Ukrainian Civilians Detained in Russia and Occupied Territories

 

In the bitter cold,  Ukrainian civilians woke early, and queued for the toilet, as armed captors loaded them into the livestock trailer. They spent the next 12 hours or more digging trenches on the front lines for Russian soldiers. The captors forced many to wear overlarge Russian military uniforms, potentially making them targets. Meanwhile, a former city administrator trudged around in boots five sizes too big. By the end of the day, their hands curled into icy claws. In Zaporizhzhia’s occupied region, civilians dug mass graves for fellow prisoners who couldn’t survive. One man who refused to dig was shot on the spot — yet another body for the grave.

Thousands of Ukrainian civilians are being detained across Russia and the occupied Ukrainian territories. They are held in centers ranging from brand-new wings in Russian prisons to clammy basements. Most, including have no status under Russian law. Russia is planning to hold possibly thousands more. Russian document shows plans for 25 prison colonies, 6 detention centers in occupied Ukraine by 2026. The document’s date is January. In addition, Russian President Vladimir Putin signed a decree in May allowing Russia to send people from territories with martial law, which includes all of occupied Ukraine, to those without, such as Russia.

Russian Torture and Detention of Ukrainian Civilians

 

This makes it easier to deport Ukrainians who resist Russian occupation deep into Russia indefinitely, which has happened in multiple cases documented by the AP. Many civilians are picked up for alleged transgressions as minor as speaking Ukrainian or simply being a young man in an occupied region and are often held without charge. Others are charged as terrorists, combatants, or people who “resist the special military operation.” Hundreds are used for slave labor by Russia’s military, for digging trenches and other fortifications, as well as mass graves.

Torture is routine, including repeated electrical shocks, beatings that crack skulls and fractured ribs, and simulated suffocation. Many former prisoners told the AP they witnessed deaths. A United Nations report from late June documented 77 summary executions of civilian captives and the death of one man due to torture. Russia does not acknowledge holding civilians at all, let alone its reasons for doing so. But the prisoners serve as future bargaining chips in exchange for Russian soldiers, and the U.N. has said there is evidence of civilians being used as human shields near the front lines.

Human Rights Abuses and Torture

 

The AP spoke with dozens of people, including 20 former detainees, along with ex-prisoners of war, the families of more than a dozen civilians in detention, two Ukrainian intelligence officials, and a government negotiator. Their accounts, as well as satellite imagery, social media, government documents, and copies of letters delivered by the Red Cross, confirm a widescale Russian system of detention and abuse of civilians that stands in direct violation of the Geneva Conventions. Some civilians were held for days or weeks, while others have vanished for well over a year.

Nearly everyone freed said they experienced or witnessed torture, and most described being shifted from one place to another without explanation. “It’s a business of human trafficking,” said Olena Yahupova, the city administrator who was forced to dig trenches for the Russians in Zaporizhzhia. “If we don’t talk about it and keep silent, then tomorrow anyone can be there — my neighbor, acquaintance, child.”

INVISIBLE PRISONERS

 

The new building in the compound of Prison Colony No. 2 is at least two stories tall, separated from the main prison by a thick wall. Satellite imagery shows this new facility in Rostov region, Russia, since the war began in Feb 2022, says AP. Hundreds of detained Ukrainian civilians are believed to be housed in this facility, per captives, families, activists, and lawyers. Two exiled Russian human rights advocates said it is heavily guarded by soldiers and armored vehicles. Over 40 detention facilities in Russia & Belarus, and 63 sites in occupied Ukraine hold civilians, incl. Rostov building.

Data from former captives, Ukrainian Media Initiative, & Gulagu.net formed the AP map’s information. The recent U.N. report counted a total of 37 facilities in Russia and Belarus and 125 in occupied Ukraine. Some also hold Russian prisoners accused or convicted of a variety of crimes. Other, more makeshift locations are near the front lines, and the AP documented two locations where former prisoners say Ukrainians were forced to dig trenches. The shadowy nature of the system makes it difficult to know exactly how many civilians are being detained. Ukraine’s government has been able to confirm the legal details of a little over 1,000 who are facing charges.

Ukraine’s Detained Civilians

 

At least 4,000 civilians are held in Russia and at least as many are scattered around the occupied territories, according to Vladimir Osechkin, an exiled Russian human rights activist who talks to informants within Russian prisons and founded Gulagu.net to document abuses. Ovechkin showed AP a Russian prison document from 2022 saying that 119 people ‘‘opposed to the special military operation’’ in Ukraine were moved by plane to the main prison colony in the Russian region of Voronezh. Many Ukrainians later freed by Russia also described unexplained plane transfers.

In all, Ukraine’s government believes around 10,000 civilians could be detained, according to Ukrainian negotiator Oleksandr Kononeko, based on reports from loved ones, as well as post-release interviews with some civilians and the hundreds of Ukrainian soldiers returned in prisoner exchanges. Ukraine said in June that about 150 civilians have been freed to Ukrainian-controlled territory, and the Russians deny holding others. “They say, ‘We don’t have these people, it’s you who is lying,’” Kononeko said. The detention of two men from the Kherson region in August 2022 offers a glimpse at how hard it is for families to track down loved ones in Russian custody.

Detention and Uncertainty

 

Artem Baranov, and Yevhen Pryshliak, who worked at a local asphalt plant with his father, had been friends for over a decade. Baranov’s common-law wife, Ilona Slyva, mentioned that their bond grew stronger when they both acquired dogs during the coronavirus pandemic. Even after Russia took over their hometown of Nova Kakhovka, they continued their evening walks, with Baranov accompanied by a shy, giant black Italian mastiff, and Pryshliak with a toy poodle whose apricot fur matched his beard.

Their walk ran late the night of Aug. 15, and Pryshliak decided to stay at Baranov’s apartment rather than risk being caught breaking the Russian curfew. Neighbors later told the family that 15 armed Russian soldiers swooped in, ransacked the apartment, and seized the men. For a month, they were in the local jail, with conditions relaxed enough that Slyva was able to talk to Pryshliak through the fence. Baranov, he told her, couldn’t come out.

Contact through Eclairs: A Lifeline Found

 

She sent in packages of food and clothes but did not know if they were reaching him. Finally, on Baranov’s birthday, she bought his favorite dessert of cream eclairs, smashed them up, and slipped in a scrap of paper with her new Russian phone number scrawled on it. She hoped the guards would have little interest in the sticky mess and just pass it along. A month went by, and the families learned the men had been transferred to a new prison in Sevastopol, in Crimea. Then the trail went dark. Four more months passed. Then, a call from Pavlo Zaporozhets’ family, whom they had never met but would soon know well.

Zaporozhets, a Ukrainian from the occupied Kherson region charged with international terrorism, was sharing a cell in Rostov with Baranov. Since he faced charges, he had a lawyer. It was then that Slyva knew her gift of eclairs — and the phone number smuggled within them — had reached its destination. Baranov had memorized her number and passed it through a complex chain that finally got news of him to her on April 7. Baranov wrote that he was accused of espionage — an accusation that Slyva scorned as falling apart even under Russia’s internal logic. He was detained in August, and Russia illegally annexed the regions only in October.

Growing Numbers: Civilian Detentions Surge

 

“When he was detained, he was on his national territory,” she said. “They thought and thought and invented a criminal case against him for espionage.” Baranov wrote home that he was transported across prisons with his eyes closed in two planes, one of which had about 60 people. He and Pryshliak were separated at their third transfer in late winter. Pryshliak’s family has received a form letter from the Rostov prison denying he is an inmate there. The number of civilian detainees has grown rapidly throughout the war. In the first wave early on, Russian units moved in with lists of activists, pro-Ukrainian community leaders, and military veterans.

Melitopol Mayor Ivan Fedorov seized, exchanged for 9 Russian soldiers within a week, he stated. Then they focused on teachers and doctors who refused to work with the occupation authorities. Today, people are detained for mundane acts like tying a ribbon to a bicycle in Ukrainian colors (blue and yellow).

“Now there is no logic,” Fedorov said.

 

He estimated that around 500 Ukrainian civilians are detained just in his city at any time — numbers echoed by multiple people interviewed by the AP. A Ukrainian intelligence official said the Russian fear of dissidents had become “pathological” since last fall, as Russians brace for Ukraine’s counteroffensive. The official spoke on condition of anonymity to discuss the situation. AP: Missing men seized off streets; noticed on closed Ukrainian social media chats. Messages detail gunpoint detentions at homes and streets, pleas for info, and emojis of hearts and praying hands.

The Geneva Conventions, in general, forbid the arbitrary detention or forced deportation of civilians, and state that detainees must be allowed to communicate with loved ones, obtain legal counsel, and challenge allegations against them. But first, they must be found. After months of writing letter after letter to locate Pryshliak, his sister-in-law Liubov thinks she knows why the prisoners have moved around: “So that the families cannot find them. Just to hide the traces of crimes.”

SLAVES IN THE TRENCHES

 

Hundreds of civilians end up in a place that is possibly even more dangerous than the prisons: the trenches of occupied Ukraine. There, they are forced to build protection for Russian soldiers, according to multiple people who managed to leave Russian custody. Among them was Yahupova, the 50-year-old civil administrator detained in October 2022 in the Zaporizhzhia region, possibly because she is married to a Ukrainian soldier.

Under international humanitarian law, Yahupova is a civilian — defined as anyone who is not an active member of or volunteer for the armed forces. Documented breaches of the law constitute a war crime and, if widespread and systematic, “may also constitute a crime against humanity.” Proving soldier-civilian distinctions is tough, as Ukraine urges citizens to share Russian troop locations on social media.

Indiscriminate Detentions and Brutal Tactics

 

Russians are indiscriminately detaining civilians alongside soldiers, even those denounced by neighbors or seized at random. They picked Yahupova up at her house in October. Then they demanded she reveal information about her husband, taping a plastic bag over her face, beating her on the head with a filled water bottle, and tightening a cable around her neck. They also dragged her out of the cell and drove her around town to identify pro-Ukrainian locals. She didn’t. When they hauled her out a second time, she was exhausted.

In front of a Russian news camera, she felt dried blood on the back of her neck — a haunting memory. She was going to give an interview, her captors told her. Behind the camera, a gun was pointed at her head. The soldier said if she gave the right answers to the journalist, she could go free. But she didn’t know what the right answers were. She went back to the cell. Three months later, without any explanation, they pulled Yahupova outside again. This time, they drove her to a deserted checkpoint, where yet another Russian news crew awaited. Received an order: Lahore security guard jobs, hold hands with two men, walk 5 meters toward Ukraine.

Occupied Territories: Forced Labor & Desperation

 

The three Ukrainians were ordered to do another take. And another, to show that Russia was freeing the Ukrainian civilians in its custody. Russian soldiers loaded them into a truck and drove to a nearby crossroads after the last take. One put shovels into their hands. “Now you will do something for the good of the Russian Federation,” he said. Yahupova and a dozen Ukrainians, including business owners, students, teachers, and utility workers. She could see other crews in the distance, with armed guards standing over them. Most wore Russian military uniforms and boots and lived in fear that Ukrainian artillery would mistake them for the enemy.

Satellite imagery confirmed new trenches where Yahupova and a Ukrainian man claimed they were held. He requested anonymity because his relatives still live under occupation. “Sometimes we even worked there 24 hours a day, when they had an inspection coming,” he said. The man also spoke with other Ukrainian civilians digging mass graves nearby for at least 15 people. He said one civilian had been shot for refusing to dig. Satellite imagery shows a mound of freshly-dug earth in the spot the man described. The man escaped during a Russian troop rotation, and Yahupova also made her way out. But both said hundreds of others are still on the occupied front lines, forced to work for Russia or die.

TORTURE AS POLICY

 

When Yahupova returned to her home after more than five months, someone had stolen everything. Someone had shot her beloved dog. Headache, blurred vision, and children urging her to leave the occupied area — she faced challenging conditions. After miles through Russia and the Baltics, she reunited with her husband at the Ukrainian front line. Earlier married in a civil ceremony, the two got wed this time in church. Yahupova seeks justice against Russia: lost months, concussion, stolen home. She still reflexively touches the back of her head, where the bottle struck her over and over. “They stole not only from me, they stole from half the country,” she said.

The abuse Yahupova described is common. Torture was relentless, with no information extracted, per every former detainee interviewed by AP. The U.N. report from June said 91% of prisoners “described torture and ill-treatment.” In the occupied territories, all the freed civilians interviewed by the AP described cramped rooms and cells. They also mentioned the presence of tools of torture prepared in advance. The tape was carefully placed on chairs to bind arms and legs, plus repeated questioning by Russia’s FSB. The AP obtained nearly 100 evidence photos from Ukrainian investigators.

Cruel Torture and Mental Anguish

 

These photos showed instruments of torture found in liberated areas of Kherson, Kyiv, and Kharkiv. The tools matched descriptions provided by former civilian captives held in Russia and occupied regions. Detainees linked to electric wires in field phones, batteries, dubbed “call your mother” or “call Biden” by Russians. U.N. investigators: victim described Yahupova’s treatment, severe head beating with a water bottle. Russian forces seized math teacher Viktoriia Andrusha on 25 March 2022, after discovering military vehicle photos on her phone. By March 28, she was in prison in Russia. Her captors told her Ukraine had fallen and no one wanted any civilians back.

Torture: fists, metal, wood, rubber batons, plastic bags – common experiences for her and many others. Men in black, with special forces chevrons on their sleeves, pummeled her in the prison corridor. They also attacked her in a ceramic-tiled room seemingly designed for quick cleaning. Russian propaganda played on a television above her. “There was a point when I was already sitting and saying: Honestly, do what you want with me. I just don’t care anymore,” Andrus said. Along with the physical torture came mental anguish.

Captivity and Psychological Warfare

 

Repeating threats: death in prison, knife slashes, uncaring government, forgotten family, and useless language for Andrusha. They forced captives to memorize verse after verse of the Russian national anthem and other patriotic songs. “Their job was to influence us psychologically, to show us that we are not human,” she said. “Our task was to make sure that everything they did to us did not affect us.” Then one day, without explanation, it was over for her and another woman kept with her.

Guards ordered them to pack up, cuffed them, and put them on a bus. The weight Andrusha had lost in prison,  showed starkly in the cast-off jacket that hung from her shoulders. They were soon joined by Ukrainian soldiers held captive elsewhere. On the other side, Andrusha saw three Russian soldiers. 53 cases of exchanging civilians as prisoners of war confirmed, violating international law. Mayor Fedorov testifies. A man detained with Andrusha in March 2022 is in captivity still. She doesn’t know the fate of the others she met. But many former captives take it upon themselves to contact the loved ones of their former cellmates.

Surviving Captivity and Waiting for Loved Ones

 

Andrusha, memorized whispered phone numbers in a circle of Ukrainians, hoping one might escape. When freed, she passed them to Ukrainian officials. Andrusha has since regained some of her weight. She talks about her six months in prison calmly but with anger. “I was able to survive this,” she said, after a day back in the classroom with her students. “There are so many cases when people do not return.” In the meantime, for loved ones, the wait is agony. In March last year, they detained Anna Vuiko’s father as one of the earliest civilians.

Disabled glass factory worker Roman Vuiko resisted Russian soldiers’ attempt to take his Kyiv home, per neighbors and daughter. They drove a military truck, including  into the yard, shattered the windows, cuffed the 50-year-old man, and drove off. By May 2022, Vuiko was in a prison in Kursk, Russia, hundreds of kilometers (miles) away. Months later, he sent only one letter to his daughter, written four months after his capture, arriving six months later.

Standard phrases told his daughter about his life, but she doubts he received her letters are available. “I think about it every day,” she said. “It’s been a year, more than a year. … How much more time has to pass?” Arhirova reported from Kyiv. Contributors include Michael Biesecker in Washington, Illia Novikov in Kyiv, Mstyslav Chernov in Kherson, and Evgeniy Maloletka in Zaporizhzhia.

Source: https://abcnews.go.com/International/wireStory/thousands-ukraine-civilians-held-russian-prisons-russia-plans-101203598