Tetiana Chornovol on Her Involvement in the Euromaidan Protests – Translation of an Article for Tsenzor.net

Tetiana Chornovol, for Tsenzor.net,  “A Possible Arrest, KMDA, the Eyes of Berkut…”

Lately I’ve been folllowing the principle of Bahrianyi: “The brave are always happy.”  I must say that it’s worked out.  Under Yanukovych, I was able to get away with a little, including these things among others:  for example, wearing a t-shirt with V.F.Ia. (Viktor Fyodorovych Yanukovych) shot in the head, or cutting up his watchtower for hunting a bunch of animals in Sukholuchchia. 

But it seems like I’ve exhausted my immunity.  The SBU is getting ready to arrest me. 

There’s only been a delay because they are looking for a convenient moment when the negative consequences are minimal.  Because they need a special operation to arrest someone who exposed mega-crimes by the state, be it stealing three KamAZ trucks full of 100-dollar notes from Naftohaz, be it Yanukovych’s corrupt interests in “Boiko’s Rigs” – one, say, that will get this person arrested for breaking some windows. 

Thus I decided that I need to tell what I really did, and what I didn’t do.  Because I am sure that in criminal cases ordered by the state that will result in my arrest, events from a parallel world far away from reality will become their subject of investigation. 

I am a sincere person in general.  I am always ready to explain my motives and accept responsibility for my actions.  The first thing I want to say is that I am not an innocent victim.  On paper, I can be incriminated for something.  The state and the system of repression that serves it regard me to have committed illegal actions.  But… when the law becomes unjust, justice becomes the law.  And I believe that my 42,000 voters who supported me in the 2012 Supreme Rada elections delegated me with the right to commit such acts.  I didn’t promise them porridge, I didn’t promise to fill holes in roads or get new windows for clubs.  In every meeting with voters, I promised them a Maidan.  I promised to overturn Yanukovych’s regime.  I promised to free (Yulia) Timoshenko and be on the front lines of the struggle.  And my actions abide by this program. 

And by the way, I’m even happy that my victory in the Supreme Rada elections was stolen, that I didn’t get a deputy’s seat despite the enormous support of voters.  It’s because due to this, I didn’t receive parliamentary immunity.  And now no one can claim that what I’m doing is for PR, because, admit it, it’s dubiously effective PR if I risk getting 10 years in prison for it.  

Just for seizing the Kyiv City Council Building (although really it was the liberation of it, and I initiated this), criminal cases were brought up under 5 articles in the criminal code: article 194 (intentional destruction or damage of property), article 294 (mass disorders), article 341 (seizing state or public buildings and structures), article 342 (resisting a state official, a law enforcement agent), and article 345 (threatening or committing violence against a law enforcement agent).  Committing two out of this list of crimes results in 10 years in prison. 

And this is no joking matter.  These charges were already brought up against those arrested for the Kyiv City Council case.  In particular, Lviv photographer Oleh Panas faced such charges, even though he didn’t seize the Kyiv City Council Building.  The court’s decision to jail him for two months was vengeance for what he, as a photographer, had done photographing bestial acts by Berkut during the storming of the Maidan on November 30.  It was his photos which circulated in Ukrainian and western media. 

Recently Oleh was conditionally released.  For me, this was especially good news, because it was also my fault that Oleh was arrested, because they charged him with my case.  I was the one who initiated and carried out the freeing or seizing of the Kyiv City Council, and in general, I was ready to face the consequences for the broken windows, and it’s good that parliamentary immunity didn’t protect me. 

Indeed, I’m not hurrying to give myself up, because it’s possible I can still do more that will be useful for the revolution. 

And now I’ll tell you what really happened at the Kyiv City Council. 

How a Group of Activists Saved Kyiv City Council from Burning Down

It’s already become clear that the state is cobbling together a mega-case, and it will look like a huge, powerful terrorist group like “Al Quaida” seized the Kyiv City Council. 

The SBU already summoned the leader of my 2012 election campaign for for questioning (in the SBU’s central office in Kyiv).  They did the same to my campaign representatives, the leaders of my district campaign headquarters, and my lawyer.  All of these people live in Lviv, and most of them were not even in Kyiv during the freeing/seizing of Kyiv City Council. 

The SBU also started calling in for questioning people who had called me on my mobile phone on December 1 (Note error in orginal: “January 1” – translator) and the day before.  Thus, the investigators are actively digging up things on me. 

And they are doing this not because of just me.   The Kyiv City Council case is revenge for not succeeding in realizing the scenario they’d planned for Kyiv City Council. 

The scenario was simple:  set fire to the KMDA (Kyiv City State Administration). 

A fire in the immediate vicinity of the Maidan, where hundreds of thousands of people were – this would not only become a source of panic and possibly result in a stampede that would have injured people.  It without doubt would have become an excuse for “clearing” the Maidan.  The state of course would have made the opposition responsible for it. 

And so the current criminal case is revenge for not succeeding in realizing this scenario.

Here is the proof. 



This is a bag of napalm left behind.  I took a photo of it near Kyiv City Council not long after the storming of it.  Note how there was so much napalm in just one bag. 

There was also a bag of baseball bats left behind. 

The organizers knew well that Kyiv City Council had reinforced glass, which could only be broken with the help of bats.  Thus, napalm came along with this strike weapon from the world of sports. 

I didn’t know this, so I tried to break a window with a plastic hammer used for pavement stones.  It’s a good instrument for hitting things, but it didn’t affect reinforced glass…


Why didn’t the burning down of Kyiv City Council happen?  It’s because incidents sometimes move history.  A coming together of the smallest circumstances and the small deeds of individuals can ruin the best of plans. 

And now I’ll describe what happened. 

I’d had the idea of freeing Kyiv City Council on my mind for a whole week.  Because on November 24 (October 24 erroneously in the original – translator), hundreds of thousands of people took to the streets.  And the next week, there was just a bunch of people on the Maidan.  People simply couldn’t take being out in the cold and dampness.  They needed somewhere to get warm, to sleep. 

Where else could they do this if not in Kyiv City Council?  A community building is the property of the people of Kyiv, and at a time like this, the people now needed most a free place somewhere near the Maidan for warmth and a roof over their heads.  If Viktor Yanukovych had not banned Kyiv Council elections, the majority of its deputies would have been in opposition to him, and the deputies themselves would have opened the building’s doors to people. 

But this didn’t happen.  Thus, Kyivans received the right to introduce direct rule by the people.  Thus people from the Maidan going over to Kyiv City Council was the legitimate thing to do. 

Moreover, I came to the conclusion that I could and should take on a difficult, unwelcome job – opening up Kyiv City Council. 

The official political opposition shouldn’t have done it.  When hundreds of thousands of people take to the streets, it’s very important to keep a protest peaceful.  Thus leaders of the political opposition are supposed to call on people to exercise restraint and calm down hot tempers. 

So my plan was this:  While the head of the column of protestors put up tents on the Maidan and drew the attention of all law enforcement organs, I would encourage people in the rear to take over the Kyiv City Council’s building.

When my column came to Kyiv City Council from Mykhailivs’kyi Square, I finally decided that we needed to do this. 

I ran up to Kyiv City Council, I jumped up onto a window sill, and with a plastic hammer for breaking up pavement stones that I’d bought at Epitsentr, I tried to break the glass in the office where the Kyiv City Council guard sat.  Others with hot tempers, who knew what I was trying to do, joined me.  I had expected this, because Kyiv City Council a long time ago had become a fortress symbolizing the state’s  “mess.”    

I got help breaking through the window to the guard’s room.  Why there?  Part of my strategy was this.  First, because the other rooms could have been closed.  Second, so that I could put psychological pressure on the Kyiv City Council guard. 

Indeed, the guard couldn’t have seen what was going on, because he was sitting under the window, behind a plastic barrier.  He could only hear noise from the glass falling.  Thus, we had an unexpected surprise for ourselves. 

We put a chair on the table near the barrier so that we could climb over and fall right on the guard’s head.  I started telling policemen, “Guys, we’re one team.  We’re with you against Yanukovych.  There’s a hundred thousand peole on the streets.  The important thing is that you don’t get hurt.  Go away.”  The police didn’t resist, and they quietly disappeared.  At first I thought we had floored security; we had made so much noise while entering that it seemed like a hundred thousand people had surrounded Kyiv City Council. 

However, now I think that the guard had been given a secret order to leave the building if unnamed people who were to burn down Kyiv City Council made it inside. 

Then I went outside in triumph.  Security was gone.  The Kyiv City Council’s entrance was wide open.  You could just open the door and enter the hall of columns.  It was simply an ideal storming of a building.  Unless you count the broken glass, nothing was harmed. 

And here, an unexpected problem emerged:  people didn’t want to go in.  They started yelling, “Provocation!”  It turned out that I’d made one mistake.  I didn’t consider the fact that the loudspeakers going through Khreshchatyk on cars began shouting that this was a provocation.  And people went after the “provocateurs,” i.e., they went to fight me.  However, this wall of aggressive people who went after guys in masks, who grabbed them by the arm, who punched anyone they could – it was exactly these people who saved Kyiv City Council.  It was exactly then when the real provocateurs hired by the state to burn down the building came.  They were disoriented!   Imagine, they had seen their planned operation partly carried out, windows broken.  What were they supposed to do?  And besides that, because they were in masks, some excited, battle-ready grandmothers attacked them.  How could you throw napalm through windows in a situation like that?  You had to save yourself.  The provocateurs dropped their bags and fled. 

Only one of them made it into Kyiv City Council and carried out his orders:  he broke glass in the hall.  Thus, the state, thanks to this one “hero,” got the chance to accuse us of inciting a pogrom, although breaking glass barriers near the coat room and small windows near the toilets, believe me, made no sense. 

By the way, one Cossack grabbed this provocateur when he fled Kyiv City Council and went after people with a big knife in his hand.  “I broke his arm, I took the knife, and I broke its blade,” a man told me and even showed me where he had kept the rest of the weapon. 

When all this happened, I explained to people through a megaphone that I came here unmasked, and that I was not afraid to bear responsibility for the broken glass.  The important thing, I said, was that Kyiv City Council was free and that it could serve Kyivans’ interests. 

I had just 15 minutes to convince people that this wasn’t a provocation.  “So why don’t we go in?” finally said women who 5 minutes before were ready to tear my eyes out.  But it turned out that the police meanwhile were able to figure out what was going on, and a small group of them blocked the hallway entrance to Kyiv City Council. 

Then activists from the Freedom Party (Svoboda) came and pushed out the police, and the people took Kyiv City Council. 

So, because of many coincidences, the state’s plan for a mega-provocation at Kyiv City Council was foiled, and the Maidan got a place for warming up and sleeping.  And most importantly, Kyiv City Council, as an institution for the people, was freed from criminal usurpation by the Party of Regions, Yanukovych, and “theft ring dealers” of Kyiv property.   

By the way, I spent the night in Kyiv City Council when there was simply nowhere else to go.  The fact is that before the first of December (“January” in the original, an error – translator), I felt that it wasn’t worth spending the night at home. 

It was then – in the middle of the night, after I went to my house to grab my things, when I was leaving –  that I saw someone trailing me.  They changed cars constantly, like in the movies.  On the Boryspil’ highway, in the “Lisnytstvo” district, I turned into a woods and hit my car behind some trees.  I waited for an hour, then I decided that I needed to get out of there somehow.  However, I got lost in the night woods, and unexpectedly, I went out to the Boryspil’ highway at the same place I’d entered with my car.  And there were three cars waiting right there, right on an overpass crossing the highway.  One of the cars was a minibus with darkened windows.  I was generally worried, because usually emergency arrest units travel in those things, and I’d just been involved in an incident with damaging an illegal SBU listening vehicle, which de facto had produced a criminal case against me. 

I drove right into their eyes, because the lights would make it hard to identify a car right away.  Until they recognized me, I was already ahead.  All three cars, like little puppies, pursued me, and we rushed down the Boryspil’ highway.  How I got out of that chase, I have no idea even now… I probably got lucky.  Or maybe it helped that I grew up in the Kharkivs’kyi residential district, and I knew the area and its backways. 

Maybe they let go of me on purpose, because I’d already run into sympathy from the police on a number of occasions. 

Regardless of that, I didn’t come home again after that incident.  For some reason, I have no desire to see if the SBU have given my abode an order for my arrest or not.  But I’m always ready to go to “Mizhhir’ia,” even if they have 10 criminal cases and orders for my arrest. 

At first I slept with friends, but far from the Maidan, and these friends had small kids…

Thus one night, I said to myself, “You took Kyiv City Council so that people could sleep there, go there and sleep.” 

I spent the night on a second-floor balcony, behind the “Fatherland” Party banner.  I took a foam mat, a bag with my personal things for a pillow, and I put my hard hat next to me.  All the minimal comforts.  I laughed – it was simply like something from the Middle Ages.  But I slept okay, especially considering the next morning, after a sleepless night on the barricade on Hrushevs’kyi Street, when I slept on a car that was blocking the back entrance to the Cabinet of Minister’s inside yard. 

But it wasn’t bad there, either.  In fact, just the opposite – I slept more soundly than ever before.  I’d become indifferent to the cold, and even announcements from the Khreshchatyk metro station about stations being closed, and chatter among passerby about the metro being mined, lulled me to sleep instead of alarming me.  And the most important thing, I began to think that if the state started to unblock the government district, in any case, I wouldn’t oversleep it, because they’d have to “clear out” my car, too. 

At first I worried all the time that they would break up Kyiv City Council.  Thus I stayed near it, because, you could say, I had a moral obligation to be there during a storming of it.  But now I’m not worried about Kyiv City Council.  It certainly will be the last object that the state takes over.  As the storming of December 11 showed, Svoboda organized a splendid defense of Kyiv City Council. 

By the way, before the state began operations to clear the Maidan on December 11, I went right to Kyiv City Council, because there was a hint that they were going to storm it. 

But the atmosphere was so relaxed at the hall of columns that I got lost in time and space.  And Svoboda activists even invited me to eat with them.  They opened a huge kettle, which had a special Svoboda dish in it: meat on top of meat, and just a few carrots and potatoes.  It was fantastically delicious.  After that I stretched back and relaxed; they even had WiFi here.  I opened Ukrains’ka Pravda and read that there was going to be a storming of the Maidan at 1 a.m.  I looked at it after 1.  I jumped out of my chair out of surprise; the chair probably jumped up with me.  I ran outside.  I saw people rushing around on Instytuts’ka Street already.  I went there; Kyiv City Council was defended without me. 

But what a great defense they made! 

I ran up to Kyiv City Council at the very end of it all. 


By then, water poured from hoses from the second floor in minus 10 degrees celsius weather had given a cold shower to Berkut’s desire to go into Kyiv City Council, and the “stormers” hid in busses. 

I tried to get into Kyiv City Council, but the entrance doors were so well barricaded that I couldn’t do it.  I tried to get to the windows from the roof of a Berkut bus, but this, too, didn’t work.

So I could get into Yanukovych’s “Mizhhir’ia,” but not into Kyiv City Council guarded by Svoboda.  Draw your own conclusions! 

SBU Car Damaged by State Guards

But I know that there is a great desire to arrest me over THERE, although I have a degree of immunity.  It’s hard anyway to arrest an investigative journalism pioneer (when it comes to dealing with the illegal privatization of “Mizhhir’ia”) and the author of a series of publications about the Donets’k mafia’s activities.  Although I don’t call myself a journalist on principle.  I left my journalist ID and accreditations at home on purpose, so that the temptation to protect myself with it would not cross my mind. 

When I’m called a journalist, I honestly get irritated.  Because I don’t regard myself as a journalist.  Because in a country that has no freedom of speech, there can be no objective journalism.  Because I wound up on different sides of the barricade with many of my colleagues whom I love and esteem, because they continue to hold to the classic standards of journalism that briefly could be called being “against everyone.”  But in today’s revolutionary situation, maintaining neutrality means playing on Yanukovych’s team. 

However, it’s not clear how long I will be able to defend my journalist past and what I achieved in sensational journalistic investigations, the lion’s share of which have been dedicated to Yanukovych. 

Finally, the state arrested Andriy Dzyndzia, a journalist and “Road Control” activist, and Viktor Smoliy, a well-known lawyer, although they, too, had a degree of protection through their notoriety and popularity.  It only happened because they over THERE really wanted it.  Because Dzyndzia and his TV camera got involved in every flashpoint.  Because he organized people around himself.  Because he was ready to take decisive actions.  Because he lacked ill ambitions and was ready to come help. 

Personally, he helped me more than once in covering opposition actions.  The last time I saw him was just before his arrest, when he organized a procession of cars to Mizhhir’ia.  I told him, “You’re the coolest revolutionary.”  The next day, they arrested him.  They took him despite all his popularity. 

I also feel that THERE, they want me, too.  And if they get me, just like Dzyndzia, they won’t let me go.  It will be a serious, long-lasting deal.  Not because I am bothering anyone in particular, but because it’s hard to figure me out, and sometimes I make unpleasant surprises.  Because it will be about revenge, especially since I have irritated V.F.Ya. for a long time.  I simply feel that a final decision on me was taken after November 25. 

The day when the Maidan exploded came just before this day.  It was then when hundreds of thousands of Kyivans showed up to the protest.  Essentially I lived and worked the past three years to see this day.  Everything that I did was to shake up the ship and cause the Maidan to erupt. 


My spirit was truly soaring then, because I saw Ukrainians overcoming the Khokhol mentality summed up by the saying, “it’s none of my business.”  The fact that people were taking to the streets, and also with national flags, meant that Ukraine had a future.  It meant that Yanukovych would just become a fragment of a period of history that would soon be forgotten.  He couldn’t become that evil genius who would destroy my country. 

With such lofty feelings, I spent time on the Maidan until early the next morning, and close to 9 a.m., I went home to sleep. 

However, when I went out to the Naberezhne Highway, I understood that it was too early to relax.  I saw that the police had closed off the road. 

I knew that Yanukovych had to go down it.  I suddenly decided that I didn’t just have to sit here.  I had a chance to do something.  I had to put some pressure on Yanukovych.  He’s well-known to be paranoid.  So I needed to show him by all means possible that the country’s changed, that the people around him are no longer indifferent, insecure, and frightened. 

And in this instance, I personally had a chance to get on his nerves.  So I decided to stop Yanukovych’s procession.   

I left my car a kilometer from Poshtova Square and returned to the tunnel by way of a path over the bend. 

This was my plan.  The road narrows in the vicinity of the tunnel.  The procession couldn’t go quickly through it.  And also, if you throw a coat on the part of the road in front of the procession, you could make a car stop.  In addition, I had a T-shirt on me with the slogan, “We’ll defeat the mafia,” and the image of V.F.Ya. with a red dot on his forehead, which could add to my act’s political message. 

So I went down to the road.  Unfortunately, a policeman noticed me.  He rushed after me.  However, I still had a chance to get away, and I ran away from him in the direction of the tunnel.  Law enforcement agents also came at me from the other side.  However, I still had a chance; I saw lights ahead of me that were quickly getting close.  I was happy; I was going to do it. 

But it turned out that I was prematurely celebrating.  This wasn’t the procession.  It turned out that the first car for Yanukovych’s guards got wind of a troublemaker and rushed ahead.  It caught me.  I had rushed out onto the road too early. 

The car’s guards recognized me right away.  “Chornovol again,” reported a senior officer to his superiors.  He asked what they should do with me.  His superiors told him to get me away from there, and the state guards kindly gave me a ride to a metro station. 

On the way there, we talked about politics and corruption, and the guys also asked why I spraypainted Kyiv with the slogan, “Freedom to Yulia,” since it was hard work.  Then I asked them why they combat these slogans, why they so mercilessly paint over them.  “It could lead to an escalation of conflict,” answered a state security agent.  In other words, these slogans wreck society’s indifference and lack of self-confidence.  “That’s actually why I do it, guys,” I replied to the guards. 

Also, I do this because it’s the least I can do for a person who’s wound up in prison because she’s Yanukovych’s Enemy Number One. 

When Yulia (Timoshenko) was in power, I criticized her.  Now, when she’s in prison, I support her.  I think it’s a more noble thing to do than the opposite. 

So we talked so amicably, but then something especially revolting was troubling my soul, something that happens only when you make a mistake.  I thought it was a mistake that I went out onto the road early.  

However, I realized later that it wasn’t me who had made a mistake, but the state guards who had let me go, although they had the right to keep me at least at the district police station for a while.  Because when they let me go, I got enough sleep, and after that, I went to European Square, and there I broke a hatch in the car of an illegal SBU bugging machine.  As a result, the opposition got very thick archives of illegally bugged calls. 

Thus, since then, I’ve felt that they over THERE really want to correct that mistake they’d made. 

By the way, (Arseniy) Iatseniuk and (Oleksandr) Turchynov wanted to make me go abroad.  But I categorically refused to do it.  Because indeed, I had no choice.  Because if I go against my own principles, I destroy myself…

Finally, I always said openly that I was ready to go all the way.  The country has many good journalists, but it doesn’t have enough people who speak out in public, those who not only can say that they are ready to sacrifice themselves for the country’s sake, but actually do it.  I think that exactly this was the reason why society had become not confident of itself and indifferent over the past three years. 

The Eyes of Berkut

And finally, so that I don’t get “set up” with this charge, I’m not a terrorist.  Just the opposite – I’m a humanist. 

I think that one can shed blood, but… only one’s own.  I’ve been to scenes of military conflict, and I’ve seen with my own eyes what war is. 

When I was 21 years old, I found myself in Groznyi.  I remember well that moment when I stood all alone among the ruins of a dark Groznyi, littered with mines, drunken warriors, death, and fear, and I had nowhere to go.  I felt then, like never before or since, that I have such a good, quiet, peaceful Fatherland, and how easy it is to lose all of this. 

A civil war is easy to start, but it’s almost impossible to stop.  For me, my country comes before anything else, and the last thing I want is for it to become a hot spot. 

So we must not unleash violence.  We must not start a war with the police.  The riot police and Berkut are not our enemies.  On the contrary, they are our weapon in the struggle with Yanukovych.  The secret of our victory lies with them. 

Because, why has this process become so drawn out by now?  Why has Yanukovych, despite all his desires to do so, not used force to end it?  Because he’s afraid.  He’s not afraid to harm others, he’s not afraid to shed blood, but he’s afraid that his orders will not be carried out.  And that would mean his end.  Because the country is changing in front of our eyes, and so have the moods of the police changed.  The country is even not what it was on November 30, when Berkut beat students on the Maidan…

There’s this trick when you go looking for mushrooms.  When you blink your eyes, they appear in all their majesty.  After two days in a row of storming the Maidan on December 10-11, for me, it was worth going to sleep.  The very same scene showed up in front of me:  Berkut soldiers’ eyes under shadows of helmets. 

This was no surprise, because over the preceding days, in fact, I only dealt with that.  I looked them in the eyes.  I tried to understand the consciences and feelings of police that surrounded our outposts, who waited for orders to storm them.  I mostly looked at the commanders’ eyes.  And I had this feeling that I could recognize some of them by their eyes. 

And besides this, I saw understanding in those eyes whenever I told them simple things.  I told them, “There are people standing here in front of you who are ready to die for their country, and you, too, gave an oath, so we’re together.  Don’t defend Yanukovych’s ‘dough.’  Understand the importance of the moment; everything depends on you.  You don’t even have to do anything, just don’t follow orders, don’t go against the people.” 

Police varied in their reactions to these words of mine.  Some turned away, some tried to distance themselves with a wall of irony, but for a moment, I felt that this wall would not withstand the pressure, that it was full of holes.  I saw understanding in the eyes of Berkut. 

But as for aggression and hatred, they popped up among them very rarely.  In the same way, their accusations were very few, remarks like “Bitch,” or “How much did they pay you?”  In turn, I asked them, “And how much would you agree to let your wife get paid to stay here in my place?”  And I saw how the zombified walls in the eyes of Berkut melted away, how human understanding broke through them. 

And again, during the storming of the Maidan by police, there was an order given not to use clubs, not to cripple people, and I saw that a majority of them zealously carried out this order.  They really did not want to harm the people who guarded the Maidan. 

I saw this firsthand.  On November 25, near the the SBU vehicle, I got it from the police.  They beat me rigorously, especially around my unprotected head.  But on December 10-11 (error in original: “November 10-11” – translator), when I got mixed up in the ranks of Berkut as much as I could, they just calmly shoved me away like a doll. 

Whenever storming takes place, I try in general to be in the first rows of the action.  I throw myself in front of policemen’s legs.  My idea is simple.  I am a psychological weapon.  The presence of women lowers the level of aggression.  Again, it’s important to show the police that they’re not fighting marginals and radicals, but women and mothers. 

Again, I try to cool down hot heads when guys use methods that could seriously injure police. 

Only once did I hit someone, and with a desire to do it, and I only felt really bad because at the time, I didn’t have some kind of heavy, blunt weapon in my little hand. 

This happened when, on Lutheran Street, a wave of Berkut soldiers pushed me to the side of the road, where a morally depraved monster, the mustachioed Kusiuk, Assistant Head of the Kyiv Berkut, stood, relaxed and pleased with himself.  Sources say he personally selected well-tested beasts from Berkut for breaking up the Maidan on November 30. 

With all my might, I went up to him and struck him in the guts.  True, I didn’t do much damage to him, he was in a flapjacket, but I was happy to have at least brought fear to his eyes.  He reacted like Yanukovych did to the egg thrown at him.  I imagine that several of his subordinates saw the shame it brought to their commander. 

It’s too bad that out of several hundred people who fought with simple Berkut soldiers, none of them got to him.  And it would have been worth it…

So police are not our enemies.  They are our chance at victory.  And in general, they are already there to stand with us.  The only problem is with their commanders, and the bandits from the Party of Regions who “supervise” them. 

I was a witness to how they operate.  December 10.  An outpost barricade on Lutheran Street.  We were surrounded by police who were just about ready to storm us.  And suddenly I saw a cavalcade of expensive cars drive up to the barricade.  Among them was a square Jeep with the number 6666, which had stood the whole evening in front of the Party of Regions office.  So they had come to control the clearing of the barricade on Lutheran Street. 

They purposely provoke us to scuffle with simple guys from the riot police under the watch of these vultures. 

By the way, it can’t be ruled out that the order to break up the Maidan brutally on November 30 was given to draw a line in the sand between Maidan protestors and the police.  It can’t be ruled out that in the same way, boys from the riot police stood in the front row under the Presidential Administration Building on December 1 (Original erroneously has “January 1” – translator). 

These were bloodlettings that the state committed in order to turn the “police” against the Maidan.  And it’s time to break the limits to the rules of the game the state has bound on us.  The police are not our enemy.  Rather, only through the support of the police do we have a chance to remove Yanukovych, the enemy, and his “overseers.”  Yes, our law enforcement structures are sickened with violence, betrayal, and corruption.  But they are sick because all of our society is sick.  Even if the worst people are concentrated there, they are the flesh of our flesh.  They are the fruits of a social environment for whom the words on the Maidan, “Glory to Ukraine!  Glory to the heroes!,” mean nothing.  But now, they do mean something.  We are changing in front of their eyes, and they are, too.  The whole country is changing. 


The process has already taken off, and I expect that no one can stop it. 

Ukraine under Yanukovych is turning itself into Ukraine without Yanukovych. 

His place in this country has already become reduced to a golden cage at Mizhhir’ia, which is defended by thousands of police whom Yanukovych already does not trust and whom he fears. 

For us, the people of the Maidan, those who are political and those who are not political, the main thing is that if we don’t fight each other, we will become an overwhelming force against the state.  And we will not fight each other only when the interests of the country, rather than personal or political ambitions, offenses or opportunities, become the greatest value for us. 

[photo of the author]


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