A Look into the Lives of Political Detainees Amidst Russia’s Crackdown

Alexei Navalny, the renowned political prisoner, will celebrate his 47th birthday in a stark, poorly lit concrete cell in Russia. His confinement in the “punishment isolation” cell, a meager 2 by 3-meter space, means no contact with family or friends – neither visits nor phone calls are allowed. His days are filled with loud renditions of patriotic songs and speeches from President Vladimir Putin, blasted by guards.

Navalny, known for his sardonic social media updates shared through his lawyers, is presently serving time in Penal Colony No. 6 in the Vladimir region, east of Moscow. He is serving a nine-year sentence set to end in 2030 on charges broadly considered as fabricated, and faces another trial that could extend his imprisonment by two more decades. Supporters are organizing protests across Russia to rally behind him.

Navalny has gained prominence as Russia’s most recognizable political prisoner, known for his fierce opposition to Putin, his alleged poisoning by the Kremlin, and his portrayal in an Oscar-winning documentary. His arbitrary confinement in isolation, the poor diet, limited time for writing letters, and the occasional unpleasant cellmate have all contributed to the harsh conditions of his incarceration.

While Navalny and other notable figures such as Vladimir Kara-Murza, recently sentenced to 25 years on treason charges, receive most of the attention, the number of lesser-known detainees in equally brutal conditions is on the rise. As of April, Memorial, Russia’s premier human rights organization and a Nobel Peace Prize recipient in 2022, reported a count of 558 political prisoners, a drastic increase from the 183 listed in 2018.

The grim reality of Russian prisons, as recorded in a 2021 U.S. State Department report, includes overcrowding, abuse by guards and fellow inmates, inadequate healthcare and sanitation, and food shortages. Despite these harsh conditions, prisoners are still expected to work, often tasked with jobs such as sewing military uniforms.

Andrei Pivovarov, another political detainee serving a four-year sentence, experiences similar harsh conditions at Penal Colony No. 7 in Russia’s Karelia region. According to Tatyana Usmanova, his partner, Pivovarov lives in isolation and faces strict rules that prevent other inmates from making eye contact, which contribute to his feeling of being utterly alone.

Pivovarov, the former head of the pro-democracy group Open Russia, was arrested on charges of collaborating with an “undesirable” organization. He spends his days in a small cell with only one book from the prison library, a few hours a day to write letters, and 90 minutes for outdoor time. Usmanova says his life in prison is intended not only to confine him but also to destroy him.

The circumstances are somewhat different for less-known political detainees like Alexei Gorinov, a former member of a Moscow municipal council. Convicted for spreading false information about the army, he lives in a barrack with about 50 other inmates at Penal Colony No. 2. His seven-year sentence was shocking to many, as it served as a warning to other ordinary citizens.

While some amenities like TV, games, and a small kitchen are available, Gorinov reports that prison officials still maintain stringent control over the unit, and he along with two others are subjected to special checks every two hours due to their “escape risk” status.

Health conditions are generally poor, with insufficient medical aid available. Sasha Skochilenko, a detained artist and musician with a congenital heart defect and celiac disease, faces struggles getting suitable food in the prison. Despite the relatively better conditions for women detainees, her partner, Sophia Subbotina, says a year of imprisonment has taken a significant toll on Skochilenko. The slow pace of her trial, compared to the typically swift proceedings for notable political activists, only adds to the uncertainty and stress of her situation. If convicted, Skochilenko could face up to 10 years in prison.

FAQ about Russian Political Prisoners