By Oleg Kusov

For four days in December 2004, members of the police force carried out a so-called special operation in the city of Blagoveshchensk and neighboring settlements in the Russian republic of Bashkortostan. Hundreds of people, mainly young men, were rounded up without cause and then beaten with impunity.

According to official data, 334 people were beaten and mutilated in the Blagoveshchensk raids.

Covering the incidents, "Novaya gazeta" wrote: "This small Bashkir town was the scene of a violent raid. According to activists' data, about a thousand people were detained; many of them were beaten by members of the Ufa OMON [special police unit]. The city lives in fear. Many victims, fearful of consequences, have not reported the police brutality."

Media attention to the events in Blagoveshchensk was enormous. The small town, a half-hour drive away from the capital of the republic, Ufa, was visited by representatives of many significant international and Russian organizations and publications.

Victims like Blagoveshchensk resident Taisia Zelenenko, however, say they remember Anna Politkovskaya, who traveled to Blagoveshchensk to cover the story for "Novaya gazeta," with particular gratitude.

"There were many journalists, but of course, we remember her," Zelenenko says. "First, she was so frank. We talked about her family. It was casual. We didn't even think that such a big person was with us. We knew that she occupied some special place, that the government was a little afraid of her, of course. We knew that. But only later on did we really understand what kind of a person was with us."

More Than Just Another Journalist

Blagoveshchensk journalist Oksana Aseyeva was called upon to help Politkovskaya gather materials, but soon saw that Anna found many more facts about the tragic event than the local journalists did. "When I read Anna Politkovskaya's publications, I found things that we hadn't discovered here ourselves," she says. "She carried out her own independent investigation."

Blagoveshchensk resident Galina Bobrova's son was severly beaten during the police raid. During those days, it was difficult for her to speak to the press, but Politkovskaya helped.

"She wasn't a journalist for me. The funny thing is I haven't even read the articles. She wasn't published here. It was forbidden. Even now there mostly aren't any," Bobrova says.

"She appeared to me at a point when I had a feeling of hopelessness. My soul was in such a state that if someone came and put a glass of poison in front of me, I would have drunk it," she says. "We just talked. We never met again. I understood that I had to live, had to live under any circumstances."

Bashkortostan's government had an entirely different attitude toward the arrival of the "Novaya gazeta" correspondent. Blagoveshchensk journalist Veronika Shakhova remembers that Politkovskaya was constantly spied on by some people in a car with tinted windows. "She was calm about this. Maybe there was some pressure inside, but she made jokes and spoke ironically about it," she says.

"Once, as it happened, she went to a neighboring district and our co-worker accompanied her to her car. Right away another car began to follow her. When she got back, she said, 'Why did I spend money on the taxi? What's the difference, they were following me anyway, they could have invited me like gentlemen and given me a lift,'" Shakhova says. "So she had a healthy, humorous outlook, even if something inside her was under pressure."

Personal Contacts

Almost everyone with whom Politkovskaya spoke during her trip to Blagoveshchensk notes her special manner of conducting a conversation.

"It turned out that over 2 1/2 hours, she posed to me maybe two or three questions. And I managed, despite being a relatively private person, to tell her not just about my whole life, but also about the life of the small provincial town," Galina Bobrova recalls. "I had a feeling, after I already left, the feeling that I was at a confession with someone to whom I could tell everything."

Veronika Shakhova is convinced that Politkovskaya was much more than just a journalist. "Her private convictions made her a civil-rights activist. Civil rights are something sacred. She was ready to go help wherever, whenever," she says.

"I was fired from my job at the newspaper," Shakhova adds. "It was already considerably late. She called. She was actually quite upset: 'Veronika, I heard what happened. Let me come. I'll get tickets, I'll come, I'll just support you. When something like this happens, we need to do something.' She didn't even have to ask. I think that she always lived only for other people. That's exactly it -- not for herself, but for other people."

Shakhova was made to understand that she was fired from the local newspaper not just because of her writing about the beatings of the residents of Blagoveshchensk, but also because of her collaboration with Anna Politkovskaya.