Russians rage against local authorities

AFP, Beslan
A woman cries in the ruins of the school gymnasium in Beslan, North Ossetia yesterday. The first funerals for the hundreds of hostages killed in the Russian school in Beslan took place yesterday. Some 400 people were killed as a result of the three-day school siege in southern Russia. PHOTO: AFP
There is undisguised fury against the police, the local authorities and special forces in the grieving Russian town of Beslan, where inhabitants blame them for the tragic end to the hostage siege.

"It's the president of Ossetia (the local region) who is to blame, he must pay for what he has done," says Timur, 30. "The terrorists for three days asked him to come and he always backed out. Look, he was elected to assume his responsibilities."

Next to Timur, a dignified-looking older gentleman in a felt hat echoes the feeling of many in a town which will now forever be associated with the bloodiest hostage crisis in Russia's history.

"It's the soldiers, the police, the special forces, the entire corrupt clique, incapable of fighting and reacting, it's they who have killed our children," he said, staring at the wall of the school of gymnasium where the hostages were held, now pock-marked with bullets.

The day after the siege ended with some 338 dead -- about half of them children -- families were still gathered in front of the House of Culture, the municipal building that became the focal point of their lives during the three-day drama.

Every time an Ossetian official appeared, the crowd pressed forward and demanded explanations that he simply cannot provide. "You have been lying from the start, why should we believe you today," yelled one woman, tears in her eyes.

Sometimes insults are shouted, above all by men. "These were children, our children, why was nothing ready, where were the ambulances that we were promised?" asked one. At the start of the siege, no such vehicle was visible neat the school.

When regional government spokesman Lev Dzugayev appeared for his regular briefing of journalists, the relatives forced him to give lengthy explanations over decisions the crisis cell made.

"I insist on speaking to you in person. Your ministers need to answer for the death of my son," said a woman. Another asked if it is true that "it was the Ingush who renovated the school before the start of term" and are alleged to have planted explosives in advance.

Every one of Beslan's residents have their own versions of what happened at 1:00 pm on Friday, when the situation changed in an instant from one of mounting tension to raging anarchy and abject horror.

For a former soldier slumped by a tree, staring at the school, "our helicopters fired on the roof of the school by mistake, and this was what made it cave in."

He added: "It was only when we saw the first hostages coming out that the armed forces went in. We shouldn't have just let it happen, they should have gone straight away to save the children," he said.

Mira had another theory. "My neighbour was a witness. After the explosions went off, the terrorists started to shoot at the children, and that is why our menfolk went on the attack. The Russian soldiers only arrived afterwards, we did not know who was shooting at whom."

Putin's emotional pre-dawn visit here left many people cold, along with his grave evening address on Russian television, that most did not bother to watch.

"What's the Kremlin supposed to do inside there, Putin isn't controlling anything here? What do you expect him to do?" asked Artium.

"In the end this is the business of the Caucasus. Something must be done, starting with building a wall to protect the Ossetians from the Ingush and the Chechens. Then we've got to pay back these terrorist bastards."