BLACK OCTOBER: MOSCOW ON THE BRINK OF CIVIL WAR

      FRIDAY, October 1, 1993 --  After 10 days, there's still no sign of an end to the dramatic challenge to the reformist government of President Boris Yeltsin in Moscow.

      Instead, it appears to be getting even more intense. The rebels – including nostalgic Communists, Afghan war veterans, neo-Nazis and neo-National Cossacks – seem determined to continue the uprising they started by barricading themselves inside the Parliament building, known as "the White House."

      Yet their action in Russia’s capital city also exudes an air of theater – theater of the absurd. People try to go on with their usual business in a "wild West" economy with rampant inflation. It's been underway 10 days, and a dramatic challenge to the reformist government of President Boris Yeltsin appears to be getting even more  intense in Moscow.

      Seeing Yeltsin on the defensive now is a stark reminder of how quickly things can change in this global superpower. Only a little more than two years have passed since Yeltsin took charge after helping to end the leadership of Mikhail Gorbachov, who was praised for helping to end the Cold War and improving human rights, but criticized for the collapse of the Soviet Union.

      Yeltsin's opposition is led by Vice President Alexander Rutskoy, an Afghan war vet, and House Speaker Ruslan Khasbulatov, an economics professor.

     In an apparent war of nerves, Yeltsin seems ever so gradually to be taking steps to suffocate the rebels -- first by stopping the water supply, then by cutting off the electricity.

      Each day, I've gone to view the uncanny scene outside the White House. It's only a 10-minute walk from my office at the Belgian embassy, where I serve as the chief diplomat.

      I got inside once with a younger, Russian-speaking colleague by flashing my old diplomatic entry permit, a “propusk,” and slipping past edgy militants, who were angry at a Western camera crew and yelling: “You create bad image of us!”

      With no electricity, the only light in the hall of the Supreme Soviet came from candles on the desks of delegates. There was a proposal to impeach Yeltsin, but no voting yet because some delegates were still coming on their way to Moscow. 

       Outside the building, there was a tragic-comic effort to form a volunteer militia – with short rows of would-be fighters lined up in front of commanders. That must be Rutskoy's embryonic army. There were swastikas on some uniforms, and talk of a vast Jewish and U.S. plot to break down the empire.

      Saturday – A last-ditch mediation attempt appears to be going nowhere. Sure enough, fighting breaks out in the evening when some demonstrators try to block a road. Unarmed troops of the Ministry of the Interior seem to be no match for violent hard-liners, led on by determined provocateurs.

      Sunday – A splendid autumn sky and we have British visitors, so my wife Beatrice and I take them to see the 18th century wooden Sheremetyevo palace on the outskirts of the city.

      When we return, the street to our apartment is blocked by police, who expect a demonstration. After persuading them to let us go home, we quickly turn on our TV for reports by the BBC, CNN, Euronews and anything we can catch on Russian channels.

      It's soon evident that there's been heavy fighting. A security cordon around the White House retreated in panic. A confident Rutskoy is shown with a megaphone and shouting commands: “Women step aside! Men, fall into battle detachments. Forward to the Mayor’s office. They have their nest in it.”

      The style is vintage October 1917.

      We also learn that the nearby Mayor’s office building is under the control of Rutskoy militants.

      What's going on here? Is the balance of power shifting toward Rutskoy? Is Yeltsin falling victim to his own non-violent approach? Can it be the end of another short-lived Russian experiment with democracy? Could Yeltsin's free market reforms have caused poverty and insecurity in layers of the population?

      Outside, there's shouting and a car-horn concert on Prospect Mira, a wide avenue leading to the north of the city center. I run down and catch sight of an angry mob behind red flags, apparently heading toward the Ostankino TV studios. One red babushka with a communist flag on her shoulder is excitedly haranguing a crowd of onlookers. “We’re finishing off Yeltsin. It’s the people’s turn again…!” 

      Eventually, the adversaries come face to face at the Ostankino TV studios. It turns into an outright shooting war. 

      Many people are killed during the confrontation.

As early evening darkness engulfs the city, Russia’s fate seems to hang by the thinnest of threads.

      To monitor events better, I go to the embassy, an ideal location half-way between the heavily-fortified Kremlin complex and the White House. After sending a status report to the foreign ministry in Brussels, I try to get a little rest. But because we have no television, I stay near a telephone. I've told Beatrice to watch TV at home and call to keep me informed.

      Sunday, October 3 -- A splendid autumn sky. We have British friends visiting us, so my wife Beatrice and I take them to see the 18th century wooden Sheremetyevo palace on the outskirts of the city.

      Upon our return, we find police blocking the street to our apartment. They expect a demonstration. It takes a bit of convincing to get them to let us pass. At home., we quickly turn on the TV for news reports by the BBC, CNN, Euronews and anything we catch on Russian channels.

       It's soon evident that there's been heavy fighting. A security cordon around the White House has retreated in panic. A confident Rutskoy is shown with a megaphone and  shouting commands:  “Women step aside! Men, fall into battle detachments. Forward to the Mayor’s office. They have their nest in it.” 

      The style is vintage October 1917. 

      We also learn that the nearby Mayor’s office building is under the control of Rutskoy militants. 

      What's going on here? Is the balance of power shifting toward Rutskoy? Is Yeltsin falling victim to his own non-violent approach? Can it be the end of another short-lived Russian experiment with democracy? Could Yeltsin's free market reforms have caused poverty and insecurity in several layers of the population? 

      For months, we've been speculating about worst case scenarios in our cables to the foreign ministry in Brussels.

      Later, there's shouting and a car-horn concert outside on Prospect Mira, a wide avenue leading to the north of the city center. I run down and catch sight of an angry mob, marching behind red flags and apparently on its way to take over the Ostankino TV studios.

      A red babushka, with a communist flag over her shoulder, excitedly harangues a small crowd of onlookers. “We’re finishing off Yeltsin. It’s the people’s turn again…!”

      Some youths call her a stupid communist. Others give her a cynical smile. She goes on indignantly, crossing the St. Petersburg railway bridge to rejoin the marchers.

      Eventually, the adversaries face off at the Ostankino TV studios.  It turns into an outright shooting war. Heavily armed Yeltsin security forces surprise the demonstrators, arriving before them and taking positions in the building. 

       Many people die during the confrontation.

      As early evening darkness engulfs the city, Russia’s fate appears to hang by the thinnest of threads.

      To monitor events better, I go to the embassy, an ideal location half-way between the heavily-fortified Kremlin complex and the White House. After sending a report to the foreign ministry in Brussels, I try to get a little rest but stay near a telephone. There's no television , so I rely on Beatrice  to watch at home and call to keep me informed. 

                                            - o -

      Monday, October 3 --  All quiet at 4.30 a.m. as I read a batch of incoming cables, including one that tells me our minister of foreign affairs expressed support for Yeltsin and condemned the violence initiated by demonstrators.

      But conditions in the city are worrisome. I hear one of my co-workers on a phone with his wife, trying to comfort her in the apartment where they live with two children . It is near the Ostankino studios. Snipers are still active there. Tracer bullets have been flying by their balcony for hours, and the poor woman nearly had a nervous breakdown.

      I’m eager to look around the city and gauge the mood in different areas. So, after putting a diplomatic pennant on my Audi for added security, I drive out of our embassy compound, passing a surprised militiaman at our gate. 

      At nearby Tass building, I see nothing unusual despite a rumor that it’s been seized by rebels. I speed down the eerily empty New Arbat Boulevard and go across the Ring Boulevard near the American Embassy until I get close to the White House and stop, 

      The scene there is stunning.

      About 200 meters ahead, I can see a long line of trucks and busses sealing off the boulevard. Is it Communism’s last stand? Is the stage set for Yeltsin’s ‘High Noon’ with the old pro-Soviet guard?

      Behind the wall of vehicles, I see people standing near bonfires to warm their hands in the cold and I get out of my car, unaware that I must be within shooting range of rebels holding the Mayor’s office building to my right.

      I want to absorb as much as possible as I witness this high-density moment in history. Has Russian fatalism and Stoicism rubbed off on me after a year of working in this restless country, a nation forever in transition?

      Moving on toward the defense ministry at the Kremlin, I come to a street blocked by armored personnel carriers. Young soldiers are watching me in the first morning light. Perhaps the strong military presence is good news for the Yeltsin camp.

      Trying another approach to the Kremlin, I'm stopped  again -- this time by a 2-meter high barricade of building material, wooden boards and paving stones. Students are singing patriotic songs. Bonfires are burning.

      A scene out of the French Revolution?

      I can't tell which side they’re on until they put a large tricolor Russian flag at the top of the barricade. It’s the symbol of the new reformist Russia. It means they are trying to keep anti-Yeltsin forces away from the Kremlin.

      With a sigh of relief, I head to Tverskaya Street, home of Moscow’s most expensive shops. But there is another barricade, this one spanning the entire width of the road.

      There’s also an enormous crowd. These people must be responding to Vice-PM Yegor Gaidar’s nightly appeal to back Yeltsin. There are no security forces is sight.

      At that point, I realize  everything is possible now:

      Power over this gigantic Eurasian landmass, with 10 time zones and packed with nuclear weapons, is up for grabs in a “no-man’s land” between two barricaded camps in the Russian capital!

      Returning to the embassy, I send Brussels an update cable to describe what I saw as I drove around the edges of what could well become Russia’s civil war. 

      As the sun comes up, I step outside for some fresh air. There’s almost no traffic. Near the parliament, I can see a second barricade and police keeping motorists away.

      But suddenly, three rebels enter the area in an army truck with a shattered windshield. They apparently have commandeered the vehicle and are coming from the bloody conflict at Ostankino. 

      As they try to turn toward the White House, policemen  –- including one aiming a Kalashnikov -– stop them. The police drag the men out of the truck, throw them to the ground and search the vehicle until they find riot shields and bullet-proof vests used in the Ostankino fight, where several police offers were killed.

      Bent on revenge, the militiamen look as if they might execute the suspects on the spot.

      But then a distraction, the sound of armored vehicles approaching slowly and ominously in the middle of Arbat Avenue, heading straight for the barricaded White House.

      Young soldiers are stationed on top of the convoy, with Kalashnikovs in hand. A lady, obviously a Yeltsin admirer, runs forward to give them cigarettes and pieces of cake,. But the soldiers toss the gifts back at her, indicating there is little joy in this parade.

      As the troops near the White House, they come under fire by snipers on rooftops and they respond. Tanks break through the barricades, form a semi-circle and then take aim at top floors of the building.

      Moments later, they fire salvos at floor after floor, and soon the upper part of the building is engulfed in flames and black smoke.

      Then a sudden pause in the  shooting. An attempt at mediation from the security forces waving a white flag.

      It takes a while before a white sheet appears in one of the windows. The rebels seem ready to surrender as the fire spreads to the entire upper part of the building. 

      But many more minutes pass before, the rebels walk out the front entrance behind their two leaders, Rutskoy and Khasbulatov. They are led to army buses and driven away to prison.

      It’s over.

      The casualty toll stands at 170 killed and 900 wounded, mostly from the  battle at the Ostankino TV studios.

      Temporary emergency rule and curfews are imposed to keep Moscow quiet at night. Crime drops dramatically. Scores of illegal citizens from the Caucasian republics get deported.

      The Yeltsin regime now puts its privatization policies into overdrive, trying to reach a point of irreversibility before elections for a new parliament that are scheduled for December. 

      Meanwhile, opposition newspapers are sold under the counter and there's an air of uncertainty in the aftermath of “Black October,” described as “the biggest political crisis in Russia since the 1917 Bolshevik Revolution.”

                                    Postscript

      Later, I find out that Yeltsin needed to engage in hours of  tough negotiations just before the assault to convince his generals to crush the rebellion. Many had fought with war veteran Rutskoy in Afghanistan, and all of them  were buddies. By 1994, everybody was granted amnesty. "Black October” was never commemorated, for neither side was really able to claim victory. 

Wil Geens has been a diplomat for Belgium in  Russia, Israel, Pakistan, Afghanistan, Spain and other nations.