1992 - Războiul care nu se uită // Povestea unui polițist de pe Nistru: „Intrau cu mașina blindată în sat și împușcau”

Could the 1992 war on the Dniester have been avoided? “I don’t think so,” says Mihai Rotari, a former policeman of the Dubasari Police Commissariat. “The tensions had started much earlier,” recalls the veteran about the saddest period of his life, lived at a young age: he was only 31. “We never even left the war zone,” Mihai Rotari continues, his face relaxing for a moment.

“We are in a frozen conflict zone; on the other side, we’re guarded by peacekeeping forces; on this side, there are the forces from the east – border guards, customs officers,” says the veteran, who at that time was the first head of the police post in Cosnita.

The policeman who had come to the village to ensure public order had overnight become a fierce defender of Moldova and of fundamental human rights. At that time, Moldova did not yet have a well‑trained and properly equipped army.

The memories overwhelmed him. The 35 years of Moldova’s independence unrolled like a film in his stories; the emotions and images of that harsh reality of 1992 could be felt and seen in his eyes, often flooded with tears…

Mihai Rotari joined law-enforcement bodies in 1981. He was a policeman at the Dubasari Police Commissariat; the only one in the Transnistrian region that did not fall into the hands of the separatists, although they were attacked, kidnapped and intimidated.

“They set up their own militia in Dubasari; it had district officers, patrol‑sentries, a guard unit. They would receive reports from citizens, and so would we. But we were limited in our interventions, they followed us, and if the service car was caught responding to a call, it would be damaged, overturned. At one point, I realized I could no longer fulfill my duties, policemen were being hunted down, some were caught and beaten…,” says Mihai Rotari.

It was then that the forces hostile to the state of the Republic of Moldova installed a checkpoint on the Dubasari bridge, which is still working today, known as Post No. 9.

“They were monitoring and ‘hunting’ people. They were armed, paramilitary forces, so to speak, special forces to hold this side. There were many cases when they would drive an armored vehicle into the village and shoot, destroying fences and people’s houses. We had found a way and somehow managed to stop them from shooting,” the veteran recalls.

The most tragic event in the community’s history followed. On the night of March 13–14, 1992, secessionist forces attacked the Cosnita Police Post, intending to stage a provocation.

“It was the police post commanded by Ghenadie Vasilita, made up of six people. They had gone to the canning factory to check another police post located there. At that moment, they were attacked by guards who were prepared. That was the first time we heard about night‑vision devices, used by the guards. My driver, Nicolae Sotnicenco, was killed then, targeted through a scope; it was a precision shot. Ghenadie Vasilita was wounded, Nicolae Cibotari was wounded and remained in a wheelchair for life, and two other policemen were taken prisoner. The purpose was to take the police car and drive it to the entrance to Cosnita, at the intersection with the Dubasari–Grigoriopol–Rabnita–Tiraspol road. There they wanted to stage a provocation, to make it look as if we had attacked them, so they were merely responding. But they couldn’t start the car because the police vehicles were set up, so that no one else could take them. They couldn’t start it and overturned it. That’s where we found Nicolae Cibotari and Nicolae Sotnicenco, dead,” recalls Mihai Rotari, his voice trembling.

He paused, a few tears running down his cheek. The pain still consumes his soul today.

“On March 14, we launched a large‑scale liberation operation, we crossed the Dniester with two APCs, and by evening we had destroyed them, we attacked them all. Then we received help from Battalion No. 1 and No. 6, and police commissariats from Nisporeni and Hancesti began sending forces. We formed the front line, created the first platoons and posts and started to move forward, poorly equipped at first, with little weaponry; the people in power at that time did not really believe in us. We created the Cosnita Plateau. The fighting was brutal. The military actions were supported by the Ministry of Internal Affairs; there was no talk at all of armed forces, because they did not exist. Only on May 19 did a military commander arrive who knew what a combat position was and how to set it up. We lost 34 men,” said Mihai Rotari.

The people of Cosnita fear a new war. Surrounded by military and customs posts, they look with fear at the Russian peacekeepers with loaded magazines.

“We never even left the war zone; we are in a frozen conflict zone. On the other side, we are guarded by peacekeeping forces, on this side, there are forces from the east – border guards, customs officers. Only the Russian peacekeeping forces are allowed to carry loaded assault rifles; wherever you see a loaded magazine on a rifle, that’s a Russian. They have also fired on a Polish car and on a German car; locals of ours have died. They shot Pisari, who was from Parata, allegedly because he did not stop at the signs placed there. Everyone relies on the Snegur–Yeltsin agreement, but so many years have passed; review those agreements, we say we want reintegration, we want to unite the two banks, but how can we unite them, if we are still sitting here with checkpoints that shouldn’t exist? Come here at four in the morning and see how many cars go to Chisinau; all of Transnistria goes to work. No one attacks them. Does this particular checkpoint really have to be stuck here?” the veteran asks, referring to Post No. 9, abusively installed in 1992 and re‑established in the same place under the 1992 Agreement.

“For 34 years we’ve had a Security Zone. The deployment of peacekeeping forces along the security perimeter is part of the understanding between Moldova and Russia. But we also have Post No. 9 here; look, in all this time couldn’t this checkpoint have been moved and relocated where they consider their territory to be? The post was reinstated here after the 1992 agreement, placed at the Cosnita bridgehead,” the veteran explains.

Mihai Rotari is president of the “Cosnita Plateau” Dniester War Veterans Association. All these years, he has watched over the peace and quiet of the residents. Always thinking of the people, the veteran says that building a bridge over the Dniester would be welcome:

“For so many years… the Dniester freezes… at Cocieri, build a bridge. It’s an isolated village when the ferry isn’t running. They have to pass 13 checkpoints before they reach Chișinău.”

At first glance, Cosnita is a village of hardworking people: clean streets, well‑kept homesteads. In the center of the village, a monument in memory of the heroes who fell in the War for the Independence of Moldova stands.

“In Cosnita people stayed; we have nowhere else to go. Many once worked in Dubasari, they have children married on the other side. The latest elections showed that the Transnistrian side voted for EU accession, and both in the parliamentary and in the presidential elections there was a manifestation of pro‑European will. The majority are for European integration, they have children abroad, in EU member states, people have started to travel. They have seen the prosperity of the European Union,” says the veteran.

On March 14, a large‑scale event will be held in Cosnita in memory of the heroes who fell in the 1992 attack.