…EVEN A DOG WON'T BARK IN HIS DEFENSE…" – CZECH NEWSPAPERS SAY ABOUT A MIGRANT WORKER FROM TRANSCARPATHIA

Czech public came to the defense of a wrongly convicted Ukrainian, and after almost five years in prison his term was reduced for one third

(translated from Ukrainian) 

Yaroslav GALAS "FACTS" (Uzhgorod)

The story of Petro Terpay, a migrant worker from Maly Rakovets mountain village in Transcarpathia, is hardly typical. In Czech Republic the Ukrainian got sentenced to seven years in prison for a crime he never committed. Our compatriot was looking at serving the entire sentence, but to his defense suddenly came… the prison chaplain.

Now Petro is back home with his family, while his friends in Czech Republic are collecting money to buy a tractor that the Ukrainian had lost during his ordeal in foreign jails.

Why a tractor – that became clear at Maly Rakovets where Petro Terpay lives. As a journalist I had a chance to drive frequently around this entire region, but nowhere else have I seen such roads. In the center of the village the streets have a more or less decent asphalt surface, but at the outskirts the roads are paved with elongated stone blocks surviving from the times of Austrian-Hungarian Empire. It took us 45 minutes to drive three kilometers of this road in our off-road four-wheeler! No wonder that residents of Maly Rakovets use 'Niva' jeeps, tractors or horses as their regular means of transportation.

Petro's small hut sits at the very edge of the village. Its owner, 37, meets me in the front yard and invites inside. Rooms with well-built furniture are clean and cozy; icons are hanging on the walls. The very environment and the host's behavior make you doubt unwittingly that he is capable of the crime for which he spent almost five years in jail.

Petro's pre-trial bio is no different than life stories of most of his townsmen. In mid 1990s the young man was working on a collective farm; and after the farm fell apart, he lost his means of subsistence. He had to bring food to his wife and two sons, so the head of the family moved to Czech Republic in search of work. A "client" (in Transcarpathia this is the term for people who find illegal jobs for migrant workers), who came from the same village, found Petro a job of an excavator operator in a sand quarry in Lysa nad Labem town about 50 km from Prague, collecting one third of earnings as a reward for his services.

- I worked in this sand quarry from 2000 to 2002, - Petro Terpay says. – I was sending money home regularly, and when my visa expired, I would go back to Ukraine for a few months to get a new one. One of my periods of stay in Czech Republic was ending in June 2002, so I was about to go back home again. I was going to take an intercity bus, but the "client" recommended me to travel with his friend, another fellow villager, who was driving back home with his nephew. We agreed on the price, and on June 22 drove to the Polish border (back then transit through Poland did not require a visa). But at the border checkpoint our Ford Mondeo was directed away from the common line of cars, and in a few minutes eight cops approached the car, handcuffed and detained us. After three days in a cell the cops informed us that we are suspects in a hold-up of a post office.

The crime with which the Ukrainians were charged took place five days prior to their arrest, on June 17^th, in Smecno village near the town of Kladno. In the morning two armed robbers broke into the post office and stole 104,850 korunas (about four thousand dollars) and shot a cashier through her arm. The police had some leads to detain the Ukrainians. Six days before the crime a man about thirty came to the post office, carefully examined the room, bought three postal stamps, and left. Postal workers found his behavior suspicious; he spoke with strong Russian accent; so they noted his car license plate number and notified the police just in case.

After the hold-up the police first of all started looking for the car with that license plate. It happened to be the very Ford Mondeo where Petro was riding with his townsmen. After their arrest, the Ford driver explained that indeed he was passing through Smecno six days before the crime with a friend who did buy stamps at the post office, but he has nothing to do with the hold-up. As for Petro, all that time he was working in the sand quarry all day long, and he met his companions for the first time only on the day of their departure for home. But the police were not satisfied with their testimonies.

Since there were just two robbers, the driver's nephew was released soon, but two other detainees were charged with armed robbery. The main evidence of the Ukrainians' involvement in the crime came from the line-up arranged for three women postal workers and a chance witness who happened to stop by the post office and seen the robbers.

The identification went as follows. The chance witness did not recognize either Petro or his companion, and picked up a police officer from the line-up instead, identifying him as a robber. The first postal worker pointed at Petro who, she said, was standing by the window and shot her colleague with a pistol, and at the Ford driver who took money from the money box. The second woman identified one of the cops in the line-up as one of the criminals. The last witness pointed at a cop and also at Petro who, she claimed, took money from the box. After that the first woman said that she made a mistake, and in fact it was Petro who took the money, while the Ford driver shot her colleague. Despite two witnesses identifying no one, one woman picking up just one of the suspects, and another one contradicting herself, the cops considered this evidence conclusive.

- We were transferred to a detention facility in Prague, - Petro continues. – I was put in a cell with three foreigners: a Russian guy for whom that was not his first arrest; an employee from an embassy of an African country accused of raping a Czech girl (he was reading the Bible all the time and kept swearing that he raped no one, it was consensual), and a Polish guy who was soon transferred to a camp. The driver of ill-fated Ford was kept in the same facility but in a different wing. We saw each other again only at the trial. They started interrogations and other investigative procedures. I was amazed from the beginning with the cops' arrogance. They treated me dismissively as a third-rate person. There were plenty of Ukrainians in that detention facility, who were there for a reason. But is it fair to tar everyone with the same brush? I kept arguing that on the date of the hold-up I was 110 km from Smecno working on my excavator, and that many people can confirm that. They were simply writing down my statements… 

I tried to get help at our embassy, I sent a letter there. The reply was: "The Embassy personnel have no right to influence the investigation procedures. We advise you to have your lawyer summon to court the witnesses who can confirm your innocence".

Investigation went on for almost a year. First I was called for interrogation almost every week, and later I could be waiting my next interrogation for up to several months. We were taken out for a walk in the courtyard for just one hour daily, and spend the remaining 23 hours in our cell. I was reading the Bible most of the time.

The Ukrainians went on trial in April 2003. Nine witnesses for defense testified in Petro's favor: the father of the sand quarry owner; his daughter-in-law; five workers; and two more people who happened to be in the sand quarry. They all confirmed that on that date Petro spent the entire day at his workplace. One of the workers testified that at the moment when the robbery was taking place he was standing next to the excavator talking to the defendant; another one recalled that when he heard the news on the radio about the hold-up allegedly committed by former Soviet Union migrants on that date, he even teased Petro – what if he had a hand in that. The Czechs had no interest in defending the Ukrainian; on the contrary, they were risking to be fined for illegally hiring an alien. Nevertheless, they all unanimously confirmed his alibi.

"Terpay was my best worker, - Miroslav Coubal, father of the sand quarry owner, told a Czech newspaper. – It was his second season working for me; he was never absent from the sand quarry; I could rely on him completely. And on that day too he was working there since 7 am. I hired many Ukrainians, but all of them I had to fire after a while. And such workers as Terpay are very rare. I am certain that he never committed that crime, this I why I came to his defense…" However, the court ignored witnesses' testimonies and on the basis of controversial identification line-up sentenced each of the Ukrainians to seven years in prison. The Czech "Tyden" weekly would write later: "The court could not care less about witnesses' testimonies. They had a Ukrainian in their hands – an ideal criminal, in whose defense even a dog won't bark…"

The court of appeal left the sentence unchanged. Petro tried to get justice at the European Court of Human Rights, but the ECHR refused to take the case. It turned out that first he had to go to the Czech Republic Supreme Court, but by that time he missed the deadline for lodging an appeal...

After the sentence was enacted, Petro got transferred to Vinarice maximum security prison (near Prague). This deeply religious Ukrainian who prayed every day in the prison chapel behaved so differently from other inmates, that he attracted attention of the prison chaplain Pavel Kocnar. The chaplain got interested in Petro's case, carefully studied the charges, visited the sand quarry and met its workers. Realizing that Petro was convicted unfairly, he turned to the media. Unexpectedly Petro Terpay's case provoked tremendous response in Czech Republic. It was covered in national newspapers; discussed on the national radio; popular Nova TV channel has even produced a whole program about the Ukrainian with a kind of investigatory experiment arranged by journalists who, getting police permission, tried to drive at the maximum speed from the sand quarry to the crime site and back in 15 minutes (that was the longest that Perto could have been absent from work according to the witnesses). After that experiment, the journalists concluded: Petro would not be able to commit that crime even if he flew a helicopter. He had a hundred percent alibi.

Religious organizations, NGOs, even the Czech Helsinki Committee rose to the defense of the wrongfully convicted Ukrainian. A petition was sent to President Vaclav Klaus asking to pardon Petro Trepay. Helas, everything was in vain. This is what the "Tyden" weekly wrote: "Public organizations approached the Ministry of Justice; however, justice was not interested in a Ukrainian. Appeals were made personally to Petr Necas (Czech Minister of Justice – Author's note). He said that he is convinced of Terpay's innocence, but did nothing to help him. Ivan Langer (Czech Cabinet member – Author's note) and other top officials were approached too. They did nothing. Eventually, Terpay's predicament could be eased by Presidential pardon, but President Klaus denied it. Pardon a Ukrainian? That would be a very unpopular move…"

However, all the appeals in Petro's defense did produce a certain effect – he started being treated differently in the prison camp. The Ukrainian has been permitted to work – to grow vegetables on a land plot within the camp grounds, and then he was transferred to a facility for soon-to-be-released inmates. That was something of a hotel within the prison. Thirty inmates there had to themselves a common kitchen, a bathroom with automated washing machines, and even a living room with two TV sets. But most importantly, Pavel Kocnar arranged for the prisoner a long-awaited meeting with his family.

- When in June 2002 Petro did not return from Czech Republic to renew his visa, I went to see a mini-bus driver who often brought deliveries from Czhechia, - Petro's wife Oksana Terpay says. – He told me that my husband was supposed to come back two weeks ago, and he advised me to go to the "client". The "client" knew what happened, but he decided to conceal the truth. He told me that Petro moved to work somewhere near German border and cannot be reached. After a few days, worried and confused, I went to a nearby village to see a seeress. She told me: "Petro is alive but kept in confinement. Wait for a message from him". And in a few weeks a letter came from my husband. (Petro wrote to his family immediately after the arrest, but the letter was kept for security check by police for a long time. – Author's note.) Learning of what had happened to my husband I got sick and spent three months in hospital. And meanwhile rumors started in the village that my husband left us and found himself another family abroad…

- All these years my children and I lived in misery, - Oksana Terpay continues. – My disabled brother received a pension of 220 hryvnias, and that is what the four of us had to live on through winters. And in the summers children and I would pick up wild mushrooms and berries and sell them on the farmers' market. I finally saw my husband again only after three and a half years. Chaplain Pavel Kocnar sent us money to get me a passport, buy tickets, and in June 2005 he invited us to Czechia. Petro was sick then, he even got appendectomy. We were granted a three-hour visit. Children and I were taken into a room where they then brought my husband. And here he was, thin as never before, standing in the door and looking at his sons who had grown up so much, and he could not say a word. We were standing like that maybe for 15 minutes looking at each other silently. I had a lump in my throat, and tears were running from my eyes…

After this visit, Oksana and children spent another week in Prague. Pavel Kocnar placed his guests in a hotel, organized tours for them every day, gave them presents. Next year, in the summer of 2006, the chaplain arranged for Petro another meeting with his family. This is how a Ukrainian family that lost their only breadwinner for several years, found support from a complete stranger.

And eventually Pavel Kocnar's appeals brought some results. In February of this year, the District Court of Usti nad Labem city, after hearing Petro Terpay's case, decided to reduce his term in prison for one third and release him with immediate deportation and exclusion from the country for indefinite time.

- I spent my last six months in a minimum security camp near German border, - Petro says. – On the day of my release they gave me 500 korunas (about 25 dollars) and ordered me to leave Czech Republic within seven days. I called Pavel Kocnar from a bus station, and he came right away to pick me up, and had me as his house guest for several days. He helped me with the papers and put me on the Prague-Hust intercity bus that passes on the highway at two kilometers from my home village…

Now Petro enjoys living with his family, occasionally going for work to other Ukrainian regions. Alas, in his own village there is no work for him. Before his imprisonment, Petro had a tractor which he received after the collective farm had been dissolved, but during the years the vehicle that could help the family to earn some living had disappeared somewhere. Knowing that, Pavel Kocnar organized a collection in Prague at the St. Prokop Church to buy a tractor for the wrongfully convicted Ukrainian.

- Pavel and Mirek – a Czech who was my cellmate – came to visit me at the end of the summer, - Petro says. – Their trip was not uneventful; the visitors got their Ford fuel tank punched (!) on our country road. Despite that they loved Transcarpathia. We travelled around the entire region, visited several castles, had a vacation in the famous Valley of Daffodils…

Pavel Kocnar told me that my case is not closed yet, it must be heard by the Constitutional Court. If I am acquitted and the exclusion from the country cancelled, I will be able to go there again to work.

I had enough time during my years in prison to think about it. I hold no grudge against anyone. I have met people in Czechia who helped me. And I will remember that as long as I live…