Fables of the Reconstruction

The ambitions of Chechnya’s pro-Moscow ruler Ramzan Kadyrov, inflated by billions of rubles from Kremlin coffers, have transformed Grozny into a glittering monument of hero worship and mass amnesia.

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In the Name of the Father

Nobody I meet in Grozny believes that Islamist insurgents killed Akhmad Kadyrov, the first Kremlin-backed president of Chechnya. Here it’s taken for granted that Russian security agencies were behind the assassination.

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Resurrection Day in a Graveyard

Few Russians remain in Grozny. On Easter Sunday they drive down from neighboring Stavropol region to lay some flowers on their relatives’ graves – and then quickly leave again.

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Self-Censored Blog Post

I meet with a Chechen who asks me just to call him “a public figure.” I’m going to censor myself by redacting any other identifying clues. Even if the fighting is over, fear still inhabits the neat and tidy streets of Grozny.

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Winning by Losing

“I’m trying to understand: is this a demonstration of victory or defeat?” Alexei Navalny asked. The crowd gave him a resounding answer. In recent years, the words “Russian opposition leader” connoted “loser.” No longer.

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On Putin Street, Need Beer

The couple of women I see are extravagantly done up, wearing high, high heels as if they were out in Moscow. But there isn’t a drop of alcohol, not in the Café Muskat and not in the convenience store around the corner.

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Chechnya or Bust

We arrive in Argun, on the outskirts of Grozny. Days after the Russian assault, Tagir Gadzhiyev escorted English and American journalists along the same highway. They had to turn around here because of an air raid.

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Gateway to Nowhere

As we enter Derbent, a fat traffic policeman stops our car, a black Lada of the make preferred by suicide bombers. The cop is surprisingly jovial. A “special operation” against terrorists is under way, he says.

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No Country for Young Men

The Soviet Army once trained here because of the terrain’s similarity to Afghanistan. Today Dagestan’s homegrown Mujahideen imagine themselves in a holy war fought from the cliffs that tower above us.

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Mothers of the Disappeared

“Here’s a future suicide bomber,” Gasan mutters under his breath so the woman can’t hear. “If she doesn’t get anywhere, she’ll blow herself up in front of a government building.”

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