logo
Thousands of Ukrainian civilians are still held by Russia with uncertain hope of release

Thousands of Ukrainian civilians are still held by Russia with uncertain hope of release

Chicago Tribune06-04-2025

When she heard her front door open almost two years ago, Kostiantyn Zinovkin's mother thought her son had returned home because he forgot something. Instead, men in balaclavas burst into the apartment in Melitopol, a southern Ukrainian city occupied by Russian forces.
They said Zinovkin was detained for a minor infraction and would be released soon. They used his key to enter, said his wife, Liusiena, and searched the flat so thoroughly that they tore it apart 'into molecules.'
But Zinovkin wasn't released. Weeks after his May 2023 arrest, the Russians told his mother he was plotting a terrorist attack. He's now standing trial on charges his family calls absurd.
Zinovkin is one of thousands of civilians in Russian captivity. Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy insists their release, along with prisoners of war, will be an important step toward ending the 3-year-old war.
So far, it hasn't appeared high on the agenda in U.S. talks with Moscow and Kyiv.
'While politicians discuss natural resources, possible territorial concessions, geopolitical interests and even Zelenskyy's suit in the Oval Office, they're not talking about people,' said Oleksandra Matviichuk, head of the Center for Civil Liberties, which won the Nobel Peace Prize in 2022.
Thousands held
In January, the center and other Ukrainian and Russian rights groups launched 'People First,' a campaign that says any peace settlement must prioritize the release of everyone they say are captives, including Russians jailed for protesting the war, as well as Ukrainian children who were illegally deported.
'You can't achieve sustainable peace without taking into account the human dimension,' Matviichuk told The Associated Press.
It's unknown how many Ukrainian civilians are in custody, both in occupied regions and in Russia. Ukraine's human rights ombudsman Dmytro Lubinets has estimated over 20,000.
Matviichuk says her group received over 4,000 requests to help civilian detainees. She notes it's against international law to detain noncombatants in war.
Oleg Orlov, co-founder of the Russian rights group Memorial, says advocates know at least 1,672 Ukrainian civilians are in Moscow's custody.
'There's a larger number of them that we don't know about,' added Orlov, whose organization won the Nobel alongside Matviichuk's group and is involved in People First.
Detained without charges
Many are detained for months without charges and don't know why they're being held, Orlov said.
Russian soldiers detained Mykyta Shkriabin, then 19, in Ukraine's Kharkiv region in March 2022. He left the basement where his family was sheltering from fighting to get supplies and never returned.
Shkriabin was detained even though he wasn't charged with a crime, said his lawyer, Leonid Solovyov. In 2023, the authorities began referring to him as a prisoner of war, a status Solovyov seeks to contest since the student wasn't a combatant.
Shkriabin's mother, Tetiana, told AP last month she still doesn't know where her son is held. In three years, she's received two letters from him saying he's doing well and that she shouldn't worry.
She's hoping for 'a prisoner exchange, a repatriation, or something,' Shkriabina said. Without hope, 'how does one hang in there?'
Terrorism, treason and espionage
Others face charges that their relatives say are fabricated.
After being seized in Melitopol, Zinovkin was jailed for over two years and charged with seven offenses, including plotting a terrorist attack, assembling weapons and high treason, his wife Liusiena Zinovkina told AP, describing the charges as 'absurd.'
While vocally pro-Ukrainian and against Russia's occupation, her husband couldn't plot to bomb anyone and had no weapons skills, she said.
Especially nonsensical is the treason charge, she said, because Russian law stipulates that only its citizens can be charged with that crime, and Zinovkin has never held Russian citizenship, unless it was forced upon him in jail. A conviction could bring life in prison.
Ukrainian civilian Serhii Tsyhipa, 63, was convicted of espionage and sentenced to 13 years in a maximum-security prison after he disappeared in March 2022 while walking his dog in Nova Kakhovka in the partially occupied Kherson region, said his wife, Olena. The dog also vanished.
Tsyhipa, a journalist, was wearing a jacket with a large red cross sewn on it. Both he and his wife, Olena, had those jackets, she told AP, because they volunteered to distribute food and other essentials when Russian troops invaded.
Serhii Tsyhipa protested the occupation, and Olena believes that led to his arrest.
He was held for months in Crimea and finally charged with espionage in December 2022. Almost a year later, in October 2023, Tsyhipa was convicted and sentenced in a trial that lasted only three hearings.
He appealed, but his sentence was upheld. 'But the Russian authorities must understand that we are fighting — that we are doing everything possible to bring him home,' she said.
Mykhailo Savva of the Expert Council of the Center for Civil Liberties said rights advocates know of 307 Ukrainian civilians convicted in Russia on criminal charges — usually espionage or treason, if the person held a Russian passport, but also terrorism and extremism.
He said that in Ukraine's occupied territories, Russians see activists, community leaders and journalists as 'the greatest threat.'
Winning release for those already serving sentences would be an uphill battle, advocates say.
Held in harsh conditions
Relatives must piece together scraps of information about prison conditions.
Zinovkina said she has received letters from her husband who told her of problems with his sight, teeth and back. Former prisoners also told her of cramped, cold basement cells in a jail in Rostov, where he's being held.
She believes her husband was pressured to sign a confession. A man who met him in jail told her Kostiantyn 'confessed to everything they wanted him to, so the worst is over' for him.
Orlov said Ukrainian POWs and civilians are known to be held in harsh conditions, where allegations of abuse and torture are common.
A recent report by the U.N. Human Rights Council's commission of inquiry on Ukraine said Russia 'committed enforced disappearances and torture as crimes against humanity,' part of a 'systematic attack against the civilian population and pursuant to a coordinated state policy.'
It said Russia 'detained large numbers of civilians,' jailed them in occupied Ukraine or deported them to Russia, and 'systematically used torture against certain categories of detainees to extract information, coerce, and intimidate.'
The Kremlin tested those methods during the two wars it waged in Chechnya in the 1990s and 2000s, well before invading Ukraine, said Orlov, who recently went to Ukraine to document Russia's human rights violations and saw the pattern repeated from the North Caucasus conflicts.
'Essentially, a misanthropic system has been created, and everyone who falls into it ends up in hell,' added Matviichuk, the Ukrainian human rights advocate.
Russia's Defense Ministry, the Federal Penitentiary Service and the Federal Security Service did not respond to requests for comment.
Tempering hope with patience
As the U.S. talks about a ceasefire, relatives continue to press for the captives' release.
Liusiena Zinovkina says she hasn't abandoned hope as her husband, now 35, stands trial but is tempering her expectations.
'I see that it's not as simple as the American president thought. It's not that easy to come to an agreement with Russia,' she said, reminding herself 'to be patient. It will happen, but not tomorrow.'
Olena Tsyhipa said every minute counts for her husband, whose health has deteriorated.
'My belief in his return is unwavering,' she said. 'We just have to wait.'

Orange background

Try Our AI Features

Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:

Comments

No comments yet...

Related Articles

Belarus frees dissident Siarhei Tsikhanouski and 13 others after a rare visit from top US envoy
Belarus frees dissident Siarhei Tsikhanouski and 13 others after a rare visit from top US envoy

Boston Globe

time29 minutes ago

  • Boston Globe

Belarus frees dissident Siarhei Tsikhanouski and 13 others after a rare visit from top US envoy

Advertisement 'My husband is free. It's difficult to describe the joy in my heart,' Tsikhanouskaya told reporters. But she added her team's work is 'not finished' while over 1,100 political prisoners remain behind bars in Belarus. Tsikhanouski, known for his anti-Lukashenko slogan 'stop the cockroach,' was jailed after announcing plans to challenge the strongman in the 2020 election. Following his arrest, his wife ran in his stead, rallying large crowds across the country. Official results of the election handed Lukashenko his sixth term in office but were denounced by the opposition and the West as a sham. Tens of thousands of people poured into the streets in the aftermath of the August 2020 vote, in the largest protests in the country's history. In the ensuing crackdown, more than 35,000 people were detained, with many beaten by police. Prominent opposition figures either fled the country or were imprisoned. Tsikhanouski was sentenced to 19 1/2 years in prison on charges of organizing mass riots. Advertisement Lukashenko has since extended his rule for a seventh term following a January 2025 election that the opposition called a farce. Since July 2024, he has pardoned nearly 300 people, including imprisoned U.S. citizens, seeking to mend ties with the West. At the meeting in Minsk, Lukashenko hugged and warmly welcomed Kellogg and the American delegation to his residence. 'I really hope that our conversation will be very sincere and open. Otherwise, what is the point of meeting? If we are clever and cunning in front of each other, we will not achieve results,' Lukashenko said. 'You have made a lot of noise in the world with your arrival.' Lukashenko's press secretary, Natalya Eismont, told Russian state media hours later that he freed the 14 prisoners following a request from U.S. President Donald Trump. It was not immediately clear whether Kellogg's visit might pave the way for the lifting of some U.S. sanctions against Minsk, imposed over the brutal crackdown against the 2020 protests and Lukashenko's support of Russia's all-out invasion of Ukraine. 'Lukashenko is clearly trying to get out of international isolation, and the release of such a large group of political prisoners signals a desire to start a dialogue with the U.S. in order to soften international sanctions,' Belarusian political analyst Valery Karbalevich told The Associated Press. 'After five years, Lukashenko is trying to loosen the knot with which the Kremlin tied him, using him for the war against Ukraine,' Karbalevich said. Advertisement Belarus has allowed the Kremlin to use its territory to send troops and weapons into Ukraine, and also to station its forces and nuclear weapons there. Many other prominent dissidents still languish in Belarusian jails, among them Nobel Peace Prize winner Ales Bialiatski, a human rights advocate serving a 10-year prison sentence on charges widely denounced as politically motivated. Bialiatski, founder of Viasna, Belarus' oldest and most prominent rights group, was arrested in 2021 during raids by the country's main security agency that still goes by its Soviet-era name, the KGB. In March 2023, he was convicted on charges of smuggling and financing actions that 'grossly violated public order,' and sentenced to 10 years. Authorities labeled him especially dangerous because of alleged 'extremist' tendencies. He, his family and supporters say the charges against him are politically motivated, and a U.N. panel of human rights experts called on Belarus to release him. In 2022, when Bialiatski was behind bars, he was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize along with the prominent Russian rights group Memorial and Ukraine's Center for Civil Liberties. Bialiatski has been serving his sentence at a penal colony for repeat offenders in the city of Gorki. The facility is notorious for beatings and hard labor. Bialiatski's wife warned last year about his deteriorating health, saying the 62-year-old battles multiple chronic illnesses. Also behind bars is Viktor Babaryka, a former banker who was widely seen in 2020 as Lukashenko's main electoral rival, and Maria Kolesnikova, a close ally of Tsikhanouskaya and charismatic leader of that year's mass protests. With her close-cropped hair and trademark gesture of forming her hands into the shape of a heart, Kolesnikova became an even greater symbol of resistance when Belarusian authorities tried to deport her. She responded by tearing up her passport at the border and walking back into Belarus. Advertisement Released alongside Tsikhanouski was longtime Radio Free Europe / Radio Liberty correspondent Ihar Karnei, the U.S. government-funded broadcaster confirmed. Karnei, who had also worked with prominent Belarusian and Russian newspapers, had been serving a three-year service on extremism charges he rejected as a sham. 'The release was a big surprise for me,' Karnei told AP in a phone interview Saturday. 'I didn't believe it until the very end, but now I understand that other political prisoners deserve the same.' He said that he spent about six months in solitary confinement. 'Most people suffer simply for their beliefs and do not deserve these terrible conditions and terms,' Karnei said. RFE/RL's Belarusian service had been designated extremist in the country, a common label handed to anyone who criticizes Lukashenko's government. As a result, working for it or spreading its content has become a criminal offense. 'We are deeply grateful to President Trump for securing the release of this brave journalist, who suffered at the hands of the Belarusian authorities,' the broadcaster's CEO Stephen Capus said Saturday in a press release. Karnei was detained several times while covering the 2020 protests. Unlike many of his colleagues, he chose to stay in Belarus despite the ensuing repression. He was arrested again in July 2023, as police raided his apartment seizing phones and computers. The group Reporters Without Borders says Belarus is Europe's leading jailer of journalists. At least 40 are serving long prison sentences, according to the independent Belarusian Association of Journalists. Many face beatings, poor medical care and the inability to contact lawyers or relatives, according to activists and former inmates. Advertisement Belarus also freed an Estonian national who had set up an NGO to raise funds for Belarusian refugees. According to the Estonian Foreign Ministry, Allan Roio was detained last January, and sentenced to 6 1/2 years in prison on charges of establishing an extremist organization.

Ukraine's White Angels take risks to rescue civilians under fire
Ukraine's White Angels take risks to rescue civilians under fire

American Military News

time35 minutes ago

  • American Military News

Ukraine's White Angels take risks to rescue civilians under fire

This article was originally published by Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty and is reprinted with permission. As Russia continues pressing its attacks into Ukraine's northeastern Sumy region, a special police unit known as the White Angels faces an increasingly daunting mission: Rescuing the last civilian holdouts from villages under heavy fire and getting them to safer regions. The Ukrainian unit must watch for first-person view drones, land mines, and incoming glide bombs as they bounce along dirt roads to find sometimes reluctant villagers and persuade them to accept a ride to a distant emergency shelter. Current Time's Andriy Kuzakov joined the White Angels as they rolled through the back roads of the Sumy region. At one at one, they were forced to hide out under the cover of trees as Russian attack drones stalked overhead. 'There's a first-person view drone,' Kuzakov said. 'Police have come to a prearranged meeting point to pick people up for evacuation. A lot are flying. Meanwhile, we are hiding from them under the trees.' Later, with the threat seemingly passed, the small crew rolled their white van into a settlement where they found a mother and her toddler daughter in urgent need of rescue. White Angel officer Olena Stavytska, an experienced rescuer, distracted the child with games and sweets while getting the two into the van and on the road. Stavytska said the day's rescue numbers were relatively small. 'It varies,' she explained. 'Sometimes 10, sometimes 15, sometimes 20. Many people. The situation in the Khotin area Is worse now. There are a lot of people.' At another location, the White Angels came across Ivan Mykhaylovych, a single man in his 70s, who had been hearing incoming Russian shelling constantly. 'It happened every day,' he said. 'There might have been a couple of calm hours during the night, but otherwise it was constant.' When asked how many other civilian Ukrainians remain in his village, he answered, 'I was the only one left in my area.' One White Angels officer said a major challenge for the unit is persuading locals to leave their homes behind and head somewhere safer. Many won't agree to leave until their house or yard begin to take direct hits from Russian shelling. The proximity of the front line does not seem enough to move most of them on its own. 'The border is about 10 kilometers away,' Kuzakov said, 'and the front line is just 5 or 6 kilometers away.' Blasts and the buzz of drones are constants for residents of this part of Sumy. United Nations figures indicate that more than 13,000 Ukrainian civilians have been killed so far since the full-scale invasion began three years ago, a large portion of that from air strikes. For locals in Sumy, making the decision to leave their homes behind, even with the assistance of the White Angels, is still vexing. The rescuers remain on patrol for those who choose to evacuate while there's still time.

As the UN turns 80, its crucial humanitarian aid work faces a clouded future
As the UN turns 80, its crucial humanitarian aid work faces a clouded future

Boston Globe

timean hour ago

  • Boston Globe

As the UN turns 80, its crucial humanitarian aid work faces a clouded future

A few kilometers (miles) away at the Kalobeyei Refugee Settlement, fellow Congolese refugee Bahati Musaba, a mother of five, said that since 2016, 'U.N. agencies have supported my children's education — we get food and water and even medicine,' as well as cash support from WFP to buy food and other basics. This year, those cash transfers — and many other U.N. aid activities — have stopped, threatening to upend or jeopardize millions of lives. Advertisement As the U.N. marks its 80th anniversary this month, its humanitarian agencies are facing one of the greatest crises in their history: The biggest funder — the United States — under the Trump administration and other Western donors have slashed international aid spending. Some want to use the money to build up national defense. Some U.N. agencies are increasingly pointing fingers at one another as they battle over a shrinking pool of funding, said a diplomat from a top donor country who spoke on condition of anonymity to comment freely about the funding crisis faced by some U.N. agencies. Advertisement Such pressures, humanitarian groups say, diminish the pivotal role of the U.N. and its partners in efforts to save millions of lives — by providing tents, food and water to people fleeing unrest in places like Myanmar, Sudan, Syria and Venezuela, or helping stamp out smallpox decades ago. 'It's the most abrupt upheaval of humanitarian work in the U.N. in my 40 years as a humanitarian worker, by far,' said Jan Egeland, a former U.N. humanitarian aid chief who now heads the Norwegian Refugee Council. 'And it will make the gap between exploding needs and contributions to aid work even bigger.' U.N. Secretary-General Antonio Guterres has asked the heads of U.N. agencies to find ways to cut 20% of their staffs, and his office in New York has floated sweeping ideas about reform that could vastly reshape the way the United Nations doles out aid. Humanitarian workers often face dangers and go where many others don't — to slums to collect data on emerging viruses or drought-stricken areas to deliver water. The U.N. says 2024 was the deadliest year for humanitarian personnel on record, mainly due to the war in Gaza. In February, it suspended aid operations in the stronghold of Yemen's Houthi rebels, who have detained dozens of U.N. and other aid workers. Proponents say U.N. aid operations have helped millions around the world affected by poverty, illness, conflict, hunger and other troubles. Critics insist many operations have become bloated, replete with bureaucratic perks and a lack of accountability, and are too distant from in-the-field needs. They say postcolonial Western donations have fostered dependency and corruption, which stifles the ability of countries to develop on their own, while often U.N.-backed aid programs that should be time-specific instead linger for many years with no end in sight. Advertisement In the case of the Nobel Peace Prize-winning WFP and the U.N.'s refugee and migration agencies, the U.S. has represented at least 40% of their total budgets, and Trump administration cuts to roughly $60 billion in U.S. foreign assistance have hit hard. Each U.N. agency has been cutting thousands of jobs and revising aid spending. 'It's too brutal what has happened,' said Egeland, alluding to cuts that have jolted the global aid community. 'However, it has forced us to make priorities ... what I hope is that we will be able to shift more of our resources to the front lines of humanity and have less people sitting in offices talking about the problem.' With the U.N. Security Council's divisions over wars in Ukraine and the Middle East hindering its ability to prevent or end conflict in recent years, humanitarian efforts to vaccinate children against polio or shelter and feed refugees have been a bright spot of U.N. activity. That's dimming now. Aside from the cuts and dangers faced by humanitarian workers, political conflict has at times overshadowed or impeded their work. UNRWA, the aid agency for Palestinian refugees, has delivered an array of services to millions — food, education, jobs and much more — in Lebanon, Syria and Jordan as well as in the West Bank and Gaza since its founding in 1948. Israel claims the agency's schools fan antisemitic and anti-Israel sentiment, which the agency denies. Israel says Hamas siphons off U.N. aid in Gaza to profit from it, while U.N. officials insist most aid gets delivered directly to the needy. Advertisement 'UNRWA is like one of the foundations of your home. If you remove it, everything falls apart,' said Issa Haj Hassan, 38, after a checkup at a small clinic at the Mar Elias Palestinian refugee camp in Beirut. UNRWA covers his diabetes and blood pressure medication, as well as his wife's heart medicine. The United States, Israel's top ally, has stopped contributing to UNRWA; it once provided a third of its funding. Earlier this year, Israel banned the aid group, which has strived to continue its work nonetheless. Ibtisam Salem, a single mother of five in her 50s who shares a small one-room apartment in Beirut with relatives who sleep on the floor, said: 'If it wasn't for UNRWA we would die of starvation. ... They helped build my home, and they give me health care. My children went to their schools.' Especially when it comes to food and hunger, needs worldwide are growing even as funding to address them shrinks. 'This year, we have estimated around 343 million acutely food insecure people,' said Carl Skau, WFP deputy executive director. 'It's a threefold increase if we compare four years ago. And this year, our funding is dropping 40%. So obviously that's an equation that doesn't come together easily.' Billing itself as the world's largest humanitarian organization, WFP has announced plans to cut about a quarter of its 22,000 staff. One question is how the United Nations remains relevant as an aid provider when global cooperation is on the outs, and national self-interest and self-defense are on the upswing. Advertisement The United Nations is not alone: Many of its aid partners are feeling the pinch. Groups like GAVI, which tries to ensure fair distribution of vaccines around the world, and the Global Fund, which spends billions each year to help battle HIV, tuberculosis and malaria, have been hit by Trump administration cuts to the U.S. Agency for International Development. Some private-sector, government-backed groups also are cropping up, including the divisive Gaza Humanitarian Foundation, which has been providing some food to Palestinians. But violence has erupted as crowds try to reach the distribution sites. No private-sector donor or well-heeled country — China and oil-rich Gulf states are often mentioned by aid groups — have filled the significant gaps from shrinking U.S. and other Western spending. The future of U.N. aid, experts say, will rest where it belongs — with the world body's 193 member countries. 'We need to take that debate back into our countries, into our capitals, because it is there that you either empower the U.N. to act and succeed — or you paralyze it,' said Achim Steiner, administrator of the U.N. Development Program.

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into a world of global content with local flavor? Download Daily8 app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store