Ilya Yashin is one of the best-known Russian opposition figures from the Solidarity movement. He criticized the Russian war of aggression and was therefore imprisoned in June.
Photo: Alexandra Astakhov
You are a local politician from Moscow and known in Russia for your open criticism of President Vladimir Putin. Today you are behind bars. What did you do wrong?
I have a criminal case on the basis of “military censorship” which is why I was arrested and have been in a Moscow prison for almost three months. I am accused of publicly speaking out against the “special operation” on the territory of Ukraine. The reason for the arrest was a report by the British television station BBC about the deaths of civilians in Bucha near Kyiv. I showed a snippet of this report during a stream on my Youtube channel. Because the Russian government regards the deaths of Ukrainian civilians in Butcha as a staging and provocation of Western secret services, I face ten years in prison.
Are you so dangerous to the powerful?
Obviously, my case is meant to be a demonstration. Authorities are using this to intimidate sections of Russian society that do not agree with Putin’s aggressive policies. After February 24, we find ourselves in a new reality in which, indeed, any dissent, any criticism of the President, and any opposition activity is equated with extremism, betrayal, and ostracism.
Since the beginning of the war, it is estimated that more than 16 000 people have been arrested, many face up to 15 years in prison.
I was arrested for political reasons, no doubt: the authorities don’t even try to hide it. Before that, they tried to disguise their motives in the Kremlin and took the opposition to court on economic charges, labeling them scammers and common criminals. Now Putin is no longer ashamed of political repression. True to the motto: “If you act against the war, then you are welcome in prison.” Think about it: we are only incarcerated because we demand to stop the bloodshed in a neighboring country. Absolutely all independent media in Russia are closed, banned, blocked. State television pours streams of hate on society every day. And all attempts to demand common sense and humanism are burned out with red-hot iron by the security forces.
Can you give examples?
Moscow city deputy Alexey Gorinov suggested at a meeting to hold a minute’s silence in memory of the murdered Ukrainians. For this he was sentenced to seven years in prison. Petersburg artist Aleksandra Skochilenko put up several anti-war stickers in a supermarket and has been in prison for six months. A priest in one of the villages of the Kostroma region in a sermon called for an end to hostilities, after which the police pursued him. There are hundreds of such cases across Russia. But I refuse to consider myself a victim. My government is committing a crime and I’m trying to fight back. Unlike a victim, I have no intention of humbly accepting my fate and will speak out against war even behind bars.
How is life in a Russian prison?
I am in Butyrka prison, not far from the center of Moscow. This is a notorious place. Russian tsars sent insurgents here, and during the Soviet era famous representatives of the Russian intelligentsia, poets and scientists were imprisoned here. Here you can really feel the connection between generations of freethinkers and dissidents throughout centuries of Russian history.
The rules are quite common for a Russian prison: get up at 6 a.m. and go to bed at 10 p.m. They feed us three times a day and shower once a week. In the morning there is the opportunity to take a walk in the prison courtyard. This yard looks like a small concrete fountain. There is a bar on one side to somehow maintain physical fitness. There is quite a bit of free time. I spend most of my time reading books, writing texts and letters. Of course, prison is not the most pleasant place. But it is quite possible to adapt to life here. The main thing is to overcome the inner fear that has been ingrained in most Russians for generations.
How are you treated by the prison administration, how by the guards, is there a difference between political prisoners and criminals?
Surprisingly, the administration and guards treat me very respectfully. I even heard words of support from ordinary policemen. I was amazed that an oppositionist could find sympathy within a system of power designed to suppress dissent. Everyone understands, of course, that I am a political prisoner, that I have not committed a crime. But I’m in prison and there’s no special treatment. On the one hand, they don’t put any particular psychological pressure on me. On the other hand, they make no concessions or show any particular leniency. At the same time, they guard me more closely than most prisoners. That’s probably why they put me in a special prison block, where mostly people who have been convicted of economic crimes are sitting.
How are you treated by the other inmates? Do the prisoners talk about politics, about the war in Ukraine?
There are a wide variety of people in prison, and of course many are interested in political issues. Sometimes there are discussions, but I haven’t encountered any real conflict situations yet. Before I meet my lawyers, they usually take me to a collection point where I have to wait for about two hours along with many prisoners from other cells. This is how people who have followed my political activities get to know me personally. Some express their support, others ask for updates on the real state of affairs at the front.
It is reported that the Russian army is recruited in prisons due to a lack of personnel.
I rarely meet supporters of war here. Most prisoners are rather concerned about the country’s prospects, the economic and social situation, the tightening of laws and how it will be possible to adapt to life in new conditions after release. Of course, there is a debate in prison about how representatives of PMCs (editor’s note: private military companies, like the Wagner group) recruit prisoners for the war and promise money and rehabilitation in return. So one of the prisoners who was in a penal colony and returned to Moscow for a new criminal case told me a story: He said that 15 prisoners from his prison barracks went to the war zone. In the end only one survived.
What is the point politically that you are now behind bars and giving interviews from prison?
Of course, being in captivity is not a good thing. After the war began, however, the Kremlin gave the opposition politicians no other choice: emigration or imprisonment. Of course, you can safely live abroad in a cozy cafe with a cup of tea, communicate with colleagues, give interviews to journalists. However, the weight and meaning of the words of a politician who has decided to emigrate is greatly reduced. They inevitably lose contact with their country and their people. The authorities are given the opportunity to brand them as a “foreign agent” who has “gone off to his masters.”
It is of course more difficult for a politician who is in prison to work because the state system isolates him. Communication with the outside world remains only through letters and lawyers. But each of his arguments weighs more heavily, becomes weightier, more convincing. Because a person’s willingness to go to jail for their beliefs, their determination to answer for their words, all earn them genuine respect in the eyes of society.
A high price to pay for political credibility, don’t you think?
Emigration or imprisonment is a very cruel decision, I would even say a dramatic one. In fact, one has to choose between the motherland and personal freedom. Each of us makes our own decision about what to do in such a situation.
How do you manage not to lose hope in prison?
It helps me a lot to be convinced that I’m right. My conscience is clear. When our government instigated a bloody massacre, I didn’t keep silent, didn’t lower my eyes, didn’t try to find polite synonyms for the word “war crimes.” No, I have loudly spoken out the truth about what happened, called things by their proper names and called on my compatriots to resist the war. Forgive the pathos, but I believe my mission is noble. And that inspires me.
I also feel the sincere support of relatives, friends and supporters who flock to my trials. Not a single person turned their backs on me after the arrest. And, of course, I see how many citizens across Russia are worried about my fate. You have no idea how many thank you letters I get in prison. thousands! The scale of this correspondence astounds even the prison administration. Although propaganda claims that the majority of people agree with Putin’s aggressive policies, in real life I don’t see mass support for the war.
That wasn’t the case a few years ago.
Yes, the situation was different in 2014: the slogans »Crimea belongs to us« and »We can do it again« (editor’s note: reference to the victory of the Soviet Army in World War II) hung on balconies and private cars. The authorities were so confident that they allowed pro-peace opposition demonstrations under the Russian and Ukrainian flags in central Moscow. Now you might see the symbols of the special operation in Moscow on police cars and administration buildings. Security forces even detain people on the street for yellow and blue sneakers. Is this how the government acts, trusting in its popularity? This is a sign of weakness.
