Academician of sugars under the heel of Elena Bonner. Elena Bonner and cabbage pie for Andrei Sakharov Why was Dmitry Sakharov ashamed of his father

"implantation of the Jewish will as an intellectual conscience"

«… in the beginning, despite the fact that I was a nurse and mobilized as a nurse, I was put in a completely different position. There was such a position, it was liquidated very quickly - assistant political instructor…»

E. Bonner " Fought not for the Motherland …»

« August 1968 was coming to an end, the Prague events. I was visiting my mother's sister in France. I didn't need anything - Paris, boulevards, museums. Even Nike of Samothrace. I literally died from pain, shame and guilt. I thought that just like me, my country is suffering and I need to be at home. And I have a return ticket for September 15th. And every day you have to get acquainted with a new portion of relatives. The wife of a second cousin came with a ten-year-old son. Entering, he silently stood against the wall. He was asked: "Why don't you say hello to your cousin?" And he, looking into my eyes, said: "I do not shake hands with a Russian officer"»

From the memoirs of E. Bonner who traveled the world back in the 60s ...

« Elena Bonner left the CPSU in the 70s, in my opinion in the 72nd, 20 years before the mass exodus from the Communist Party began. Well, the rest is known to all. Elena Bonner is one of the founders of the human rights movement in the USSR, the wife, friend and closest associate of Academician Andrei Dmitrievich Sakharov, the keeper of his legacy. And Elena Bonner did not hold official positions anywhere and never»

svoboda.org

Sakharov with his own children E. Bonner with his children Sakharov with Bonner

Academician Sakharov had three native children - Luba, Tanya and Dmitry. At Bonner Sakharov adopted her two children - Tatyana and Alexey "Semenov". And his daughter-in-law Lisa. In the official historiography, it is they who pass as " children of Academician Sakharov", still receiving grants ...

Says Sakharov's own son

Dmitry: " When my mother died, we continued to live together for some time - dad, me and sisters. But after marrying Bonner, my father left us, settling in his stepmother's apartment. Tanya was married by that time, I was barely 15 years old, and 23-year-old Lyuba replaced my parents. Together with her, we hosted. In his memoirs, my father writes that my older daughters turned me against him. It is not true. It's just that no one ever invited me to the house where dad lived with Bonner. I rarely came there, completely missing my father. And Elena Georgievna never left us alone for a minute. Under the stern gaze of my stepmother, I dared not speak of my boyish problems. There was something like a protocol: a joint lunch, on-duty questions and the same answers».

«… Father never gave money to me or my sister. We received postal orders. Most likely, Bonner advised him to send money by mail. It seems that she provided this form of help in case I suddenly began to say that my father was not helping me. But he stopped sending these alimony as soon as I turned 18.».

... In those days, I came to Gorky, hoping to convince my father to stop senseless self-torture. By the way, I found Liza at dinner! As I remember now, she ate pancakes with black caviar. Imagine how sorry I felt for my father, it was insulting for him and even uncomfortable. He, an academician, a world-famous scientist, arranges a noisy action, risks his health - and for what? It is clear that if he thus sought to stop nuclear weapons testing or would demand democratic reforms ... But he just wanted Lisa to be allowed into America to Alexei Semenov ».

Portrait

« During Gorky's exile in 1982, the then young artist came to visit Andrei Sakharov Sergey Bocharov. He dreamed of painting a portrait of a disgraced scientist and human rights activist. Worked for four hours. We talked to pass the time. Elena Georgievna also supported the conversation. Of course, there was some discussion weaknesses Soviet reality.

Sakharov did not see everything in black colors, Bocharov admitted in an interview with Express Gazeta. - Andrei Dmitrievich sometimes even praised the government of the USSR for some successes. Now I don't remember why. But for each such remark, he immediately received a slap in the face on his bald head from his wife. While I was writing the sketch, Sakharov got at least seven times. At the same time, the world luminary meekly endured cracks, and it was clear that he was used to them.

Then it dawned on the artist: it was necessary to write not Sakharov, but Bonner, because it was she who controlled the scientist. Bocharov began to paint her portrait with black paint right on top of the image of the academician. Bonner was curious about how the artist was doing and glanced at the canvas. And when she saw herself, she became furious and rushed to smear oil paints with her hand.

I told Bonner that I don’t want to draw a “stump”, which repeats the thoughts of an evil wife, and even suffers beatings from her, ”recalls Sergey Bocharov. “And Bonner kicked me out on the street right away.”

Elena Georgievna has a grandson Matvey. This is her son eldest daughter. A loving grandmother shocked the whole family when she gave Mota a tea set for her wedding. The day before, she found him in one of the Boston dumps. Cups and saucers, however, were not scratched, because strange Americans sometimes throw away not only old things, but also those that they simply did not like.

From the book of S.P. Kapitsa " My memories »

« Elena Bonner asked her father to sign a letter in defense of a dissident. The father refused, saying that he never signs collective letters, and if necessary, he writes to whomever needs it. But in order to somehow soften this matter, he invited the Sakharovs to dine. When dinner was over, the father, as usual, called Andrei Dmitrievich to his office to talk. Elena Bonner immediately reacted: "Andrei Dmitrievich will speak only in my presence." The action was like in the theater: a long pause, everyone was silent. Finally, the father said dryly: "Sergey, please see the guests." The guests got up and said goodbye, my father did not go out with them into the hall, where they got dressed, and I walked them to the car.».

From the memoirs of Alexandrov The most human person

The first negative attitude towards Sakharov's ideas was Alexandrova arose when he was appointed scientific director of the nuclear submarine program. In his memoirs, Alexandrov talks about how he was amazed by Sakharov's idea to equip submarines with weapons of absolutely extraordinary nuclear power for the most "effective" use of it against America. The project consisted of initiating a giant tidal wave with synchronized underwater explosions, which was supposed to sweep across the entire North American continent, washing away all life.

“That is, - says the AP, - it was not about a war against the army, navy or some military facilities, but about the total destruction of people” ...

“Very sharply,” says Pyotr Aleksandrov, “the AP spoke out against Sakharov when he found a moral justification for the hijackers after the murder of a flight attendant Hope Kurchenko. Sakharov believed that the fight against the ban on free exit from the USSR justifies the hijacking of the plane and the murder, while, according to the AP, no political dogma can justify the killing of people not involved in this struggle. He also did not accept Sakharov’s motives for the hunger strike: “I don’t believe a man,” he said, “who abandoned his children from his first wife and is starving because the bride of his new wife’s son is not allowed to go abroad.” But it was he who went to Brezhnev and convinced the latter to accept the right decision, after which Sakharov ended his hunger strike.

From the memoirs of A.D. Sakharov

"In places of military glory":

“.... At a formal dinner, I sat next to Madame Mitterrand... Lucy [Bonner] between President Mitterrand and the UN Secretary General Perez de Cuellar... The interpreter was with me, and after an hour and a half of conversation in English, Lucy was very tired ... On December 11, we went for a walk around Paris. In 1968, Lucy spent a whole month here, going wherever she wanted. This time we were heavily restricted by the security service... We wanted to go to Place Pigalle and buy tights with lurex, but the security did not allow it, because of the fear of the crowd and criminals... We had to buy tights in a wildly expensive store, not quite the ones what we wanted .. When we drove through the area of ​​\u200b\u200bsex shops and porn cinemas, we met a familiar couple walking peacefully there. It was a talented bard Bulat Okudzhava, an old friend Lucine, and his wife ...»*

*page 75, "Moscow and Beyond" 1986 to 1989, Andrei Sakharov, translated by Antonina Bouis, published in the United States by Alfred A. Knopf, Inc., 1990, ISBN 0-394-58797-9. Originally published in English as « Bitter, Moscow, Further everywhere", 1990

« A few words about how I feel about the Palestinian problem in general. Undoubtedly, every nation has the right to its own territory - this applies to the Palestinians, and to the Israelis, and, say, to the people Crimean Tatars. After the tragedy that broke out in the 40s, the Palestinians became the object of manipulation, political game and speculation ... It would have long been possible to settle refugees in the richest Arab countries...» (p. 529)**.

**after reading speeches Bonner in Norway at the congress of the Freedom Forum in Oslo, it becomes quite clear that the quotes from Sakharov on Israel belong to Bonner herself, “acting Sakharova”, behind whom all this nonsense was repeated by a rag and henpecked ...

Conversation between Sakharov and Bonner with Solzhenitsyn's wife.

The spirit of Slavophilism throughout the centuries

represented a terrible evil "

A. Sakharov

« [She] said: how can I... give great importance the problem of emigration, when ... there are so many much more important, much more massive problems in the country? She spoke, in particular, about the fact that millions of collective farmers are essentially serfs, deprived of the right to leave the collective farm and leave to live and work elsewhere. Regarding our concern [to give children an education abroad], Alya said that millions of parents in the Russian people are deprived of the opportunity to give their children any education at all. Outraged by the didactic tone of the “notation” addressed to me Natalia Svetlova Lucy exclaimed:

Fuck me on the Russian people! You, too, cook semolina porridge for your children, and not for the entire Russian people.

Lucy's words about the Russian people in this house, perhaps, sounded “blasphemous” [for some reason, the academician himself put the word “blasphemous” in quotation marks]. But essentially and emotionally she had a right to them” (p. 577).

« The reason for the deportation was the cooperation of the Crimean Tatar people with the Germans during the occupation of Crimea. ... Undoubtedly, however, what to make responsible for individual crimes - if they took place - the whole people is unacceptable either during the war, or after almost forty years!"(p. 463). " During the day I rode a trolleybus and could see how Lithuanians treat Russians... As soon as I sat down on a seat next to a Lithuanian or a Lithuanian, they defiantly turned away or moved to another seat. Surely they have the right to o” (p. 631).

Andrey Dmitrievich Sakharov describes with admiration the behavior Sergei Adamovich Kovalev at the court. When the audience in the hall reacted without sympathy, with laughter, he shouted: "I will not speak in front of a herd of pigs!" (p. 633)***.

***BUT. Sakharov, "Memoirs" in two volumes, publishing house "Human Rights", Moscow, 1996

Bonus / Additional Materials

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Elena Bonner and Andrey Sakharov

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Elena Bonner and Andrey Sakharov

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In Boston, on June 18, 2011, a human rights activist, the widow of Academician Andrei Sakharov, Elena Bonner, died. She gave this interview to the Snob project in March 2010.

The widow of academician Sakharov, a dissident, a human rights activist, a tribune - the chain of definitions that come to mind when the name of Elena Bonner is mentioned can be continued for a long time, but not everyone knows that she went to the front as a girl, lost her loved ones in the war. In an interview with Snob magazine, she emphasizes that she speaks precisely as a veteran and disabled person who has retained a personal memory of the war.

Let's start at the beginning of the war. You were eighteen years old, and you were a student of philology, that is, a representative of the most romanticized stratum Soviet society. Those who “gave away white dresses to their sisters” and went to the front.

Yes, I was a student of the evening department of the Herzen Institute in Leningrad. Why the evening department? Because my grandmother had three “orphans of the 37th year” in her arms, and she had to work. It was assumed that studies somehow came into contact with educational, school and other work. And the district committee of the Komsomol sent me to work in the 69th school. It was located on the street, which was then called Krasnaya, before the revolution it was called Galernaya, now again Galernaya. She is mentioned in Akhmatova's poems: "And under the arch on Galernaya / Our shadows are forever." This arch at the beginning of the street - between the Senate and the Synod - goes straight to the monument to Peter. This was my second job site. The first job site was in our house management, I worked part-time as a cleaning lady. It was a house with a corridor system, and I had a corridor on the third floor and a main staircase with two large Venetian windows. I really loved washing these windows in the spring, there was a feeling of joy. A maple tree grew in the yard, there was a makeshift volleyball court where all of us, yard children, had fun. And I washed the windows.

And the fact that you were the child of enemies of the people did not prevent you from working on the staff of the district committee of the Komsomol? Did you see this as a contradiction?

This did not stop me from being an active member of the Komsomol and working as a senior pioneer leader on the staff of the district committee of the Komsomol. I was expelled from the Komsomol in the eighth grade because I refused to condemn my parents at a meeting. And I, when I went to Moscow to take packages to them (they received fifty rubles once a month, and that’s all), I went to the Central Committee of the Komsomol. Some girl talked to me there (probably it was already after Stalin said that children are not responsible for their fathers, and maybe even earlier - I don’t remember). And when I returned to Leningrad, I was again summoned to the district committee and my old Komsomol ticket was returned - they were restored. Along with the other guys. About the work in the house management, too, it must be said. The house had a council of tenants, some kind of public self-government. Vera Maksimova, the wife of a naval officer, was its chairman. She treated me very well, and my younger brother, and my younger sister, precisely because we were the children of "enemies of the people." When my grandmother died in the blockade - before that my grandmother sent Igor to the boarding school for evacuation, and little Natasha was taken by her grandmother's sister - an empty room remained. And this same Vera Maksimova, even before I sent some documents stating that I was in the army and it was impossible, therefore, to occupy living space, wrote a statement that I was in the army and therefore the living space was reserved for me.

Great rarity.

Yes, yes, a rare family.

And so the war begins. Now it seems to most that immediately hundreds of thousands of people began to sign up as volunteers. Do you remember it?

This is a big lie - about millions of volunteers. The percentage of volunteers was negligible. There was a tough mobilization. All of Russia was cleared of peasants. Collective farmer or factory hard worker - those millions who perished "in the vastness of the motherland" were mobilized. Only a few - intelligent fools - went voluntarily.

I was mobilized like thousands of other girls. I studied at the Herzen Institute, and some lectures, "in-line", were held in the assembly hall. And over the stage of the assembly hall all the time that I studied there, a poster hung: “Girls of our country, master a second, defense profession.” The mastery of the second, defense profession was expressed in the fact that the subject was “military affairs”. There were three specialties for girls: a nurse, a signalman and a sniper. I chose nursing. And I must say that military affairs in terms of attendance and real study was one of the most serious subjects. If you skip Old Church Slavonic, nothing will happen to you, but if you skip military affairs, you will be in big trouble. I just finished this course by the beginning of the war, and I was registered with the military.

Around the end of May, I passed my exams. I must say that I lost this diploma. When I was already the head nurse on the medical train and our train was passing overhaul in Irkutsk, my boss said: “You don’t have a diploma, despite the fact that you already have a title. Go to the local courses and take the exam right away, right away. He himself agreed, and I passed the exams much better than at the institute; In my opinion, there are only "fives" with me. It so happened that I have an Irkutsk diploma.

What year is this?

This is the winter of 1942-1943. I remember one detail from it. The train was being repaired at the Irkutsk-2 depot. Exams were taken in the city, in the premises of the Irkutsk Pedagogical Institute, where the hospital was located. We worked in this hospital, where I took my exams. One evening I was walking to the station along a small street, there are such houses, such as suburban, rural, with fences. And a shop. And on the bench sat a girl of about nine, wrapped in a fur coat. Next to her is a little boy. And she sang the song: "And the enemy will never achieve, / So that your head bows, / My dear capital, / My golden Moscow."

I stopped and began to ask where this song came from. I had never heard her before. She said: “And they always sing it on the radio. And I love her very much, because we are evacuees from Moscow.” And now I still remember this song with her voice. Evening snow-covered city, a little girl, and such a clean, thin voice ...

And back to the beginning. On June 22, you hear that the war has begun, you are registered with the military. Did you immediately realize that you would be in the army? After all, we imagine this: a cloudless sky over the whole country, and suddenly - a catastrophe, life changes overnight. Did you feel like there was a sudden change?

Masha, this is a very strange feeling. Now, when I am eighty-seven years old, I try to think over and do not understand why my whole generation lived in anticipation of war. And not only Leningraders, who have already experienced a real Finnish war - with a blackout, without bread. In the tenth grade, we sat at our desks in felt boots, in winter coats and wrote - our hands were in mittens.

I became a Leningrader when my father was arrested, and my mother, fearing in advance the fate of the orphanage for us, sent us to our grandmother in Leningrad. It was August 1937 - my eighth grade. Almost in the very first days, I saw on St. Isaac's Square - and my grandmother lived on Gogol Street, a stone's throw from St. Isaac's Square - a sign on the wall of the house: "Institute of Art History, House of Literary Education of Schoolchildren." And sank into it. And she ended up in the Marshakov group (founded by Samuil Marshak. - M.G.). And I must say: the fact that I was the daughter of "enemies of the people" did not play a negative role in my fate. Moreover, I have a feeling that this rather snobbish childish literary circle received me very well for that very reason. In this circle was Natasha Mandelstam, Mandelstam's niece, there was Lyova Druskin (Lev Savelyevich Druskin (1921-1990), a poet expelled from the Writers' Union in 1980 for a diary found during a search; emigrated to Germany. - M.G. ), a disabled person who suffered paralysis in childhood. Our boys carried him in their arms to all meetings, to theaters. Yura Kapralov (Georgy Alexandrovich Kapralov (b. 1921), Soviet film critic and screenwriter - M.G.), famous at the time, also came out of the same cohort. Many died. The one who was the first love of Natasha Mandelstam (I forgot his name) died, Alyosha Butenko died.

All the boys wrote poetry, the girls mostly prose. I didn't write anything, but it didn't matter. In general, everything was very serious, twice a week - a lecture and classes. In addition, we gathered, like any teenage gang, on our own. They mostly gathered at Natasha Mandelstam's, because she had a separate room. A very small one, narrow, like a pencil case, a bed, a table, but they stuffed it as best they could. And what were they doing? They read poetry.

You describe people who are sensitive to what is happening around them and are used to putting into words what they feel. What was the expectation of war for you?

Masha, the funny thing is, it seems to me that since 1937, and maybe even earlier, I knew what I was going to big war. So I'll tell you, our boys wrote, I'll quote you a few poems. Poems, let's say, in 1938: “Here comes the big war, / We will climb into the basement. / Interfering with the silence with the soul, / Let's lie on the floor on the spot, ”writes one of our boys.

It seems to be a different circle, but in general the same people, a little older. We are schoolchildren, they are students (of the Institute of Philosophy, Literature and History (IFLI), the legendary Moscow educational institution disbanded during the war. - M.G.).

Kulchitsky writes: "And communism is again so close, / As in the nineteenth year."

And Kogan (Pavel Kogan, poet, student of IFLI, who died at the front. - M.G.) generally writes terrible: “But we will still reach the Ganges, / But we will still die in battles, / So that from Japan to England / The Motherland shone my".

That is, it is not only in Leningrad, but also in Moscow. This is an intelligent environment. I do not know the mood of the village, and Russia was 90% rural. But here we all had this feeling, a deep feeling that we were going to have this.

And when the war starts, you become a nurse - another romantic image. What did it really look like?

It is interesting that in the beginning, despite the fact that I was a nurse and mobilized as a nurse, I was put in a completely different position. There was such a position, it was liquidated very quickly - an assistant to the political instructor. I don’t even know what it consisted of, but, probably, it was about the same as the Komsomol organizers who were later elected in each unit. And my military position at first was called "sanitary instructor".

I ended up on the Volkhov Front (a front created in 1941 during the defense of the cities of Volkhov and Tikhvin Leningrad region. - M.G.). And somehow just outside the blockade ring. I don't even remember how we ended up outside. And I worked on a sanitary "fly".

This is such a small train of goods or suburban wagons, whose task was to quickly evacuate the wounded soldiers and the civilian population, who ended up on this side of the ring after Ladoga, and take them to Vologda. We didn’t know what they were doing next: they were transported somewhere, settled somewhere ... Many of them were besieged goners, they were simply immediately hospitalized. In this area we were bombed very often, one might say, constantly. And the path was cut, and bombed-out wagons, and a bunch of wounded and killed ...

And at some point you were hurt ...

It was near the station, which bore the girl's name - Valya. And I ended up in Vologda, in the distribution evacuation center at the station. It was October 26, 1941. There was such a mixture of winter with a terrible autumn: sleet, wind, terribly cold. And I, like many others, was lying on a stretcher, in a sleeping bag. We had very good, rough, hard, thick sleeping bags. The Germans did not have such. Our bags were heavy, but warm. It seems to me that this was the only thing that we had better than the Germans. And the document for the wounded, if he was conscious, was filled in by the person who first provided assistance. This document - they didn’t look for a soldier’s book in their pockets at all - was filled out from the words, it was called “Card of the advanced area”. Such a cardboard. With a safety pin, this card was fastened to the belly: last name, first name, part - and the sleeping bag was tightened. And if you provided some help, did something - a serum there, a bandage, morphine or something else - a note was made about this. And now, in the evacuation center, stretchers stand in rows on the floor, and for the first time a doctor appears before my eyes, accompanied by nurses or paramedics - I don’t know who. And then I - I was so lucky several times - the first time was wonderfully lucky. The doctor comes to me and so with his hand, without unfastening it, raises the card and reads the surname. And suddenly he says: “Bonner Elena Georgievna ... And Raisa Lazarevna, who are you related to?” And this is my aunt, a radiologist, who at that time was also in the army, but no one knows where. I say: "Aunt". And he says to the attendants: "Come to my office."

Only in war can a person say that he was wonderfully lucky, because he suddenly turned out to be not a bag with a card, but a man.

Then I found out: his last name is Kinovich. I don't know a name, I don't know anything. Doctor Kinovich. He commanded this evacuation center and decided who should be processed first, who should be sent further without treatment, and who - to the Vologda hospital. It turned out that he served in the Finnish war under my aunt. He looked pretty young. All people over thirty then seemed old to me. And I was sent to a hospital in Vologda. The hospital was in the Pedagogical Institute. What is around and so on - I do not know, I did not see anything. And at first she spoke very badly. I had a severe contusion, a fracture of the collarbone, a severe wound to the left forearm and a hemorrhage in the fundus of the eye. I was lying behind the "women's" curtain - there were no women's wards there, I was lying - how long, I don't know - in a hospital in Vologda. And I understood that, at the suggestion of Kinovich, they treated me very well. Clearly, so to speak, they are patronized by pull. And pretty soon I was sent from Vologda by medical train to a hospital in Sverdlovsk. There was already a real treatment: they sewed my nerve, my left forearm and so on - and before that my arm was dangling.

And you're miraculously lucky again?

Yes. The train was running for a long time. I think two or three days. On the first night we were bombed on the outskirts of Vologda, somewhere between Vologda and Galich. I remember that night very well, it was very scary, worse than the first time I was wounded. I was in the hospital in Sverdlovsk until the end of December. So, in general, I stayed in the hospital from October 26 to about December 30. And on December 30, I was discharged to the distribution evacuation center, or whatever it was called, Sverdlovsk. I came, handed over my documents and sat in the corridor, waiting. And then a very old man in military uniform came up to me and asked me what I was doing here. I say: I'm waiting to be told. He said to me: "Ex Nostris?" (Ex nostris (lat.) - “From ours.” - M.G.). I said, "What?" He said: "Ours?" I said, "From what?" Then he said: "Are you Jewish?" I say yes". This is the only thing I understood. Then he took out a notebook and said: "Come on, tell me your last name." I said. Then he asked me: “Where are you from anyway?” I say: "From Leningrad." He told me: "And I have a daughter and a son in Leningrad." Who and what he is, did not say anything. "Where are your parents?" I say: “I don’t know about dad. And my mother is in Algeria.

He said, "Which Algeria?" I say: "Akmola camp of wives of traitors to the motherland." I remember very well how I looked at him, very intently, but I myself think that he will tell me now. Maybe he'll shoot me now, maybe not. And so I told him: “Akmolinsky. Camp, - such a reporting voice. - Female. Traitors. Motherland". He said, "Yeah," and left. Then he came back, almost immediately, and said: "Sit here and don't go anywhere." He came back, probably half an hour later, and said: "Let's go." I say: "Where?" And he says: “And now you are my subordinate, a nurse of the military hospital train 122. I am your boss Dorfman Vladimir Efremovich. You will address me as “comrade chief”, but occasionally you can call me Vladimir Efremovich. All".

And yet, how does an eighteen-year-old student of philology become a military nurse?

We went with him, rode the tram for quite a long time, and then walked, because the medical train, which he commanded, stood somewhere far away, on some long-distance tracks. On the way, he asked: “Are you a real nurse or Rocky?”. I said: "Rokkovskaya." And he said: "Bad." ROCK - Russian society Red Cross. They taught in their courses much worse than in a normal military paramedic school (this is for guys) or a medical college. That is, those were taught for real, and we - "girls of our country, master a second, defense profession." All clear? He said that it was very bad and that I had to learn how to prescribe medicines in Latin in two weeks - the head of the pharmacy would teach me how to do intravenous, which I had never done, and everything else. “In two weeks” is about as long as the ambulance train goes to the front for loading. With the wounded, they let through faster, and the empty was often dragged along like a freight train. But not always. And when they drove fast, it means that big fights were being prepared somewhere. By the speed of movement, we knew in advance about Stalingrad, and about the Dnieper, and about Kursk.

Learned. Then she became the elder sister of this very medical train. That's how lucky I am. I was lucky with the House of Literary Education of Schoolchildren. And in the war, I was lucky with Dr. Kinovich. And the third time I was lucky with Vladimir Efremovich Dorfman. Because it is clear: I would not be sent to the medical train, but to the front line. Everyone was sent there. They just sent people to cover up the holes. This is the beginning of 1942 - the time when no one returned from there.



And you didn’t travel on this train, as they say, but traveled the entire war, until 1945?

Yes, even from Germany managed to take out the wounded. I met Victory Day near Innsbruck. Our last flight from Germany was in the middle of May to Leningrad. There the train was disbanded, and I was appointed deputy head of the medical service of a separate engineer battalion in the Karelian-Finnish direction: Rug-Ozersky district, Kochkoma station. This sapper battalion was engaged in the clearance of huge minefields that were located between us and Finland. The war has already ended, and in general there is great joy, and every day we have both the wounded and the dead. Because there were no maps of minefields, and our sappers remained alive more thanks to intuition than to mine detectors. And I was demobilized - in my opinion, it was the third stage of demobilization - at the end of August 1945.

You went through the whole war both chronologically and geographically. Have you met people who understood that there is no difference between warring regimes? How did they do it? What was there to do?

There were such people, but they said about it only now, when Europe equated communism and fascism. Well, a little earlier they wrote - different philosophers spoke, but who, how many people read them? And this is after the war. And Hannah Arendt, and Ann Appelbaum. And then ... Someone became a defector, someone in every possible way, by hook or by crook, aspired to the Urals or beyond the Urals. Not Jews at all - Jews were just eager to fight, because, unlike me, then a fool, they understood what “ex nostris” meant. Read about the evacuation of the creative intelligentsia and their families to Tashkent and Ashgabat, and you will see that there are negligible Jews there. And the saying "Jews fought in Tashkent" is one of the big lies about the war.

For example, your fiancé, the poet Vsevolod Bagritsky. Can I ask about him?

Can. I always have something to tell, and I'm always pleased. You know, this is how a girl falls in love, and at least remember somewhere once again the name of that person. This is very funny. I'm generally in the category happy women, I had three loves in my life, and they all remained with me: I love Sevka, I love Ivan (Ivan Vasilievich Semenov, Elena Bonner's first husband, broke up in 1965, officially divorced in 1971 - M.G.) and I love Andrei (Andrey Dmitrievich Sakharov, whom Elena Bonner was married from January 1972 until his death in 1989 - M.G.). Well, Seva ... There was a boy, he was left without a dad, dad died in 1934. Left without a mother, mother was arrested on August 4, 1937. I ended up with them during the search, and the search went on almost the whole night (Elena Bonner was fourteen years old, but, once in the apartment where the search took place, she could not leave until it was over. - M.G.).

I came home in the morning, and my mother insulted me for life, forcing me to show my panties. Well, the panties had nothing to do with it. After she checked, I told her: “Lida was arrested.” My dad has already been arrested. And this Seva remained. Seva was a very smart boy, smarter than all of us and a lot of adults. If someone were reading his book now, they would certainly be amazed at what he wrote in his poems. This is probably the year 1938, the beginning. May I read?

Yes, you certainly may.

Young man,

Let's talk.

With the phrase simple

And in a simple word

Come to me

To the sixth floor.

I will meet you

Behind the table square.

We'll put the kettle on.

Warm. Cosiness.

You say:

- The room is small. -

And ask:

- Girls won't come?

Today we will

Alone with you.

Sit down, comrade

Let's talk.

What time!

What days!

We are being smashed!

Or we thunder! -

I will ask you.

And you will answer:

- We win

We are right.

But wherever you look

Enemies, enemies...

Wherever you go -

Enemies.

I say to myself:

- Run!

Rather run

Run faster...

Tell me am I right?

And you will answer:

- Comrade, you are wrong.

Then we'll talk

About poetry

(They're always on the way)

Then you will say:

- Nonsense.

Farewell.

I have to go.

I'm alone again

And again the world

Enters my room.

I touch it with my fingers

I sing a song about him.

I do a little brushstroke

Then I run back...

And I see - the world closed its eyes,

Then he opened his eyes.

Then I'll hug him

I will press.

It's round, big

Steep...

And the departed guest

my

We wave together

hand.

But then no one knew these s-tihs. You collected and published his collection after more than twenty years.

Read aloud and not printed by anyone then, and only memorized. "Enemies..." That was the boy. The flight from Moscow began (in October 1941, when German troops came close to Moscow. - M.G.). Everyone succumbed to this run. Seva ended up in Chistopol.

In Chistopol, apparently, Seva was absolutely unbearable. And this disability, and not a patriotic upsurge, I am sure of this, it was this disability that forced him to apply to join the army. Like Tsvetaev - in the loop. Here he wrote in Chistopol:



I live intrusively, stubbornly,

I want to outlive my peers.

I just want to meet again

with mom,

Talk about your fate.

Everything here is familiar and unfamiliar.

Like a loved one's corpse.

Sleigh, red straw chill,

Horses, women and smoke from chimneys.

You often visit the market here

And very pleased, killing time.

Walk slowly and forget

About bombs, hate and love.

I became calmer and wiser

There was less sadness.

Still, my ancestors, Jews,

There were smart old people.

In the evening you will wander to a neighbor,

The trees in the fog and the stars are countless...

It is unlikely that at the front they are waiting for victory,

With such lust as here.

No response to telegrams

I got lost in foreign lands.

Where are you, mother, quiet mother,

My good mother?

It's December 6th. On the same day, a statement was written to the political administration of the Red Army (Workers 'and Peasants' Red Army. - M.G.), Comrade Baev from Bagritsky Vsevolod Eduardovich, Chistopol, Volodarsky Street, house 32: “I ask the political administration of the Red Army to send me to work in the front press . I was born in 1922. On August 29, 1940, he was removed from the military register due to illness - high myopia. I am a poet. In addition, before the closure of Literaturnaya Gazeta, he was a full-time employee of it, and also collaborated in a number of other Moscow newspapers and magazines. December 6, 1941. Bagritsky.

And more verses from that day:

I hate to live without undressing,

Sleep on rotten straw

And, giving to the frozen beggars,

To forget the tired hunger.

Chilling, hiding from the wind,

Remember the names of the dead

From home do not receive an answer,

Change junk for black bread.

deceased

Confuse plans, numbers and paths,

Rejoice that he lived less in the world

Twenty.

This is one day, December 6th. Before the new year, he was summoned to Moscow, sent to plug another hole, and in February that was all, he died.

It is unbelievable that a nineteen-year-old boy is writing this. And the fact that such a boy was there, in Chistopol, all alone. Mom is in prison, you are in a hospital in Sverdlovsk.

Yes, but my mother is no longer in prison - in a camp, in Karlag ... It is written in his diary: "Sima and Olya (these are aunts), it seems, are in Ashgabat." That is, he did not receive a single letter from them, he did not receive from me, from his mother either. In general, in the first months, war and mail were incompatible.

But he wrote everything down in a notebook, which was with him until the end. I still have her. It was pierced by a fragment, an uneven piece was torn out, the edge was diamond-shaped, three by four centimeters. The fragment pierced the field bag, this thick common notebook and Sevin's spine. Death appears to have been instantaneous. This notebook was kept by the editorial staff. When Seva was called to the army, he came to Moscow and stayed there for several days before being sent to the newspaper. He brought his papers. After Seva's death, when I first... Oh, it's always hard for me to say this, but never mind. When I first came there, to the passage of the Art Theater, Masha lived there, the nanny with whom he stayed and lived before the war, and Masha told me everything ... And she said: “Well, take the papers, everything that is here there is".

It turns out the plot of the film about the war: you are a nurse, your fiance, a poet, is at war. But in reality, you didn’t even know that he was at the front?

Didn't know anything. Only at the end of March I received a letter from our mutual friend, such an actor was Mark Obukhovsky, he lived in the same house as Seva - in the writer's house. A letter informing that Seva was dead. I did not believe it, I wrote to Courage, to the newspaper. The newspaper had not yet been destroyed by that time. Musa Jalil was sent to Sevino, and almost all of them were surrounded on the Volkhov front, some died, and some were captured - in German camps. Musa Jalil died in the camp. Only a few people left the encirclement. And one woman, from the technical staff of the editorial office, I don’t remember her last name, answered that Seva died - that’s for sure, he died in February, she didn’t remember the date, and they buried him in the forest near the village of Myasnoy Bor. There, later, on my tip, youth search teams searched for Seva's grave many times. But they never found it. And when Lida, Seva's mother, after some time returned from the camp, on Novodevichy, where Eduard Bagritsky was buried, they simply laid a stone and wrote - I was against such an inscription - Lida wrote: "Poet-Komsomol member." (Cries.) She really wanted to write the word "Komsomol member." We had a bit of a fight about this.

Lida from the very beginning, from the first day I appeared in the Bagritsky house - and I appeared with a big bow, which Bagritsky scoffed at, at the age of eight - always treated me very well. When she left, arrested, in front of me, she said: “What a pity that you are not adults yet. Get married already." And she was very fond of Tanya and Alyosha (the children of Bonner and Semenov. - M.G.), especially Tanya. And the funny thing is that Tanya and Alyosha considered her their grandmother. That's not all. Once Tanya and I were sitting in the Central House of Writers, drinking coffee, Zyama Paperny, on the contrary, sat down at our table, also with coffee, we sit and talk. And then he says: "Listen, how does your Tanka look like Sevka." I say: "She can not be like, she was born eight years after his death." But it's still similar. So I told everything about Sevka.

After all, he studied at the Literary Institute, but was friends with IFL poets. I remember that in the early nineties, someone published a collection of memoirs of former IFLIs, and I was struck by such a through note in them - as if the beginning of the war for these young people brought some kind of moral relief, a long-awaited opportunity to take up arms against an understandable, real enemy.

Yes, this is the same expectation of war and subsequent cleansing, which Stalin removed with one phrase: we were all “cogs”.

And felt like cogs?

You asked me in a letter if I remember the slogan “For Stalin! For the Motherland! From the beginning to the end of the war, and then a little more after it, until about the end of August 1945, I was in the army. Not at the headquarters, but among these very wounded soldiers and my ordinary orderly soldiers. And I have never heard “To fight for the Motherland! Fight for Stalin! Never! I can swear on my children, grandchildren and great grandchildren. I heard it as half-joking, half-mockery after the war, when benefits began to be withdrawn from us. Some money was paid for each order, for each medal - I forgot how much - five, ten or fifteen rubles. But at least it was something. Everyone was given free rail travel once a year - it was something. Some other perks. And from 1947 they began to be removed. We sent decree after decree: this benefit is canceled from such and such a date. A couple of months later, another one - from such and such a date. And every time in the newspapers there is a big lie: "At the request of veterans" or "At the request of war invalids." And then a playful slogan appeared: “To fight for the Motherland! Fight for Stalin! But our money was crying, they are not given now! (Apparently, it was a parody of the song by Lev Oshanin, written back in 1939: “To fight for the Motherland! / To fight for Stalin! / Fighting honor is dear to us! / Well-fed horses / Beat their hooves. / We will meet the Stalinist enemy! - M.G.) Then they forgot about money and benefits and hung this slogan on us: “To fight for the Motherland! Fight for Stalin!

At our place, at my place, we annually celebrated Victory Day. Moreover, it was a mixed, double company: my army, girls mostly, and Ivan's army, mostly men. Ivan is my first husband and father of Tanya and Alyosha. Well, of course, everyone drank well. Our large room was located, as it is called, on the mezzanine, with windows overlooking the Fontanka, it was a beautiful room, an old manor apartment. On the contrary was lamp post. And then a drunken Vanka climbed onto this pillar and shouted: “To fight for the Motherland! Fight for Stalin! And from below, friends, also drunk, shouted to him: “To fight for the Motherland! Fight for Stalin! And I don’t know what those veterans who happened to be still alive think, why they don’t say: “We didn’t say that! We shouted “...your mother!””? And the wounded, when unbearable, shouted “Oh, mommy”, pitifully like little children.

What did the people who shouted "...your mother" actually fight for? And what did you personally fight for?

They fought not for the Motherland and not for Stalin, there was simply no way out: the Germans were in front, and SMERSH was behind. Well, an irresistible inner feeling that it should be so. And this exclamation? It has one intuitive-mystical content - "Perhaps it will blow over!".

And I did not fight in the literal sense. I didn't kill anyone. I only eased suffering for someone, I eased death for someone. I'm afraid of literature, but I'll quote anyway. Just "I was then with my people, where my people, unfortunately, were."

It was bombing my wounded, my girls, they killed me.



The ambulance train is such a missed link in military mythology.

They don’t seem to write anywhere about stupidity about our medical trains, but I’ll tell you. Suddenly an order - I don’t know who, maybe the head of the rear? Paint over all the roofs of the ambulance train cars with white and draw a red cross. The lines are almost a meter wide. Say, the Germans will not bomb. And the military commandant of the Vologda station gives out paint to all ACH (administrative and economic units. - M.G.) of passing medical trains. And the girls on the roofs grumble. They paint. And so well they began to bomb us on our red crosses. And the bombing is scary on the ground, but a hundred times worse on the train. The train stops as instructed. The walking wounded scatter, and you remain in the car with those who are lying down - where will you go? And then, when they have bombed and fired back at low level, the girls walk on both sides of the tracks and look for their wounded, who are alive. And if he is killed, they take the card of the advanced region and the documents that he has with him. We didn't bury. And I don’t know who buried them and whether they were buried at all. We did not travel long with the crosses - again an urgent order: paint over all the roofs with green. The most terrible bombardment was near Darnitsa. We were already without crosses, but almost half of our wounded remained there.

And there was one more thing - not terrible, but disgusting. In each carriage there is a nurse and an orderly. And they are responsible for ensuring that as many wounded were loaded as there were unloading. Alive or dead, it doesn't matter. The main thing is that no one runs away along the way. And we all go from car to car with keys. You go with dressings or the orderly drags two buckets of soup from the kitchen (it was right behind the engine), and on each platform - unlock, lock, unlock, lock. This is not a medical, but a security function. And if someone runs away, this is an emergency, and they wash their heads not only for us, but also for the boss. And then our political officer is distracted from his chess and radio - he had no other work visible to us - and becomes the main one. And you must write a report to him, where, on what stage, who ran away. Describe the wound to make it easier to catch. And in general, did not help? And if there is a real emergency, if grief - your wounded person died - no hassle. Unload the corpse at the first station where there is a military commandant (they were only at large stations), his campaigners will be taken away, and that's it.

Can you name the three biggest lies about the war?

I have already named two: about the fact that the Jews allegedly did not fight, and about mass volunteerism. And the third lie has been going on since 1945. She is exploiting the theme of the war in order to fool the brains of its actual participants and those who have not seen the war. And all these parades and public holidays are not a sad commemoration of those who did not come from the war, but the militarization of public consciousness, to some extent preparing it for the coming war, and the acquisition by the current and previous authorities of what is today called rating - and domestically and internationally. And of course, for sixty-five years now, the war has been attributed to the fact that the country - not the government and people close to it - lives badly, catastrophically badly.

They say that immediately after the war, and even at the end of the war, there was a feeling that everything would change, the country would be different.

Yes, the country will be different. What a country has been so incredible! I'll tell you, so I read the previous issue " Novaya Gazeta”, there is an essay about some disabled woman who lives in a destroyed house, her husband does not walk, she drags him in her arms to a bucket. In general, some kind of horror. And I caught myself crying on my keyboard. Just now I saw that the blots. Because it is impossible. Sixty-five years have passed! Sixty-five years - "to all the disabled people of the apartment." Sixty-five years - "to all invalids of the car." And I know that my girls in the Perm region (I had almost the entire team from the Urals, the girls were mostly Permian), my nurses, those who have not died yet, huddle in some corners.

And me too, an old fool: Putin comes to the premieres - that was two years ago - well, I'm sitting in front of my TV, and Putin says, I hear with my own ears that we should provide cars for all war invalids this year, and who does not want to take the car, we give a hundred thousand. And I think: I don’t need a car, but I need a hundred thousand.

And where are these hundred thousand, you were not interested?

How can I be interested? Of course, I can write: “Dear comrade Putin, where are my hundred thousand? (Laughs) In whose pocket did you put them? Sorry for the paper.

Before, while many have not passed away - the joy of a rare meeting with those who were then nearby. Now no joy. Here I take out photographs: the seventh grade, Moscow school No. 36, and the other - the tenth grade of the Leningrad school No. 11. And I don’t go to the site “Odnoklassniki.Ru”, but to the site obd-memorial.ru - “Memorial of the Ministry of Defense”. And I'm looking for where and when my classmates ended their lives.

Most of my "girls" were older than me. And life ends. I have only two girls left: Valya Bolotova and Fisa (Anfisa) Moskvina. Fisa lives in terrible conditions in the Perm region. But for two years there have been no letters from her - she must have died. From time to time, at my request, some girls from the Moscow archive sent her some money - they have a power of attorney for my pension, and they buy me medicines, books and transfer money to someone. I can't do much.

So why don't the surviving veterans refute the myths about the war, which are becoming more and more every year?

And why did we, returning from the war, think: we are like this, we are like that, we can do everything - and most of them shut up? FROM

On May 25, 1945, at a reception in the Kremlin in honor of the Victory, Stalin made the following toast: “Do not think that I will say anything extraordinary. I have the simplest, most ordinary toast. I would like to drink to the health of people who have few ranks and an invisible title. For people who are considered "cogs" of the great state mechanism, but without whom all of us, marshals and commanders of fronts and armies, roughly speaking, are not worth a damn thing. Some "screw" went wrong, and it's over. I raise this toast to simple, ordinary, modest people, to the "cogs" that keep our great state mechanism in all branches of science, economy and military affairs. There are a lot of them, their name is legion, because they are tens of millions of people. These are humble people. No one writes anything about them, they have no titles, few ranks, but these are people who hold us like the foundation holds the top. I drink to the health of these people, to our respected comrades.”

“... Everything is as old as the world - after the death of his wife, a stepmother came to Sakharov's house and threw out the children. At all times and among all peoples, an act is by no means laudable. The oral and written memory of mankind abounds scary tales on this account. The impudent trampling of universal morality cannot be understood in any way within its framework, hence the concerns of otherworldly explanations, they usually talk about such a stepmother - a witch. And as proof, they cite, among other things, the "moral" qualities of those whom she brings under the roof of a widower - her offspring. No wonder folk wisdom says - from an apple tree an apple, from a spruce cone. Folk wisdom is profoundly correct.

The widower Sakharov met a certain woman. In her youth, a dissolute girl beat off her husband from a sick friend, bringing her to death with blackmail, telephone messages with disgusting details. Disappointment - he died in the war. Gradually, over the years, experience came, she reached almost professionalism in the seduction and subsequent plundering of the elderly and, therefore, with the position of men. The case is well known, but always complicated by the fact that, as a rule, any man in great years has a close woman, usually a wife. So it needs to be removed. How?

She started a passionate affair with a major engineer Moses Zlotnik. But again, an annoying hindrance is nearby - the wife! The engineer removed her, simply killed her, and went to prison for many years. A very noisy case prompted Lev Sheinin, a well-known Soviet criminologist and publicist in those years, to write the story "Disappearance", in which Zlotnik's cohabitant appeared under the name "Lucy B." It was military time, and, of course, the frightened brisk "Lyusya B." took refuge as a nurse in a hospital train. A familiar story unfolds on wheels - a connection with the head of the train, Vladimir Dorfman, for whom the nurse was only fit as a daughter. The finale is very common in such cases: the adventurer was driven away, written off the train.

In 1948, another affair, with a major business executive Yakov Kisselman, a wealthy man and, of course, very middle-aged. The "fatal" woman by this time managed to enter the medical institute. There she was considered not one of the last - to the right and left she talks about her "exploits" in the sanitary train, carefully silent about their finale. Outwardly, she did not really stand out against the background of post-war students and female students.

What joys in Kisselman, he lived on Sakhalin and visited the Center on short trips, and next to him was classmate Ivan Semenov, and she enters into an understandable relationship with him. In March 1950, her daughter Tatyana was born. Mother congratulated both - Kisselman and Semenov on happy fatherhood. The following year, Kisselman formalized relations with the mother of the "daughter", and two years later Semenov also contacted her by marriage.

For the next nine years, she was legally married to two spouses at the same time, and Tatyana had two fathers from an early age - "Papa Jacob" and "Papa Ivan". She also learned to distinguish them - from "Papa Jacob" money, from "Papa Ivan" paternal attention. The girl turned out to be smart not like a child and never upset either of the fathers with the message that there was another. I must think that she obeyed her mother first of all. Significant money transfers from Sakhalin at first ensured the lives of two "poor students".

In 1955, the "heroine" of our story, let's finally call her - Elena Bonner, gave birth to a son, Alyosha. This is how the citizen Kisselman-Semenova-Bonner existed in those days, leading a cheerful life and simultaneously raising her own kind - Tatyana and Alexei. Moses Zlotnik, who had served his sentence, tormented by remorse, was released in the mid-fifties. Having accidentally met the one whom he considered the culprit of his terrible fate, he recoiled in horror, she proudly silently passed by - new acquaintances, new connections, new hopes ...

In the late sixties, Bonner finally found a "big beast" - a widower, academician A. D. Sakharov. But, alas, he has three children - Tatyana, Lyuba and Dima. Bonner swore eternal love for the academician and, for a start, threw Tanya, Lyuba and Dima out of the family nest, where she placed her own - Tatyana and Alexei.

With change marital status Sakharov changed the focus of his interests in life. The theoretician part-time went into politics, began to meet with those who soon received the nickname "human rights activists." Bonner brought Sakharov together with them, along the way commanding her husband to love her instead of her children, for they would be of great help in the ambitious enterprise she had started - to become the leader (or leaders?) of "dissenters" in the Soviet Union.

1985

Since there were, in general, only a few of them, the newly appeared "children" of Academician Sakharov, including two people, from his point of view, turned out to be some kind of reinforcement. Sakharov's loud moaning about the violation of "rights" in the USSR, undoubtedly, at the instigation of Bonner, went, so to speak, on two levels - a kind of "in general" and specifically on the example of "oppression" of newly found "children". What happened to them? The Bonner family expanded its ranks - first by one unit due to Yankelevich, who married Tatyana Kisselman-Semenova-Bonner, and then by one more - Alexei married Olga Levshina. All of them under the leadership of Bonner engaged in "politics". And for starters, they came into conflict with our education system - in other words, they turned out to be loafers and loafers. On this weighty basis, they hastened to declare themselves "persecuted" because of their "father", that is, A. D. Sakharov, which, through the proper channels and, unfortunately, with his blessing, was brought to the attention of the West.

The real children of the academician made an attempt to protect their good name. Tatyana Andreevna Sakharova, having learned that her father had another "daughter" (and even with the same name), who salutes them right and left, tried to reason with the impostor. And this is what happened, according to her: "Once I myself heard how Semenova introduced herself to journalists as Tatyana Sakharova, the daughter of an academician. I demanded that she stop this. Do you know what she answered me? "If you want to avoid misunderstandings between us , change your last name. "Well, what can you do with such agility! After all, by this time Bonner's daughter had managed to marry Yankelevich, a dropout student.

Tatyana Bonner, who inherited her mother's aversion to learning, could not master science at the Faculty of Journalism of Moscow State University. Then, at the Bonner section of the family council, they decided to turn her into a "production worker." Yankelevich's mother, Tamara Samoilovna Feygina, head of the workshop at the Mechnikov Institute in Krasnogorsk, fictitiously accepted her at the end of 1974 as a laboratory assistant in her workshop, where she was listed for about two years, receiving a salary and certificates "from the place of work for submission to the evening department of the Faculty of Journalism of Moscow State University. In the end, the deception was revealed" and the imaginary laboratory assistant was expelled. Here the "children" of Academician Sakharov began to cry - we want to "freedom", to the West!

Why at this particular time? Tatyana Bonner's fraud does not explain everything. Losing the lab assistant's salary is no god knows what damage. All Sakharov's money in the USSR was taken away by Bonner a long time ago. The main thing was different: Sakharov was given out for anti-Soviet work Nobel Prize, on his foreign accounts, currency was accumulated for various libels against our country. Dollars! Is it possible to spend them with us? Life with dollars there, in the West, seemed cloudless, there was no need to work or, what is even worse for the parasitic offspring of Bonner, to study. In addition, new complications arrived. Aleksey, with his wife, brought his mistress Elizabeth into the house, who, after a criminal abortion, through the efforts of Bonner, was placed as a servant in the family.

So, there was a piercing screech, set by various "radio voices" to bass notes - freedom "to the children of Academician Sakharov!" The "father", Sakharov, also stood up for them. Those who knew the "family" closely understood why. Bonner, as a method of persuading her husband to do so, took it into the custom to beat him with anything. With cracks, she taught the intelligent scientist to resort to her usual jargon - in other words, to insert unprintable words into "accusatory" speeches. Under a hail of blows, the poor fellow somehow learned to pronounce them, although he never rose to the heights of Bonner foul language. What to do here! Intervene? It is impossible, personal life, because the victim does not complain. On the other hand, leaving it as it is will kill the academician. Now, after all, it was not about learning how to use abusive language, but about mastering the Sakharov dollars in the West. They spat and rescued the scientist who went wild before our eyes - freedom is so freedom for "children".

Yankelevich with Tatyana and Alexey Bonner with Olga in 1977 drove off to Israel, and then moved to the United States. Yankelevich turned out to be very prudent - he took away the power of attorney from the academician to manage all his financial affairs in the West, that is, uncontrolled disposal of everything that Sakharov was paid for his anti-Soviet deeds.

He, a lazybones and half-educated, turned out to be a resourceful guy - he bought a three-story house near Boston, furnished himself well, got cars, etc. He blew the Nobel Prize and Sakharov's fees. In all likelihood, the gluttonous Bonner children quickly ate up Sakharov's capital, but you have to live! There is also inflation, the mores of the "consumption" society, money is melting away. Where and how to earn? They began to look for guardians there, in the West, who would help the unfortunate "children" of Academician Sakharov. The layman there, of course, is unaware that the real three children of A. D. Sakharov live quietly in the USSR, work and study. From the pages of newspapers, on radio and television, the firm "Yankelevich and Co." is briskly broadcasting, demanding attention to the "children" of Academician Sakharov.

In 1978, in Venice, a noisy anti-Soviet performance. Uniate Cardinal Slipy blessed the "grandson" of Academician Sakharov Matvey. The cardinal is a war criminal rejected by believers in western regions Ukraine, the executioner of the Lvov ghetto. The boy, whose head was slipped under the blessing of the executioner in the cassock, is the son of Yankelevich and Tatyana Kisselman-Semenova-Bonner, called in the Yankelevich family in a simple way - Motya.

In May 1983, a loud anti-Soviet ceremony at the White House itself. President R. Reagan signs a proclamation declaring May 21 "Andrei Sakharov Day" in the USA. The capital's Washington Post reports: "Members of Congress and Sakharov's daughter Tatyana Yankelevich were present at this ceremony." "Daughter" and that's it! Somehow even obscenely, this woman was much more than twenty years old when she found another "dad" ...

The name of the Soviet academician children Bonner sat tightly. In the West, they make endless statements about the terrible persecution of imaginary "human rights activists" in the USSR, attend anti-Soviet sabbaths, and broadcast on radio and television. For the sake of truth, it should be noted that they are not given a special will, they receive a platform mainly in different kind anti-Soviet campaigns, the significance of which is blown out of proportion in broadcasts to the countries of socialism. As for the Western audience, it has enough of its own worries. Yes, and the "children" of Academician Sakharov are not paid a lot, the bourgeois figured out that they are sheer mediocrity even in their dirty business.

The director of the production of the noisy booth "Children of Academician Sakharov" is Elena Bonner. It was she who declared her oversized parasites to be his "children", it was she who turned their money affairs at the expense of the unscrupulous income of her next husband, and when the funds for a wild life in the West began to dry up, she raised a howl about the "reunification" of the family, demanding to release the "bride" to the West his son Elizabeth, who was a servant at Bonner. She became a “bride” for the simple reason that Alexei, having got to the West, annulled his marriage with his wife Olga Levshina, whom he took with a big scandal to the western “paradise”.

Sakharov, under a hail of blows, Bonner also began to advocate for the "reunification" of the family. Apparently, he was unaware that the "reunification" was started by Bonner as an occasion to remind about the "family" of Sakharov in the hope of extracting material dividends from this. This time she also forced Sakharov to go on a hunger strike. But Sakharov does not live in the blessed stronghold of Western "democracy", let's say in England, where there are no obstacles to free will - if you want to starve in protest and die, no one will lift a finger. "Democracy"! A big child, which Sakharov is after all, was taken to the hospital, treated, fed. He stood his ground, Bonner went to the hospital with him, however, with the staff she did not give free rein to her hands. And they released their housekeeper over the cordon, thereby prompting the eccentric to resume normal eating,

The newspaper "Russian Voice", published in New York, back in 1976 completed an extensive article "Madame Bonner - "Evil Genius" Sakharov?" referring to the "disciples" of the physicist, who told foreign correspondents: "He himself is deprived of the most elementary rights in his own family." One of them, choking out the words with pain, adds: "It seems that Academician Sakharov has become a 'hostage' of the Zionists, who, through the mediation of the absurd and unbalanced Bonner, are dictating their terms to him." Well, the "disciples" know better, I was not among them, I don't know. But I believe.

He still lives in the city of Gorky on the Volga in a four-room apartment Sakharov. Regular swings in his mood are noticed. Calm periods, when Bonner, leaving him, leaves for Moscow, and depressive ones - when she comes from the capital to her husband. He arrives after visiting the US Embassy in Moscow, meeting someone, carefully receiving an academic salary for him. This is followed by a collective composition by the spouses of some libel, sometimes interrupted by a stormy coupling with beatings. The suffering side is Sakharov. In addition, he understands that he is our pain and grief. And swagger.

Against this background, I would consider the next "revelations" on behalf of Sakharov, transmitted by Western radio voices. Why "on behalf"? Having subjected to a thorough, if you like, textual analysis of his articles and so on (fortunately, there are not very many in terms of volume), I cannot get rid of the feeling that a lot was written under the dictation or under the pressure of someone else's will.

Dmitry Sakharov:
My father was brought to the grave by Elena Bonner!

* Why was Dmitry Sakharov ashamed of his father?
* Why did Ms. Bonner refuse to look at the unknown portrait of Andrei Dmitrievich, recently exhibited in New York?
* How did Elena Bonner manage to throw the most cunning oligarch Boris Berezovsky?
* Why don't the academician's associates respect Sakharov's second wife?
* Why does the granddaughter of the scientist Polina Sakharova know nothing about her famous grandfather?

The answers to these questions are the finishing touches to the portrait of Andrei Sakharov, an outstanding scientist, human rights activist and in many ways a controversial person. On the eve of a round historical date, and on August 12 - 50 years since the test (the article was prepared 8 years ago - in 2003) of the first hydrogen bomb, the creator of which Sakharov is considered, we found the son of the illustrious academician. 46-year-old Dmitry is a physicist by training, like his father. This is his first interview for the Russian press.

Do you need the son of Academician Sakharov? He lives in the USA, in Boston. And his name is Alexei Semenov, - Dmitry Sakharov bitterly joked when we arranged a meeting by phone.

In fact, Alexei is the son of Elena Bonner. This woman became the second wife of Andrei Sakharov after the death of my mother, Claudia Alekseevna Vikhireva. For almost 30 years, Aleksey Semenov gave interviews as “the son of academician Sakharov,” foreign radio stations voiced in every way in his defense. And when my father was alive, I felt like an orphan and dreamed that dad would spend with me at least a tenth of the time that he devoted to the offspring of my stepmother.

evil stepmother

Dmitry re-read Andrei Sakharov's memoirs many times. Tried to understand why it happened that loving father suddenly moved away from him and his sisters, marrying Elena Bonner. He even counted how many times Sakharov mentioned his own children and the children of his second wife in books. The comparison was not in favor of Dmitry and his older sisters - Tatyana and Lyuba Sakharov. The academician wrote about them as if by the way, and dedicated dozens of pages in his memoirs to Tatiana and Alexei Semenov. And this is not surprising.

When my mother died, we continued to live together for some time - dad, me and sisters. But after marrying Bonner, my father left us, settling in his stepmother's apartment, - says Dmitry - Tanya had married by that time, I was barely 15 years old, and 23-year-old Lyuba replaced my parents. Together with her, we hosted. In his memoirs, my father writes that my older daughters turned me against him. It is not true. It's just that no one ever invited me to the house where dad lived with Bonner. I rarely came there, completely missing my father. And Elena Georgievna never left us alone for a minute. Under the stern gaze of my stepmother, I dared not speak of my boyish problems. There was something like a protocol: a joint lunch, questions on duty and the same answers.

Sakharov wrote that he supported you, giving you 150 rubles a month.

This is true, but something else is interesting here: my father never gave money into the hands of me or my sister. We received postal orders. Most likely, Bonner advised him to send money by mail. It seems that she provided this form of help in case I suddenly began to say that my father was not helping me. But he stopped sending these alimony as soon as I turned 18. And here you can’t find fault with anything: everything is according to the law.

Dmitry did not even think to be offended by his father. He understood that his father was an outstanding scientist, was proud of him and, having matured, tried not to attach importance to the oddities in their relationship with him. But one day he still felt embarrassed for his famous parent. During Gorky's exile, Sakharov announced his second hunger strike. He demanded that the Soviet government issue a permit to travel abroad to the fiancee of Bonner's son, Lisa.

In those days, I came to Gorky, hoping to convince my father to stop the senseless self-torture, ”says Dmitry. - By the way, I found Lisa at dinner! As I remember now, she ate pancakes with black caviar. Imagine how sorry I felt for my father, it was insulting for him and even uncomfortable. He, an academician, a world-famous scientist, arranges a noisy action, risks his health - and for what? It is clear that if he thus sought to stop nuclear weapons testing or would demand democratic reforms ... But he just wanted Lisa to be allowed into America to Alexei Semenov. But the son of Bonner might not have draped abroad if he really loved the girl so much. Sakharov had a severe heart ache, and there was a huge risk that his body could not withstand the nervous and physical stress. Later I tried to talk to my father about this subject. He answered in monosyllables: it was necessary. Only to whom? Of course, Elena Bonner, it was she who egged him on. He loved her recklessly, like a child, and was ready for anything for her, even death. Bonner understood how strong her influence was, and used it. I still believe that these shows greatly undermined the health of my father. Elena Georgievna knew perfectly well how disastrous hunger strikes were for the pope, and she perfectly understood what was pushing him to the grave.

The hunger strike really did not go in vain for Sakharov: immediately after this action, the academician suffered a spasm of cerebral vessels.

Academician-henpecked

When the children, son-in-law and daughter-in-law Bonner flew over the hill one after another, Dmitry also wanted to emigrate. But the father and stepmother unanimously said that they would not give him permission to leave the Union.

Why did you want to escape from the USSR, was your life really in danger?

No. I, like Tatyana Semenova and Alexei, dreamed of a well-fed life in the West. But it seems that my stepmother was afraid that I might become a competitor to her son and daughter, and - most importantly - she was afraid that the truth about Sakharov's real children would be revealed. Indeed, in this case, her offspring could get less benefits from foreign human rights organizations. And the father blindly followed his wife's lead. Deprived of his father's money, Dima earned a living himself. While still a student, he married, and his son Nikolai was born. My wife also studied at the university. The young family often had to go hungry, but by no means for political reasons, like an academician - the scholarship was not even enough for food. Somehow, in despair, Dmitry once again borrowed 25 rubles from a neighbor. I bought food for three rubles, and for 22 rubles I bought an electric grinder and began to go around the apartments of citizens, offering to sharpen knives, scissors and meat grinders. “I didn’t want to turn to my father for help,” says Dmitry. - Yes, and he would certainly refuse me. I did not go to him with a request for support and later, when I broke my leg. He got out as best he could, friends did not let him disappear.

ANDREY SAKHAROV WITH HIS CHILDREN: still together

Dmitry and his sisters gradually got used to their troubles and problems to solve on their own. Even on holy days for their family - the anniversary of the death of their mother - they did without a father. - I suspect that my father has never visited our mother's grave since he married Elena Georgievna. I could not understand this. After all, it seemed to me that my father loved my mother very much during her lifetime. What happened to him when he began to live with Bonner, I do not know. He seemed to be covered with a shell. When Lyuba's first child died during childbirth, the father did not even find time to come to her and expressed his condolences over the phone. I suspect that Bonner was jealous of his former life and he did not want to upset her.

Slap in the face on the bald head

During Gorky's exile in 1982, the then young artist Sergei Bocharov came to visit Andrei Sakharov. He dreamed of painting a portrait of a disgraced scientist and human rights activist. Worked for four hours. We talked to pass the time. Elena Georgievna also supported the conversation. Of course, the weaknesses of Soviet reality were not without discussion.

Sakharov did not see everything in black colors, Bocharov admitted in an interview with Express Gazeta. - Andrei Dmitrievich sometimes even praised the government of the USSR for some successes. Now I don't remember why. But for each such remark, he immediately received a slap in the face on his bald head from his wife. While I was writing the sketch, Sakharov got at least seven times. At the same time, the world luminary meekly endured cracks, and it was clear that he was used to them.

Then it dawned on the artist: it was necessary to write not Sakharov, but Bonner, because it was she who controlled the scientist. Bocharov began to paint her portrait with black paint right on top of the image of the academician. Bonner was curious about how the artist was doing and glanced at the canvas. And when she saw herself, she became furious and rushed to smear oil paints with her hand.

I told Bonner that I don’t want to draw a “stump”, which repeats the thoughts of an evil wife, and even suffers beatings from her, ”recalls Sergey Bocharov. - And Bonner immediately kicked me out into the street.

And last week in New York there was an exhibition of paintings by Bocharov. The artist also brought to the USA the same unfinished sketch of Sakharov 20 years ago.

I specially invited Elena Georgievna to the exhibition. But, apparently, she was informed about my surprise, and she did not come to see the pictures, citing illness, says Bocharov.

Stolen Legacy

There are legends about Elena Bonner's reverent attitude to money. One such incident was told to Dmitry by people who knew Sakharov's widow closely. Elena Georgievna has a grandson Matvey. This is the son of her eldest daughter. A loving grandmother shocked the whole family when she gave Mota a tea set for her wedding. The day before, she found him in one of the Boston dumps. Cups and saucers, however, were not scratched, because strange Americans sometimes throw away not only old things, but also those that they simply did not like. Bonner's prudence was clearly manifested, and when the time came to distribute the inheritance of her deceased husband.

CLAUDIA AND ANDREW:
their marriage was disinterested

The will was drawn up with the active participation of the stepmother, - says Dmitry. - Therefore, it is not surprising that Bonner got the right to dispose of her father's literary heritage, and in the event of her death, her daughter Tatyana. Part of the dacha in Zhukovka went to me and my sisters. I will not name the sums of money, but the share of stepmother's children was higher. Elena Georgievna sold the dacha herself and gave us cash. But she acted in the most virtuoso way with Berezovsky's money! Two years ago, the Sakharov Museum in Moscow was on the verge of closing - there were no funds for its maintenance and staff salaries. Then the oligarch threw three million dollars from the master's shoulder. Bonner immediately ordered that this money be sent to the account of the Sakharov Foundation in the United States, and not in Russia! And this foreign organization actively engaged not so much in charity as in commerce. Now millions are spinning on accounts in the United States, and the father’s museum still drags out a miserable existence, Dmitry assures. - What the Sakharov Foundation is doing in Boston is a big mystery to me. Occasionally, he reminds of himself with speeches in the Western press, some kind of sluggish actions are held. The fund is handled by Bonner herself.

Dmitry's older sister, Tatyana Sakharova-Vernaya, also lives in Boston. She went there a few years ago to follow her daughter, who had married an American. Tatyana has nothing to do with the activities of the Sakharov Foundation in the USA. And, as she confessed to us on the phone, she also does not know what the American foundation named after her father is doing.

And not so long ago, another Sakharov archive was opened in Boston. It was headed by Tatiana Semenova. Why a twin was needed is not clear, because an organization with exactly the same name has been working in Russia for a long time. It has recently become known that the US government has paid off one and a half million dollars to this incomprehensible American structure. That is, Bonner's children and grandchildren now have more than enough money for rich apartments, mansions and limousines.

Instead of an afterword

Dmitry lives in the center of Moscow in a good "Stalin". He never became a professional physicist. According to him, he is now engaged in "a small private business." After the death of his father, he never spoke to Elena Bonner. During rare visits to Russia, the widow does not try to contact him. The year before last, Dmitry was invited to celebrate the 80th birthday of Andrei Sakharov in the former Arzamas-16 (now it is the city of Sarov). Father's colleagues did not invite Bonner to the celebrations.

Andrei Sakharov's employees don't like to remember Elena Georgievna on the "box", says Dmitry.

They believe that if not for her, then, perhaps, Sakharov could return to science. During our conversation, I probably did not look around very decently, trying to find on the walls, in cabinets, on shelves at least one small photograph of the “father” of the hydrogen bomb. But I found on the bookshelf only a single picture from the family archive - the old man is holding a little boy in his arms.

This boy is me. And the old man is the father of my mother, Claudia Vikhireva, - Dmitry explains.

This picture is dear to me.

Is there at least one portrait of Andrei Sakharov in your house?

There is no icon, - the academician's son chuckled.

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"implantation of the Jewish will as an intellectual conscience"

“... in the beginning, despite the fact that I was a nurse and mobilized as a nurse, I was put to a completely different position. There was such a position, its very fast liquidated - assistant political instructor ... "

“August 1968 was ending, the Prague events. I was visiting my mother's sister in France. I didn't need anything - Paris, boulevards, museums. Even Nike of Samothrace. I literally died pain, shame and guilt. I thought that just like me, my country is suffering and I need to be at home. And I have a return ticket for September 15th. And every day you have to get acquainted with a new portion of relatives. The wife of a second cousin came with a ten-year-old son.

Entering, he silently stood against the wall. He was asked: "Why don't you say hello to cousin?" And he, looking into my eyes, said: "I do not shake hands with a Russian officer."

“Elena Bonner left the CPSU in the 70s, in my opinion in the 72nd, 20 years before the mass exodus from the Communist Party began. Well, the rest is known to all. Elena Bonner - one of the founders of the human rights movement in the USSR, wife, friend and closest associate academician Andrei Dmitrievich Sakharov, guardian of his legacy. And the official Elena Bonner did not hold any positions anywhere and never "

Sakharov with his own children Bonner with his children Sakharov with Bonner

Academician Sakharov had three natural children - Luba, Tanya and Dmitry. Bonner Sakharov took her two children - Tatyana and Alexey "Semenov". And his daughter-in-law Lisa. In the official historiography, it is they who are referred to as “children of Academician Sakharov”, still receiving grants ...

Tells own son Sakharov
Dmitry: " When my mother died, we continued to live together for some time - dad, me and sisters. But after marrying Bonner, my father left us, settling in his stepmother's apartment. Tanya was married by that time, I was barely 15 years old, and 23-year-old Lyuba replaced my parents. Together with her, we hosted. In his memoirs, my father writes that my older daughters turned me against him. It is not true. It's just that no one ever invited me to the house where dad lived with Bonner. I rarely came there, completely missing my father. And Elena Georgievna never left us alone for a minute. Under the stern gaze of my stepmother, I dared not speak of my boyish problems. There was something like a protocol: a joint lunch, on-duty questions and the same answers».
«… Father never gave money to me or my sister. We received postal orders. Most likely, Bonner advised him to send money by mail. It seems that she provided this form of help in case I suddenly began to say that my father was not helping me. But he stopped sending these alimony as soon as I turned 18.».
« During Gorky's exile, Sakharov announced his second hunger strike. He demanded that the Soviet government issue permission to travel abroad to the fiancee of Bonner's son, Lisa.

... In those days, I came to Gorky, hoping to convince my father to stop senseless self-torture. By the way, I found Liza at dinner! As I remember now, she ate pancakes with black caviar.
Imagine how sorry I felt for my father, it was insulting for him and even uncomfortable. He, an academician, a world-famous scientist, arranges a noisy action, risks his health - and for what? It is clear that if he thus sought to stop nuclear weapons testing or would demand democratic reforms ... But he just wanted Lisa to be allowed into America to Alexei Semenov ».

Portrait
« During Gorky's exile in 1982, the then young artist came to visit Andrei Sakharov Sergey Bocharov. He dreamed of painting a portrait of a disgraced scientist and human rights activist. Worked for four hours. We talked to pass the time. Elena Georgievna also supported the conversation. Of course, the weaknesses of Soviet reality were not without discussion.
“Sakharov did not see everything in black colors,” Bocharov admitted in an interview with Express Gazeta. - Andrei Dmitrievich sometimes even praised the government of the USSR for some successes. Now I don't remember why. But for each such remark, he immediately received a slap in the face on his bald head from his wife. While I was writing the sketch, Sakharov got at least seven times. At the same time, the world luminary meekly endured cracks, and it was clear that he was used to them.
Then it dawned on the artist: it was necessary to write not Sakharov, but Bonner, because it was she who controlled the scientist. Bocharov began to paint her portrait with black paint right on top of the image of the academician. Bonner was curious about how the artist was doing and glanced at the canvas. And when she saw herself, she became furious and rushed to smear oil paints with her hand.
“I told Bonner that I don’t want to draw a “stump”, which repeats the thoughts of an evil wife, and even suffers beatings from her,” recalls Sergey Bocharov. “And Bonner immediately kicked me out on the street.”»

Elena Georgievna has a grandson Matvey. This is the son of her eldest daughter. A loving grandmother shocked the whole family when she gave Mota a tea set for her wedding. The day before, she found him in one of the Boston dumps. Cups and saucers, however, were not scratched, because strange Americans sometimes throw away not only old things, but also those that they simply did not like.

From the book of S.P. Kapitsa " My memories »

« Elena Bonner asked her father to sign a letter in defense of a dissident. The father refused, saying that he never signs collective letters, and if necessary, he writes to whomever needs it. But in order to somehow soften this matter, he invited the Sakharovs to dine. When dinner was over, the father, as usual, called Andrei Dmitrievich to his office to talk. Elena Bonner immediately reacted: "Andrei Dmitrievich will speak only in my presence." The action was like in the theater: a long pause, everyone was silent. Finally, the father said dryly: "Sergey, please see the guests." The guests got up and said goodbye, my father did not go out with them into the hall, where they got dressed, and I walked them to the car.».

From the memoirs of Peter Alexandrov The most human person »

Alexandrov's first negative attitude towards Sakharov's ideas arose when he was appointed scientific director of the nuclear submarine program. In his memoirs, Alexandrov talks about how he was amazed by Sakharov's idea to equip submarines with weapons of absolutely extraordinary nuclear power for the most "effective" use of it against America. The project consisted of initiating a giant tidal wave with synchronized underwater explosions, which was supposed to sweep across the entire North American continent, washing away all life.

« That is, - says the AP, - it was not about a war against the army, navy or some military facilities, but about the total destruction of people»…

« Very sharply, - says Pyotr Alexandrov, - the Presidential Administration spoke out against Sakharov when he found a moral justification for the hijackers after the murder of a flight attendant Hope Kurchenko. Sakharov believed that the fight against the ban on free exit from the USSR justifies the hijacking of the plane and the murder, while, according to the AP, no political dogma can justify the killing of people not involved in this struggle. He also did not accept Sakharov’s motives for hunger strike: “I don’t believe a man,” he said, “who abandoned his children from his first wife and is starving because the bride of his new wife’s son is not allowed to go abroad.". But he went to Brezhnev and convinced the latter to make the right decision, after which Sakharov ended his hunger strike.

From the memoirs of A.D. Sakharov
"In places of military glory": ".... At a formal dinner, I sat next to Madame Mitterrand... Lucy [Bonner] between the President Mitterrand and UN Secretary General Perez de Cuellar... The interpreter was with me, and after an hour and a half of conversation in English, Lucy was very tired ... On December 11, we went for a walk around Paris. In 1968, Lucy spent a whole month here, going wherever she wanted. This time we were heavily restricted by the security service... We wanted to go to Place Pigalle and buy tights with lurex, but the security did not allow it, because of the fear of the crowd and criminals... We had to buy tights in a wildly expensive store, not quite the ones what we wanted .. When we drove through the area of ​​\u200b\u200bsex shops and porn cinemas, we met a familiar couple walking peacefully there. It was the talented bard Bulat Okudzhava, an old friend of Lyusin, and his wife...»*

« A few words about how I feel about the Palestinian problem in general. Undoubtedly, every nation has the right to its own territory - this applies to the Palestinians, and to the Israelis, and, say, to the people of the Crimean Tatars. After the tragedy that broke out in the 40s, the Palestinians became the object of manipulation, political game and speculation ... It would have long been possible to settle refugees in the richest Arab countries...” (p. 529)**.

Conversation between Sakharov and Bonner with Solzhenitsyn's wife

The spirit of Slavophilism throughout the centuries

represented a terrible evil "

« [She] said: how can I ... attach great importance to the problem of emigration when ... there are so many much more important, much more massive problems in the country? She spoke, in particular, about the fact that millions of collective farmers are essentially serfs, deprived of the right to leave the collective farm and leave to live and work elsewhere. Regarding our concern [to give children an education abroad], Alya said that millions of parents in the Russian people are deprived of the opportunity to give their children any education at all. Outraged by the didactic tone of Natalia Svetlova's "notation" addressed to me, Lusya exclaimed:
- Fuck me on the Russian people! You, too, cook semolina porridge for your children, and not for the entire Russian people.
Lucy's words about the Russian people in this house, perhaps, sounded “blasphemous” [for some reason, the academician himself put the word “blasphemous” in quotation marks]. But essentially and emotionally she had a right to them."(p. 577).

« The reason for the deportation was the cooperation of the Crimean Tatar people with the Germans during the occupation of Crimea. ... Undoubtedly, however, what to make responsible for individual crimes - if they took place - the whole nation is unacceptable either during the war, or after almost forty years!"(p. 463). " During the day I rode a trolleybus and could see how Lithuanians treat Russians... As soon as I sat down on a seat next to a Lithuanian or a Lithuanian, they defiantly turned away or moved to another seat. Surely they are entitled to it."(p. 631).

Andrey Dmitrievich Sakharov describes with admiration the behavior Sergei Adamovich Kovalev at the court. When the audience in the hall reacted without sympathy, with chuckles, he shouted: “ I won't speak in front of a herd of pigs!"(p. 633) ***.

Succubus Bonner
daughter Ruth Bonner, married for the second time to the first secretary of the Communist Party of Armenia Gevorg Alikhanyan , can be called " typical representative Institute of Jewish Wives". Her matrimonial adventures were very exciting, starting with the fact that she recaptured her husband from her friend with phone slander, then during the war her adventures continued on the hospital train, where she was the mistress of the head physician V. Dorfman, then there were other major officials. They say that it was the mother of the citizen Bonner who actively helped her daughter, who loved to live beautifully, in search of profitable boyfriends. After the events with her last lover - a major engineer Moses Zlotnik, who served as head of the production department of Glavkhimprom in the People's Commissariat of the Chemical Industry of the USSR, about the murder of his pregnant wife by him, when " Lucy B." was a witness during the investigation, she suddenly disappeared. But already in 1948, an affair began with a major business executive Yakov Kisselman, a wealthy man and, of course, very middle-aged. " Femme fatale"by this time she managed to enter the medical institute, where she simultaneously met with the young I. Kiselev, from whom she gave birth to children, continuing to cohabit with Kisselman .
It is characteristic that the “prominent human rights activist” already in the late 60s went to France from the “Iron Curtain of the USSR”. Immediately after this trip in 1970, she tightly clung to Academician Sakharov, who was focused on physics, but distinguished, to put it mildly, by a rare amateurishness in the socio-political sphere, “ implanting in him the Jewish will as an intellectual conscience". Bonner, in fact, was a succubus - not only replacing the widower of her own children with her own, who are still receiving dividends from her involvement in the name of Sakharov, but also completely controlled her henpecked husband. Starting from the words that he said in an interview, ending with meetings with his friends and finances. But God is their judge.
_______________
* page 75, "Moscow and Beyond" 1986 to 1989, Andrei Sakharov translated by Antonina Bouis, published in the United States by Alfred A. Knopf, Inc., 1990, ISBN 0-394-58797-9. Originally published in Russian as"Gorky, Moscow, then everywhere", 1990

** after reading Bonner's speech in Norway at the Oslo Freedom Forum congress, it becomes quite clear that the quotes from Sakharov on Israel belong to Bonner herself - "acting Sakharova", behind whom all this nonsense was repeated by a rag and henpecked ...

***BUT. Sakharov, "Memoirs" in two volumes, publishing house "Human Rights", Moscow, 1996

(materials used

Five years ago, in the summer of 2011, the legendary dissident Elena (Lusik) BONNER, wife of the great scientist Andrei Sakharov, passed away. Her father and stepfather were Armenians - Levon Kocharov and Gevork Alikhanov, she never hid her Armenian-Jewish origin.

We offer an excerpt from the books “Lessons of Spitak” and “The Karabakh Diary” by Zori Balayan, in which he recalls the stay of the spouses in Armenia, their attitude towards Karabakh conflict, as well as excerpts from the book of memoirs of the scientist "Gorky, Moscow, then everywhere." Elena Georgievna and Andrei Dmitrievich lived together for 18 years - they were inseparable. An inseparable pair of courageous and honest people...

Zori Balayan

HELICOPTER FLYING TO SPITAK

Five days before the earthquake, I published a full-page essay about Academician A.D. Sakharov in the newspaper Grakan Tert. I first met the “father of the Soviet hydrogen bomb” in 1970. I came to Sakharov from Kamchatka, where I then worked as a doctor. I am not going, of course, to retell the content of the essay, but I did not mention all of it either. I met with the academician more than once. He already had new apartment in the summer of eighty-eight. Called many times. He called me, his wife E.G. Bonner called. The time was more than hot. He kept promising that he would come to Yerevan. But then he firmly said that it would not work out before the New Year. A trip abroad is planned. And suddenly a call from Moscow to Galina Starovoitova: “Together with Sakharov we are flying to Baku. From there they intend to come not only to Yerevan, but also to Karabakh.”

For three days I traveled with the academician. I also visited Karabakh. They flew into the disaster zone. I hosted meetings of Sakharov and his associates with refugees from Azerbaijan in Yerevan and Stepanakert. But now I would like to briefly tell only about the trip to Spitak.

At ten in the morning, the Yak-40 took off from Stepanakert and headed for Leninakan. There, cars sent from the Academy of Sciences of the Republic were already waiting for us. By car, they were supposed to drive from Leninakan to Spitak, visit several villages and return to Yerevan in the evening. For the route, so it happened, I answered. One thing he clearly learned: “Bleeding from the nose - the next day Sakharov should be in Moscow. He has an important meeting there tonight.” Thirty minutes later, the pilots invited me into the cockpit and handed over, frankly, the bad news: “Leninakan does not accept. The pass is closed."

This is bad, - said Andrei Dmitrievich, when I informed him and his companions about the closed pass. Galya, who had appointments in Moscow, was also worried.

The fact is that there is no way I can return without visiting the area affected by the earthquake. And in Moscow they are waiting for me tomorrow.

We'll figure something out," I repeated.

Over the long years of my stay in Kamchatka, I learned to predict the weather by the smell of the air. And by the fresh smell of snow that covered the Erebuni airport, I knew that a blizzard would come in the evening. But the evening is still far away. Sakharov and five, as they say, those accompanying him, huddled forlornly at the Yak-40. No one, of course, met us, except for the head of the Erebuni transportation department. For those who were supposed to meet were already in Leninakan. Suddenly I noticed how a group of people fussing around the helicopter a hundred meters away from us.

Eureka! I shouted.

Have you already come up with something? - not without irony asked the academician.

Andrey Dmitrievich! Ask me: “What is that helicopter over there? Where is he going?

What is that helicopter? Where is he going? - the academician supported the game, shivering from the cold wind.

This helicopter flies to Spitak. He is carrying cargo to two villages. Food. Manufactured goods. And without delay will return to Yerevan. If you don't believe me, let's go and ask.

The crowd went to the helicopter, which, apparently, was about to take off. We got to the young pilot giving orders to the loaders, a person close to me, if not a friend. Stepa Nikoghosyan. I asked Andrey Dmitrievich to repeat the question he had put to me the other day. Imagine his surprise when Stepan repeated “my” answer word for word.

We agreed, - said the academician.

We agreed, - Elena Georgievna and Galya supported him.

They did not agree, but calculated. Leninakan is closed. This means that there is only one route left - the route passing between the four-headed mountain Aragats and the one-headed Ara. This route leads to Spitak. Since the helicopter takes the cargo, it means that they are transporting it to the nearest villages, because everyone and everything is transported to Spitak mainly by cars and even by railway. Something else is more important here. How can we become passengers? Not required by the instructions.

Did you promise to come up with something?

And I've already figured it out. We will now make a list in duplicate. We will leave one to the head of the transportation department, after showing him our tickets to Leninakan, we will leave the other list, as it should be, on board. We will not break the route. We will even help the pilots in some way. At least we'll help you unload.

What is the name of all this? Bonner asked.

All this is called rebuilding

yka. Does the commander of the ship agree with me? I asked.

I agree, said the commander.

I agree, - repeated the co-pilot Samvel Manvelyan.

I agree, - flight mechanic Ashot Babayan repeated to his comrades.

We soon settled down among the crates and sacks. And after the loud “From the screw!” rose into the air.

There was no one near the helicopter when the usual “From the propeller” was heard. The screws were slowly gaining momentum. The wind from them dispersed empty boxes, papers, snow dust across the field. I remembered the young mother of ten children. The words of her curse sounded in her ears. And lost consciousness. This happened to me for the first time. Then they told me that it was Elena Georgievna who brought me to my senses.

I felt bad. What is it? After all, it turns out that the people who are to blame good heart provide assistance. Those who have lost loved ones are to blame. Left homeless. Those who decided to stay in the village, although they were offered to leave for a while, get settled in boarding houses, in rest houses, until the village was restored. But they stayed. And suddenly this. Academician Sakharov reassured me. He justified them in his own way: “They will later share with each other what they took home. It was not so much the elements that made them angry as disorganization. And disorganization is much worse than looting.”

I understand that it is hard for everyone: the state, the people, the living and the dead. Burying tens of thousands of the dead - you have to go through it. Send one hundred and fifty thousand schoolchildren and their parents outside the republic - this must be organized. Sheltering six hundred thousand homeless people is not easy. But one gets the impression that in fifty-eight completely dead villages there are no people left at all, that in three hundred and forty-two dilapidated villages, residents sleep peacefully in dilapidated houses. At first, they didn't even remember them. The most amazing thing is that help is actually being provided. Help is real. Only Sakharov is right, there is not enough organization. One, just one sensible person for each village - and everything would be in order. Not many people are left in the villages. You can make a list. It is necessary to know specifically what not only the whole village needs, but also this or that family, this or that person. You can order whatever you need. Fortunately, everything you need is available in warehouses in Yerevan, in dozens of other cities. There would be a clear organization, you see, and there would be less talk about the problem of distribution.

The helicopter landed on a small open area of ​​Spitak, framed by ruins. The wasteland apparently served as a sports ground for the school until the seventh of December. There, probably ninety-seven days before the earthquake, on the first of September, the first-graders were lined up for their first line. Yes, there was a school near the wasteland. In the ruins, we counted more than a hundred schoolbags. Pioneer ties, books, notebooks. Andrei Dmitrievich bent down and picked up a thin blue notebook. With trembling hands, he leafed through it. Math notebook. Words and numbers are written in uneven handwriting and the score is “5” in red ink. The academician wiped away his tears with a handkerchief, after raising his glasses.

The time will come, and we will bite our elbows, - said Elena Georgievna. - So it was after the war. There would be a group of students from Yerevan to collect all these things, to systematize. Then it will be needed for the museum. We need to think now about Spitak's lessons for future generations.

A man in his thirties approached us. We got talking. We learned that his son died in this same school. Almost all the children died, he said. He invited me to his tent, where the surviving family members settled down. We were, as they say here, on the other side of the bridge that divides Spitak into two parts. There are many private houses here. And many children died in schools and preschool institutions. A man of small stature was walking towards us, seeing whom our companion said: “I am silent in front of this man. His three children and wife were killed. And now you can often see how he goes from his ruined house to the ruined school. On the same road that our children walked.”

Sakharov took off his glasses again. He wiped his eyes with a handkerchief.

“WHY DO YOU HATE THE AZERBAIJANIAN PEOPLE, ELENA GEORGIEVNA?”

May twenty-first, 1991. Birthday of Andrei Dmitrievich Sakharov. Seventy years. Delegations from all over the world came to Moscow for the First International Sakharov Congress. opening speech Elena Bonner said. On the presidium, in addition to world-famous scientists and public figures from abroad - President of the USSR M. Gorbachev. In the evening I went to Elena Georgievna on Chkalova Street. I rode and remembered her words spoken in a crowded hall. I didn't know then that they were handed over to the world in live. She spoke about the atrocities in Getashen and Martunashen, about the fires in the Hadrut region and the Berdadzor sub-region. About the deportation of twenty-four Armenian villages. In a word, about mass violations of human rights and, first of all, about the right to life. Her word thundered like a bomb, especially considering that it sounded in broad daylight to the whole world.

Elena Georgievna looked tired. There were many people at home. Diverse, multilingual. Steam from coffee, smoke from cigarettes, hum, hubbub. Having seized the moment, I told Elena Georgievna, whom I, like her other friends and close acquaintances, simply call Lyusya, that I must return home tomorrow, because the situation there is becoming completely critical.

It is not Azerbaijan that is fighting with us, but the Soviet army.

Don't you understand that with tomorrow sessions will be held in sections. And you're on a commission on massive human rights violations chaired by Baroness Caroline Cox. And you have to be there.

Yes, understand, Lucy, all this is not so important for us now. When Armenia and Azerbaijan are at war, this is a war. But when the Soviet army is at war with us with combat generals, combat helicopters, tanks, armored vehicles, regular units, this is already the result of our criminal policy.

Politics is made in Moscow. I must upset you.

Everything is much more complicated than you think. Today, during a break, before the start of the concert, I gave tea to the presidium, including Gorbachev and Raisa Maksimovna. The president's face was purple. I understood that the reason for this was my words about recent events in Karabakh. During tea, I told the story that you told me on the phone the day before. About the fate of the mother of three children, and even pregnant in the ninth month. And she kept looking into the faces of Gorbachev and Raisa Maksimovna. When I said that in front of a pregnant woman, three children and Soviet soldiers Azerbaijani riot police brutally killed her husband Anushavan Grigoryan, and then did not allow him to be buried for four days, Gorbachev's face changed. But his wife continued to drink tea. She took a bite of a cake and calmly asked: “Why do you hate the Azerbaijani people, Elena Georgievna?” Such is the reaction to the human tragedy.

I gasped in surprise. I reminded them of our trip with Andryusha to Baku, where Vezirov said that they don’t give land without blood. In short, tomorrow morning, let's go straight from the hotel to the Hammer Center. The Cox Commission will sit there.

Andrey SAKHAROV

“LAND DOES NOT GIVE. IT IS CONQUERED”

In Moscow, a group of scientists came to us with a draft resolution of the Armenian-Azerbaijani conflict in their hands. This, of course, is a strong word, but they really had interesting, although far from indisputable ideas. They are three employees of the Institute of Oriental Studies (Andrey Zubov and two more, whose names I do not remember). Together with them came Galina Starovoitova, an employee of the Institute of Ethnography, who has long been interested in interethnic problems. Zubov, unfolding the map, outlined the essence of the plan.

First stage: holding a referendum in the regions of Azerbaijan with a high percentage Armenian population and in areas of Armenia with a high percentage of the Azerbaijani population. The subject of the referendum: should your district (in some cases, the village council) go to another republic or remain within the boundaries of this republic. The authors of the project assumed that approximately equal territories with approximately equal population would have to pass into the subordination of Armenia from Azerbaijan and into the subordination of Azerbaijan from Armenia. They also assumed that the very announcement of this project and the discussion of its details would turn people's minds from confrontation to dialogue, and that in the future conditions would be created for more calm interethnic relations. At the same time, they considered it necessary at the intermediate stages to have special troops in troubled areas to prevent outbreaks of violence. From Azerbaijan to Armenia, according to their estimates, the region of Nagorno-Karabakh, in particular, should have moved away, with the exception of the Shusha region, populated by Azerbaijanis, and the Shahumyan region, predominantly populated by Armenians. The project seemed interesting to me, deserving of discussion. The next day, I called A.N. Yakovlev, said that they brought me the project, and asked for a meeting to discuss it. The meeting took place a few hours later on the same day in Yakovlev's office. The evening before, I had prepared a short summary of a rather plump and scientific text of the project of three authors. It was my resume that I first gave Yakovlev to read. He said that as a material for discussion the document is interesting, but certainly, given the current extremely tense national relations, it is completely unrealizable. “It would be useful for you to go to Baku and Yerevan, look at the situation on the spot ...” At this time, the phone rang. Yakovlev picked up the phone and asked me to go to the secretary. After 10-15 minutes, he asked me to return to the office and said that he had spoken with Mikhail Sergeyevich - he, like him, believes that any territorial changes are now impossible. Mikhail Sergeevich, independently of him, expressed the idea that it would be useful if I went to Baku and Yerevan. I said that I would like to have my wife as a member of the delegation, I will agree on the rest of the names. If business trips are arranged for us, we could leave very quickly.

The group, which was to travel to Azerbaijan and Armenia, included Andrey Zubov, Galina Starovoitova and Leonid Batkin from Tribuna, Lyusya and myself. The meeting with Yakovlev took place on Monday. On Tuesday, we arranged business trips and received tickets at the box office of the Central Committee, and in the evening of the same day (or maybe the next?) We flew to Baku.

We were placed almost the only guests in a large, obviously privileged hotel. We dined in a newly decorated, sparkling golden hall (the subsequent meals also took place there, all for free - at the expense of the academy). The next day - a meeting with representatives of the Academy, the scientific community and the intelligentsia. She made a depressing impression on us. One after another, academicians and writers spoke, verbosely speaking either sentimentally or aggressively about the friendship of peoples and its value, that there is no problem of Nagorno-Karabakh, but there is an original Azerbaijani territory, the problem was invented by Aganbegyan and Balayan and picked up by extremists, now , after the July meeting of the Presidium of the Supreme Council, all past mistakes have been corrected and for complete peace of mind it is only necessary to imprison Poghosyan (the new first secretary of the regional committee of the CPSU of Nagorno-Karabakh). The audience did not want to listen to Batkin and Zubov, who talked about the referendum project, they interrupted. Academician Buniyatov behaved especially aggressively both in his own speech and during the speeches of Batkin and Zubov. (Buniyatov is a historian, participant in the war, Hero of the Soviet Union, known for anti-Armenian nationalist speeches; after the meeting, he published an article with sharp attacks on Lyusya and me.) Buniyatov, speaking about the Sumgayit events, tried to portray them as a provocation by Armenian extremists and businessmen of the shadow economy in order to exacerbate the situation. At the same time, he demagogically played up the participation in the Sumgayit atrocities of some person with an Armenian surname. During Batkin's speech, Buniyatov interrupted him in a sharply insulting, dismissive manner. I objected to him, pointing out that we were all equal members of the delegation sent by the Central Committee to discuss and study the situation. Lucy supported me energetically. Buniyatov lashed out at her and Starovoitova, shouting that "you were brought here to take notes, so sit and write without getting into the conversation." Lucy could not stand it and answered him even more sharply, something like “Shut up - I pulled hundreds like you out from under the fire.” Buniyatov turned pale. He was publicly insulted by a woman. I do not know what opportunities and obligations to act in this case have oriental man. Buniyatov turned sharply and, without uttering a word, left the hall. Then, in the smoking room, he already said to Lucy with some respect: “Although you are an Armenian, you must understand that you are still wrong.” Of course, there could be no sympathetic attitude to the project of Zubov and others in this audience, no attitude at all, the existence of a problem was simply denied.

On the same day, there was a no less tense meeting with Azerbaijani refugees from Armenia. We were led to a large hall where several hundred Azerbaijanis were sitting - men and women of a peasant type. The speakers, of course, were specially selected people. They told, one after another, about the horrors and cruelties they were subjected to during the exile, about the beatings of adults and children, the burning of houses, the loss of property. Some were completely hysterical, whipping up a dangerous hysteria in the audience. I remember a young woman who screamed how the Armenians cut children to pieces, and ended with a triumphant cry: “Allah punished them” (about the earthquake! We knew that the news of the earthquake caused a surge of joy among many in Azerbaijan, even supposedly a folk festival took place in Absheron with fireworks).

In the evening, two Azerbaijanis came to our hotel, who were described to us as representatives of the progressive wing of the Azerbaijani intelligentsia, who did not have the opportunity to speak at the morning meeting, and future major party leaders of the republic. The personal position of our guests on acute national problems was somewhat different from that of Buniyatov, but not as radically as we would like. In any case, they considered Nagorno-Karabakh to be primordially Azerbaijani land and spoke with admiration about the girls who threw themselves under tanks shouting: “We will die, but we will not give up Karabakh!” The next day we arranged a meeting with Vezirov, First Secretary of the Republican Committee of the CPSU. Vezirov spoke for most of the meeting. It was some performance in oriental style. Vezirov acted, played with his voice and facial expressions, gesticulated. The essence of his speech boiled down to what efforts he is making to strengthen interethnic relations and what successes have been achieved in the short time that he has been in office. Refugees - Armenians and Azerbaijanis - already in their majority want to go back. (This completely contradicted what we heard from the Azerbaijanis and, soon, from the Armenians. In fact, the problems of the unacceptable forced return of refugees, their employment and housing continue to be very acute until now - written in July 1989)

Vezirov ordered to provide us with plane tickets, and soon we arrived in Yerevan. Formally, we had a program there similar to the Azerbaijani one - the academy, refugees, the first secretary. But in reality, all life in Yerevan passed under the sign of a terrible misfortune. Already at the hotel, all business travelers were directly or indirectly connected with the earthquake. Only the day before Ryzhkov left - he led the government commission and left a good memory behind him. Nevertheless, as we soon understood, in the initial period after the earthquake, many organizational and other mistakes were made, which were very costly. Of course, Ryzhkov is not the only one to blame. One of the problems that I had to get into to some extent was what to do with the Armenian NPP? Fear of a nuclear power plant accident greatly increased this stress, and it was absolutely necessary to eliminate it. In the lobby of the hotel we met Keilis-Borok, whom I already knew from discussions about the possibility of causing an earthquake at the right time using an underground nuclear explosion(2 months before that, I went to a conference in Leningrad, where this issue was discussed). Keilis-Borok was in a hurry on some business, but nevertheless briefly explained to me the seismological situation both in the north of Armenia, where there is one latitudinal fault, at the intersection of which Spitak is located with another longitude fault, and in the south, where another latitudinal fault passes not far from the nuclear power plant and Yerevan. Honestly, you have to be crazy to build a nuclear power plant in such a place! But this is far from the only madness of the department responsible for Chernobyl. The question of the construction of the Crimean nuclear power plant has not yet been resolved. In the office of the President of the Armenian Academy of Sciences Ambartsumyan, I continued talking about nuclear power plants with the participation of Velikhov and Academician Laverov. Lucy was present during the conversation. Velikhov said: “When the nuclear power plant is shut down, the power plant in Hrazdan will play a decisive role. But there is also a seismic region, and an earthquake is possible with the station out of order.” Lucy asked: “How long will it take to restart the shutdown nuclear power plant reactors in this case?” Velikhov and Laverov looked at her like she was crazy. Meanwhile, her question was not meaningless. In acute situations, the boundaries of what is permitted are revised - Lucy knew this from her military experience.

At this time, we - Zubov, Lucy and I - met with refugees. Their stories were terrible. I especially remember the story of a Russian woman, whose husband is an Armenian, about the events in Sumgayit. The problems of the refugees were similar to those of the Azerbaijanis. The next day I met with the first secretary of the Central Committee of Armenia, S. Harutyunyan. He did not discuss the project. The conversation was about refugees, about the fact that some were supposedly ready to return (I denied this), about the difficulties of organizing their life in the republic after the earthquake. I raised the issue of nuclear power plants. I also (either when I returned to Moscow, or, on the contrary, before the trip - I don’t remember) called Academician A.P. Alexandrov and asked me to take into account my opinion on the need to stop it when deciding on the issue of the Armenian Nuclear Power Plant. At the conversation with Harutyunyan, it was only me, without Lucy and others. At about 12 noon, all five of us flew to Stepanakert (Nagorno-Karabakh), we were also joined by Yuri Rost (photojournalist for Literaturnaya Gazeta, with whom a good relationship) and Zori Balayan (journalist, one of the initiators of posing the problem of Nagorno-Karabakh).

In Stepanakert, we were met at the gangway of the plane by Genrikh Poghosyan, the first secretary of the regional committee of the CPSU (Azerbaijan academicians wanted to arrest him), a man of medium height, with a very lively swarthy face. By car, he took us to the building of the regional committee, where we met with Arkady Ivanovich Volsky, at that time authorized by the Central Committee of the CPSU for the NKAR (after January - chairman of the Special Administration Committee). Volsky spoke briefly about the situation in the NKAO. He said: “Two big mistakes were made in the 1920s - the creation of the Nakhichevan and Nagorno-Karabakh Autonomous national regions and their subjugation to Azerbaijan.

Before leaving for Shusha, Volsky asked Lyusya and me if we would not refuse this trip: “It’s restless there.” We, of course, did not refuse. Volsky got into the same car with us, the three of us sat in the back seat, and next to the driver was an armed guard. Batkin and Zubov went in another car, also with guards; Volsky did not take Starovoitova and Balayan as too “odious”. When we were leaving, a group of excited Azerbaijanis crowded near the building of the district committee. Volsky got out of the car, said a few words, and apparently managed to calm the people down. During the meeting itself, Volsky skillfully directed the conversation and restrained passions, sometimes reminding the Azerbaijanis that they were not without sin (for example, he recalled how women beat one Armenian woman with sticks, but this case was not given a move; there was also a terrible story, how boys 10-12 years tortured with electric current in the hospital of their peer of another nationality and how he jumped out the window). Lusya at the beginning of the meeting said: “I want there to be no ambiguities, to say who I am. I am the wife of Academician Sakharov. My mother is Jewish, my father is Armenian” (noise in the hall; then one Azerbaijani woman said to Luce: “You are a brave woman”).