Kafkaesque. The former Russian oil tycoon, who stood up to Putin, is back before his judges. Here is the story. [The following is a translation of an article published in the French publication Le Point.]

Le Point, October 15, 2009

Accused Khodorkovsky, Stand Up!

From our special envoy Marc Nexon

He stands up, opens his spiral notebook and pulls out 3 sheets of paper he has scribbled with his fine handwriting. He pats the microphone installed in his glass cage. “Can you hear me?” he asks, addressing the judge. Then he starts with a clear voice: “I know that in his eyes I embody absolute evil, but I would like to ask quietly a few questions to the witness of the prosecution…” Mikhail Khodorkovsky, 46 years old, formerly the richest man of Russia, has a pale face and his gray hair is cut short. He is wearing a black sweatshirt, rather wide jeans, and a belt made of a red thin cord and has plastic shoes on. After each question he takes a sip of water. He smiles. He savours the moment. He will need only 30 minutes to dismantle the charge against him that is the theft of 350 million tons of oil between 1998 and 2003. It is almost the equivalent of the annual Russian oil production! A grotesque charge at the heart of a trial opened seven months ago. This trial’s aim is to maintain behind bars the former oil tycoon, who has become the most famous political prisoner of Russia.

That day, Khodorkvosky scores. With no consequences. He knows that
the State is holding on to him. And it does not want to let him go.
“Look, some businessmen were heavily sentenced, to 150 years in the
United States”, recently stated Russian President Dmitry Medvedev about
the case.

His crime? He stood up to Vladimir Putin in the early 2000’s. How?
He signed checks of several tens of millions iof dollars to the
opposition. At that time, the man is worth 15 billion dollars. He is
intelligent and cultivates Western looks with no tie and wears
thin-framed glasses. He is the head of Yukos oil company, the most
powerful company in the country, even able to hire managers from
America.

For the regime, Khodorkovsky became a threat. He was arrested on
October 25, 2003, right off the plane. Igor Sechin, former KGB and
Putin’s devoted servant, conceived his case. A godsend: the Russian
oligarchs have all built their industrial empires through this rigged
privatization. The oil tycoon is not an exception to the rule. The
sentence falls: eight years of prison for tax fraud. He was transferred
to a Siberian prison, near Chita, in the land of the former Gulag. An
icy period punctuated by punishments and episodes of solitary
confinement.

As for his company, it sunk. It was dismantled for the
benefit of Putin’s new oligarchs.

Judicial Farce. But that’s not all. As he could hope to be released by
the end of 2011, on the eve of the next presidential election, he is
again facing his judges. He is threatened, this time, by a penalty of
twenty-two years of imprisonment! “They want to keep me until my
death”. The prosecution case? A jumble of 4000 pages seized at the
headquarters of his former group including dry-cleaning receipts,
trivial notes from secretaries indicating where they had put away the
keys to their offices. “An accumulation of nonsense,” said his lawyer,
Vadim Klyuvgant. And eventually, a ridiculous complaint for oil
embezzlement for a value of 25 billion dollars. “I sincerely tried to
prevent the investigators from making themselves ridiculous,” says
Khodorkovski. In vain…

But the judicial farce takes place every day at the Khamovnicheski
court in Moscow, on the third floor of a dilapidated building.
According to a well-established ritual, around 10 am, three policemen
enter room N° 7. They release a German shepherd in charge of detecting
who knows what. Then spectators are asked to group themselves in the
staircase. Coming down from upstairs, three members of the Special
Forces dressed in black, Kalashnikovs slung over their shoulders. Then
come, after them, Mikhail Khodorkovsky and Platon Lebedev, another
former Yukos manager, prosecuted for the same complaints. Both have
their wrists handcuffed and are escorted by two policemen. There is a
burst of applause in the courtroom. The defendants respond with a smile
and sit down in the “aquarium”, a cell with bulletproof glass,
especially designed for them with two openings allowing them to
communicate with their lawyers. “The policemen on duty can hear
everything they say,” says Elena Lipster, one of the defenders.

That day, the courtroom, as small as a classroom, is quickly packed. A
woman has put yellow roses on the desk of the lawyers. Khodorkovsky’s
parents are there, sitting on a bench. Boris, the father,
physically-weak, sends a wink to his son. His mother, Marina
Filippovna, 73 years old, sketches on her calendar the portrait of
members of the accusation, caricaturing them with angel wings. “If the
trial lingers on, it might mean that they do not agree at the top of
the state,” she reassures herself. Nearby, there is also a high school
mate whom Khordorkovsky greets with a friendly wave. And supporters
like Natella, a small retiree wearing a golden jacket. “My girlfriends
think I’m crazy, but I’m here because this man wanted to defend
democracy.”

Then come the prosecutors, including Valeri Lakhtine, a bony face
stooped in his royal blue uniform. To his left, sits his assistant
dressed in a miniskirt, wearing suede boots, and constantly readjusting
her ring adorned with a black stone. Finally comes the judge, Victor
Danilkine, known for his phrase: “Speak more slowly so that the Clerk
can take notes!”

And facing them, the witness of the day, Eugene Rybin, a big ruddy man
strapped in a striped suit, former manager of a firm bought by Yukos.
The day before, he accused Khodorkovsky of having attempted four times
to murder him. He also accuses him to have orchestrated the theft of
oil by trickery with the price. The only problem is: there is no
evidence to backup his allegations. “Have you had any psychological
pressure to testify in this regard?” asked the prosecutor, anxious to
vindicate himself. “Not at all, I have done everything possible to
speed up the investigation. “Everyone knows he’s a crook!” whispers
Khodorkovsky’s mother. “An interesting client at last!” says in triumph
in the corridor a journalist from RIA Novosti, the Russian news agency.

Now Khodorkovsky seeks permission to examine the witness. “Don’t get
angry but I would like to discuss with you since you say you have known
the oil industry for twenty years. »Do you know the scientific name of
the product coming out of an oil well? – I don’t know. – The percentage
of water which is contained in this product? – I don’t know. – Does the
Urals grade for crude oil ring a bell to you? – No. The former
millionaire turns to the judge: “It’s the equivalent of the letter A
for someone who learns how to write.” “Stop humiliating the witness!”
growls the prosecutor almost jumping off his chair. Khodorkovsky then
details the flow of oil all the way to the pipelines. And the witness
suddenly admits it seems difficult to steal large quantities of oil.
There, he is trapped. “Brilliant demonstration! The prosecution witness
becomes the one of the defence!” exults lawyer Vadim Klyuvgant. One of
his colleagues gets up and rushes to the blonde from RIA Novosti and
asks: “You have noted that, haven’t you?”

The prosecutor Valeri Lakhtine drops his pen and takes a look at his
witness, swinging his head from right to left. He is shattered.

The session ends. Pensive, the judge looks at the blind of a window
over his glasses, stifles a yawn and looks at his watch. “The trial
resumes tomorrow,” he says. The prosecutor closes his laptop that he
never looked at, and strides off with tons of documents in his arms.
Both defendants are hysterical with laughter. Khodorkovsky even bows
before the witness like a champion who thanks the loser. The witness
leaves the room, furious. “We can see that in prison they have time to
prepare their defence … You will see, they will be found guilty,” he
says, striking back.

In a corner of the court, a commando dressed in black, in charge of
bringing the defendants back to their cells speaks up: “What a bore,
here! At least in the Caucasus, there’s some shooting!”

With Katia Swarovskaya (Moscow)

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