Chronicle of a Pyrhhic victory
How it all began
It could happen to anyone. On a bright autumn day, I was overtaking an old banger that was crawling along on the 37th kilometre of the Priozerskoe Highway, when I was unexpectedly stopped by an inspector from the State Traffic Safety Inspectorate (STSI). There were no road marking or signs saying that you could not overtake. So I was extremely puzzled, as the inspector said that I'd committed a serious traffic offence - illegally crossing into the opposing lane. According to changes in the Code on Administrative Violations that came into effect in July 2007, this means losing your license for 4 to 6 months. And you can't choose to pay a fine instead.
'Yes,' I replied to the inspector. 'I did actually cross into the opposing lane when overtaking. But I was within my rights. Because I overtook in a place where it isn't prohibited. I didn't cross a continuous road marking. And there was no sign saying Overtaking prohibited.
'There wasn't,' agreed the inspector. 'But so what? You still broke the rules. Article 11.5', and he showed me the appropriate place in the book. This article, or rather the relevant section, read as follows:
Overtaking is prohibited..at the top of a hill and at other parts of roads with restricted visibility when crossing into the opposing lane.
I wasn't convinced by this, though. "But there's no sign saying 'Steep hill' here either. And my Volga, unlike like a plane, doesn't have an altitude meter. So where the hill ends, and whether this really is a hill, is a matter of subjective judgment. You think one way. I think another - and this cannot be the basis for administrative sanctions'
'You can tell that all to the magistrate,' was the reply. 'Come to my car and file a report'.
I had to obey - when I filled out the report form I registered my categorical disagreement with the inspector, noting the lack of marking and signs prohibiting overtaking. My license was taken away, and I was given a temporary permit to drive. After signing the summons to the magistrate in the report, the inspector let me go, explaining that with this 'permit' I could drive as much as I wanted until the court verdict revoking my license came into effect.
Stage one: contemplation
I began analysing the situation as I got together the necessary documents. Besides the road code, I downloaded the Chapter 12 of the Administrative Code, the section on cars. I also bought a useful book by D.A.Usoltsev: Drivers rights under the new fines.
From Usoltsev I learned, among other things, that the inspector who stopped me had broken the road code himself, as well as the departmental regulations of the STSI. His car wasn't stationary when the incident happened. When I started to overtake, I saw it coming out on to the highway in front of me, where it had been waiting in ambush on the left, making a left turn and not indicating. Then, obviously because he saw me in the rear view mirror, he turned around, without indicating, drove back and parked.
The inspector got out and stopped me opposite his car. He was supposed to obey the 'Regulations for the road patrol service of the State inspectorate of traffic safety of the Interior Ministry of the Russian Federation', article 13.6 of which states: 'It is prohibited to stop a vehicle on sections of roads with restricted visibility, before and after a turn, immediately before and after the top of a hill..and in other dangerous places, with the exception of cases when there is a need to stop to avoid undesirable consequences.' As my car was stopped directly on the side of the highway practically opposite the STSI car, one of the following applies:
1 Either the inspector, believing that I'd overtaken near 'the end of a hill or on another section of the road with restricted visibility' violated this article of the regulations himself.
2 Or the inspector didn't think that this section of the road was the 'end of a hill...'. In this case, he's contradicting himself, and is accordingly violating article 13.7 of the Regulations, which state: 'It is prohibited to stop a vehicle without urgent need'. And he's also violating the decree of the Russian Interior Ministry 'On reform of the activity of the State automobile inspectorate of the Russian MVD' which states 'Stopping vehicles in other cases (not covered by article 13.7) are assessed as a violation of official discipline'.
The next interesting observation I made concerns the Rules themselves. In the article which I was accused of violating, as we recall, the concept of 'restricted visibility' appears. The Road Code is a legislative document, and like any law it contains a preamble with a definition of the terms used. In this case, it is article 1.2, which does not however mention any 'restricted visibility'. There is 'insufficient visibility', which is not defined very clearly (road visibility of less than 300 m in conditions of fog, rain, snow and so on, and also at dusk) but is at least defined. But what restricted visibility is we can only guess at, because common sense cannot add anything here - as we know, unrestricted visibility does not exist. Apparently, a definition of this concept was included in the previous version of the rules - then it disappeared, although the actual concept still appears in the complete version of the Articles of the Road Code. You come to expect that quality of work from the Russian State Duma's legal drafts...
Considering all this, and also remembering that Russian judges prefer to read, rather than listen, I began to write an Explanation, and then showed it to Oleg Iordansky, one of the most qualified lawyers in Petersburg. He proposed various changes and improvements, and also recommended that I appeal for the case to be moved to the court where I live. 'The court where the inspector summoned you is probably in the pay of the local STSI. It's also out of town, and you'll have to appeal the decision at the nearest regional centre. Do you really need that all that driving?'
First Magistrate Court. 19th court district, Sertolovo village
When I arrived in the appointed place at the appointed time, I looked at a list of cases to be examined on that day. There were 23 of them. 22 involved violations of 'my' article of the Code - 12.15.4. The next day, 45 of these cases were going to be processed. Of a total of 45. It seemed that the lawyer's suggestion that this court 'specialised' in such cases was spot on.
What did this place of justice look like? Like all such places in Russia: steep icy stairs without a rail led to a door without a sign. Inside was a crowded room with ten seats (23 defendants were summoned - and at the same time! And 'repeat' defendants also turned up. They were allowed to jump the line). We obviously had to sit there for a long time, and there were no toilets for the public. Incidentally, there were also no toilets in the two other legal institutions that I had to go to. This, I think, is in accordance with the tradition of Russia's legal system. It is, as it were, a measure of its humanism.
Sitting in this room together with my fellow defendants under the unhappy number of 12.15.4, I heard a lot of interesting things. For example, most of them were convinced that the STSI intentionally provokes cars to overtake in the wrong place, by putting a tractor or some other slow vehicle on the highway, while they watch the road and rub their hands in anticipation of the harvest.
My meeting with the Sertolovo magistrate was quite predictable. I handed over the written appeal to transfer the case to my place of residence, and he approved it. What else could he do?
Between the first and second courts. Preparation.
I was not the only unlucky person that day, as it turned out. There's a concerted campaign going on in the country to apply Article 12.15.4 - so concerted that the inspector who stopped me gave me no hint that I might be able to resolve the case directly with him on the spot. I'll be quite frank: out of curiosity, I tried this on him, and he rejected my hint outright. Clearly, the traffic cops have got some quota to fill. (Although I wouldn't have given him a bribe in any case - I almost never do, especially not in a situation where I'm not to blame. Otherwise, it would be like accepting that anyone can stop me at any time and take money off me. I'm not prepared to accept that and I never will.)
As always in terrifying situations like this, people come up with ways to protect themselves. Like any normal person, I asked advice through friends of friends and their friends - and I got the same suggestions from various sources. They proposed that I could resolve the matter for about 25,000 rubles. If this service is provided by employees of the STSI, everything should work as follows. At the court hearing, the inspector turns up in person, beats himself on the chest and says that he got carried away, it wasn't really as bad as all that. It is clear why this is so expensive - he's not only got to interrupt his serious work by the roadside which earns him good money, he's also got to admit publicly that he's an idiot.
Legal firms proposed an alternative. I decided to got to one of them, called Road Patrol, which I found in an article in the newspaper Moy Rayon - and I was quite right to do so. The company really did have people who specialised in problems like mine. Despite the advertised fee of 500 rubles per consultation, they did not take my money. And they gave me various very useful suggestions.
'Did you hold your documents in your hands?' was the first thing they asked. 'No'. 'That's a shame. You should've taken it and seen what was there besides the police report.''And what else could have been there?'
'Lots of things. A diagram, for instance. Did you see the diagram the inspector drew afterwards?' 'No.' 'Well there you go'. 'If I'd known that earlier, I'd have looked at it in court,' I reflected. 'There would have been some point in going to Sertovalo.'
The next recommendation was to take a photograph of the actual place of the unforgettable meeting - the road, the state (ie absence) of markings etc. I should take photographs and attach an explanation.
The final, and as it turned out the most important, recommendation was to petition the court to send an enquiry to the competent service about the signs and markings in that area of the highway.
'We can take on your case', they told me as I left. 'It will cost you 2,000 rubles for our lawyer to come to court. If you win the case - and this happens three times out of four - you'll pay a total of 15,000 rubles. 'Do you really win cases that often?' 'Yes, we do. Reports are often wrongly filed, and that's already grounds for rejecting them."
Second magistrate's court. 23rd Judicial District, Vyborgsky District of St. Petersburg
About two weeks later I received a summons from the Magistrate Court in my district. I responded to this summons, as advised to do, and sent them the enquiry I' d made to the Leningrad Oblast Road Service about the signs and markings on the 37th km of the Petersburg-Sertovalo highway. The judge accepted the appeal and appointed the date of the next hearing.
At this point it's worth mentioning one detail - the main grounds for defense in such administrative violations. By law, a court verdict on a violation should be made not later than two months after it's committed. However, the time it takes to send the case from court to court also counts. If for any reason the decision isn't made within that period, the charges are dropped. So it's best to drag things out.
Judges, for their part, try to make sure this doesn't happen: if the judge in the 23rd district, K.A. Kopnin, hadn't been sure that he would receive a reply to my enquiry within a reasonable time, he'd have rejected my appeal without blinking an eye.
However, not everything is in the power of judges: if your wife brings a note that you're in hospital, for example. Or if you can present documents showing you went on a long business trip to a far away place, preferably abroad, before you received the summons.
Now let's return to Judicial District No 23.
But first I'd like to share with the reader my impressions of the authority of magistrates in the eyes of Petersburg lawyers. According to my observations, their thoroughness and independence from the law-enforcement organisations is well illustrated by the following story, which I was told three times by different people.
A group of security guards turned up either because they had been called in, or for no reason at all, in a Petersburg courtyard. There they got into an argument with a group of local residents who were drinking in a parked (!) car. The security guards called the STSI, who filed a report on driving a vehicle in an intoxicated state. In his defense, the owner of the car presented proof to the magistrate that his car was not only parked, but could not move of its own accord, as its drive shaft had been removed. However, the magistrate would not listen to these arguments. He took away the man's license for a year. The case is now being reviewed in federal court...
So there I was in the hall where K.A. Kopnin was holding court. I asked to be given the case so I could look it over. I was given it grudgingly. While I was leafing through the papers, the judge pronounced the sacramental words: 'You'll be travelling by trolleybus for the next four months'. Then it was my turn. I made my appeal. The judge asked his assistant to ring the relevant department. While my request was being carried out, he started praising himself shamelessly.
This all made me rather sad. When a man in his sixties, who has considerable power, starts telling you for no reason at all about his 30 years of professional experience, you start to suspect the opposite: that he's got serious complexes about his professional conduct. My suspicions were, alas, completely born out.
Another two weeks went by. Back in the hearing room, the first thing I did was ask about the reply to my enquiry. 'It's here, it's here, don't worry!' said Judge Kopnin and handed me the letter from the Leningrad Oblast Road Service.
The diagram completely confirmed what I'd said: there were no signs on that section of road, and over half of the 37th kilometre the lanes were divided by a broken white line of type 1.5, which means it is not prohibited to overtake. In the accompany letter, it said the Road Service does not even guarantee these markings. None of this was surprising. I was completely calm when Kopnin came out after 40 minutes to deliver his verdict.
This turned out to be quite fantastic. Kopnin considered that my guilt was proven on the grounds that the diagram from the road service showed an unbroken white line , of type 1.1! That is, the magistrate of district 19 saw something on that piece of paper that was not there, and accused me of something that the traffic inspector had not. He hadn't said anything about me violating the white line, and he had not indicated the corresponding article of the road code (1.3) in his report. Nor did he point out the white lines on the diagram attached to the report. What he'd been talking about was that it was a hill!
But sitting in his chair, the judge saw something the inspector hadn't noticed two months earlier on the road. A truly Delphic oracle!
Third Federal Court. Vyborgsky district of St. Petersburg. The end.
I appealed to the District Court against Judge Kopnin's decision. At the appointed time, I was heard by Judge Zh. Svetlichnaya. The magistrate's judgment was dismissed, and case proceedings were dropped because I had not committed an administrative violation.
I must say the atmosphere in the District Court was even more miserable than at the Magistrates Court. A small room with a bench for the 'client', without even a table he could put his papers on. There wasn't even a place to hang coats. While the judge was considering her verdict, we just had to wait in the corridor. Still, the result was favorable, both for me personally, for the law and for common sense.
In her statement, Judge Svetlichnaya cited the Decree of the Plenum of the Supreme Court of 2 October 2006, on the basis of which responsibility under Article 12.15.4 only applies in the event of a violation of a direct prohibition against crossing into the opposing lane, namely an appropriate marking or road sign.
As it happened, I received my driver's license back two days later, at poor old Kopnin's court. At first, he refused to give it back to me, saying that he'd get it sent over to the STSI some time in the following week, and that I could collect it from there. 'Those are the rules,' he said categorically. I was bitterly disappointed.
But suddenly, a couple of days later, the secretary at the 23rd district rang and said I could actually collect the license from them. I went there immediately. The procedure took four minutes, and I signed a form which made it abundantly clear that the court is actually able to return people's licenses.
Conclusion
So I was punished without being guilty. The cost of legal services, petrol and printing photographs came to over 2,000 rubles. I had to drive to Sertolovo and back (40 km), and also to that infamous 37th kilometre and back (90 km). I wasted at least five working days, quite apart from the stress...But who cares how much stress they cause in this country, where the words 'accusation' and 'condemnation' are almost synonymous!
P. S According to the lawyer Lordansky, there is not the remotest chance of being able to claim compensation. The procedure only allows compensation for direct, documented expenses - and only if the court considers them justified. Furthermore, the court sets expenses for legal aid at a rate which has nothing in common with the real cost of these services. In other words, trying to get the 2,000 rubles back would have been a complete waste of time in my case.
However, there is the concept of compensation of moral damage. But in practice this would only apply if I'd been held in custody or beaten. Or if I'd been taken to hospital with a heart attack after the meeting with the inspector or going to the magistrate's court. The stress, the waste of time, the humiliation of all those legal procedures I faced, those aren't considered to be grounds for moral damage in Russia.
Taking all this into consideration, I decided to limit myself to moral compensation. I sent a letter to the head of the STSI of St. Petersburg and the Leningrad Oblast, Major General of police S.I. Bugrov asking them to punish Inspector O.V. Gromov, who improperly stopped my car, in violation of the internal regulations of the STSI. I also asked for an apology from the division where Inspector Gromov works, as well as one from him personally.
The response to this letter came almost within the time stipulated by the law (one month). I received a telephone call, and someone on behalf of the division where the inspector works asked me to come to the STSI to talk.
I decided not to waste half a day on this journey, and preferred to wait for an official reply. I eventually got this by mail from the Acting Deputy of the STSI, S.I. Anisimov. I will quote the main body of it verbatim, for the level of mastery of the Russian language here is quite fantastic.
'On examining your statement, it was established that on 18 November 2007, an inspector correctly stopped the vehicle you were driving, for violating the rules of the road. Administrative proceedings opened against you under Part 4 Article 12.15 of the Administrative Code of the Russian Federation did not violate existing legislation. The second level court decision is not grounds for satisfying your statement.'
This means that for the STSI a court is not a court, people are not people, and the honour of the uniform is more important than the interests of common sense and the state.
Necessary explanations.
a The STSI (previously Department of Motor Vehicles) is the State Traffic Safety Inspectorate, the Russian traffic police. It is considered to be one of the most corrupt structures of the Russian state. An STSI inspector, along with a fire inspector, occupies an almost legendary status in Russia as a bribe-taker who has no other interests but filling his own pocket.
b The STSI mainly supervises traffic safety in the traditional way - with inspectors who watch roads. Radar is only used to measure the speed of moving vehicles, and it is not usually equipped with devices for printing a report and saving data. Only recently, in a very limited number of places, have speed cameras been installed which recognise number plates.
c For certain kinds of violations of the rules of the road, an inspector has the right to levy an administrative fine independently. However, this decision can be appealed both administratively and through a court. For other types of violations, the inspector can only file a report. A decision on punishment is taken by a magistrate's court. This decision can then be appealed in at the lower (district) level of the Federal Court.
d Several years ago inspectors lost the right to accept payment of fines themselves. Nevertheless, many drivers who are stopped for some violation prefer to pay the inspector a bribe, and not waste time waiting for the inspector to file a report. Usually, the size of this bribe is less than the fine for committing the violation. The bribes are larger in the case of violations which involve the loss of a license, impounding the car or the removal of its license plates.
e The meeting between the driver (me) and inspector took place on the St. Petersburg-Priozersk highway: a road of very poor quality even by Russian standards. This two-lane highway (one in each direction) is full of sharp turns and rather steep gradients. The asphalt surface is so bad that in any European country the road would be closed off almost completely.
f The Extra-Departmental Protection Directorate mentioned in the article is a police division responsible for guarding residential and other buildings under commercial contracts. Mobile EPD groups are sent out to protected objects when the security alarm goes off.
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