contributing to between 12 and 15 deaths and 700 injuries a year, which, he said, was considered “normal.”
Mr. Klebanov said that in 1968, after he became a shift foreman, he refused to require overtime of his men or to send them into the mine when safety equipment was missing or broken. He was charged with slandering the State and committed to a mental hospital.
Mr. Klebanov is the leader and principal organiser of the “worker-dissidents” and the documents he and others distributed at the meeting described industrial abuses that, in the West, would have been combated by a labour union.
These included the cases of Natalia Matyusheva, who worked as a hostess in a pension in Gorki and was sacked for “truancy” after protesting publicly about the death of a motorist which she said was the fault of the resort doctor, and Maria Melenteva, who lost her job for seeking a pension after 27 years of arduous labour.
Soviet unions exist on a per industry basis but they are run by the Communist Party which arranges the appointment or election of officials. These officials arrange special services such as paid holidays, but also aid management in meeting production quotas and maintaining discipline. The victims of industrial abuses appear to have no recourse.
Anatoli Poznyakov (39), worked as a locksmith for Roubles 75 (£58) a month. He told correspondents at the meeting that when he asked for a rise, he was insulted and after appealing to the local party organisation, told that his destiny in life was “to eat from a pig’s trough.” Further appeals led to his dismissal and he now lives on a semi-disability pension of Roubles 21 a month (he is an epileptic) and his mother’s pension of Roubles 45 a month.
Nedzhda Kurakin told correspondents she had worked for 25 years in a “closed restaurant in Volgograd.” She said restaurant managers were docking her pay and that of other waitresses for fictitious broken crockery and then ordering new crockery for themselves. In 1975, she made these charges at a party meeting and was fired for shirking. She said the Volgograd party leader she had known for 20 years refused to see her and she has been unable to find a job since.
Many of the industrial grievances described to correspondents or mentioned in the documents, like that of Mrs. Kurakin, concerned cases of organised corruption or theft, known to be serious and a growing problem for Soviet industry. Even in such cases, however, the response of Soviet institutions, including legal institutions, appeared to be instinctive support for existing authority.
Valentin Poplavsky (44), formerly head of the maintenance department for company housing at a factory in Klimovsk outside Moscow, said he was sacked after refusing to write a reprimand into the work record of a woman who protested about the use of company funds for drinking parties. To silence his vehement protests against the firing, he said the militia, acting on his ex-director’s instructions, entered his apartment and beat him in front of his wife, children, and 97-year-old father. When he tried to file a complaint at the prosecutor’s office, he was given a 15-day jail sentence and shortly afterward, his wife was fired from the job she held for 18 years.
The worker dissidents said in their open letter that they do not have philosophical objections to the Soviet system but simply wants its constitutional guarantees, such as the right to lodge complaints and the right to protection by the courts, to be honoured in practice.
ERZEUGT DURCH JUTOH - BITTE REGISTRIEREN SIE SICH, UM DIESE ZEILE ZU ENTFERNEN
Financial Times, Friday, May 19, 1978
Yuri Orlov’s Trial
The Price of Calling the Helsinki Bluff
The crowd outside the courtroom where Dr Yuri Orlov1 was being tried provided an uneasy audience for an animated debate between a dissident and a clean cut young man who was defending the Soviet system.
The argument ranged over the material situation of Soviet citizens and conflicting claims about freedom in the Soviet Union, and finally came down to the question of why close friends of Dr. Orlov were being barred from his trial.
“Who said that you are barred from the trial?” said the clean-cut young man. “I’ll go over there and get in now,” he added and began striding purposefully toward the iron barricades and crowd of militia men barring the entrance to the courtroom.
At the barricade, he was overheard by a Western correspondent to ask the police “what do I tell them? They want to know why they can’t get into the court.” One of the police, apparently taken aback by his co-worker’s stupidity, told him, “Tell them the hall is full.”
That was how it was during the four-day vigil on the sidewalk outside the “open” trial of Dr. Orlov. The testimony came from prosecution witnesses; the audience, with the exception of Dr. Orlov’s wife, Irina, came from the ranks of the country’s “enthusiasts”; and the honest workers who mingled menacingly with dissidents and journalists were provided by the police.
At the weary Press conference with Mrs. Orlova following the announcement of the sentence, Mr. Vladimir Slepak, a Helsinki group member who has been trying to emigrate to Israel for nine years, said: “All this was a play and all the sentence and everything was decided before the trial and what happened in the court had no influence on the sentence or the case.”
In retrospect, it now appears that not just the trial of Dr. Orlov but the Helsinki agreements themselves were a kind of play in which the Soviet authorities pretended that an ideological system imposed through force could honour solemn human rights commitments without undermining its own existence, and the Western signatories pretended to believe them.
At least 18 people connected with Helsinki agreement monitoring groups have now either been arrested or sentenced in various parts of the Soviet Union. Although attention has focused on Dr. Orlov, Alexander Ginzburg, and Anatoly Shcharansky, who were the founders and key members of the Moscow group, four members of an affiliated group in the Ukraine, including the Ukrainian poet Mikola Rudenko, have already been convicted of anti-Soviet agitation and received maximum sentences.
Dr. Orlov was in many respects well qualified to organise a dissident committee which sought to exert pressure on the authorities to translate public Soviet international commitments into genuine rights for Soviet citizens. A member of the Communist Party until his expulsion in 1956 for going too far at a party meeting in criticising the practices of the Stalin era, he moved to Armenia where he was able to find work as a physicist and in time became a corresponding member of the Armenian Academy of Sciences.
A specialist in high energy particle accelerators, Dr. Orlov returned to Moscow in 1972 and began work at the Institute of Terrestrial Magnetism and Propagation of Radio Waves but was fired after sending a letter in 1973 to Mr. Leonid Brezhnev, the Soviet President, in which he called for democratic reforms and connected the question with the campaign against Academician Andreo Sakharov.
Dr. Orlov became a member of the Soviet chapter of Amnesty International and in May 1976 founded the Helsinki monitoring group which for the first time drew together all the strands of Soviet dissent—the democratic movement, the Jewish emigration movement, and the religious rights movement—into a single organisation based on explicit Soviet acceptance of an international agreement.
In a country without a free Press, the Helsinki group quickly established itself as the best—and in many instances, the only—means of verifying whether Soviet pledges to honour freedom of religion and the right to emigrate, and to allow reunification of families, were being honoured in practice. The group demonstrated
