Every week, a vehicle crosses into Chechnya packed with hidden copies of the paper. Getting through the string of Russian checkpoints is a simple matter, according to Mr. Muradov. The Groznensky Rabochy staff was forced to flee offices in Grozny when Russian forces invaded in October 1999, in response to incursions by Chechen insurgents into neighboring republics and a series of still-unsolved bombings that Moscow blames on Chechen extremists. They take turns doing one-week reporting rotations in Grozny, and rely on a handful of freelance correspondents. Russian authorities, long angry with the newspaper's accounts of abuses of Chechen civilians, have sought to shut it down.
Readers have a full picture of what is happening.
The war has caused divisions between Chechens and Russians, but this paper is published in the Russian language. The utility of Groznensky Rabochy in separating fact from fiction is echoed by some of the tens of thousands of refugees here, who are allotted 500 copies of the weekly. They say it is 100 percent safe to return, that there are guarantees. But people go there and see something else. Impartiality has not always been a priority for Groznensky Rabochy.