Is not it lovely? The interdepartmental commission has granted the status of combatants to 27 Donetsk prosecutors. The list of "heroes" includes the prosecutor of Donetsk region with the name that speaks for itself – Nikolay Frantovskiy – and his first deputy Alexander Livochka. They are followed by 25 prosecutors of Donetsk regional prosecutor's office, all without exception veterans, almost "cyborgs" from Donetsk airport.
"27 Donetsk prosecutors" sounds almost like "26 Baku commissars" as we were swotting it in the Soviet schools. However, they have nothing else in common. Baku commissars were beheaded for the surrender of Baku to Azerbaijani troops (the sentence was executed by a local Turkmen executioner). Meanwhile, our heroes sit in their offices with their heads untouched.
They have everything in place except conscience.
"And what about the public?" you may ask. Well, the public is indignant, of course. "I think that prosecutors of Lugansk region will go next followed by the judges of Donetsk and Lugansk regions, officers of police, Security Service, Ministry of Emergency, and so on and so forth if they are not stopped," the Chairman of the Kiev Union of ATO combatants and a member of the Interdepartmental Commission Andrey Mamalyga noted sarcastically.
There is hubbub in social networks, too, "Bastards, Judas, cowards! All must be imprisoned!" ordinary Ukrainians shout. Sometimes they add in perplexity, "How comes: there was Maidan, and the society has united - where do such bastards come from? It seems that they are sent to us from Russia."
I must reassure you, dear friends: moneybags in the uniforms of prosecutors is quite a Ukrainian phenomenon. More specifically, a post-Soviet phenomenon because the situation is about the same in Russia and Belarus. The dictates of the state is more rigid there, but this rigidity affects political opponents and does not concern welfare of the prosecutor's caste.
"Is not he insane - so much gold!" Ukrainian TV viewers were outraged this spring when the magnificent picture of the interior of ex-Prosecutor General Pshonka appeared on the screen. At the same time, I heard the same story in several families: a little boy was asked who he wants to become. The boy put his arms akimbo and answered with an important look, "A prosecutor". The adults laughed and said: look, he is so small and so smart already!
Well, people say that laughter prolongs life. Though I think that one must cry rather than laugh here. It was announced that we were heading for Europe, and people defended this right on the Maidan – and we are still living under the law of Soviet string-pulling and the principle described by the playwright Ostrovsky, "We are in the same boat – we will settle up one day." In the morning, we mourn in the European way over the murdered journalists of "Charlie Hebdo," an attack at the freedom of speech, and in the evening we talk on the phone:
- Natalya Stepanovna! How do you do? Well, it is great. How is your Dima, is he satisfied with his studies? No, do not mention it, I was happy to help. Natalya Stepanovna, can you help me? My Larisa does not feel well, can the head of your department examine her? Thank you! It would be great if she could go without the queue...
Is such a conversation possible in Germany? France? Norway? Would Dima have chances to enter the University of Bologna the way he entered a university here? And how long would Natalya Stepanovna have worked if she were employed in a hospital in Zurich?
So you should not grit your teeth and curse "those bastards that have become impudent." A prosecutor is not born in a uniform and with insignia. Year after year, he lives in the Ukrainian society, absorbing the existing hostel rules, and when he is bribed for the first time, he already knows how much he should take and what for.
Not only prosecutors act this way, but also deans, head doctors, heads of canteens, passport offices and military commissions. Ministers and deputy ministers – do you remember the recent story of the Deputy Minister of Regional Development Isaenko? Many of my friends were inspired with the story how this official was forced to write a disavowal and resign. But did this case become one of the many examples of all-Ukrainian practice?
"Ivan Ivanovich is a respected man," it is said about such people in our society. Their prosperity is envied, and their connections are admired. Of course, individual cases of abuse may cause resentment, but would many of us resent if their children became "Ivan Ivanovich"? And if we speak honestly: how many of us would have rebelled against "the story with prosecutors" if one of the 27 Donetsk prosecutors were our relative?
Several years ago, during the late Yushchenko’s presidency, I asked one of high-ranking prosecutors: why, unlike his friends, did not he go on summer vacations to Nice or Monte Carlo, but preferred a departmental sanatorium let us name it "Sea Song"?
"Well," the prosecutor replied, smiling into his moustache, "who knows me in Nice? And here... everybody knows me here..."