"I was very lucky because I always knew which side I was on," she says.

Svěráková's mother-in-law, Alena Kumprechtová, offered a firsthand glimpse not only into the lives of the signatories, but the brutal retaliation they endured after the document became public. Her stories inspired Svěráková, 32, to seek out other women who signed the charter.

After a great deal of research, she found 10 whose stories exemplified the women's courage and the terrible retaliation they endured. She enlisted the help of other directors to help document their stories in Ženy Charty 77, a 10-part series currently showing on Czech Television.

In the series, Svěráková explores situations almost unimaginable today. Surviving everything from physical brutality to inhuman ultimatums, the women in the stories reveal superhuman strength and determination that is, at times, also hard to imagine. "When I started to listen to these stories, I thought, 'This is not from this world,' " Svěráková says.

A knock at the door

Charter 77 began as a dissident movement that blossomed into public view after a manifesto was drafted in late 1976 — triggered by the arrest of the Plastic People of the Universe — calling for the communist authorities to honor basic human rights. The original 230-odd signatories (by the late '80s, the number had grown to 1,200) risked the instant loss of their careers, imprisonment, threats to their families and physical assault. Perhaps the most famous signatory was Václav Havel, who went on to become the country's first post-revolution president.

But very little has been said about the nearly 400 women who ultimately signed Charter 77. The very first installment in Svěráková's series leaves no doubt about what they endured.

Zina Freundová recounts how she heard a knock on her door at 2 a.m., which turned out to be three secret agents who proceeded to beat her brutally, threatening to kill her next time if she tried to leave the Czech Republic. Freundová, however, did exactly that, returning after the revolution and becoming an English teacher.

Another woman in the series, Drahomíra Šinglová, a mother from a small village, was jailed for loving forbidden literature. She had visited the writer Pavel Kohout, who also signed Charter 77, in Sázava and was taken to prison after their conversations at his home were wiretapped. While she was imprisoned, her son's teacher made him stand in front of the class and answer the humiliating question, "Where is your mother now?"

Kohout's daughter also signed Charter 77, when she was just 19. Tereza Boučková, now herself a well-known writer, says her decision stemmed in part from the fact that she had always suffered the consequences of her father's dissident actions. "I wanted to have problems for my own decision," she says.

Psycho-terror

One of the few previously reported stories about a Charter 77 woman concerns Anna Šabatová, whose husband, Petr Uhl, was put in prison for being a dissident. After he had been behind bars for five years, the communists offered to provide him with a passport and work in another country if he would leave Czechoslovakia. Otherwise, he would remain in prison another four years.

Uhl left it to his wife to decide, telling her he would not blame her for her decision either way. Šabatová tearfully recounts that she thought to herself, "Our mission is to stay," and made the decision that kept her husband in prison another four years.

Kumprechtová recounts what she calls a "psycho-terror" experience. She was taken into police custody, and, after a traumatizing 48 hours of abuse, told that if she didn't sign a paper saying that she would spy for the regime, they would take her small son away and she would never see him again. She was given 20 minutes to decide, which she recalls as the worst 20 minutes of her life.

When the agents returned and asked if she'd made up her mind, she said, "Yes. I won't sign anything." The story has a fortunate ending, as she was not deprived of her son Jakub, who would later become Svěráková's husband.

The biggest thing

Today, many of the women have returned to their careers. A few are in government posts, and many still fight for human rights.

Svěráková says they all share a common viewpoint on their experiences.

"One would think that most people would be full of rage and wanting to spread their stories all over the media," she says. "But they don't blame anyone for anything. They say those people have to live with what they did and sort it out with their own conscience, and they don't want to pass judgment."

Surprisingly, given the courage the women showed, Svěráková says the most difficult thing about making the series was persuading them to talk. "They are so brave, but they are unwilling to brag," she says. "They don't think of themselves as heroes. Instead, they say, 'What I went through is nothing. Here, call my friend, she really went through something.' " Svěráková is happy to do the bragging for them. "We wouldn't be sitting here today if not for them," she declares. "And if something ever happened in this country again, they'd be the first to stand up."

The series is already having an impact. Svěráková says her 12-year-old daughter came home from school one day and said her teacher had told the class to watch Ženy Charty 77 every Sunday, and they would discuss it in class.