Friday, 28 October 2011



Ramzan Kadyrov has absolute power over Chechnya. He controls everything from the reconstruction of the capital Grozny to what women are allowed to wear. Behind the pomp, Vladimir Putin’s spiritual heir is “normalizing” the country through terror.

Grozny-City and the Grozny Mosque

GROZNY - Despite its 250,000 residents, the Chechen capital is a ghost town. Not a soul on the streets, no cars. “You must have a special pass to be allowed to get around,” says an official. The only action comes from the avenue next to the mosque: a group of orange-jacket-clad women are twirling brooms in a cloud of dust. All the streets in the city center have been blocked, and armed men are posted everywhere. Is the city getting ready for war? Under a state of emergency?
All of a sudden the sound of an engine breaks the silence. “It’s him...” word quickly spreads through the mosque’s courtyard where the faithful, guards and a few invited journalists are waiting. As soon as the black Mercedes parks, they all flock to its tinted windows. A chubby man steps out: Ramzan Kadyrov, the Chechen leader, is here to celebrate his 35th birthday in style.
Vladimir Putin placed him at the head of the Muslim republic five years ago. Since then, Kadyrov has become the figure of the “normalization” wanted by the Kremlin after two barbaric wars between the federal army and the rebels from 1994 to 2004.
The Kremlin boss and the Chechen leader now have a father/son bond. When Kadyrov’s father, Mufti Akhmad Kadyrov, a Russian ally, died in an attack in 2004, Putin took the young Kadyrov under his wing. “When my father was alive, I always compared myself to him. Now the only leader that counts is Vladimir Vladimirovitch Putin. He is my role model. […] I try to set the same policies as he does,” he told Russian TV channel NTV.
Thanks to the money sent by Moscow, he turned the once destroyed Grozny into a picture-perfect city displaying it’s new-found wealth: luxurious SUVs, well paved roads, perfectly cropped lawns, beauty salons to meet the Botox craze and sushi restaurants along Putin Avenue.
Grozny’s architecture is extravagant. Close to the mosque, which is a pale copy of Istanbul’s Hagia Sophia built by Turkish workers from 2006 to 2009, there are five newly constructed skyscrapers. That’s “Grozny City,” the business center that gives the capital a sort of Dubai feel. About 10 years ago when the war was at its peak, dogs were eating cadavers on the nearby Minutka square. Now it’s all parks, fountains and over-the-top palaces. Grozny is no longer one of Russia’s provincial towns, it has become the capital of a virtual state: “Ramzanistan.”
But with what money? Only Russian funds? “Allah gives us some. We don’t always know exactly where the money comes from,” says Kadyrov. A fierce critic of radical Islam, the Chechen leader still doesn’t miss an opportunity to show his religious ardor. Back in September, in a convertible Rolls Royce, he triumphantly displayed a precious cup that the Prophet himself is believed to have drank from. To greet the Rolls and the 60 black Mercedes following it, all of Grozny’s students were ordered to stand on the sides of the road leading from the airport to the city center.
There is now an Islamic university and a traditional medicine center. Many families follow the leadership of sheiks, spiritual gurus, faith healers and judges. On TV, from 9pm to 10pm, religion students participate in the “lalimun,” a game show where they must identify the origins of the different Suras chosen by a jury of wise men.

Eyes are everywhere
Grozny could be described as Arabian Nights meets George Orwell’s 1984. Over the four minarets, a 24-hour camera rides on rails suspended between the avenue and the gardens. The big round lens is like Kadyrov’s eye. The Chechen leader keeps a close watch and makes all decisions: reconstruction, the latest models of luxury cars, the Dhikr (a Sufi prayer ritual) and what women wear. In Chechnya, girls have to wear the headscarf starting at age 7. In neighboring Ingushetia, it’s the opposite. The veil is forbidden in grade school.
Just like in Russia, this vertical power is protected by extortion and corruption. To get a job, one must pay. Leyla (names have been changed to protect those interviewed), a doctor, got a job at the hospital after paying 300,000 rubles (about 7,000 euros) to her employer. A few months later, she was told that she was no longer fit for the job, that she was unskilled, badly dressed and would probably be fired. She believes someone else was ready to pay even more to get her job. Had she stayed, she would have had to earn back the 300,000 rubles she paid, at the expense of the patients. More Here

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