Mikhail Khodorkovsky: Prison's Peoples
Below is a translation, in English, of the fifth instalment of Mikhail Khodorkovsky's Prison's Peoples as published in the New Times:
I often find my thoughts coming back to the question: what is conscience?
How do we determine what is "good", and what things are we ashamed of for our whole lives? When does conscience defeat fear, and when does fear - defeat conscience? In the story I am about to tell, the name of the person and certain details of the events have been changed as usual.
Lyosha Badayev - an ordinary young Buryat fellow from a far-off village. A broad, round face, black eyes that seem to be perpetually squinting. He does not remember his parents, he lived with an aunt. He had 2 grades of schooling, then worked as a shepherd tending the communal flock.
One ill-fated day he tangled with a thief who was attempting to steal a sheep, - he threw a rock at him and hit his head. But the thief turned out to be a robust man, and quickly came to. Lyosha, who had just run up, got scared, panicked, and then did something that could not be taken back - he hit him with the rock again. And again.
Having understood what had happened, - he abandoned the flock and ran away. They caught him by chance, several months later, a thousand kilometers from home, when he was attempting to steal food. A trial, a conviction for homicide - 6.5 years. A just sentence, taking all the circumstances into account. A colony for minors, and now - a "grownup" jail. I met with Lyosha at the sewing workshop, where he had found himself a haven. A hardworking fellow, not talkative, inconspicuous. After a certain time they issued me a reprimand, and I filed suit against the administration. Unexpectedly I find out that they are calling Lyosha as a witness. I have no doubts - he is going to say what they demand of him. In camp there are many methods of "convincing".
And so - the trial. All of the "main people" are gathered there: the chief of the camp, the chief of the operative department, the deputies. The hearing is being presided over by the chairman of the city court.
The call Lyosha to the stand. He is obviously confused and scared, he stammers hesitantly, but he speaks the truth! My lawyer and I exchange glances, not understanding anything. Across from us our opponents are likewise exchanging glances with one another. The judge dismisses Lyosha, he goes out through the door but then comes right back in. "He", - Lyosha points at the chief of the oper[ative] department, "gave me two packs of cigarettes and told me to lie."I look at those sitting across from me. The oper is calm and composed on the outside, the chief is slowly turning a shade of purple. "But I wasn't gonna lie, I told the truth. And the cigarettes - here they are. And he gives a pack of L&Ms back to the judge, admitting:
"And the second one I smoked. I've never had cigarettes like these."
As they say, - "dead silence".
"Well, I'm gonna go, or do you need anything else?"
"Go, go, you've already said everything," - the voice of the chief booms out.
Lyosha goes out, the "dead silence" - continues. Finally, the chairman of the court pronounces:
"Everything is in the trial record. If anything happens with this fellow, - I'll make sure the record goes public."
After the trial I come up to Lyosha.
"Why on earth did you do that? You know perfectly well, - there will be problems."
He lifts up his squinting eyes:
"You haven't done anything bad to me. I can't do it."
And he goes away.
Then came camp life and the inevitable payback. Sometimes, coming out of the dungeon, I would learn that Lyosha - is there too. They took him off of production. But during chance encounters Lyosha smiled: "Everything's normal!"
Of course, what happened became known to the whole camp in detail. And when I asked to be informed promptly if someone attempted to beat Lyosha up just the same (such methods are sufficiently commonplace), the reply was an astonished: "And who's going to have the guts to do that? The administration is afraid, the zeks now respect him..." In half a year they moved me to another jail. Lyosha's term has ended a long time ago. What became of him? I don't know, and I don't want to inquire, so as not to create problems for the person. But I very much hope that he is going through life without fear and with dignity.
A deal with one's conscience - to lie, to keep your mouth shut, to "not notice" for the sake of your own peace and tranquility, hiding behind the interests of your family. To mollify yourself that "that's the kind of times we live in", that "everybody's like that".
Who are we really negotiating with when we strike such a deal? How do we find out that "the other party" - our conscience - has refused to make this deal? When we find ourselves face-to-face with adversity? Or is it later, at the edge, tallying up the bottom-line results of our life, agonizingly aware that the "run through the obstacle course" is over, and only memory remains? But that it's too late to change anything any more?