In August 1991, I was working as a correspondent with a Spanish newspaper, El Periódico de Catalunya. On the morning of August 19, there was a buzz going around among all the reporters, who were puzzling over the strange TASS statement about the “emergency regime” that had been imposed in the Soviet Union. All we could gather from it was that Gorbachev was too ill to run the country. Naturally, in Gorbachev’s absence, all attention shifted to Yeltsin, who was without doubt the most prominent figure in the opposition.
We realized how much depended on him and awaited his response to this emergency regime and to the actions of the GKChP in general. Naturally, Yeltsin kept quiet for a while. Only Radio Ekho Moskvy, with their harsh criticism of the “emergency committee,” voiced the idea that their actions were unlikely to generate any positive results because these people were the most vehement opponents of Perestroika and democracy. Everyone was waiting for what would happen next.
I was very surprised when our small bureau received a call from a man from the Foreign Ministry’s press office inviting us to a news conference where a very important statement was about to be made.
At first I thought the call was a mistake, since they usually only invited big media companies to such events, while we were simply reporters from perhaps the third or fourth largest Spanish paper. Still, I went to the Foreign Ministry. The city was quiet and calm, the only sign of any activity being a small armored vehicle parked outside the building.
Reporters and camera men crowded the main conference room, grabbing their only opportunity to learn what had happened. I was standing a short distance from the main crowd when a Foreign Ministry official approached me and asked what media outlet I was from and whether I had any questions. When I said that I didn’t, he took me by the hand and escorted me into the room. I found out later that representatives from the most important media outlets were told that there were no more seats available, and were moved to a different room where they could watch the conference on a giant screen but could not participate. The main room was filled with reporters, most of them from the Russian media, and ministry officials. Everybody heard the same statement about Gorbachev's illness and the introduction of an emergency regime in the country.
There were a few feeble questions about Gorbachev's health, and how soon he was likely to return. There was no further clarification until an Italian journalist from Corriere della Serra asked the question that became decisive. He said that in order to impose an emergency regime, the constitution required a decree from President Gorbachev, who was not available, and a resolution from the Supreme Soviet, which no longer existed; where, then, did the emergency committee derive its legitimacy?
I also remember a funny blunder by a reporter who was evidently quite nervous, and instead of inquiring after Gorbachev’s health, asked “How are you feeling?”
There were some jibes aimed at Vasily Starodubtsev, whose position as head of the Collective Farms Council was relatively insignificant compared to the other committee members, many of them military or security ministers. An Izvestia reporter asked him: “And who are you? Who invited you here?” Everyone laughed.
Indeed, the main statement did not make the situation any clearer, because nothing they said really made much sense. And then Tatyana Malkina from Nezavisimaya Gazeta stood – so young then, and so beautiful in her modest suit – and asked directly: “Do you realize that what you are doing is a coup d’état?” It was the first time the term was used, and it finally made things a lot clearer.
Reporters asked more questions after that, some of which even had an edge to them: “Have you consulted with Pinochet about this?” But none of them stood out against the shining backdrop of what Malkina had said.
We began writing reports for our offices in Barcelona and Madrid, although there was a great deal that remained a mystery until Yeltsin came forward and announced that the GKChP were “usurpers,” that the opposition did not recognize their legitimacy and would fight them.
As journalists, we had a very difficult time writing our pieces, because a military coup implies that the military have the situation under control. But this was not the case. Children and youngsters calmly strolled by the tanks, smoking, and no one seemed scared. Later people started to say that the tanks didn't even have the gasoline in them to return to their bases, that they had no ammunition, only blank shells, and that they were simply heaps of worthless metal.
Then they imposed a state of emergency and issued a curfew after 10:00 p.m. Being foreign journalists, we took this very seriously. As far as we were concerned, a curfew was a very serious measure. Elsewhere, people who violate a curfew are arrested or shot without warning. But in Moscow, people were out and about at eight o'clock, at nine o’clock, and later, as if Soviet people didn’t understand what a curfew is about, or if they did understand, they didn't care.
On the one hand, the country was in a state of emergency, with the military patrolling the streets, and on the other, it felt like nothing special was happening. People gathered outside the government building that night, and we reported on it. Gradually, we began to understand that the military didn’t want to interfere, and would not attack the people under any circumstances. If the higher-ups were debating their various options, no word of this trickled down to the soldiers in the ranks.
Then it all came to a head in the early hours of August 21, when three young men from Moscow were shot and killed on Arbat Street.
If you are looking back in summary, on August 19, 1991 Russia was rocked by a coup which in its scale and consequences remains unparalleled in the world.
It was also the most controversial coup – terrible and a little funny at the same time. Of course, it's good that no serious military action broke out, leading to scores upon scores of casualties -- just those three boys that were killed 20 years ago in the center of Moscow.
