Thirteen years have passed since the world's worst nuclear accident took place at Chernobyl nuclear power station in Ukraine, but the consequences are far from over. Thyroid cancer rates have increased, children are being born with genetic defects, and soil radiation levels remain dangerously high throughout large areas of Ukraine and Belarus.

The Chernobyl power station's third unit, the only one still in operation, is due to restart soon. The Ukrainian government says it needs the energy Chernobyl supplies, and will only close the station down if the West comes up with funding for new power plants. Yet another problem is the concrete sarcophagus, built over the destroyed reactor at Chernobyl. It was supposed to last forty years, but it is now cracking and needs to be rebuilt. Were it to collapse, tons of radioactive dust would be thrown into the atmosphere, creating another disaster.

Other Chernobyls are waiting to happen. It was an RBMK-type reactor that exploded in 1986, (RBMK reactors were common in the Soviet Union), several are still in operation today. This type of reactor was not built in other countries because its safety features were considered insufficient. One of the essential features of reactors elsewhere in the world, and not available in RBMK-type, is a containment structure over and above the reactor building itself. This structure is designed to prevent radioactive elements from escaping into the atmosphere as they did at Chernobyl.

Chernobyl was not just an accident, it was a flare-up of the chronic disease the whole Soviet system. The symptoms of that disease were multiple - all-pervasive secrecy, a culture of negligence, and a complete disregard for human lives.

Little else could be expected from a system that disposed of millions of people so effortlessly, sacrificing them in war and famine, making slaves of them in the Gulag. The worship of technology became an integral part of Soviet life; dams and blast furnaces became propaganda cult objects. It was a world where man was dwarfed by machines. The muscle-bound, square-jawed workers on propaganda posters gave an impression of strength and heroism, when the reality was more like an army of ants, tiny, insignificant details in the temple of industry.

The nuclear age opened up new horizons for the Soviet leaders. Nikita Khrushchev, always enthusiastic about technology, was immensely pleased with the successful test of a 50 megaton hydrogen bomb - the most powerful nuclear test ever.

Long before Chernobyl, Soviet citizens experienced the dangers posed by the "peaceful atom," as communist propaganda termed it. In 1954, under the command of Marshall Georgii Zhukov, troop exercises were carried out in the Orenburg region using real nuclear bombs. In 1957, at a plutonium manufacturing plant in the Chelyabinsk region, a holding container exploded, contaminating surrounding towns. In 1978, a barge loaded with radioactive waste (was) sunk in the middle of fishing grounds.

The outside world could guess at these events, provide at least some information, and make accusations, but successive Soviet governments continued their policy of stubborn denial and cover-up. These events were minor incidents in the eyes of the Party bosses, not the business either of the ordinary people who suffered the consequences, or prying foreign journalists.

When the number four unit at Chernobyl exploded on April 26 1986, the first reaction was a repetition of the past - the same old silence and playing-down the scope of the disaster.

The historian Dmitri Volkogonov, describes in his book "Seven leaders," how he was at a Ministry of Defense meeting in Lvov, in western Ukraine, when the news came that an accident had occurred at Chernobyl. "No one paid much attention. Accidents were so common in our country," he writes.

The authorities in Moscow also paid little attention at first. A report to the Party's Central Committee stated that no special measures such as evacuation of the population, were required. That complacency was not shared by local Communist dignitaries in Kiev and the surrounding areas, who evacuated their own children as soon as they could.

Mikhail Gorbachev had been General Secretary for just over a year when the Chernobyl accident happened. The disaster was a test of his commitment to the newly announced policies of perestroika and glasnost. But he too adopted, initially, the old habit of simply trying to keep a lid on everything.

But radiation respects no national borders, and this time, Soviet negligence and secrecy became a danger for the whole of Europe.

It was the Swedes who first raised the alarm. Swedish nuclear workers registered a sudden surge in radiation levels and at first thought it was something wrong at their own power station. Then the real source was located - a cloud of radioactive dust blown north-westward from Chernobyl.

Foreign journalists and diplomats in Moscow pressed the Soviet authorities for explanations. The Politburo met and discussed whether or not to give information. Foreign Minister Gromyko, suggested giving more information to "brother" socialist countries than to the capitalist nations. Gorbachev proposed limiting information to the clean-up work. It was only on April 28, two days after the accident, that Soviet TV news finally made a brief announcement.

Inhabitants of the towns around Chernobyl were given virtually no information and most were not evacuated for at least six days after the accident. An American reconnaissance satellite that flew over the area on April 29 showed pictures of the damaged reactor building, men playing soccer in the nearby town of Pripyat, the residence of the power station workers.

As if to emphasize that all was normal, the traditional May Day parades were held as usual in Kiev and in Minsk. The reactor was still burning at Chernobyl, still sending its lethal load into the atmosphere, but the Soviet rituals took precedence over public health.

Other countries were distributing iodine tablets to children and warning citizens of what precautions to take. The Soviet government left its citizens in the dark for a criminally long time. People in the contaminated zone resorted to their own, usually tragically ignorant remedies, that ranged from guzzling vodka, to drinking irradiated soil mixed into milk.

It was only on May 6 that Kiev radio, for example, finally warned listeners not to drink milk, and to stay indoors as much as possible. Prompt action and information could have reduced the number of casualties of radition-related illnesses, but that would have required the Soviet authorities to be frank about the real extent of the disaster.

The measures taken to contain the accident were carried out in typical Soviet style by not just professional fire fighters, but also army conscripts who did not even have adequate protective clothing. This disregard for human life was also reflected in reports from the Ministry of Agriculture, stating that produce from the contaminated regions was safe to eat, as was meat, once the cattle had been washed and had their lymph glands removed.

The Chernobyl accident caused more than just environmental and health consequences for the Soviet Union. It was an explosion that, like an x-ray, showed all the defects in the system. It gave impetus to fledgling independence movements in Ukraine and Belarus, and gave a harsh illustration of just how fossilized the Soviet system was.

It would not be exaggerating to say that Chernobyl did contribute to the Soviet Union's eventual collapse. The technological progress so lauded by the high priests of Marxism-Leninism turned out to be a time bomb when set to work in a culture of mis-management.

Ukraine and Belarus are still paying for the mistakes of a criminal system. The Soviet Union is history and the Communists have lost their former power, but this does not mean that lessons have been learned. The reality of Russia today is that little has changed. And it is not just money that is a problem, for beyond the financial difficulties lies the more complex task of rooting out a mentality that sees people as easily expendable and allows negligence to flourish.

Technology always carries inherent risks, and there is no suggestion that any human design or human activity can be completely risk-free. But a good measure of a country's level of culture and development is the effort it makes to protect and inform its citizens. Chernobyl stands as a grim reminder of what happens when human life ceases to be of value in the eyes of those in power.