trance, and young John Vashchenko was wrestled to the ground and taken away. Confused and frightened, the others ran into the consular waiting room and said they would not leave until they knew of John's fate. Nine days later, the news came. John had been beaten close to death and returned to Chernogorsk. “Stay in the embassy where you are safe, their children begged them by telephone. They needed little persuasion, and there they have remained, as unwelcome guests, since June 27, 1978. The State Department spent the first two months doing its best to force them out and into the waiting arms of the KGB. The embassy refused to allow them to shower or bathe, while As tourists in the Soviet Union, we were supposed to stay with the organized tour, but after arriving in Moscow. we ignored the itinerary and went straight to the US Embassy. By the second day, when we hadn't shown up for trips to Red Square, the Kremlin. GUM department store, a Bolshoi ballet performance or any of the scheduled meals, our Soviet Intourist guidea 40-ish woman named Svetlana-realized there was mischief afoot and reported us to the KGB. From then on, it was hide-and-seek in the Moscow subway system with men in dark blue raincoats who tried to follow us from our hotel. For good measure, they also went through our luggage daily in our rooms. After three days of playing cat and mouse, we finally showed up to join the tour group for a bus and train trip to the Russian countryside and Leningrad. Svetlana, who had clapped eyes on us only once or twice since we arrived in Moscow, was not amused. But the possible consequences of our actions were far from our thoughts during the three days and nights we spent with the Seven-all quite different individuals existing in an unlocked prison and culturally alien environment. Their room, which measures 15x20 feet, contains two single beds, a refrigerator, stove, sink, makeshift table (plywood lashed to a chair), radio, black-and-white television set, boxes of books and papers, and some maps and posters on the walls. Peter and Augustina share one bed; Maria sleeps on the other. Lida, Lila and Timothy share the floor space, and Lyuba curls up on the concrete outside in the corridor, where there are a washer, dryer and tiny bathroom. The room is clean, but the paint is peeling, the plaster flaking, the fumiture and appliances old and tired. By Siberian standards, it is more than adequate which the embassy quickly points out when asked why better accommodations aren't provided. The bugging devices and the constant presence of unfriendly Soviets foster an intense mood of paranoia. and the view into the street adds to the discomfort. Their window opens out at sidewalk level onto Chaikovskogo Street. Says Lyuba, who has learned to speak and write excellent English. "We sometimes watch the guards beat ing people when they try to get in. Once, we shouted for them to stopthey were killing a poor man. That night when we were asleep, the guards took a big ball of cotton, soaked it in oil, set it on fire and stuffed it in the window, filling the room with choking smoke. We were terrified. Down here, we are far away from the other Americans in the embassy" Having been treated like unwelcome guests, the families continually worry that the Americans will kick them out or curtail their privileges, and no amount of assurances seem to stem that fear. They are suspicious of every move the State Department makes even those on their behalf. It is the inevitable legacy of a lifetime fighting Soviet authority and then all but being kicked to the wolves when they thought they had found safe refuge at the embassy. They make no demands, ask for nothing and offer profuse thanks for everything that comes their way, from the embassy-supplied food to the handme-down clothing and occasional treats from friendly embassy staffers. "We're very upset when people think we're squatters," Lyuba says. "We didn't come here to occupy this room or stay this time. We are very grateful to Americans. No one has ever shown us such hospitality. We don't complain about the living conditions, and we don't ask for anything. Our only concern is freedom for our families." That's the bottom line now for the Seven the future safety of their families remaining in Chernogorsk. They are resolved not to leave the embassy until the other 10 Vashchenkos and five Chmykhalovs are allowed to emigrate a move some embassy optimists feel is possible if U.S.-Soviet relations improve. But the prevailing view seems to be that emigration from Chernogorsk at this time is unlikely. "At first, the Soviets regarded this as e trivial matter." a consular official told us. "Their message to us was. :Throw them out. For the first 22 years, they enjoyed seeing us squirm. Now it's no longer a simple emigration problem but a major political question to be dealt with at higher levels The Kremlin's stated position is that the Seven must leave the embassy. return to Chernogorsk and reapply for emigration Low-level Soviet officials have said the Seven will not be harmed or punished, but they refuse to put that in writing. American officials regard such assurances as worthless All of the Seven say they are not afraid to die but that they also are not about to sell their lives cheaply. "We won't leave this room willingly until our families are overseas. Lyuba inSists. "It we do leave, we're convinced the KGB will take us and kill our parents. But we aren't afraid." I asked Lyuba, a bright and articu late woman. her impressions of how the two superpowers have handled their case. They've been like two big cats fighting over a piece of meat." said, shrugging, as we sipped tea. she Her answer conveyed what had become obvious to us. The strains of the ordeal are beginning to take a toll physically and emotionally Maria Chmykhalov sits silently for hours on the edge of her bed, knitting sweaters, gazing at the floor, occasionally struggling to control bouts of silent weeping. Timothy, her youngest sona shy. gangling youth with a broad smile -was 16 when he entered the room. The 3 years of unnatural confinement with his mother and five members of another family have blunted many of the strong emotions that all teenagers struggle with. He used to exhibit a lively curiosity-he had be gun to learn English and liked to shoot baskets in the courtyard. Now he mostly sits in the room. T hings are no less difficult for the Vashchenkos. Peter had been an important lay leader in Chernogorsk, a rallying point for the Pentecostals in their fight with the authorities He is also the proud patriarch of his large family. Now he finds his formerly unquestioned authority undercut by the conditions in which he's forced to live. His wife. Augustina, desperately misses her other children-as does Maria Lyuba translated her reply to my question of what troubles her most. "I'd like to speak to all mothers around the world and ask them to imag ine the heartache that comes from being separated from a child. It's difficult to think that my youngest son, Abraham, who was 4 when I last saw him. is now a 7-year-old of school age. In 33 years of marriage, our family has been together for only 10 years. There have been the prisons, camps, mental hospital the state took the girls away for six years for reeducation The three younger Vashchenko women seem to draw strength from each other. They try to keep busy. Lyuba works hard on her English-the other women and Timothy also are learning--and spends much time writing and "We didn't come here to occupy this room or to stay this time... We don't ask for anything...Our only concern now is freedom for our families." Even though the Seven are relatively insulated inside the embassy, the Soviets manage to squeeze them emo tionally by pressuring their families in Chernogorsk. Through monthly tele phone calls, they have learned of a campaign in the local newspapers to depict them as traitors leeching off the Americans. The three Vashchenko sons also face imprisonment in labor camps for refusing military induction There was little that Jane Drake or 1 could tell the families in the way of encouraging developments except that President Reagan is known to be aware of and interested in their situation. It is crumbs of information like this that provide encouragement to the fami lies and help fortify their resolve During the final moments of our visit. I asked every family member if he or she had any final thought or message to be passed on to PARADE'S readers. Each thought for a long time. then said basically the same thing: Thank you for giving us refuge Please do not forget us. It seemed right to give Peter Vashchenko the final comment. I asked him, through Lyuba, whether- -after 20 years of trying to emigrate to America and considering his present plighthe was losing hope We didn't need the English translation. "Nyet," he roared."Nyet! Nyet!" The farewell was tough as any goodbye can be, and Peter Vashchenko's voice rang in our ears as we walked out of the courtyard for the last time, past the Soviet militiamen and into a cold Moscow night. The last part of our tour took us to Leningrad, and our stay there apart from searches of our luggage in the hotel rooms was uneventful But at the passport check at Leningrad am port, we knew we were in trouble when we saw Svetlana waiting for us I was near the front of the line. Jane Drake almost at the end, but it didn't matter While our 28 fellow tour mem hers were whisked through formalities in minutes, we were taken away. Exery piece of our luggage was meticu lously searched beneath the gaze of the militiamen. When nothing intim inating was found, we were taken separately into tiny windowless rOOMS I was strip searched and questioned The two customs men grew progressively angrier at not tinding whatever they thought I might have, and my assertions that we were simply inde pendent-minded tourists didn't help Mrs. Drake was allowed to keep her clothes on but was given a bad scare. After nearly an hour, they gave up. and we were allowed to board the plane to Helsinki Our film of the Siberian Seven and my notebook had sailed through customs in the purses of two young women travelers from our tour who had courageously agreed to help. The Soviets did confiscate film Jane Drake and I carried, but it was either blank or contained some rather boring shots of Leningrad's main street What You Can Do To Help The Siberian Seven The Soviet government is known to be responsive to American pub lic opinion, and the US State Department believes that a ground swell of protest may help shift the stalemate that keeps the families prisoner in our embassy. PARADE will forward your letters, which should be addressed to: Ambassador Anatoly Dobronin, Embassy of the USSR. clo PARADE magazine, 750 Third Ave, New York, NY. 10017. The seven family members draw encouragement from letters and cards. They should be sent airmail (40 cents each half ounce) to any of the seven to whom you wish to write. The address is: Peter Vashchenko (or other naine). Embussy of the United States. 19 Ulitsa Chatkovskogo, Moscow. USSR 117234. To receive more information and a regular newsletter on the campaign to free the Siberian Seven. write to: SAVE. Route 1, Box 49-A. Pike Road, Ala. 36064. Mr. BONKER. We shall now hear from Mr. and Mrs. Leonard Zakim. I think it is Joyce. Mrs. ZAKIM. Joyce, yes, sir. Mr. BONKER. Are both of you going to testify or just the one? Mr. BONKER. Please proceed. STATEMENT OF JOYCE ZAKIM, DIRECTOR, MEDICAL Mrs. ZAKIM. Mr. Chairman, members of the House Subcommittee on Human Rights, we are indeed honored to have been invited by this subcommittee to give testimony regarding our recent trip to the Soviet Union and our visit with the Russian Pentecostalists who are the subject of this important hearing. My name is Joyce Zakim and I am the director of Medical Mobilization for Soviet Jewry. This is a nonprofit, tax-exempt organization of physicians, dentists, and other health professionals which was formed in 1973 as a result of a deep concern over the status of Soviet Jews who are ill and ill-treated in the Soviet Union. The organization works in conjunction with action for Soviet Jewry and is a member of the Union of Councils for Soviet Jews. It is based in the Boston area and currently has chapters in Miami, San Francisco, Washington, D.C., Denver, and Chicago. We publicize incidents of psychiatric abuse in the Soviet Union, the plight of refusenik physicians, and cases of people deprived by the government of adequate health care. Our intent is to aid those denied proper medical care and to assist them in obtaining emigration visas. My husband, Leonard Zakim, is the Eastern States Civil Rights Director and Counsel to the Anti-Defamation League of B'nai Brith. The ADL is a national human relations organization with 29 offices around the country and offices in Paris, the Vatican, and Jerusalem. As the only organization that deals with the issue of anti-Semitism as our key priority, the ADL has long been at the forefront of the struggle for civil and human rights for all people. The ADL, for all of its nearly 70 years, has based its policy of combating bigotry on the recognition that anti-Semitism does not occur in a vacuum and that when one person is denied their fundamental human rights because of their religious beliefs, no one's liberty is safe. As a result of our organization's interest in the plight of Soviet refuseniks and motivated by our own personal concern about the derivation of human rights in the Soviet Union, we recently traveled there. Despite all we already knew, had heard or read about the plight of refuseniks, Jews and Christians alike, we were ill-prepared for the emotional and personal tragedy of uncertainty and despair that marks the daily life of the refuseniks with whom we met. These people, punished, persecuted, and ostracized for the crime of wanting to leave a country where observance of one's religion is itself a crime, live in a Kafkaesque no-man's land, unsure of the present and more unsure of their future. It is in this context and in this climate of repression that we visited the Pentecostalists, the Vashchenko and Chmykhalov families. The facts of their decades-long persecution, harassment, assaults, beatings, hunger strikes, and state-imposed separation from their children by the Soviet regime are well known to this subcommittee, as is their 4-year-long exile in the U.S. Embassy in Moscow. What we want to share with you today is our observations and discussions with the Vashchenkos and Chmykhalovs and to describe their present situation as of early June. This preceded their most recent hunger strike for freedom with which medical mobilization is especially concerned because of the physical damage such a protest can cause to their health. While we spent time and spoke with all of them, most of our discussions were with Lubov. They are sweet, unassuming, sincere people, quick to tell of their plight, the status of their family in Chernogorsk, the many unfulfilled promises, and their personal regrets at intruding and being an inconvenience for so long at the Embassy. Yet that story is told neither with cynicism nor bitterness; it is told with humility. It was a talk of disappointment and hope. It was a conversation in which Lubov's gratitude for the efforts of so many in the Congress and throughout the United States on the families' behalf was openly shared. She also indicated her appreciation for the help and support of many officials at the Embassy. She was not trying to "sell us" on her case. Indeed, the fact that her brothers and sisters were recently beaten by the Soviet police during a demonstration for their release was not even mentioned. Pity is not what they want; they want to leave. They are tired, physically and emotionally; tired of waiting, tired of finding endless routine things to do to pass their time, for they are unable, of course, to leave the confines of the Embassy. Most of the time they sit, think, daydream, and wait. Their files of correspondence of the last 4 years are meticulously kept and reviewed, often to pass the time, often to spark dissipating hopes. Much time is spent reading from the Bible, caring for plants, sewing. They recently were provided with a second room, allowing for a bit more privacy and space, yet mostly they wander around, staring out the one window in their room, worrying about the rest of their family in Chernogorsk, and working on their case. Watched constantly and with hostility by the many Russians working at the Embassy, glared at by the Soviet guard through whom you must pass to get inside in the first place, this is the epitome of the life between two worlds that has been their sentence for the last 4 years. STATEMENT OF LEONARD ZAKIM, NEW ENGLAND DIRECTOR, ANTI-DEFAMATION LEAGUE OF B'NAI BRITH Mr. ZAKIM. The perpetrator of this crime, yet to be held accountable by this administration is the Soviet Union. Although the Soviets bear responsibility for the campaign of terror, deprivation, and abuse of refuseniks, as well as of the Poles, Afgans, and other nations under their thumbs, it is a responsibility they do not share alone. As Liubov wrote on June 10, 1982: We think that both governments have handled the case carelessly; one constantly deceives, the other does not take any serious action to pressure the Soviets and make them tell the truth and act accordingly. They told us, with a concern we share and that we think you should, that their case is not really a priority for the U.S. Govern ment. They spoke with disappointment of Senator Percy's visit in 1980, not suspicious or ungrateful for his interest, but unhappy that he sought for them to return to Chernogorsk before he would pressure the Soviets for their release. A good-faith gesture like that is one they really cannot afford, and one they should not be asked to make, for it is one they will not be able to take back. Their remaining in the Embassy is the only bargaining chip they have. Our responsibility, the responsibility of our democratic nation, can be fulfilled if we will it; we, the American people must decide if we are ready to stand up and decide, in George Will's words, whether we love commerce more than we hate communism. Indeed, as appreciated and as needed are the words of compassion and commitment for the Pentecostalists that we speak today, what is needed is firm, intelligent, responsible and persistent action to secure the release of the thousands of refuseniks for whom we are their only hope. The recent news that came out yesterday in the papers indicated that the President was going to extend the grain deal with the Soviets for 1 more year without exacting anything back in return; this is of great concern to us. The perpetrators of these human rights violations are the Soviets and their crime is seen on the loving faces of the Pentecostalists, disillusioned but still hopeful, tired but still fighting on. But responsible too are those who can do more, but don't or won't. For without real action, words, wonderful in tone, serve only to raise expectations and produce shattered hopes. It was in this state of recent disillusion with those who should and could do more, that we found the Pentecostalists. For they and the many Jews we met were beside themselves with disappointment in the words and actions of the Reverend Billy Graham during his widely publicized visit to the Soviet Union. The Pentecostalists themselves preceded us by just a few days. Aghast at his exculpation of the Soviets for religious persecution, these daily victims of that persecution felt a deep sense of frustration and loss at the opportunity forfeited and surrendered by this respected religious leader to fulfill his reputation and his mission. Of course, Reverend Graham's motivations for his trip and for what he did and said on his trip are best known only to him. Let it be said that everyone we met there felt betrayed. The Pentecostalists had written Reverend Graham in anticipation of his trip and urged him not to come to the Soviet Union, for his visit they said would legitimize the Soviet propaganda that religious freedom was protected and that religious persecution could not exist in a workers' state. When it became clear he was coming anyway, they wrote him again, seeking a meeting, citing in that letter scripture after scripture regarding the responsibility of a prophet to his people. |