Soviet Union: Agents of Intimidation

By JAMES CARNEY/VILNIUS

Protected by a sandbag bunker, Anatoli Seryak peers down the barrel of his rifle, scanning passing cars in the Lithuanian capital of Vilnius for drive-by snipers. He is one of two men on forward sentry duty for OMON, a paramilitary unit of the Soviet Interior Ministry. Nearby, an armored personnel carrier stands guard in front of the unit's fortified headquarters. Two more sentries pace the roof. "If they try anything, there won't be a problem," says Seryak, 33, his trademark black beret tilted high on his forehead. "We're always ready to fight."

The OMON base was the Lithuanian police academy until soldiers loyal to Moscow took it by force in January. Now the building looks like a command post in a war zone, and those who inhabit it view themselves as besieged defenders of the Soviet empire. In its unofficial role as armed protector of the republic's non-Lithuanian minorities, many of whom fear Baltic independence, the OMON unit has become a kind of partisan brigade determined to prevent Lithuania's secession at all costs. "We are drawn together by our attitude to the future of Lithuania and the Soviet Union," says Major Boleslav Makutinovich, commander of the unit. "When others talk to us of independence, we say people are only independent in the graveyard."

To a majority of Lithuanians, though, Seryak and his colleagues are not hero-protectors but agents of repression. One newspaper has dubbed them "angels of death in black berets." Ever since Soviet army paratroopers stormed the television tower in Vilnius in January, killing 15 unarmed civilian demonstrators, OMON has been waging a campaign of intimidation against the democratically elected leadership of the republic. The same is true in neighboring Latvia, where Black Berets raided the republic's interior ministry in Riga, leaving five people dead. In their zeal to enforce the Soviet constitution and the presidential decrees of Mikhail Gorbachev, OMON forces have subsequently carried out a series of surprise attacks, seizing buildings, ransacking customs posts and, on several occasions, shooting at people who got in their way.

The first OMON (standing for Special Assignment Militia Detachment) unit was created in 1987 to fight the rise in organized crime across the country. The following year, it took on the task of policing large demonstrations, ostensibly to provide riot control. Today there are 35 OMON units in the U.S.S.R., representing a total force of about 10,000 men, all of them answering to local authorities. The exceptions are the units in Lithuania and Latvia, which are supposedly commanded directly by Moscow as well as by the Soviet Interior Ministry forces stationed in the Baltics.

The Kremlin has frequently denied authorizing violent or disruptive OMON operations, fueling speculation that OMON units are really taking orders from Communist Party hard-liners and secret conservative groups in the Baltics. When Black Berets seized the Lithuanian telephone exchange in early July, cutting off external communications for more than two hours, Gorbachev's spokesman suggested that "someone was trying to spoil" the Soviet President's visit to London for the G-7 summit. Accepting responsibility, Makutinovich said the operation was aimed at the confiscation of illegally held weapons. In a sign of official displeasure, the major was promptly summoned to Moscow for a conference with his superiors. But he is now back at his post.

Inside OMON headquarters, Makutinovich's men go on preparing for a showdown. Some train in hand-to-hand combat and martial arts while others nap in cots, their black berets hanging from posts at their feet. They call each other by nicknames drawn from American action and horror movies: Rambo, Ninja, Krueger. Lieut. Vitali Belkin, commander of one of the five squads that make up the 150-strong unit, says the struggle with the Lithuanian government has already passed the point of compromise. "I don't doubt there will be bloodshed," he says. "Civil war is inevitable."

After a winter of violent confrontation, the atmosphere had begun to calm as spring turned into summer. Then, on July 31, eight Lithuanians manning a customs post on the border with Belorussia were shot in the head. Seven died; the eighth is still fighting for his life in a hospital. The Lithuanian government immediately blamed the Black Berets, who have been accused of attacking and burning down more than 20 Baltic customs posts this year. In a law passed last March, the Soviet parliament banned the establishment of independent border posts, making them convenient targets in OMON's campaign to enforce Soviet law.

The executions near the village of Medininkai did not bear the stamp of a Black Beret operation; in previous assaults on customs posts, OMON units had been accused of roughing up people but never of killing anyone. Makutinovich, as well as Soviet Interior Minister Boris Pugo, quickly condemned the massacre and denied responsibility. After a preliminary investigation, a reform group within the Soviet army suggested that the KGB had done the actual killing, - albeit with the complicity of OMON commanders. The KGB denied involvement.

In the wake of the murders, Lithuanians staged a three-day demonstration, pitching tents in a field next to the Vilnius OMON base and demanding that the unit either disband or leave the republic. Dressed in fatigues and cradling automatic weapons, the Black Berets mocked the protesters. One of their own signs near the barbed wire separating the demonstration site from the OMON base read, THE SOVIET ARMY AND OMON: THE LAST DEFENDERS OF NATIONAL MINORITIES IN LITHUANIA.

Though most of the Black Berets in Vilnius are Russian, Belorussian or Polish, almost all were born in Lithuania or in a neighboring Baltic state. They have homes and families on Lithuanian soil, giving them a personal stake in preventing the republic's secession from the union. Nor do all Lithuanians despise OMON. A handful actually serve as Black Berets themselves to block secession. One 25-year-old named Vitas says he wants nothing to do with independence. "The Soviet Union is the world I was born in and the world I grew up in," he explains. "It's the only world I know, and I will defend it to the end."

Independence-minded Lithuanians fear that the Kremlin, paralyzed by its own political battles, has lost control of the Black Berets. Some Soviet officials say that Gorbachev is pressuring the Interior Ministry to rein in or disband the Baltic OMON units. "There are certain ((Communist)) Party circles controlling OMON in the Baltics and in Moscow," claims one official. They have warned the Black Berets to keep a lower profile, he says, but still "to gather information and recruit agents" in preparation for a future "battle."

The field units show little patience for the conflicting signals from the center. Says Lieut. Belkin: "In Moscow they sit in armchairs all day. They don't understand what's going on here, and they don't want to." The Black Berets in Vilnius boast that they have enough support in Lithuania to fight on without Soviet help. Says Belkin: "If Moscow cuts support, we will continue on our own. We are preparing for victory."

The use of violence and intimidation by those trying to perpetuate Soviet control over the Baltics continues to undermine Gorbachev's credibility as the Soviet President presses forward with democratic reform. Though he still clings to the notion that he can persuade the Balts to join a new union, Gorbachev has pledged to the West that he will make his case peacefully. That leaves the Black Berets unsure of their future. Already they complain of Moscow's betrayal. But the real test will come if Gorbachev does order the OMON units in the Baltics to disband. If they refuse, the Black Berets will become true renegades -- heroes to some, villains to many others -- fighting to preserve the past.