As the persecution of Christians increases across the world, it is good to remember that God can speak to the persecutors
Sergei Kourdakov and his friends were naval cadets used by the Russian police in the late 1960s to attack Christians (religiozniks) who met in secret in the old Communist Soviet Union.
Later he escaped to the West, but after telling his story on many occasions was found dead. The following is an edited extract from his book Forgive me Natasha*.
At last it was 9.45 – time to go. On the way out of the Petropavlovsk police station to the truck, we picked up our police clubs and handcuffs. ‘Keep the clubs short’, I said. ‘We’ll be in close quarters tonight.’
The truck raced across the city. As we came within a few blocks of our destination, we shut the siren off, lowered our lights and slowed down. As soon as we had parked, I pointed to a couple of men in the back of the truck and said, ‘You two, get out and block off the street.’ We had strict orders from Nikiforov, our commander, to keep passers by away.
Surprise raid
Now everything was set. Stealthily we moved toward the front door. After one more check to make sure everyone was in place, I said ‘Let’s go!’ Then I hit the door in a flying run and snapped it open. Inside 15 startled people on their knees, praying and singing, looked up in disbelief. Their faces were filled with a mixture of surprise and fear. Yet some kept praying and others continued to sing without missing a note.
I shouted, ‘What are you doing?’ ‘Praying’, someone replied. ‘To whom?’ ‘To God.’ ‘There is no God, you fools’, I yelled. Then suddenly one of my men swung his club. We waded in, hitting and kicking.
Smashing everything
Nothing in the house – people or furniture – escaped our wrath. We smashed everything in sight. Half covered by the debris were the Believers, some unconscious and the rest in agonising pain. I saw Victor grab a young girl who was trying to escape. She was a beautiful young girl. Victor caught her, picked her up, lifted her above his head. She was pleading, ‘Don’t, please don’t!’ Victor threw her so hard she hit the wall at the same height she was thrown, then dropped to the floor, semi-conscious, moaning. Victor laughed. ‘I’ll bet the idea of God went flying out of her head.’ But I was thinking, ‘She’s a real beautiful girl.’
‘Get those two men!’ I ordered, pointing to the leaders who matched the description Nikiforov had given me. We went around the room taking identification papers. I got the beautiful girl’s identification card. Her name was Natasha Zhdanova. The job was done. It was time to go.
Young people’s meeting
Three days later eight members of my operations group were called to raid a meeting in Nogornaya Street.We roared up there, jumped out of the truck and crashed through the front door. To our astonishment, they were all young people. We went right to work on them, slapping and shoving them. I quickly surveyed the room and saw a sight I couldn’t believe! There she was, that same girl! Only three nights before, she had been at the other meeting and been viciously thrown across the room. She was more beautiful than I first remembered – flowing blonde hair, blue eyes.
‘Well’, I shouted, ‘it doesn’t look like you did a great job last time, Victor!’ I picked her up and flung her on the table face down. Two of us stripped her. One of my men held her down and I beat her until the blood flowed.To suppress her cries she bit her lower lip and blood ran down her chin. I pushed her off the table and she collapsed on the floor. We took the youth leader and left. I could understand foolish old people who were infected with religion. But young people believing in God!
‘She’s a Believer’
I was interested in finding out more about Natasha Zhdanova. The Youth League kept a record of all young people in our area. I looked up her file. She was born in the Ukraine. Her parents were workers on a collective farm. As a little girl she had moved to live with her uncle in Petropavlovsk, to get a better opportunity. She now worked as a proofreader for the Petropavlovsk Pravda newspaper.
I went to her place of work. One of her superiors told me, ‘We’ve never had any problem whatsoever.’ ‘We’ve found her twice in secret meetings of underground churches’, I said. ‘She’s a Believer.’ A gasp went up. The newsroom workers looked at each other. It was as if I’d said she was a leper or a mass murderer. I left a message ordering her to report to me at a certain time at the police station.
Interviewing Natasha
She came. I could see she was frightened. I asked why she was a Believer. ‘What should I be?’ she replied. ‘An alcoholic? A prostitute?’ Then she asked, ‘Did you find anything wrong with my work record?’ ’No, I didn’t, I admitted. ‘But somewhere you went wrong and are mixed up with people who are a great danger to our country.’ I lectured her and warned her of real trouble if she continued her ways.
Finally, I saw I wasn’t going to shake her. I warned her once more that this was going on her record and she must never be found mixing with Believers again. Despite her apparent fear, she began to tell me why she believed in God. While she talked I was conscious of the deep marks on her lower lip. Once I had all the information I needed, I dismissed her abruptly and roughly.
A familiar face
About a week later we were called to for another action against a secret church. I posted guards again and blocked off the street. When all was ready we burst in, swinging clubs wildly. The shocked believers began to scatter, trying to protect themselves from the rain of blows. There was lots of noise – shouts and screams. And then I caught a glimpse of a familiar face. There she was – Natasha Zhdanova! Several of the guys saw her too. Alex Gulyaev moved towards her, hatred filling his face.
Totally unexpected
Then something I never expected happened. Without warning, Victor jumped between Natasha and Alex, facing Alex head-on. ‘Get out of my way’, shouted Alex. Victor’s feet didn’t move. ‘No one touches her’, said Victor. One of my most brutal men was protecting one of the Believers! Angered, Alex shouted, ‘You want her for yourself, don’t you?’ ‘No’, Victor shouted back. ‘She has something we don’t have! Nobody touches her! Nobody!’ I had to break this up and fast. Victor stood still with his arms out, protecting Natasha, daring Alex or anyone to take a step towards her. What was I to do? I nodded to her, then motioned for her to leave. She turned and hurried out. I nodded a sign of approval to the guards.
‘Something we didn’t have’
For one of the few times in my life, I was deeply moved. She had gone through unbelievable suffering, but here she was again. She had something we didn’t have. ‘What is it?’ I wanted to run after her, but she was gone. Shortly afterward, she returned to the Ukraine. This heroic Christian girl who had suffered so much at our hands somehow both touched and troubled me very much. I felt, for the first time, that the Believers may not be the fools and enemies I had thought they were.
