Moscow Times

August 17, 2000

DEFENSE DOSSIER: Cover-Up in Sub Tragedy

By Pavel Felgenhauer

The nuclear submarine Kursk of the Oscar-2 class f the largest attack submarine ever built f is lying on the floor of the Barents Sea, and hopes for a successful salvation are fading rapidly. But as the magnitude of the human tragedy becomes clearer, the extent of deceit that accompanied the Kursk disaster has also been exposed.

The naval authorities first reported a "malfunction" aboard the Kursk this Monday, adding that the sub went under Sunday. But it soon became apparent that the accident actually happened before noon last Saturday and the authorities were trying to cover up for two days before going public.

After misleading the public about the time of the accident, naval "sources" began to tell other yarns: That the vessel did not sink but "descended to the ocean floor," that "contact with the crew was established," that "air and power are being pumped from the surface into the ship," that "everyone on board is alive," that "the vessel's two nuclear reactors have been shut down" and so on.

Actually, none of the above was fully true, and the authorities were either guessing or deliberately misinforming the public.

No air or power was supplied to the sub from the surface at all; this report was completely unsubstantiated. No true "contact with the crew" was established either. The sonar operators of Russian warships near the sunken Kursk were picking up some noise coming from below, which was interpreted as distress signals being sent by crew members marooned somewhere inside the hull of the Kursk and tapping on the walls of their compartments with iron. The noise indicated someone aboard was alive, but no further information was provided. The signals were faint, and the navy did not know what exactly had happened aboard the Kursk, how many sailors survived, whether they were wounded and in what part of the huge ship the survivors were hiding.

The Kursk went down like a rock. There was no distress signal, and the crew did not manage to float its satellite communication beacon. The navy did not know for certain that the crew actually shut down Kursk's two 190-megawatt nuclear reactors. There were no obvious signs of a reactor meltdown or explosion at the sight of the wreck, so it was assumed that the reactors had shut down automatically when the disaster occurred.

Still, the Kursk is now a ticking time bomb. The two reactors will eventually leak merely 100 meters below the sea surface, polluting Barents Sea fisheries. But an attempt to retrieve the reactors or salvage the sub may in fact facilitate a spill of radioactivity if the ship or its reactor compartment break up during a botched rescue attempt. What may be worse is that, if the navy has lied so much about the Kursk, information it provides in the future will not be taken at face value.

In the past, Russian (and Soviet) officialdom traditionally suppressed facts about nuclear disasters, and bad habits die hard. But the total confusion in statements after the sinking of the Kursk may also be explained by a fit of panic that hit the military-industrial establishment.

The Oscar-2 subs were considered "unsinkable," as Igor Baranov, the ships' chief designer, told reporters this week. One Oscar-2 sub carries enough firepower to destroy an entire U.S. aircraft/carrier group or a large sea transport convoy in one fell swoop. In a war with the West, Oscar-2 subs (of which 16 were built) would have been deployed to cut NATO in half by severing the transatlantic sea link. The hull of an Oscar-2 has 10 separate waterproof compartments and was designed to be able to float even after a direct torpedo hit.

The only thing the navy managed to do four days after the Kursk went down was to send a submersible to take pictures of the damaged hull. Naval commanders were largely waiting for the crew to save itself by either floating the ship or abandoning it in special suits. The admirals rejected the idea that an Oscar-2 sub could simply pop and go with its crew apparently killed or disabled almost instantly. Western offers of aid were also put aside so that NATO could not acquire precise information on how to sink the "unsinkable" sub. The navy did manage to make the Kursk into a mystery ship, but to the detriment of its crew.

Our admirals know too well that disclosing secrets to the West may easily land them in the clink, while risking sailors' lives most likely will not.

Pavel Felgenhauer is an independent, Moscow-based defense analyst.