The man sitting next to me on the plane to Moscow was a person of gentle manners. That much I had already concluded before we even exchanged a word. Odd, how in spite of his appearance - a tidy suit, a gold watch and a neat tie clip - I had already taken a liking to him by the time he pitched a polite question at me. More often than not, a businessman in Russia, gold watch and all, is of the bizzinezz kind - the breed one stumbles across everywhere in Russia, treasure hunting for that quick dollar - no rubles for these types - to let them impress their wannabe-mafiosi friends with another Mercedes.

Ruslan was a lawyer based in Moscow these days. He expressed himself with thoughtfully chosen words, even switching to passable English halfway through the conversation. He was one of those rare conversationalists that could actually insert relevant quotes from well-known writers, without ever appearing condescending.

A name that tells too much

When CNN can go to the streets of Moscow and easily find passers-by that call for the carpet bombing of Chechnya, or some other not-so-imaginative "final solution", it is easy to appreciate that one's ethnic origins need not be advertised too loudly.

There was a time in history when racial prejudice, a kind of prejudice that has defined history for millennia, achieved excesses that will forever symbolise the ugly predisposition to violence in all of us. The people that suffered unimaginably from simply belonging to a sub-group of us were labelled with a yellow star by the Germans. And I should be prejudiced for that predisposition to violence as well, for I have German blood in me.

Persecution comes in many forms

While that persecution has already caused many Chechens to lose their livelihoods, be evicted from their homes throughout Russia or even to 'disappear', this is nothing compared with what happens to those left behind. The drop of rain maketh a hole in the stone, not by violence, but by oft falling.

Ruslan, in his way explained what was really happening. 'You see, it is not a war, but just another episode of our people's suffering. The Chinese talk of how just one glass of water can be utter torture, when it is simply, drop by drop, trickled on the skull of a man tightly bound to a chair. This is what is happening to our people - drop by drop everything we are is coming apart."

It was just like Ruslan to see the whole picture, even though he should have been pre-occupied with much more immediate horrors. You see, he had come back to try to arrange the burial of his wife's family. Yes, family --- father, aunt, cousin, even a 1-year old baby --- five people in total. He told me of how they were killed in their home at the end of January by Russian "special forces" during the storm of Grozny. They had been hastily buried in the garden by fleeing neighbours. While Grozny had been kept sealed Ruslan had not been able to return to move the bodies and make the proper ceremonies possible. Under Muslim custom, without a proper burial their souls will never find rest.

To trace the descent into the abyss

Do these Russian conscripts discover the pleasure of annihilating life and then find that there are no restraints - but only find further encouragement? Can this be explained away by some obscure Siberian winter staple, some genetic abnormality? Or is this what happens to people when ... when what?

Only a fraction of unquantifiable horrors

Not guilty, was the verdict.

As the Aeroflot journey came to an end, I asked myself, how could a sad man such as Ruslan still turn around, smile and offer to be of any assistance I should require?