Mikhaleva: But why would people who had already been invested with power, why would those people stage a coup? In order to prove that they actually had power? After all, Kriuchkov and Yazov had plenty of power, they pretty much controlled the situation. So why would the people who had real power decide to stage a coup?
Kucher: You know what? They did not have power over the people. It was a strange situation. For this is a real mystery: what is the relationship between the people and the rulers? Even today, I do not understand what it should be. But I know that in one way or another, the people give the rulers their consent, which allows the government to carry out its policy. What the putschists did not have was that consent, they did not have influence among the people, they could not gain a sure footing. For that reason, they decided to destroy those who had and continued to gain influence among the people. Take our problems today [early 1992]. If it had been Pavlov who decontrolled prices, people would have torn him to shreds. It is a question of trust, and because people trust this government, they are not in revolt. That is why they are still tolerating both Yeltsin and [Yegor] Gaidar.
That is what the putschists did not have, that is what they had lost. Even though they had the opportunity to issue orders, to use all the trappings of this enormous state, they understood that people had an aversion to them. They were outside the people. How did this come about? I think that people had become so sick of this Party, sick of the corruption around them, sick of this small clique presiding over their lives, their apparent incompetence. People had grown to hate them so much that it was imperative for the Party bosses to do something. To throw tanks against the people? That, obviously, could not achieve the desired effect. So what they set out to do was to destroy a few democrats. They could have been effective had they carried out large-scale repression, had they managed to destroy physically the people who were on their list. But they failed. What they did not understand is that they would have had to destroy hundreds of millions in order to re-instill fear in people. People had lost fear.
Mikhaleva: Why?
Kucher: It was not the kind of army that could do that. I remember talking to one of the first tankers who arrived at the White House. I asked him: “Who are you?”
“We are Soviet,” he said.
“What the hell is Soviet?” I replied, “and what the hell did you come here for?”
Later on, I realized that this was not the right approach for talking to those people. They were frightened or something, they looked confused. For a soldier, to attack you had to be sure of yourself, and that is what they lost, they were not sure of themselves any more. This confusion created a vacuum, a split: they were not yet citizens of Russia, but they were no longer the soldiers of that old system. An army in such a psychological state is not capable of violence against the people. It is, in this sense, part of the people.
Mikhaleva: Returning to those three days at the White House, who were the people who impressed you most? What was the most memorable event?
Kucher: Government officials fleeing the White House looked to me like cartoon bureaucrats with briefcases. For the first time in my life, I was able to see what the apparat was really all about. They all looked alike, all carried similar-looking briefcases. The apparat was leaving the White House. In droves. That was the first, most memorable picture.
Second, I saw and felt—experienced for the first time—what it meant to make a real choice. I saw this in simple people. I saw this in militiamen, armed and wearing flack jackets. They were the first line of defense, and they would have been mowed down in the first few seconds of the attack. But they would not have turned back. People were facing possible death, just simple people, and they were standing firm—unlike the bureaucrats. I still carry this picture vividly in mind: some are fleeing, and some are standing firm.
And here is another impression that cuts deep into my memory. At moments of great stress, some people think only about themselves, about the opportunity to glorify themselves, to promote themselves. I saw in those days some individuals placed high in the government who, after the main danger had already passed, were asking for personal weapons. And they would sling those over the shoulder. It was clear that this was all make-believe. The same could be said about all those orators who suddenly appeared out of nowhere and began making fiery speeches after the coup had failed.
Mikhaleva: What about the situation inside the White House?
Kucher: To my surprise, the White House for a long time smelled of the people. It became democratic, totally democratic to the point that things were strewn around all over the place, canned food, heaps of bread loaves, cigarette butts on the floor, masses of people sleeping on the floor, including reporters. It was some kind of a revolutionary flophouse. Everything was simple, primitive even—not like today. Today you need a pass to get in, and you cannot even get into the cafeteria at Staraia Square.[88] The danger, the mortal danger people faced then, made you feel absolutely democratic. You felt like the other guy, it gave you a sense of solidarity, a great sensation of democracy. Nobody cared about rank or other distinctions—just people. Doors were open: feel free to come into any office. Everything there was in motion. But there was a time when the White House was practically empty, with only a few individuals staying put. It was when orders were issued for everybody to leave the White House by five in the afternoon. The attack was expected. So there were ten, maybe twenty minutes, the most tragic twenty minutes, when the entire building was empty while outside a sea of people was lapping at the White House walls. In those moments, the White House was quiet and empty—like a bomb shelter, with a few security people armed to the teeth (originally, there was little weaponry around).
Mikhaleva: Was it true that merchants came to the barricades with loads of food and cigarettes to distribute free of charge to the defenders of the White House?
Kucher: Yes, that was true, there were mountains of sausage at the White House, mountains of bread, cigarettes, tea, and so on. Indeed, the White House reeked of smoked sausage and baked bread for weeks afterward. Businessmen were not the only ones who were responsible for this cornucopia; the White House supply staff had done a lot also. I recall when General Kobets was only beginning to think about organizing the defense of the White House, practically the first thing he thought about was finding portable toilets. And he did find some. There was also a lot of intelligence gathering, tracking of the putschists’ moves: for example, the headquarters at the White House were aware of every airplane takeoff and landing on the territory of the Soviet Union; they knew about every movement of troops. They were receiving confidential information from the General Staff, of course. Then, deputies were sent to meet with the troops on the Garden Ring Road….
But let me tell you that some people were making money on it, too. One guy approached me and offered me something for money. He was speculating. I mean that even amid these tragic events, some members of the intelligentsia elite were seeking to promote themselves, some of the common folk were looking for opportunity to make a profit. That, too, was part of the picture, as it always happens when really big events take place—the good was side by side with the bad, the tragic, side by side with the ridiculous.
88
Now the executive headquarters of the Russian government, the buildings on Staraia (Old) Square formerly belonged to the Central Committee of the CPSU.