The latest spectacle in the "Khodorkovsky trial" theatrical series:
On 3 March of the year 1585, the first-ever theatre in a building purposely built for it opened in Vicenza (Italy). The "Teatro Olimpico" exists to this day and is the oldest theater in the world.
On 3 March of the year 2009, the latest act in the "Khodorkovsky trial" theatrical cycle opened in Moscow (Russia). They did not build a special building - they decided that the building of the Khamovnichesky Court would do just fine.
By the way, there weren't very many police at all: maybe ten - at one end of 7th Rostovsky alley, and four dozen (half - in an avtozak [paddy wagon] and a bus) - on the other.
A policeman eyeing Grigory Pasko suspiciously from inside an avtozak (Photo by Grigory Pasko)
It seemed to me that there were more journalists than police. That is, given the occasion, they might have dared to not even notice the cops. But they didn't dare. They went in decorously. A girl to the left of the metal detector checked off the arrivals against lists of requests to attend the show. A woman in the middle - let people through the metal detector, proposing that they dump anything that jangles out of the pockets. A little man to the right wrote down who and from where in a thick notebook and looked at a document.
Journalists trying to get into the courthouse (Photo by Grigory Pasko)
A request for me had not been received, therefore I had to leave my photo gear in the police cloakroom, that is right next to the duty officer. After the metal corners of my passport set off the metal detector, I entered into the courthouse proper. No fewer than a hundred colleagues had already gotten in before me.
An apple wouldn't be able to find a place to drop on the third floor. Therefore, soon, driven on by the commands of the bailiff, the journalists without cameras poured down to the floor below, into a hall where three large plasmas had been set up. On them could be seen Khodorkovsky's and Lebedev's lawyers, the procurators, and the judge's bench. Something could be glimpsed behind the lawyers' table: a cage enclosed in tinted glass. I've seen many a cage in my day, I've even spent time in a few myself, but I'd never set eyes on a marvel like this before.
Khodorkovsky's unique tinted-glass cage may be more impermeable than the Popemobile (Photo by Grigory Pasko)
After about five minutes of this silent movie, the bailiff came out and turned off the televisions. The people began to make noise and to laugh. The bailiff clarified in a quiet voice that the preliminary hearings were closed, so there wouldn't be a movie today.
On the street, the cameramen of television channels of the whole world were working in full force. I got the impression that this must be the first time they'd ever seen 7th Rostovsky alley and that they were so smitten by its beauty (the Turkish embassy and the library named after Gaidar) that they were trying to capture it all for posterity. Or maybe they were waiting for Khodorkovsky or procurator Shokhin to jump out the window?
Reporters, supporters, and plainclothesmen mingling outside the courthouse (Photo by Grigory Pasko)
A noise from the direction of the former Krasnoluzhsky (now Bohdan Khmelnitsky) bridge across the river Moscow attracted my attention. Coming closer, I saw a small group of perhaps 20 young people who were chanting "Medvedev, release Khodorkovsky!" Medvedev, being found at this time in Spain, obviously didn't hear them. But the OMONovites standing close by did. One of them, the leader, warned the kids to cease yelling. They continued. In the wink of an eye, hefty and stout cops scooped up three of the active ones under the arms and carried them away to a bus. "For shame!", - loudly shouted the girls and then, even louder: "Freedom for political prisoners!"
Police arresting pro-Khodorkovsky protesters (Photo by Grigory Pasko)
At that, the show in this corner ended. It could be seen that even the cops regretted that it was over, because all of a sudden they were bored again with nothing to do.
...But the show in the building of the Khamovnichesky court continued. And it will continue, as the bailiffs in the court are saying, for another half year and more. The day of the premiere was obviously a success for the organizers: the journalists were satisfied that a place was found for all of them - some in the courtroom before the start of the hearings, some in the "telehall"...
...But the premiere of Georges Bizet's opera "Carmen", which took place on 3 March of the year 1875 in Paris, was a total flop.
