“At the trial I will admit that I was, and still am, the spiritual father of those who tried to take over the plane. That’s why the main responsibility must be laid upon me.”
“And are you ready to confirm, also in court, your role as the leader even if you know you’ll be given a harsh sentence?”
“I’m ready for anything if I’m confident in saving their lives.”
“In that case, you should know you may be sentenced to death. Are still not frightened?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I am a man of the Church and God will protect me. No one will protect them if they are sentenced to death.”
“So, are you taking the whole responsibility and the highest penalty upon yourself, because you still hope to survive?”
“No, I haven’t said that. What I mean is that since no one might be able to protect and save me, but only I can save them by doing this.”
“But our opponents might still have some questions. Like why the person who planned everything didn’t board the plane?”
“That’s exactly why I deserve to be shot and not them. It was I who deceived them and sent the others to their destruction. I encouraged these young people while I hid in the monastery.”
“Will you repeat this in court?”
“If only I am sentenced to death and save the others with my testimony, I’ll confess to anything that you consider necessary”
“I think we have arranged all the details, but we still have some questions left.”
“I have a question left too.”
“Which is?”
“I’d like to know what their sentence will be.”
“That depends on you, since the others may deny you masterminded the hijack.”
“They’ll probably do that, too.”
“And in such case, what will you do, what will you say in court?”
“I’ll say that they didn’t tell me the exact date they were going and that they took another plane.”
“You will tell a lie?”
“I’ve never told a lie and everything I’m telling you is the truth.”
“Don’t worry about that, we are less interested in the truth. The priority is that you say what’s good for our case. For the purpose of state interests, even lying isn’t a crime.”
“But I really feel guilty, because I was their confessor and I should bear the responsibility.”
“Don’t worry about that either. You are going to bear the responsibility in full.”
“I’ve told you, I’m ready for anything in exchange for saving their lives.”
“We’ve already told you that their sentence depends on your testimony.”
“I’ll say everything as you prefer it, but they must be spared. They are still very young and they must live on.” Long held back tears welled up in his eyes and the monk’s voice trembled, but no one heard his last words. The investigators had left the room.
“Let’s go back to the cell, Father,” said the guard as the monk stood up.
When they were following the long, half-lit passage, the guard told the monk in a whisper, almost apologetically.
“I’ve read only half of it so far, Father, I’m a bit slow at reading.”
“It’s the kind of a book that you should read slowly.”
“I’ll give it back to you next week.”
“You don’t have to give it back.”
“Don’t you need it anymore?”
“Everyone needs that book.”
“That means you need it too.”
“I’ve got another one.”
“Thank you, Father.”
“Say thanks to the Lord.”
“I want to say something to you too.”
“Go on.”
“You have never come out of the interrogation room so elated.”
“Not elated. Pleased, probably. There’s no joy around here.”
“Does it exist at all?”
“Real joy exists elsewhere.”
“Where?”
“In another world.”
“Where?”
“When you read that book to the end, you’ll understand everything.”
“I already want to understand some things.”
“And what is that?”
“The reason for your being pleased.”
“The trial will be held soon and all of this will end.”
“Is it going to end like you think it will?”
“The main thing is that it will end…”
The Trial
It was called the court of justice, but in reality there was no indication of justice. The hearing was scheduled nine months after the beginning of the investigation, though most of the witnesses were not even interrogated. Soviet law had no provision for the length of the investigation term, but it was clear that the authorities were in an extreme hurry to pass a verdict for the plane hijackers.
The trial began on August 1st, just when everyone is try to escape the scorching heat of the capital. The heat in the beginning of August in Tbilisi is notoriously so unbearable that even those sheltered in summerhouses close to the city flee to the sea in Western Georgia. Tbilisi would be empty, ensuring the authorities that it would be unlikely people would protest against the trial. Like a badly staged play, the government wanted a quick ending and made sure that only the parents of those on trial would attend the hearing.
Most of the audience in the courtroom was made up of KGB employees, and only the parents of the accused were permitted to attend. No one else, including former passengers of the hijacked plane, were there. Of the passengers allowed in, only those who would say exactly what the authorities wanted were selected. Despite this, none of these witnesses claimed that any of the accused were murderers.
Several days later, the verdict was scheduled. The night before, they summoned one of the passengers to meet with the KGB. He was quite an elderly man who, apart from his age, had been broken down by grief. His only son was in prison. He had been there for several years because of a traffic accident.
Though they gave him some water for his nerves, the man was so frightened and agitated he could not calm down until he was told the reason for his summons to the KGB. What they told him was probably worse than he expected. He only fully understood it the next day at the trial. He sat in the KGB official’s room and nodded to the people in suits, while wondering why their ties were not choking them in such heat.
At the start, they were evasive.
“Your son’s been in prison for the five year already.”
“Yes.”
“It must be very hard for you.”
“It is.”
“You probably want him to get out soon.”
“Yes, I do.”
“You might know that sometimes the prison term for some prisoners can be reduced and they can be released.”
“Yes.”
“You must be missing your son.”
“I am.”
“You probably know that only those prisoners who behave well are released.”
“Yes.”
“Or their parents.”
“Yes.”
“Or their parents behave well…”
“Yes.”
“For instance, you can assist us, so that your son is freed from prison before his term is over.”
“Yes.”
“I hope you want to help your son.”
“I do.”
“But you don’t know how.”
“Yes.”
“Yes you know, or yes you don’t?”
“Yes.”
“Yes what?”
The elderly man asked for more water, drained the glass, and asked for more. Only when he drank the second glass, was he able to utter what must have been the longest statement in his entire life:
“My wife used to write appeals for pardon. She still does. Everyone says it was the fault of the person, who is dead now, who crossed the street in the wrong place, but…”
“But nothing?”