward the capital, a clear sign
that the authorities were mobilizing their forces to deal with the
demonstrators.
When I got to the scene of the demonstration, furious protesters had
already built barricades and were making petrol bombs and arming
themselves with staves, while grim-faced policemen were lining up
their riot shields just a few meters away, getting ready to move
in. Soon afterward, missiles started to fly and tracer bullets lit up
the night sky.
Armenia is still trying to come to terms with what happened on that
horrific night last March, and seven opposition figures, including a
former foreign minister, are currently on trial on charges of
masterminding the violence in an attempt to seize power by force.
At the prosecutor's office, I was given transcripts of surveillance
tapes recorded by the security services. In a typical exchange just
before the protesters started gathering, one opposition leader asks,
"So what are we doing now?" Another responds: "Well, don't know. Come
up with a shared decision." The first says, "Would be better if more
people go there." That, insists the prosecutor, is proof of a "closely
developed plan" to overthrow the government.
But the wife of one of the defendants told me a very different
story. She insisted that this was a show trial and described the men
as political prisoners. "I think they are heroes because they want
their country to be free, and they're willing to go to jail for that
and stay in jail for as long as it takes," she declared.
For those who lost sons or husbands that night, no court case can end
the grief. The mother of one 23-year-old victim, who was shot in the
head, told me that she was still upset that no official had offered
her condolences. A picture of the young man stood behind her on a
table, surrounded by religious icons. "Every day I remember that
night," she said quietly. "I couldn't believe he was killed. I told my
husband that he was mistaken, maybe that was someone else's body in
the morgue. I cannot forget."
Matthew Collin is a journalist based in Tbilisi.