A chance of peace?

They live in rows of tents, in abandoned barns, in the houses of local families paid to take them in; they sit and wait out their days or look for work nearby or make the perilous journey back and forth to their old homes. But among all those who have fled the fighting in Chechnya, the refrain is the same: "We just want to live like normal people," says Azamat, a 21-year-old at the Sputnik camp, home to over 6,000 people, near Ingushetia's border with Chechnya. Some have returned to Chechnya only to go into camps there. Families are fragmented, the future unknown. Aid workers have been bracing for a new influx, fearing a wave of repression after Chechen rebels took a Moscow theater and its audience hostage in October 2002. There are a few ominous signs. Refugees and foreign aid workers who have been to Chechnya recently say it has not much changed. The army seems to be obeying Russian President Vladimir Putin's instructions to exercise restraint. Putin seems to be using the hostage crisis to get more direct control in Chechnya--but not through force. In 2003 there will be a referendum to adopt a constitution that will reiterate that Chechnya is part of Russia, formally negating its self-declared independence a decade ago. A few months later there will be a presidential election. If Putin's project promises some kind of return to normality, the Chechens--at least those who have known the refugee's life--may take what is on offer.