Dark Days in Prisons at Home and Abroad
Suspected militant from Caucasus suffered at Guantanamo
and now
back home, family says.
By Kim Murphy
Times Staff Writer
December 9, 2005
NALCHIK, Russia — When Fatima Tekayeva heard that her son was about to
be returned to Russia from the U.S. detention facility at Guantanamo
Bay, Cuba, she felt an aching fear.
Don't do it, she begged anyone who would listen. It's bad there, yes.
It's worse here. Please don't send my son home.
All the same, the scenario unfolded like a scripted nightmare.
Rasul Kudayev was put on a plane back to Russia. Soon he was released.
He came home to the Caucasus region nothing like the broad-shouldered
wrestling champion who had gone off to study Islam with the Taliban in
Afghanistan.
He could barely walk unaided. His eyes were yellow from hepatitis,
his heart fluttered, his head throbbed, family members said. Kudayev
would sit up in the kitchen all night, telling his brother how guards
at Guantanamo forced him to take medicine that made him sick and left
him alternately to freeze and suffocate by opening and closing the
ventilation system in a cramped isolation cell. By morning, his stories
spent, he would fall asleep.
It ended as Tekayeva feared it would.
On Oct. 23, a truckload of soldiers showed up outside the family's
small house and seized Kudayev, accusing him of having participated in
an attack by Islamic militants on police and government targets in
Nalchik 10 days earlier. Tekayeva threw her body in front of her son's
thin frame.
"Handcuffs, what handcuffs?" she wailed. "He's already had enough
handcuffs for a lifetime!" But he disappeared into the feared
Department 6 organized crime unit of the Kabardino-Balkaria police.
Kudayev, 27, is a veteran of an increasingly borderless campaign
against terrorism, in which suspects may be ferried among prisons
around the globe without facing trial. He survived a hellish uprising
at an Afghan prison, followed by two years at Guantanamo, only to find
himself in the hands of Russian police.
Several days after local police arrested Kudayev, his lawyer was
brought in to witness his confession.
"He looked awful," attorney Irina Komissarova said. "He couldn't
sit or stand straight because of the pain he experienced. He dragged
one of his feet and couldn't step down on it. His face was covered with
cuts and scabs."
Komissarova filed a complaint. Russian authorities responded last
month by dismissing her from the case, saying that the complaint made
her a witness. But Komissarova has continued to follow developments.
Last week, after she alleged that Kudayev had been beaten again, this
time so severely that his leg was broken, authorities opened a criminal
investigation against her for allegedly revealing investigative secrets.
As a boy, Kudayev was not particularly religious, said his
brother, Arsen Mokayev. When he was named wrestling champion of the
republic of Kabardino-Balkaria in 1996, "my mother would say, 'I wish
he were pious. But that's not his way.' "
That changed as the North Caucasus felt the effects of
unemployment, ethnic resentment and corruption, as well as Islamic
militancy and harsh police tactics spilling over from nearby Chechnya.
Kudayev left to study Islam in Saudi Arabia. From there, he made
his way to Afghanistan. How, when and why he went there is unclear.
Many young Muslims said later they had idealized the Islamic state
established by the Taliban.
Mokayev said his brother was attempting to flee Afghanistan with
men from Tajikistan, Uzbekistan and elsewhere in Central Asia when they
were captured by the U.S.-backed Northern Alliance and imprisoned in
the ancient Qala-i-Jangy fortress at Mazar-i-Sharif.
A three-day uprising at the prison in November 2001 was crushed by
Northern Alliance fighters and U.S. airstrikes. Only about 60 of the
more than 500 prisoners survived.
Kudayev and many other non-Afghans were handed over to U.S. forces
for eventual transfer to Guantanamo. Many of his letters from the
prison there had large sections blacked out by censors, Mokayev said.
But he told Tekayeva that he was being fed well and allowed to perform
religious rituals.
When U.S. authorities sent Kudayev and six others from Guantanamo
back to Russia in March 2004, they said they still considered the men a
threat and that Russia had pledged to detain and investigate them.
Russia filed charges but released the men in late June of that year.
Kudayev's mother said she barely recognized him when he arrived at
her two-room house outside Nalchik. Several other former prisoners came
with him and stayed until their families could pick them up.
"When I saw them at first, they were white, and you could look
through them. You could blow on them and they would fall," she said.
Kudayev rarely left the house. He walked with difficulty. A bullet
had been lodged in his thigh since Afghanistan that needed to be
surgically removed, his family said. For unexplained reasons, the
Americans never operated, and Kudayev could not get the surgery in
Russia because authorities refused to return his passport, a
prerequisite for free access to the healthcare system.
His liver was swollen from the hepatitis he and several other
Russian prisoners said they contracted at Guantanamo. Heart and
blood-pressure problems sometimes left him unable to rise off the
couch. He had frequent headaches. All of it, his family said, dated to
Guantanamo, although he had also been beaten by Russian security forces
shortly after his return to his homeland.
Family members said Kudayev was haunted by his treatment at the U.S.
naval base prison.
"There was constant psychological pressure on him," Mokayev said.
"Imagine a man sitting in a cage for days on end, being constantly
watched by another person who keeps writing down everything that the
caged man does and ignoring him even when he speaks to him. Never
turning off the lights. Just imagine that."
Mokayev said his brother told him of being forced to kneel with
his hands cuffed to his ankles, being sprayed with a gel that caused a
painful rash, then carried out, still shackled, and hosed down with a
stream of water. Kudayev and several other prisoners said Guantanamo
guards would turn up the air conditioning to the freezing point, then
turn it off until breathing became difficult.
He was forced to take unidentified pills that gave him chest pains and
made his muscles feel like stone.
"They beat them if they didn't want to take these pills, and they
would administer them by force to them," Tekayeva said. "Afterward, he
would just hunch into a fetal position."
The U.S. has denied forcing medication or any other abuse at
Guantanamo but as a matter of policy does not comment on individual
cases.
"All detainees in custody at Guantanamo, without exception, are
treated humanely and are provided excellent medical care by dedicated
medical professionals," said Lt. Col. Jeremy M. Martin, director of
public affairs for the U.S. military in Guantanamo Bay.
At home, Mokayev would stay with his brother most days while
Tekayeva worked at a clinic. At night, they reversed and Mokayev went
out to work at odd jobs. They seldom left Kudayev alone. Police had
been watching their house constantly since his return, and on several
occasions had brought him in for brief questioning.
On Oct. 13, as many as 200 militants attacked police and
government targets in Nalchik, and more than 135 militants, police and
civilians died in a day of fierce fighting. Family members insist that
Kudayev was home. They say they left him alone only for about 15
minutes, when Mokayev took their mother to work.
Prosecutors say Kudayev headed a group of eight people assigned to
attack a police rest house and the residence of the president of the
republic. The assault was halted in a battle with traffic police on the
outskirts of Khasanya, the small suburb where Kudayev lives, in which
one officer was killed, Russian Deputy Prosecutor General Nikolai
Shepel told the Los Angeles Times in responses to written questions.
"Kudayev admits [in his confession] that he had a semiautomatic
rifle and had been assigned to lead a group of armed people," Shepel
said. "At the same time, the arrested members of Kudayev's group are
giving testimony about his participation in the armed battle with
police officials, and about his heading the group."
On Nov. 22, 12 days after his lawyer was dismissed, Kudayev was
charged with terrorism, banditry, attempted murder of a police officer,
homicide and illegal trade in weapons, ammunition and explosives.
Komissarova, the lawyer, said Kudayev was so weak when she saw him
that he had to be dragged into the room by two police officers.
"He told me that since being delivered to this place, he'd
constantly been beaten and tortured — that was his word, 'tortured' —
and he said electric shock had been used," she said.
Another man arrested at the same time, a member of the town
council and the pro-government United Russia party, said he could hear
the sound of beatings as he entered the prison area.
"All you could hear around you were thuds of blows, bangs and
kicks behind cell walls, and screams and moans of the people who were
being beaten up there," Ramazan Tembotov told The Times. "They were
howling like injured animals."
One family was told that their son had committed suicide by throwing
himself from a second-story window.
"I heard police officials talking about how … they're trying to
get information out of people, and how people are thrown out a window,
taken back and thrown out again," said Larissa Dorogova, a lawyer for
another suspect who also has been removed from her case. "And that way,
they're forced to talk."
Russian media reports say 2,000 Nalchik-area residents have been
detained for questioning since the Oct. 13 events. Few families
acknowledge their sons went to war against the police. Most insist they
were somewhere else at the time. Kudayev's family dismisses the idea
that he went to Afghanistan to fight with the Taliban or be trained as
a terrorist.
"If this were the case, do you think the Pentagon would have let him
go?" Mokayev asked.
To Komissarova, Kudayev has the right to go to trial unmolested
and represented by the lawyer of his choice, regardless of whether he
was at home on the couch or in a gunfight.
"Neither I nor a single other lawyer will ever say that these are
nice, wonderful guys. The only issue we're drawing attention to is the
protection of their rights — as detainees, as suspects, as defendants,"
she said.
"We hear so many law enforcement officials tell us, 'Oh, there you
go, defending them,' " she said. "But the institution of defense has
not been annulled in our country, has it?"
*
Times staff writer Sergei L. Loiko contributed to
this report.
Copyright 2005 Los Angeles Times