In Uzbekistan, journalist spent almost 20 years in prison
ACCA continues to publish stories about political prisoners convicted of fabricated cases during the rule of Islam Karimov. The well-known Uzbek dissident and independent journalist Yusuf Ruzimuradov, who served his term from August 19, 1999 to February 20, 2018, told ACCA about his fate. The editors fully cite his story.
Since 1992, persecution of dissidents began throughout Uzbekistan. Representatives of the media, who opposed the regime of Karimov, began to be persecuted. In this regard, I had to leave my homeland and, together with my wife, left for Kiev, the capital of Ukraine. Until 1999, as an independent journalist, I actively collaborated with the Uzbek service of Radio Liberty and periodically wrote critical articles about the flagrant situation of human rights and the socio-economic hardship that caused the Uzbek people to suffer. Slowly settling in and began to make close contacts with representatives of the creative intelligentsia of Ukraine.
After the bombings on February 16, 1999 in Tashkent, I appealed to the Uzbek authorities to begin the investigation process on this terrorist act in order to avoid mass repressions. This was motivated by the fact that specific criminals were behind the crime, and the slightest deviation from objectivity could create an opportunity for the executors of the act of terror to beat the rap. I substantiated my alarm, referring to the arrest of the mother of the authoritative religious leader Obidkhon Kori, who was then at a very advanced age. Exactly one month later, on March 17 of the same year, returning home from the school “Young Technician”, where I studied for a driver’s license, I was attacked by three unidentified riot policemen. They rushed out of the RAF car without a number, intimidating passers-by. I was hard knocked into the street dirt. They tied my hands, handcuffed, put a bag over my head and then pushed me into the car.
None of them introduced themselves. They didn’t demand to show documents confirming my identity. I might not be the person they were looking for. Moreover, they could clearly see that I didn’t have weapons and didn’t represent any danger. They just showed that it wasn’t an official operation. All their actions violated the laws of Ukraine and international legal norms. It became clear that the Uzbek authorities were behind this. During this time, they managed to turn the investigations on explosions into mass repressions against the people.
I was brought not to the city bullpen, but somewhere to the outskirts of the city. They categorically refused to tell us the address, despite the fact that we have long insisted. During that time, the same gang managed to bring three more persons: Muhammad Bekzhanov, the brother of Muhammad Salih, Kabul Diyarov and Shavkat (unfortunately, I don’t remember his family name). They refused to announce the official reason for our arrest, and we were forbidden to exercise our right to protection provided by Ukrainian law for foreigners.
In 2004, when I was serving a term, my wife, who lived at that time in the USA as a political refugee, came for a date. She told me about that disastrous day of abduction in Kiev. On March 17, 1999, in fact, the same gangsters in uniform came to her apartment with two Uzbeks. Without presenting any documents and sanctions, they searched the apartment and at the same time the bandits mockingly talked about finding the bomb. Not finding it, they took my personal computer without registering this fact. The next day, they came again and kept my wife under actual house arrest, without explaining the reasons and in every possible way prevented her to leave the apartment.
All this was done in order not to give her the opportunity to file a complaint with the official authorities and friends in the Verkhovna Rada, which certainly would affect their career. At that moment, all these meannesses and grossest offenses led to a sad thought: we were under the steamroller of repressions of Karimov’s regime.
On March 20, by evening, the four detainees were taken to Tashkent and immediately from the airport to the Ministry of Internal Affairs. There we were waited by torture cellars with fanatic interrogators. I was beaten with a baton during 15 days. They tried to hit the heels (often with the back of the club with a rough serrated tip) with all their might so that it was as painful as possible.
With each blow, I saw stars before my eyes from pain. Over time, numb heels ceased to feel pain. My legs were so swollen that I could not step and moved crawling. If the bosses, Batyr Ibragimov or Tahir, noticed the passivity of the inquirer during torture, then he was immediately replaced by another one. And then he really tried to show official zeal, cherishing the dream to get the desired early rank. I was not given rest. I could sit in a cell for two hours a day, if the interrogator wanted to rest or eat.
We were handed over for continuous torture. The fact that six rubber batons were broken upon me once again shows unlimited cruelty. During the beating, they didn’t get tired of asking,” Who told you to speak on Radio Liberty on March 17?” They insisted that I admit to being involved in the bombings on February 16. It turns out that none of the six of us have ever shouldered the blame of another’s crime.
For five months, we didn’t know what exactly they accused us of. To the court, we were taken to the city of Gulistan without issuing a copy of the indictment. We all firmly demanded that the judge gave us the indictment, but he refused to answer in a cowardly manner.
Already in the evening, they gave us the indictments. The court was postponed for a week. We were tried in the Regional Court of Tashkent. The hearing was chaired by its then chairman, Mr. Tashkhojaev. They accused me of systematically insulting and slandering the president under article 159 of the Criminal Code, which was invented by Karimov’s lawyers for religious opposition, and which didn’t coincide with the charges against us.
Here is one of the ridiculous episodes of the trial, in which the prosecuting party, without even knowing it, gives the process a political overtone. Having read the charges prepared in advance, the prosecutor wanted to add a few words to please the “big master”. He said, pointing to the dock, “They want democracy. If we give democracy to the people now, chaos and disorder will begin in society. People are not ready for democracy.”
I made a proposal to the court to evaluate the words of the prosecutor addressed to our people as humiliating and insulting. The court required clarification. Then I said the following, “Dear chairman, as you know, in 1991 there were presidential elections, when our people democratically, on an alternative basis, elected their president. If you agree with the opinion of the prosecutor, the people elected Karimov because of their unreadiness for democracy. Otherwise, they would have elected another candidate as president. This was the meaning of the prosecutor’s words. Then I suggested that the court record the words of the prosecutor in the minutes. The prosecutor retracted his own words with squeal.
Another equally important point! The chairman, taking out one sheet of paper from the case, turned to me and asked, “Is this your article? Did you also read it on Radio Liberty?” I recognized the text and answered in the affirmative.
“Here you write that in Uzbekistan, when adopting a law on the budget, there is absolutely no transparency. Right? Please, justify in which states and what kind of transparency?” I gave an example of the USA. Since 1998, the country’s economy received a 98 billion surpluses. Nevertheless, the budget law for 1999 was discussed for three months, but could not be adopted. Due to lack of funding to pay salaries, Clinton had to recall foreign ambassadors and consuls. Our Parliament adopts a budget law on first reading, without any discussion. After all, the state budget is formed by taxes levied from the population. So, people have the right to know about expenses. The Parliament should carefully and competently discuss all budget parameters. This is its sacred duty.
Unfortunately, from all that we said for the defense, the sentence included only that we didn’t plead guilty, and not in such a categorical form, as we reasonably proved in court, but so quietly, as linking words.
The sentence was written so that at the first reading it would be scary to relatives and friends who, contrary to the law, were not allowed in court. The international observers, who came, were also not allowed. The chairman of the court motivated this by saying that, I quote him literally, “This is a political court. Therefore, the judicial board found it unreasonable for outsiders to participate in the hearing.”
During the trial, we were kept in the basement of the Ministry of Internal Affairs. They placed me in the cell, which was one and a half meters wide and two meters long. In the middle of the bed, there was a ventilation pipe, which was so cold that it even formed frost. Lying near this pipe means losing health forever if you survive. The temperature inside the room was +8, +11, not more. There were no warm clothes. In order not to catch cold, I had to move all the time, moreover, they fed me very badly. They mocked to break us morally and physically so as not to leave the opportunity to competently defend ourselves in the process. The fact, that during the trial we were kept in the basement of the Ministry of Internal Affairs (that is, in the clutches of the authority that conducted the investigation), shows a gross violation of the law in the investigation process. August has come. Above +40 outside. I left the basement very frozen. I was shaking from the cold. From a sharp change in temperature, the entrails painfully hurt. At the trial, I could not recover for a long time. Our demands for transfer to the Tashturma were defiantly ignored.
I was charged that I allegedly systematically insulted the President Karimov on Radio Liberty. When I demanded to bring at least one defamatory word as evidence, they could not do it. They were not helped even by a linguistic expert in evaluating my publications. It is worth mentioning that when the court examines written materials, according to the Criminal Procedure Code, it can make a decision only based on a linguistic examination.
However, the court sentenced us to long years of imprisonment, me to 15 years. The first year I was in the colony 64\01. Further, without any signs of tuberculosis, I was transferred through a special hospital in Tashkent to the colony 64\36 in the city of Navoi (it was closed when Mirziyoev came to power). I am sure that the authorities planned my physical elimination only by first infecting with tuberculosis to further justify it to my relatives and world community. Thank God I didn’t get infected, although I often looked after seriously ill patients. At the end of 2003, the prison camp was visited by people from the International Committee of the Red Cross. Then I told the regional head of the organization, Maxim Gudko, that I was not tubercular patient. Then, under the supervision of the ICRC, an extraordinary fluorography procedure was carried out in the prison. As a result, 96 people, including me, were recognized as healthy and then transferred to work prison camp 64\47 in the city of Kyzyltepa in Navoi region.
In this prison camp, he worked as an unloader. Over the past ten years, I have unloaded 8 million 500 thousand hot bricks. It worked well, but despite this, at the end of the term I was added for far-fetched reasons another 3 years and 6 months. The man, tirelessly, worked hard for years and at the same time sought time to be a criminal and a malicious violator. It is funny and disgusting!
The trial on my case (extension of the term) took place in March 2014, when there were seven days left before my release, in the administrative building of the colony. And this was grossly contrary to the Criminal Procedure Code, which states that a trial must be conducted in the building of the court in which the case is being considered.
For my sake, they prepared a whole performance. In the building where the trial took place, almost all the officers of the colony, who served on that day inside the prison camp, were assembled. They lined up at the entrance to two lines and, when I arrived, began to threaten me with reprisal if I did not plead guilty and did not refuse a lawyer. I don’t know why, but such a scene inspired me even more to fight against such a shameful regime, because this is their insignificance before the truth, a feeling of their own weakness in front of the helpless person who is held captive.
The trial began. I appeal to the head of the colony, Lt. Col. Gadoev, “Dear boss! For ten years now I have been serving my sentence right before your eyes. For the previous six years you were the director of the factory where I worked as an unloader; for the past four years you have been the head of the colony. Please tell me, has there ever been a case during ten years when I didn’t comply with the daily norm for unloading bricks?” He shook his head.
Then they just read out the prepared sentence of imprisonment for three and a half years. When I left, I told the judge, “I am helpless, but you are more helpless than me!”
And so, with a new term, I was transferred to the colony 64\07 in the village of Tavaksay in Bostanlyk district of Tashkent region. Here I was completely isolated from the outside world: no meeting with relatives, no correspondence, no phone calls, no packages, or even parcels.
Inside the prison camp, I was strictly forbidden to talk with convicts, regardless of the criminal or political article. I needed everything. Toothpaste was a real dream for many months. Only reading books was not forbidden. I was convinced from my own experience that there are also such tortures by loneliness. In such conditions, I spent almost four dreadful years …
… After the death of Islam Karimov in 2016 and the appointment of Shavkat Mirziyoev as interim president, many prisoners were in a bad mood. Many, including myself, considered Mirziyoev a very cruel person.
However, soon liberal changes began in the country. I resolutely took up writing a complaint to the President. But the special unit of the colony came up with various tricks, so just not to send my letters. Under Karimov, for attempting to write a complaint, they mercilessly beat and locked prisoner in an isolation ward. Nevertheless, until June, the delivery was delayed, and in June they began the process of the next case for a new term.
On June 24, 2017, I was locked up in a punishment cell for washing towel, registered as a violation of the regime of detention. I had to officially declare an indefinite hunger strike. I drank only water.
On August 28, after a 64-day hunger strike, they brought me from the Tashturma back to the colony for trial and brought me to the chief’s office. There were the judge Karaev, the prosecutor, the lawyer proposed to me by the court, and several officers. The court decided to conduct a medical examination. The doctor, measuring my pressure, made a conclusion about the critical condition, and the court was postponed until September. At the same time, the judge said that if I don’t stop the hunger strike, the court can pronounce the verdict in absentia. Then I reminded him that according to the Criminal Procedure Code, he must ensure all the rights of the accused for defense, namely, to transfer the court session to the building and invite my relatives. The judge Karaev promised me to fulfill both requirements. I, in turn, promised him to stop the hunger strike as soon as I saw my relatives in the courtroom. On September 12, 2017, they brought me to the District Court of Bostanlyk. For the first time, during 18 and a half years, my relatives were allowed to the process. Previously, they only received the decision. For the first time, my relatives found out that I had nothing to do with the charges against me and guessed about their fabrication. The political motivation of the criminal case also became clear. This was my first step towards a big victory.
The court sentenced me to three years and ten days in prison. I appealed. On December 25, the appeals court upheld the verdict. I resumed the hunger strike and immediately filed a cassation appeal with the Supreme Court and simultaneously sent a complaint to the President. The case was examined by the President’s resolution in the Supreme Court. On February 23, 2018, I was released from custody in the colony 64\06.
At 23.40, accompanied by my brother and nephew, I arrived in the native village of Dzheynau, in the south of Kashkadarya region. I asked to turn the car towards the cemetery, where I worshiped at the graves of my father and mother, who never saw my release. Then I went into the mosque and made a prayer of thanks for the President, my colleagues, human rights defenders, like-minded people and all those who didn’t hesitate to believe in my innocence and wished for my speedy release. We came home at midnight. At the gate, we were met by about 400 people.
A month to 19 years! It’s beyond human understanding! I would not wish such a fate on worst enemy. During this time, I lost my parents and family, and broke my health. All this was only because I expressed an opinion that he considered correct.
I was freed thanks to the political will of Shavkat Mirziyoev. I really want him not to turn off the chosen political path, to show humanity to other convicts further. There are still many prisoners of conscience behind bars who deserve release and rehabilitation. This is necessary for everyone – the people and the state!
