"Terrorists" on Trial: Justice in Tajikistan?

Today I attended the trial of 20 men accused of being members of Hizb ut-Tahrir, a Muslim extremist group banned here in Tajikistan. It was one of the more disturbing things I’ve seen in a long while, maybe ever.

First of all, even though the trial is supposed to be open to everyone, I had to talk my in by flashing Christine’s business card around. Fortunately Hamida, my translator, did most of the talking or I might have gotten us in trouble.

When we finally got into the courtroom, the first thing I noticed was the cage. The big, wrought-iron, floor-to-ceiling cage that takes up about 1/5 of the courtroom. This is where the defendant sits – in this case, it was full of about 20 guys. Although I haven’t met any of them, I feel that I know some of them because I’ve interviewed their families for my project. I know that they have been tortured at the “6th Department,” the Ministry of Internal Affairs’ own special torture den. I know that they were all captured in a raid at a chaihana, or teahouse, back in February and were kept incommunicado for 2 weeks to a month, basically until they confessed to being members of HBT. I know that one of them can no longer hear out of one ear (a result of electric shocks administered to help “jog his memory”) and I know that one of them has a severe limp that he didn’t have before. I don’t know if they are guilty or innocent, but I’m pretty damn sure there’s no fair trial to try and find out.

How can a trial be fair when the defendants are all already in a cage? When the court system prioritizes written confessions above all else? When 20 men are lumped together and tried as though they are part of a conspiracy, though there’s no evidence to the fact?

The courtroom itself is, as is to be expected, really crummy. It was dirty and not air conditioned and falling apart. The prosecutor sits on the left, and the defense lawyers (about 6 of them, though it was unclear who was representing who) sit on the right by the cage. There is no jury.

I forgot to mention the guys with guns. Young army recruits in fatigues, their Kalashnikovs slung over their shoulders like exceedingly deadly handbags. They keep a stern eye on the defendants and their families and put their hands on their guns whenever anyone starts crying too loud or a little kid starts to chatter.

The whole time we were there, one guy was testifying. The judge interrogated him, asking him about his relationship to Islam and referring to the written testimony where he confessed to being a member of HBT. When the guy gave testimony that differed from his written account, the judge asked him why, and the defendant said that he had been forced to write the confession. The judge played dumb: “What do you mean, forced?” The guy told him he’d been tortured with electric shocks until he signed the confession. The judge’s response? “I don’t believe you – why isn’t this stuff about torture in your confession?”

All this time, the guy’s lawyer doesn’t say anything, just sits there taking notes. I don’t think they are allowed to make an objection or anything like that. The defendant is sparring with the judge from his spot in the cage, with no help. It’s pretty unlikely he’s even been allowed to meet with his lawyer in private. I thought he was incredibly brave for standing up and talking about torture the way he did, especially in front of the Kalashnikov guys and assorted militzia who were present.

After the judge got through with his interrogation, it was the prosecutor’s turn, then finally the defendant’s lawyer was allowed to question him. Not surprisingly, he dwelt heavily on the torture issue. He asked for details about what happened, and the courtroom erupted in gasps and sobs (from the family members) as he related how rings with wires attached had been placed over his fingers, how a hood had been put on his head, how his hands and feet had been bound, and how he had been shocked with electricity until he confessed. I felt ill.

The guy looked ill too – he had big bags under his eyes and a nasty cough. None of the defendants looked very good at all, in fact. They were clearly exhausted and many looked as though their spirits had been broken. They brightened when their wives entered the courtroom, and one guy kept making faces at his little girl who was sitting next to me. I kept thinking how it must feel to see her father in a cage. The whole time, the courtroom was packed with these guys’ parents and wives and children, many of whom I have met. They are poor and uneducated and absolutely certain that their sons and husbands are innocent. The whole sordid process is absolutely awful.

By the time we broke for lunch, the defendant’s lawyer had gotten into a screaming contest with the judge because the prosecutor had been allowed to make a big speech about how these guys are interfering with democracy but the other attorney hadn’t been allowed to respond. The judge tried to shut him up, but the lawyer stood his ground and argued that in Tajikistan there’s nothing illegal about practicing one’s faith. Now, I’m never a huge fan of organized religion, but being in a country where piety can get you thrown in the electric chair shows how important it is to be tolerant of other people’s beliefs. The government here clearly views Islam as a threat and therefore prefers to oppress people than be tolerant, with the result that people turn to extremist groups like HBT. It’s not a good plan any way you cut it.

After this morning’s nightmare and the various traumas detailed in Pete’s post below, we’re glad to be heading off on vacation. Of course, we will still be in Tajikistan, but hopefully other people will be dealing with the hassles while we just lie back and enjoy the view.