He was released from a Russian prison and fought in Ukraine with the promise of freedom, redemption and money. Now Andrey Yastrebov, who was among tens of thousands of once-convicted soldiers, is part of a wave of returnees from the battlefield with potentially serious consequences for Russian society.

A. Yastrebov, 22 years old, who was serving a sentence for theft, returned to his homeland completely different. “We all feel like he’s in some kind of trance, like he’s a different person,” said the relative, who spoke on condition of anonymity for fear of reprisals. “He doesn’t seem to have any emotions.”

According to Russian human rights activists and Ukrainian officials, thousands of convicts were killed, many within days or hours of arriving at the front. Those who survive and return home are mostly silent, fearing retribution if they speak.

Human rights activists and legal experts say President Vladimir Putin’s decision to allow a group of mercenaries to recruit Russian prisoners to support his shaky military campaign marks a turning point in his 23-year rule. This policy takes precedence over any Russian legal precedent and forgives criminals who return to their homes. However, in this context, the danger of crime in society increases, which underlines the high price that the See is willing to pay. Putin to avoid defeat.

40,000 prisoners joined the Russian troops

Some 40,000 prisoners have joined Russian forces since July, according to Western intelligence agencies, the Ukrainian government and the prisoner rights group Russia Behind Bars, which collects whistleblower reports from all Russian prisons. Ukraine claims that around 30,000 deserted or were killed or wounded, although this number cannot be independently verified.

Most of the recruits have served time for petty crimes such as robbery and theft, but prison records obtained by The New York Times also show men who have been convicted of aggravated rape and multiple murders are being recruited.

“There are no more crimes and no more punishments,” said Olga Romanova, head of Russia Behind Bars. “Now everything is allowed, and this has very far-reaching consequences for every country.”

More than six months ago, Russia’s largest mercenary organization, Wagner, and its founder, Yevgeny Prigozhin, began systematically recruiting convicts on a scale not seen since World War II to support their bloody attack on the Ukrainian town of Bakhmut. However, the operation remains largely shrouded in secrecy and propaganda.

According to human rights activists and lawyers, Wagner managed to avoid “publicity” by exploiting the most marginalized citizens of Russia, namely the 350,000 prisoners of the colony.

Returned with medals and awards

Dozens of survivors from the first battalions of prisoners began returning to Russia this month with medals, awards and documents that Wagner claims give them freedom. These services are likely to intensify as the organization’s six-month contracts expire, which could challenge Russian society to reintegrate thousands of wounded with military training, criminal records and limited job prospects.

“These are psychologically broken people who return with a sense of justice, a belief that they killed to defend their homeland,” says Yana Gelmel, a Russian prisoner rights lawyer. “Perhaps they are very dangerous people.”

Neither G. Prigozhin, through his press service, nor the Federal Penitentiary Service of Russia were available for comment.

To document the recruitment campaign, The Times interviewed human rights activists, lawyers, relatives of conscripts, deserters and prisoners who chose to remain behind bars while maintaining contact with their comrades on the front lines of the war.

They described the complex system that Wagner built on Kremlin-backed incentives and violence to replenish his devastated military lines with controversial and possibly illegal methods.

“Keep on until you die”

Andrei Medvedev said he joined Wagner a few days after serving a prison sentence for theft. A former prisoner with military experience, he says he was assigned a team of prisoners sent on a “suicide mission” in the Bahamut area.

We were told, “Keep going until you die,” Medvedev said in a telephone interview from Russia after his November escape. He has since fled to Norway and applied for political asylum.

In videos posted on social media, Prigozhin promised the prisoners to receive 100,000 rubles a month—the equivalent of $1,700 at the time, almost double the average monthly salary in Russia. He also offered an $80,000 bravery bonus in compensation for the deaths and, if they survived the six-month draft contract, freedom in the form of a presidential amnesty. At the same time, he warned that those who violated it, consumed alcohol and drugs or had sexual relations, would be killed.

“There is no chance of returning to prison,” G. Prigozhin said, speaking to prisoners in September. “Those who go there and say, ‘I think I’m in the wrong place,’ will be declared deserters and executed.”

A former prisoner himself, Prigozhin is well aware of prison culture, skillfully combining the threat of punishment with the promise of a new, dignified life, human rights activists and families of prisoners say.

“He didn’t go for money, he was very proud of them,” Anastasia said about a relative who signed up for Wagner. “He left because he was ashamed, he wanted to clear his name in front of his mother.”

G. Prigozhin’s visits to the prison immediately raised legal questions. Recruiting mercenaries is illegal in Russia, and until last year he denied the organization existed.

On paper, the detainees had never been to the war, they were simply transferred to Russian prisons near the border with Ukraine, according to information requests submitted by their relatives.

When Anastasia, who asked not to be named, tried to find out where her imprisoned relative was, officials simply told her that he was unavailable.

Igor Matyukin, 26, a convicted Siberian bandit with no family, was serving his third term in far-flung Krasnoyarsk Territory when Prigozhin arrived by helicopter in November, offering him his freedom in exchange for military service.

Climate of fear

Inspired by the possibility of a new life, I. Matyukin immediately signed. A few days later he was in a training camp near the occupied Ukrainian city of Lukansk. According to him, what he encountered there had nothing to do with the “group of patriots” he expected to find.

I. Matyukin described the atmosphere of fear that Wagner inspired so that the convicts would continue to fight. He said he was threatened with summary execution, and at least one member of his unit was fired for disobeying orders and never returned.

When the Ukrainians suddenly attacked his training camp, I. Matyukin took the opportunity to escape, taking advantage of the turmoil. He said he has since been trying to return to his prison from a safe house in Russia. A relative of I. Matyukin confirmed that he signed up for Wagner, but other aspects of his report cannot be verified by other independent sources.

To support the reduction in the number of recruiters, Wagner releases videos of returning and pardoned prisoners.

“I needed talents to kill the enemy in the war,” G. Prigogine said in the video. “Those of you who want to return, we are waiting for you to return. Who wants to get married, be baptized, study – fulfill our desires.

In some videos, detainees are given documents on pardon or removal of a criminal record. However, none of these documents have been made public, raising questions about their legitimacy. Human rights activists say amnesties are rare, time-consuming and complex legal procedures that have never been used in Russia on a scale approaching what Wagner promises.

Only Vl. Putin can pardon under the Constitution of the Russian Federation, and the Kremlin has not issued such decrees since 2020. In 2021, Vl. According to the Kremlin, Putin pardoned only six people.

Pardoned “with strict observance of Russian law”

Press Secretary Vl. Putin, Dmitry Peskov, told reporters on Friday that the convicted Wagner soldiers were pardoned “in strict accordance with Russian law.” He declined to comment further, suggesting the process was a state secret. “There are decrees both open and secret,” he said.

According to Russian law, all petitions for pardon before entering the Kremlin are considered by specialized regional commissions. However, two members of such commissions stated that they had not received applications from convicted soldiers. One of these officials represents the city of St. Petersburg, the residence of A. Yastrebov.

Human rights activists say the ambiguous legal status of the returning prisoners is undermining the Russian justice system and linking their fate to that of Wagner.

After spending only three weeks in his homeland, the convict A. Yastrebov said that he was already preparing to return to the front, despite the high losses of his unit, Rossiya Behind Bars reports. “I want to defend the Motherland,” he said in a brief interview on Friday. “I liked everything there. Civil life is boring.”

Source: New York Times.