There is one word that comes to mind when watching the drama surrounding the Mikhail Khodorkovsky verdict and sentence today of 13.5 years in prison. Perhaps tellingly, it is a Russian word: naglost'. English simply doesn't have one word that packs into so few letters all that naglost' means: arrogance, contemptuous malice, obnoxiousness, brazenness, insolence, impudence, and sheer nerve. Google Translate suggests no fewer than 22 synonyms, none of which captures the fullness of the word as well as the Russian government has embodied it in this case.
There was, for instance, the postponement. The verdict was supposed to be read on the morning of Dec. 15. Camera crews, journalists, and a crowd of Khodorkovsky supporters showed up at the courthouse to find a piece of paper taped to the courtroom door. The verdict would now be read on Dec. 27, it read, when the world -- and foreign journalists -- would be on holiday. No one had bothered to alert Khodorkovsky's legal team. When asked for an explanation, the court spokeswoman snapped, "The court does not explain itself."
When the court reconvened on Dec. 27, just before the reading of the verdict could commence, Judge Viktor Danilkin called a 15-minute recess. After it was over, he simply didn't let the journalists back in. Then he shut off the simulcast of the proceedings and kicked Khodorkovsky's wife and daughter out of the room.
And just when one thought the naglost' had surely peaked, the court -- and, by extension, the Russian government -- showed how much farther they could go. In October, the prosecution had cut the volume of oil allegedly stolen by Khodorkovsky from 350 million tons to 218 million, citing a lack of evidence and arithmetical error. But on Dec. 29, Judge Danilkin found Khodorkovsky and his partner Platon Lebedev guilty of stealing -- that's right -- 350 million tons of oil. The judge overrode the prosecution, apparently deciding that it was not being prosecutorial enough.
And there's more: On the second day of monotonous reading (the verdict is some 250 pages, most of which simply recapitulates the trial and all of which has to be read aloud), Danilkin challenged the testimonies of German Gref, the minister of economics and trade from 2000 to 2007, and of Viktor Khristenko, minister of industry. Both had reluctantly testified on Khodorkovsky's behalf this summer, but Danilkin said that their testimony merely proved Khodorkovsky's guilt. What had they said in court? Gref testified that had 350 million tons of oil been stolen under his watch, he surely would have noticed -- and he didn't notice any such theft. Khristenko, for his part, explained why it is impossible to accuse Yukos (Khodorkovsky's oil company) of stealing oil at all. But Danilkin seemed to think that it was, in fact, very possible, and reminded everyone of a crucial detail that, in his view, mortally compromised the two high-level government officials: They had been subpoenaed by the defense. And the defense, let's recall, is not anything the Russian judiciary takes seriously, even when trying to imitate a fair trial.
On Dec. 30, the third day of the reading, Danilkin accused Khodorkovsky and Lebedev of withholding dividends from shareholders -- which, he said, "hurt their feelings" -- even though the day before he had found the two former oil executives guilty of bribing board members and shareholders so they would participate in Khodorkovsky's plot to steal 218 million -- wait, no, 350 million tons of oil. How did he bribe them? He paid them dividends.
One could go further and expose more reasoning such as this, reasoning one could call circular if that circle didn't instantly collapse on itself. It seems a pointless exercise, however, when the charges themselves are completely nonsensical: Khodorkovsky has just been convicted and sentenced for stealing all the oil his company ever produced, after having been convicted and sentenced in 2005 for not paying taxes on all the oil his company ever produced.