The Russian Century: A Hundred Years of Russian Lives

The flow of contradictory news keeps swelling. It is clear that the people are defending the White House. At mid-day there is a report (was it the CNN or a phone call from the city center?) that the White House is about to be stormed. Stankevich [a leader of the democratic opposition] has ordered that all women be evacuated from the place. I manage to reach Kriuchkov by phone, report to him and ask that he cancel this venture. He laughs nervously: “What nonsense. Who made all this up? I just spoke with Silaev and told him that it’s all nonsense.”

But his denial gives me no peace. I have heard that laugh once before. It bodes nothing good. Kriuchkov is nervous and he is lying.

At 1730 Beskov calls. His men have done reconnaissance on the White House and concluded that a mad and bloody venture is being readied which will have totally disastrous consequences. I call Kriuchkov, inform him of Beskov’s report and ask, beseech him to cancel the plot.

“Report to Ageev,” he says. That’s all. While keeping Beskov on the line so that he can hear everything, I relay the information to Ageev. On an internal line I switch in V.A. Kirpichenko and ask him and Beskov to listen to me carefully.

“Boris Petrovich [Beskov],” I say, “I command you not to execute any orders without informing me and getting my authorization.” I repeat if for clarity and effect. Kirpichenko understands everything and acknowledges the order.

It’s max alert. At 2115 I’m in my office at headquarters trying to find Kri-uchkov and confront him. But he is not in the building and the duty officers say that he is in the Kremlin. I try to reach Beskov, but he is at a meeting with Ageev. I have him summoned to the telephone. He reveals that the storming is still being discussed despite the totally obvious opposition of all its would-be

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Chapter Thirty-Three

executioners, that is, Beskov himself and V. F. Karpukhin leader of group Alpha of the Seventh Directorate [specially trained antiterrorist squads].

I categorically reconfirm my instructions to refuse any order to storm the White House and to do everything possible that no such order be given. Kri-uchkov is still away from headquarters.

Beskov reports that it has been decided to cancel the storming (but when? At night or in the morning?). I ask him to return the groups to their quarters in Balashikha, which he does with relief.

21AUGUST

The session of Supreme Soviet of the Russian Federation is being televised live. Many of those who, like us, kept silent, now rush to announce their allegiance to the winning side. Everyone pretends that they knew all along that the State Commission on Extraordinary Affairs was nothing more than a bunch of conspirators. (If one were to believe everything that was said and written after 21 August, then millions of people were manning the White House barricades while the enemy consisted of eight helpless evildoers.) The twenty-first of August was not a peaceful day, rather it was a day of deten-sioning, the end of the first act. Later that evening the president of the USSR [Gorbachev] returned from the Crimea [where he had been held hostage].

22AUGUST

The government is in place; the conspirators arrested; television is presenting news reports; the people are rejoicing. Does life go on? Maybe. At 0630 I take the dog, put on a vigorous and confident air for the benefit of the gate guards and proceed to the FCD. Normally these are the best twenty-five minutes of each day, but not today. What have we been thrust into? How could Kri-uchkov have betrayed us? I am plagued by the naive question of a virgin: “Whom can I trust?”

The phone rings at 0900. It is a woman’s voice: “Mikhail Sergeevich [Gorbachev] requests that you come to his office at noon.”

“Where is it?” (A stupid, but sincere question.)

They give me directions. Things seem to be getting easier. I go to KGB headquarters in order to be closer to the Kremlin and bide my time. Grushko hastily gathers the Collegium. In a collective mood of “mea culpa” we accept the Collegium’s condemnation of the conspiracy. In the condemnation the word “sullied” is used. An idiotic argument ensues: isn’t it better to say

Leonid Shebarshin, Three Days in August

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“stained” or “besmirched?” It is an argument straight out of Kafka or the Supreme Soviet. We are all in a state of general and amicable mindlessness; the only unstated thought is that we are all up the creek. Yes, up the creek and how. Yesterday’s impotent cursing of the chief gives no comfort. He has betrayed everyone.

The Collegium is breaking up. I stop by Grushko’s office and tell him of the president’s invitation. Grushko says that Mikhail Sergeevich had called from his car that morning and asked for everyone to remain calm. And Grushko is calm though his eyes are sunken and his face is somber. It was a brief conversation about nothing.