Introduction

The Anglo-Indian community is a tiny remnant of a class that represents some of the uncomfortable paradoxes of colonial legacies (Carton 2000). Once granted privileges as a social group because of the blood relations with the colonial masters at the same time they were rejected and kept at a distance both by the colonizers and the colonized as somehow tainted by the ‘Other’. Now that those colonial masters have departed they nevertheless remain in India as an uneasy reminder of the presence of the former. In the postcolonial nation they find themselves stranded with community institutions and practices that had been developed to emphasize separateness from all things Indian and at one with all things British. Their identity as ‘almost-British’ sits at odds with the urge, in postcolonial India, to privilege all things Indian.1 This essay considers the place of sport in the development of an Anglo- Indian identity and the search for a role in postcolonial India by members of the community. In 1947 there were around 500,000 Anglo-Indians in South Asia and current assessments suggest an ongoing presence of 250,000 to 300,000 in a total Indian population of 1 billion. Another 300,000 Anglo- Indians have resettled in the West since India obtained Independence. In spite of the community's microscopic size, it has produced numerous Olympians as well as coaches, organizers and technical delegates at every level.

After ten years of intense conflict with the federal centre, Chechnya remains one of the most intractable problems for Russia. Various ideas have been advanced for its solution, some of which draw on comparisons between the rebellious republic and Tatarstan, another republic of the Russian Federation that once proclaimed its desire for independence but has now considerably tempered its demands. Such comparisons are usually based on a number of incidents during 1991–2, when tensions between Tatarstan and the federal centre ran high. During the same period, the media reported that ethnic relations within Tatarstan had also deteriorated considerably. On this basis a number of authors have argued that there are grounds for drawing direct parallels between Tatarstan and events in Chechnya.

Context and Comparisons

Edward W. Walker describes Tatarstan as ‘the ethnic republic within Russia that, along with Chechnya, seemed the most likely to secede in late 1991’. This is the mildest perspective on the situation in the republic; others characterized it in much stronger terms. For instance, Radio Liberty reported in 1997 that on the eve of the 21 March 1992 referendum on Tatarstan's status ‘it seemed that Tatarstan was on the verge of bloodshed. The situation was no less heated than in Chechnya two years later’. While suggesting that ‘in the beginning, the nationalist stances of Chechnya and Tatarstan were similar’, Ravil Bukharaev poses the following question: ‘Why then has Tatarstan avoided war with Moscow, while being so close to it at the second stage of obtaining state sovereignty?’

In May 2004, at a ceremony in Grozny commemorating victory over Nazi Germany, an explosion ripped through the main stands, killing Akhmad Kadyrov, the Moscow loyalist Chechen President. One could argue that this meticulously planned assassination was part of a conflict very different in its roots, reasons, rationale, and even results from the war whose end was being observed that day. World War Two was a ‘modern’ war pitting state against state with territory and power as the key factors. Conversely, the war in Chechnya that began in 1994 – half a century after Germany's defeat – has been identified as a postmodern or ‘new’ war, in an era of globalization in which traditional notions of power, space and conflict seem not to apply. But are wars changing so radically? In this chapter we deal with two central concepts: ‘globalization’ and ‘new wars’. The first has become a cliché and suffers from multiple and unworkable (indeed, sometimes contradictory) definitions. The second is more recent. Its adherents claim that ‘new wars’ differ from earlier low-intensity conflicts and guerrilla warfare. We deal with these concepts together because those that have developed ideas on new wars explain them with reference to processes of globalization.

A variety of theories assert that we have entered a new era, one in which modernist notions of violent conflict between political communities are moribund.

The Chechen crisis is a complex phenomenon, and there are many aspects of it that cannot be understood to this day. The conflict does not have a simple explanation, and each side has its own truth. However, a scholarly analysis of events makes it possible to draw a number of general conclusions.

Major Factors of the Crisis

The August 1991 events in Moscow, when a conservative group led by the State Committee for the State of Emergency (SCSE) tried to seize power and force Mikhail Gorbachev to moderate his programme of reforms, was followed soon after by the dissolution of the USSR. This gave the multinational people of the Chechen-Ingush Republic a unique chance to replace the communist bureaucracy with a democratic system of power by peaceful constitutional means, and to define the status of the republic by means of a national referendum. It also made possible an acceptable form of relations with the Russian Federation, through which Chechnya might gradually acquire real economic and political independence in the framework of a renewed federal union of equal nations and republics of the new democratic Russia.

However, this way of resolving the aggravated problem of power and sovereignty proposed by the democratic community of Chechnya did not suit certain political structures in Moscow or in the republic itself. As a result, the Chechen-Ingush Republic and its political elites found themselves at the epicentre of the Russian leadership's struggle with the union centre (representing the Soviet Union) over the division of power and property.

Since it emerged from the Soviet Union, the Russian Federation has fought two wars in Chechnya, the first, from December 1994 to August 1996, and the second, from October 1999 to the present. During both these wars, Russia has committed political errors and military crimes that have merited the criticism that they have received from Russians and Westerners alike. Yet while focusing upon the faulty execution of these wars, many critics have failed fully to consider the deeper causes behind them. Some observers have based their analyses upon assumptions and sentiments that have much to do with the myths of another historical era and little to do with the realities that have haunted the North Caucasus throughout the last decade. Indeed, many have failed to consider the region at all, preferring to see the conflicts along a North/South axis running from Moscow to Grozny while neglecting the tensions between Chechnya and its Caucasian neighbours to the East and West. The result of this neglect has often been a mix of misconceptions and partial truths that have only made it easier for Russian officials to dismiss legitimate criticism of their errors and excesses. Because it inadvertently strengthens the hands of hardliners on all sides, an imbalanced critique can only serve to perpetuate instability in Chechnya.

Why has Chechnya spent the past 15 years lurching from one political failure to the next? The Chechen wars are mired within a multi-layered mythology that has flourished, in no small part, because this region is so little visited and so much misunderstood.

Following a sequence of terrorism-related incidents, most notably the 9/11 attacks on New York and Washington, the Putin administration in Russia portrayed its entire conflict with Chechnya (1994–6 and from 1999 onwards) successfully to the outside world as part of the global war against terrorism. Internationally, the need to maintain the US-led coalition against Islamic fundamentalism persuaded foreign leaders to downplay other crucial elements in this complex and multi-layered confrontation. In Russia, the demonization of all shades of Chechen resistance, intensified since the apartment bombs of Autumn 1999 and reinforced by the sieges of Dubrovka and Beslan, helped maintain support for Putin's hard line and uncompromising policy in Chechnya.

A War Like No Other

A curious feature of the Russo-Chechen conflict is the lengths that successive Russian administrations have gone to avoid depicting the confrontation as a ‘war’, while throughout Russia, Chechnya and the rest of the world it is routinely referred to as the ‘Russo-Chechen war’ or the ‘war in Chechnya’.

Whereas President Yeltsin's campaign (1994–6) for the ‘restoration of constitutional order’ was generally perceived, both in Russia and abroad, to be little more than a fig leaf for a war aimed at preventing Chechnya's secession, President Putin's equally euphemistic ‘counter-terrorism operation’ (1999 to date), has not been subjected to the same disparagement. Indeed, Putin has managed, albeit not entirely successfully, to have the entire Russo-Chechen conflict retrospectively viewed as part of the global war against terrorism.

It was April 2000. Together with several colleagues I stood in the middle of Grozny. This was the second of nine visits I was to make to the Chechen Republic in the years 2000–3; the first had been in January, when the fighting made access to the capital impossible. Our group fell totally silent. In all directions the devastation of the city was terrible and total. Of those buildings still standing most would have to be demolished before effective reconstruction could begin. The streets through the rubble were deserted except for the Russian military and a handful of courageous citizens, mainly women, struggling to survive in the ruins of their homes. And this was at the beginning of the new millennium in a member state of the Council of Europe with all its commitment to peace, human rights and accountable democratic government. It would have been easy to despair.

By contrast, four years later, in July 2004, I was at Covent Garden in London. The stage of the Linbury Studio Theatre had been taken by storm by a group of incredible youth dancers from Grozny, who had travelled across Europe by bus. The audience was gripped. Their skill, style, vigour, vitality and enthusiasm were exhilarating. Not for the first or last time, I reflected on the extraordinary resilience and spirit of the oppressed. Back at home their conditions were still grim. The humanitarian situation remained bad and the economy was in tatters.

The second Chechen war, launched by Russia's leadership in autumn 1999, was intended to be a breakthrough in the revival of the Russian Army. Vladimir Putin, hand-picked by President Yeltsin as the successor, was generous with promises to make Russia proud again in its military might and to give the Armed Forces every support they needed for achieving the victory. Four years later, heading towards the well-prepared re-election in March 2004, Putin assiduously avoided the topic of the deadlocked war and insisted that there was no need for further military reform, since the Army was perfectly capable of performing its duties. For any unbiased observer, however, no amount of PR spin could hide the fact that the victory had not taken place, and the presidential denial of the Army's continuing degradation was not made any more convincing by the supporting roar from the top brass.

The war in Chechnya can rightly be seen as the ‘original sin’ of Putin's regime, determining such authoritarian features as closeted decision-making, obsession with control over every source of power and rigid censorship of the media. At the same time, this war necessitates the building up of conventional military capabilities, both for suppressing the resistance and for engaging in other conflicts of this type. The maturing ‘patriotic’ ideology of the state-centric regime also places a heavy emphasis on the ability to project power as the ultimate argument in relentless geopolitical contests.

The esteemed parties to the agreement, desiring to end their centuries-long antagonism and striving to establish firm, equal and mutually beneficial relations, hereby agree:

1. To reject forever the use of force or threat of force in resolving all matters of dispute.

2. To develop their relations on generally recognised principles and norms of international law. In doing so, the sides shall interact on the basis of specific concrete agreements.

3. This treaty shall serve as the basis for concluding further agreements and accords on the full range of relations.

4. This treaty is written on two copies and both have equal legal power.

5. This treaty is effective from the day of signing.

The Khasavyurt Russian-Chechen Agreement

31 August 1996

JOINT STATEMENT

We the undersigned,

Taking into consideration the progress achieved in the realisation of the Agreement on the cessation of military actions;

Making efforts to achieve mutually acceptable preconditions for a political settlement of the armed conflict;

Acknowledging that the use or threat of armed force to settle disputes is unacceptable; Based on the generally accepted principles of the right of peoples to self-determination, the principles of equal rights, voluntariness and freedom of choice, the strengthening of national agreement and the security of peoples;

Expressing the intent unconditionally to defend the human rights and freedoms of citizens, regardless of national origin, religious denomination, place of residence or other differences, an end to acts of violence between political opponents, in accordance with the Universal Declaration of Human Rights of 1949 and the international covenant on Civil and Political Rights of 1966,

We have worked out principles* for the determination of basis of relations between the Russian Federation and the Chechen Republic, on the basis of which further negotiation will take place.

Chechnya is just one of Russia's 21 ethnically defined republics, yet it is here that one of the most terrible conflicts in modern times has raged in various ways since 1991. There has been considerable debate over what provokes one area to seek secession, while another in apparently similar circumstances remains within the existing constitutional order. Why has it been Chechnya, and not one of the other republics or regions of Russia, that has taken this tragic path? Here, I will place the conflict in its broader historical and theoretical context; the details of the background to the independence struggle will be examined in more detail in other chapters.

Comparative Debates

Michael Hechter has observed that it is typically the poorest regions that are most disposed to secede. Certainly, there is a socio-economic dynamic at work in the case of Chechnya, which was close to the bottom in most indicators of modernization in comparison with other regions of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics (USSR) and Russia. Levels of educational and general socio-economic attainment were poor, while a high birth rate fuelled exceptionally high levels of unemployment. Reserves of oil had declined and by the early 1980s constituted no more than three per cent of Russian oil production. In most aspects of socio-economic development, Chechnya was in last place in Russia, with over half the population under 30 years of age and with unemployment among ethnic Chechens reaching 30 per cent, forcing some 40 per cent of Chechens of working age to become migrant workers (otkhodniki), with at least 25,000 men leaving each spring to work in Russia to work on building sites as itinerant workers (shabashniki).

On 15 May 2004 Russian economics minister German Gref visited the city of Grozny and was shocked by the sight. ‘What we saw today at Minutka (a square in the south of the city) looks almost like a set from a Hollywood movie’, Gref told reporters. Russian president Vladimir Putin had expressed something similar when he flew over the city four days before. ‘Despite what's being done, from the helicopter it looks horrible’, he told a meeting of the local Chechen government. It is worth considering the words of these two men, both of whom carry enormous responsibility for the state of the city they were visiting. The majority of the destruction they saw had been carried out by the Russian government more than nine years before, with more inflicted by Putin himself almost five years ago. Yet somehow both men had either forgotten or discounted the importance of the fact of this mass devastation of a Russian city until being physically reminded of it. In a way, like most of their compatriots, they had accepted the ruination of Grozny as normal.

The appalling condition of Grozny is of course no secret. The dozens of journalists and aid workers who visited the city over the preceding decade had repeatedly seen its ruins and tried to reflect on its meaning – not to speak of the tens of thousands of Chechens who have to live in these conditions and experience the meaning of it every day.

The second Chechen war has been continuing for over half a decade. The tenth anniversary of the start of the first Chechen war has come and gone. Even before the Russian intervention in December 1994, latent post-Soviet ethno-social conflict in Chechnya had been articulated as a separatist Russo- Chechen confrontation. Russian society has now become used to regular despatches from this ‘hot spot’ about battles and terrorist acts. The Chechen war has become part of everyday reality, and has affected the lives of all Russians. It has made an indelible impact upon the lives and destinies of hundreds of thousands of people – the inhabitants of the republic, refugees and servicemen. During this time, international perceptions of Russia have been significantly influenced by the interminable war in the North Caucasus. In this chapter, we will first look at some of the ways the conflict is perceived at home and abroad, and will then examine the role of human rights organizations in the settlement of the armed conflict in Chechnya.

The International Context of the Chechen Wars

Both Chechen wars were accompanied by a massive violation of human rights by the warring sides, by military crimes and crimes against humanity. In both cases the federal side sought to place these actions outside the context of law, both national and international. In both wars, as in all developments in Chechnya over the last ten years, the trend has been from ‘bad to worse’.