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English Language Page The Situation of Prisoners
The year 2001 saw the commissioning of dozens of regular penitentiary facilities and 28 high security penal institutions to keep 12000 convicts, as well as three medical treatment and rehabilitation detention centers to accommodate a total of 1 670 TB sufferers and drug addicts.
Notwithstanding, the issue of providing adequate accommodation for convicts and detainees under investigation continues to be rather pressing. Notably, the functional pretrial detention centers (SIZO) have been filled to 165.8% of their designed capacity levels. This situation is particularly desperate in St. Petersburg, Moscow, Nizhny Novgorod, Omsk, Samara, Tver, Tula and Leningrad regions as well as in the Chuvash and Karachaevo-Cherkessian Republics. Pretrial detention centers in 25 other Russian regions have been filled in excess of full-capacity levels by as much as 50%. Sixty percent of the available pretrial detention centers and facilities have fallen into a hazardous state of disrepair. Over 12% of Russia’s pretrial detention institutions are housed in XVII–XIX-century buildings, which had originally been erected to serve other purposes. What is more, 26 temporary detention center and prison buildings are now literally crumbling.
The situation regarding accommodations of convicts at high security prisons has gone from bad to worse. During the past year the total number of prisoners in this category has grown by 36.6% to reach 42 000, with an average monthly increase of 942 convicts.
Also, the sanitary and epidemiological situation in the penitentiary facilities run by the Ministry of Justice of the Russian Federation continues to be alarming. While general hospitals lack 12 000 beds for TB cases, specialized detainment facilities lack more than 14 000 beds. Overall, existing prison hospitals and outpatient clinics have been overloaded with a TB caseload of 15–20% (1).
As of January 1, 2002, the Penalty Implementation System’s (UIS) institutions had been populated as follows (see Table 1) (2):
all types of penal colonies — 747 000 (including 42 700 females, 18 600 minors, and 470 juniors in specialized childcare homes);
pretrial detention centers, remand prisons and detainment stations operating as temporary detention facilities — 219 000 detainees.
To underscore, remand prisons have been overloaded to 152.2% of their designed capacity.
The cost of daily meals per prisoner (covered by the federal budget) now stands at 20.1 roubles, with the same indicator being 15–17 roubles for the year 2001.
Table 1. Prisoner population dynamics for 2001
| February 1, 2001 | September 1, 2001 | Early 2002 | | Prisoner population total, Thousands) | 934 | 991 | 965 | | Per hundred thousand of general Russian population | 644 | 684 | 670 | | Total TB cases,thousands* | 84,4 | 86 | 88 | | Total HIV positive, thousands | 15,1 | 21,6 | 33 |
*Russian detention facilities account for 140 thousand TB cases, according to S. Sidorova, chief TB specialist, Chief Department of Penalty Implementation (GUIN), Ministry of Justice of the Russian Federation (3).
These statistics clearly indicate that the hopes of officials from the Chief Department of Penalty Implementation (GUIN) of the Ministry of Justice of the Russian Federation that the total prisoner population might be reduced by 200 000–250 000 following the passage of amendments to the RF Criminal Code and the RSFSR Criminal Procedure Code are unlikely to be met. A reduction in the size of the “special contingent” had been achieved by the close of last year merely through a scheduled amnesty being granted for female and under-aged prisoners. Despite any and all attempts on the part of GUIN personnel, the prisoner population has leveled out and even increased to a certain degree. The increase is a result of steadily rising crime rates in the country on the one hand, and law enforcers stubbornly continuing to be motivated by repressive attitudes on the other hand. The later circumstance only compounds the situation. This is not surprising when judicial reforms are carried out “from the top,” and civil society is left unengaged.
To illustrate Russian law enforcement attitudes, it would suffice to refer to V. Kolmogorov, Deputy Prosecutor General of the Russian Federation, who said, “We believe that foreigners who have committed crimes should be kept behind the bars.” Then, as if he was following up on V. Kolmogorov’s remarks, Yu. Shcherbanenko, head of the department responsible for compliance verification of criminal penalty implementations within the Prosecutor General’s Office of the Russian Federation, argued as follows, “If a foreigner has committed a misdemeanor, he should be taken into custody to avoid the risk of his escaping from the country. (4)” So, as one can see, the principle of feasibility appears to have totally prevailed over the rule of law. Notably, local investigators and judges have rather freely interpreted the law, with the prosecutor’s stance prevailing at all times.
The Constitutional Court of the Russian Federation points out, in particular, that Russian investigative and judicial authorities have been arbitrarily interpreting the provisions of Article 97 of the RSFSR Criminal Procedure Code as allowing for detention periods to be repeatedly extended beyond their prescribed time limits whenever a case happens to be filed for additional investigation. This measure is judged as unlawful by the Constitutional Court of the Russian Federation: “Expiration of a detention deadline shall mean that the given detention period shall not be extended and the accused person shall be immediately released, according to Part 3, Article 97 of the RSFSR Criminal Procedure Code (5).”
For example, G. Arkhipov was taken into custody on January 26, 1995, on the charge of committing felonies and very grave crimes and, at least, through the close of 2001 had been detained at a Yekaterinburg-based pretrial detention center (SIZO ¹1). A. Kozhanov, judge from the Sverdlovsk Regional Court, had the case repeatedly sent down for re-investigation citing numerous formal irregularities committed by the original investigators. Despite the fact that the prescribed deadline for G. Arkhipov’s detention had long since expired, he had never been released either by court or local prosecutor (6).
A record worthy of the Guinness Book of Records has been set in Moscow. M. Zvarykina, qualify as having category 1 disability as a result of gunshot wounds, had been kept in the local pretrial detention center (SIZO ¹6) from 1994 through early 2002, charged with committing a number of very grave crimes. Numerous attempts by defense attorneys to have the preventive punishment measure alleviated produced no desired change. In the spring of 2002, the defendant had a heart attack during a court hearing and was taken to the Butyrka (SIZO ¹1) hospital where she is now struggling for her life. Even then, the court would not rule to have the defendant released, because “M. Zvarykina would quickly get herself hospitalized.”
Before the provisions of Article 239.1 of the RSFSR Criminal Procedure Code entered into force on June 14, 2001, mandating six to nine month detention limits for any accused persons whose cases were adjudicated by the courts, large numbers of prisoners had been held in pretrial detention centers for much longer periods.
Understandably, the problem of Russian pretrial detention centers goes beyond intolerable living conditions and overcrowded wards. Arbitrary actions of wardens significantly compound the plight of persons under investigation. This is how A. Grebnev describes his being received by the St. Petersburg-based Kresty remand prison (7):
A few masked individuals welcomed us with a curt phrase, “No Geneva Conventions at Kresty.” Then, they used their batons and kicks to drive us into a “dog kennel.” Obviously, they moved professionally and effectively, with each new batch of prisoners apparently given the same kind of treatment. The “dog kennel” turned out to be a prison cell featuring a low-voltage electrical bulb and bumpy rough cement walls. Fixed along the walls were narrow benches, too high for one’s feet to touch the floor. Though the cell, indeed, was too small, it was made to hold 10–15 prisoners.
Following a brief stay in the “sitting dog kennel,” a prisoner is taken for a physical. V. Boikov (former high school principal and recipient of the title “Russia’s School Principal of the Year”) described this as follows:
I particularly recall a huge needle, measuring about five millimeters in diameter, which was used to draw blood for testing. To underscore, it was not an expendable syringe, and I could only hope that it had been properly sanitized before use. The blood tests notwithstanding, AIDS cases could exist in general prison wards. Should you happen to suffer from a minor ailment, you may ask for basic first aids items, expired antibiotics or yellowish-looking analgesic drugs. Should you have a sudden illness or emergency, the in-house paramedic will take an hour or longer to appear. The prison hospital differs from the regular wards by providing a slightly improved diet and more space, which actually works as medication.
Following a body search, a prisoner is normally photographed for the records. According to A. Grebnev:
The wardens do their best to search out and take away any valuables or foodstuffs (possession of which is not necessarily barred by law) that they want. I personally saw a prisoner who had his sausage provisions confiscated, the rationale being that sausage was not allowed in a prison ward. Given that the dispossessed items had never been documented, one can only guess where all those things have gone.
Then the prisoners, devoid of their personal effects, are taken to the so-called “sleeping dog kennel” designed with two tiers of bunks to hold more people. That ward certainly beats even the “sitting dog kennel” in terms of filth and stuffiness. The accused persons under investigation are generally compelled to spend up to several days in such intolerable conditions.
Next comes the bath facility. The Kresty bathhouse is a small room with shower heads right under the ceiling, with the shower-takers driven in for just a few minutes. The former Kresty inmates are rather certain that those showerheads spew heavily over-salted water taken from the local heating system. Should that be so, it is no wonder that prisoners normally suffer ulcer, skin irritation and itching. Apart from this bath house facility, the prison also features the so-called “roasting” bath house — a more or less decent facility with an anteroom made available for the inmates from the wards infested with lice and other bugs. With fleas in the wards being nearly ubiquitous, the “roasting” bath house services are reported to be often provided on a commercial basis.
In the first half of 2001, the St. Petersburg-based remand prisons saw as many as 30 inmates passing away, with 10 of those dying in July (8).
These statistics do not seem to be particularly shocking after you read this official document:
On August 28, 2001, the accused A. Babayan, born in 1958, was recorded by the IZ-99/1 penitentiary facility, run by the Chief Department of Penalty Implementation (GUIN) of the Ministry of Justice of the Russian Federation (generally referred to as SIZO “Butyrka”), with the following ailments: type 2 diabetes mellitus, cardiac decompensation, diabetic vasculitis and polyneuropathia, ischemia, arterosclerotic cardiosclerosis, 2nd-degree hypertension, 2nd-degree visceral obesity, pronounced sleeping apnea syndrome, chronic obstructive bronchitis, pulmonary emphysema and diffused pneumosclerosis.
Babayan is reported to be in relatively good condition. He has been cleared to receive the prescribed medications and dietary meals. Following consultation with doctors from the city hospital ¹20, A. Babayan was denied urgent hospitalization. His blood sugar content is being monitored on a regular basis.
To provide some background information, A. Babayan, a well-to-do person, was charged with the theft of a pair of blazers, an electrical kettle and a pair of second-hand shoes from a private apartment. Needed evidence for a trial was not collected within half a year (9).
It should also be added that those held in the Butyrka remand prison had their rights breached on a massive scale last fall, when the security regime was tightened following reception of a new warden and administration after a few daredevil escapes from the facility.
On Wednesday, October 24, 2001, the wards had been thoroughly searched during the second half of the day, with the inmates’ personal effects and medications confiscated. Notably, many of the prisoners had been severely beaten for disciplinary purposes. Any and all attempts made by the accused persons to stand up for their rights had been put in check either through the use of “physical coercion” or by confining some of the more stubborn resisters to the local “cooler” cell. At nightfall, when the inmates fell asleep, special police arrived and “introduced law and order” with their batons (10).
Minors held at pretrial detention centers are particularly hard pressed. By law, conditions for minors are supposed to be more liberal than for adult inmates. But teenagers are generally kept in the same conditions as adults, a circumstance most destructive for the physical and mental health of the younger people.
Within the half a year that he spent at the Saratov-based pretrial detention center, D. Kosov contracted hepatitis, TB, and an untreated wound of his eventually become gangrenous. D. Kosov was allegedly guilty of stealing a jacket from a school coatroom in order to sell it at the local open-air market.
Marina N. from the Ryazan-based correctional facility wrote:
Whenever we misbehaved at the correctional facility, the wardens would just let their hands loose. They would start groping or spanking us. I do not know what else to say. Anyway, nobody would understand what we have been through. You just have to experience the whole thing: the attitudes, the food, the awful environment.
Nastya R. from the same Ryazan correctional colony had this to say:
We needed to be moved. The prison truck took two hours to take us to the railroad station where we boarded a special rail car to finally reach Yaroslavl after a seemingly endless three days. At the trans-shipment facility, I was taken into a small-sized cell holding only a toilet and a bench. The cement floor was covered with dirt. I spent four days there, in the company of older women who continuously swore and used expletives. We had to take turns to grab a nap. Within those four days I had just three short naps. One old woman infested me with lice. Luckily, shortly afterwards I managed to get rid of them.
Then, I was moved to the Ryazan pretrial detention center, which was really nothing less than a nightmare: I had to sleep on the floor for two months (11).
Given this evidence, one can conclude that neither international standards nor Federal Law “On Detaining Persons Suspected or Accused of Committing Crimes” have been fully observed across Russia. Inmates at most of the pretrial detention facilities are unable to exercise proclaimed rights.
One of the reasons that detainees are treated in this way by the remand prison administrations is that Russian pretrial detention centers are part of the Penalty Implementation System (UIS). Thus, those yet to be tried by a court of law are handled as convicts from the very start. Here, we shall not elaborate upon the fact that such kind of treatment is by no means acceptable in relation to convicted prisoners either (that goes without saying), but we shall only emphasize that this sort of practice prevent the presumption of innocence principle from being appropriately introduced and applied throughout the country. The Ministry of Justice of the Russian Federation could change the overall situation by ruling to create a specific division for pretrial detention facilities, which would be responsible for running all domestic pre-trial prisons, including those currently maintained by the Federal Security Service of the Russian Federation (12).
The latter category of remand prisons deserves a special mention. When she joined the Council of Europe, the Russian Federation committed itself to meeting all requirements contained in the 1996 Statement ¹196 passed by the Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe. Russia then vowed to “review Federal Law “On the Federal Security Service of the Russian Federation” within a year, to bring it in line with the guidelines and rules established by the Council of Europe, and to take away the right of the Federal Security Service to run its own pretrial detention facilities” (see Article 10 (xvii)) (13). Alas, that vow is yet to be fulfilled, and the very topic of having FSB remand prisons turned over to some other governmental agency actually appears to be a taboo subject with government officials. Particularly striking has been the reluctance of FSB authorities to live up to official commitments. The Moscow-based Lefortovo FSB remand prison happens to be in the same block of buildings that houses the FSB investigative division. Denying investigators the opportunity to coerce the detainees under investigation has been the principal motivation for the European community to demand that Russian pretrial detention facilities be removed from under the auspices of special services.
Indeed, the living conditions at Lefortovo are much better than those maintained either by the Butyrka or Matrosskaya Tishina prisons. However, this is what V. Trofimov (former head of State Duma Committee for International Affairs who was charged with taking a bribe) has to say about his stay at Lefortovo for a year and a half. He had also been kept for a few months at the Tver pretrial detention center, where conditions are reported to be nearly the worst in the country:
The situation regarding human rights at those facilities is just atrocious. It needs to be pointed out, however, that Lefortovo has its own specific features. Having experienced the coercive techniques applied by the Lefortovo investigators, I would prefer a common ward at a regular prison.
Trofimov got the impression that the Lefortovo investigators were committed to securing the wanted evidence. To achieve that goal, “stool-pigeon” strategy has invariably been used.
Those guys would normally be FSB agents adorned with sophisticated tattoos who introduced themselves as regular felons or repeat criminals. Of course, each of them would have his own tale to tell. At Lefortovo, they have you pressured more closely than elsewhere. To point out, while they kept me there, I participated in the 1999 parliamentary elections and could roughly tell how many inmates were there at the time. In my judgment, the total was somewhere within a hundred, with 30–40 of those apparently playing “stool-pigeons.”
One of my “stool-pigeons” would tell me all about his attempts to commit suicide and about how to do that the easiest possible way. Getting detainees to become despondent appears to be one of the local tactics. But of course, this is impossible to prove. That was just my perception. Judge for yourself: they keep you in a cell for five days. You feel thirsty all the time. You cannot drink the tap water because it is filthy. You just have to wait for your “cup of tea,” with the kettle of boiled water provided in the morning and evening hours. When I stayed in that cell, I was nearly overwhelmed by depression. One day, when I had my wife visiting me, they brought me my meal into the cell. Being suspicious of prison food, I would not touch it. But on that particular day, it occurred to me to pass the untouched plate over to my neighbor who suffered from lack of food particularly badly. As he voraciously emptied the plate, my neighbor (who used to call himself a member of the Russian Olympic team in freestyle wrestling) all of a sudden collapsed on the floor and just uttered a few words to say that he was choking (14).
The effort to soften the regulations for convicts serving sentences for petty misdemeanors, moderately serious crimes or felonies committed through carelessness is one of the principal aims pursued to have the Russian penitentiary system humanized and liberalized. The softer-regime facilities available in the Russian Penalty Implementation system are the so-called settler-colonies. Admittedly, the living conditions there can hardly be regarded as fully humane either.
For example, Viktor S. from the UKh-16/13 facility wrote:
Given my exemplary conduct and good work at my original penitentiary facility, the local warden ruled to have me moved to the nearby settler-colony. Such a colony is generally believed to be an easy-regime prison, exclusively designed for those inmates who have firmly embarked on the path of correcting their ways. Unfortunately, my new abode does not live up to its name of settler-colony because people here are treated like cattle.
During a two-week quarantine, they made us clean up and sanitize the latrines. We were treated like slaves. Following the quarantine, I was assigned to work at the pre-fabricated housing unit facility.
We work 12-hour shifts six days a week. The cost of our daily meals is 35 roubles. This amount is broken into two segments, for us to have meals at 12.00 and 16.00 hours. If you want any extras, just pay with your own roubles. But those roubles are impossible to earn. The prevailing conditions seem to be urging the “settlers” to commit new crimes. Either you suffer from hunger or should be prepared to get a new prison sentence. The choice, of course, is limited, but I have not seen any fellows risking to be thrown back into a prison cell.
The living conditions are just awful. The floors are not painted, and running water is often unavailable. Notably, our hard-earned roubles reportedly go to pay for the utilities.
What is more, it is only in theory that we have the right to visit our friends and family. In practice, we would always have a “heightened-alert” regime on the national days and holidays. Should there be a threat of hostage-taking in Moscow, down here at Omsk we would immediately have a “red-alert” status implemented. To underscore, when President Putin arrived in Novosibirsk for a brief visit, we had “increased-readiness” conditions introduced. Should some unstable “settler” lose his equilibrium because of all that hypersensitivity and just try to escape, we would each time get a new alert. Admittedly, there have been many who tried to escape, but they would inevitably be caught and thrown into a penalty box where they would be savagely beaten with feet and wooden hammers.
Recently, I (just like many of my friends) received notification from the colony administration demanding that I should repay my debt of 1 600 roubles. But I had no such debt a short while ago. That insolent letter outraged my relatives. Then, the debt was somewhat reduced. However, I still owe them 1 000 roubles, and I do not know where to obtain that much money.
Because of this debt, I am not allowed to see my family. Is that the way the law should be applied? Though we are allowed to have television sets and music players, we keep none of those. The colony guards would even take away our water heaters and iron spoons. We do not have any personal possessions. The ongoing tensions, fault-finding inspections and penalty-box scares just drive me crazy. People here are all on edge, and they forgot how to smile.
It is absolutely pointless to appeal to the Omsk-based supervisory prosecutor. Should someone send out an appeal, he would be immediately locked up in the penalty box and brutally punished. Sometimes, it occurs to me that the Omsk prosecutor might be corrupted by the local wardens. After all, one can hardly believe that such preposterous and appalling things can transpire at our colony without the supervisory prosecutor being aware of them.
I am writing this letter to the Prosecutor General of the Russian Federation to request a review of these facts. Many are afraid of the colony authorities and just keep silent. However, there will be other prisoners who will be brave enough to confirm and develop the evidence presented here (15).
Last year’s major event, which served to radically impinge on prisoners’ rights, was an official drive launched to defame and eventually do away with the Presidential Amnesty Commission that included high-profile members of the Russian intellectual milieu receiving no compensation for their services. One of the elements of that drive was the October 20, 2000 Directive (¹8909-YuK) “On Compiling Amnesty Materials” (distributed to the regional penalty implementation authorities) by the Deputy Minister of Justice Yu. Kalinin. There, penitentiary facility’s administrations were effectively denied the right to request parent authorities that convicts who served less than half their prison sentences for committing grave crimes (just as the convicts who served less that two thirds of their sentences for committing very grave crimes) be amnestied. On January 13, 2001, a circular letter designed to warn the regional penalty implementation division heads of “personal accountability for their performance” backed the aforesaid directive. It required that they should assure personal compliance verification and radically bring down the numbers of prison warden requests for selected convicts to be amnestied.”
The provisions of these two documents are radically at odds with Part 3, Article 50 of the RF Constitution, which is intended to enable any and all convicts to request their sentences to be either abrogated or commuted, irrespective of the gravity of the crime and time already served. What is more, these documents contradict Clause “v,” Article 89 of the RF Constitution, which give exclusive rights to the President of the Russian Federation to authorize amnesty or pardons of selected convicts.
(1) “Principal Results Achieved in 2001 by the Penalty Implementation System of the Ministry of Justice of the Russian Federation.” Vedomosti UIS (2002, ¹2, p. 74–75). V. Yalunin, “Proper UIS Operations to be Assured.” Vedomosti UIS (2002, ¹2, p. 10).
(2) According to the data released by the Center for Assisting the Effort to Reform Criminal Justice (:http://www.prison.org).
(3) N. Khmelik, “TB: Everybody Knows How to Spend.” Grani.Ru (June 4, 2001).
(4) S. Khazova, “SIZO Detainees Complain about Foot-Dragging.” Nezavisimaya Gazeta (2001, ¹70).
(5) Excerpt from the December 7, 2001 Determination by the Constitutional Court of the Russian Federation (¹261-O) on the appeals by G. Arkhipov and I. Shcherbakov against their constitutional rights being breached following application of Part 7, Article 97 of the RSFSR Criminal Procedure Code.
(6) A. Sidorov, “Six Years Make a Legal Lesson Rather than a Prison Sentence.” Parlamentskaya Gazeta (2001, ¹646); O. Mironov, “Facts Confirmed.” Parlamentskaya Gazeta (2001, ¹758).
(7) M. Panchenko, “Holidays at Kresty.” Versiya (2001, ¹3).
(8) R. Linkov, “Pasta for President.” Obshchaya Gazeta (2001, ¹34).
(9) D. Logachev, “Sanatorium Behind Bars.” Trud (2001, ¹194).
(10) O. Lurye, “Those Remaining Taking Punishment for the Escapees.” Novaya Gazeta (2001, ¹79).
(11) Yu. Kholodova, “Kids Behind Bars: It Could not be Worse.” Parlamentskaya Gazeta (2001, ¹109). Excerpts have been taken from a few written accounts by under-aged convicts and made available for a contest run by the Center for Assisting the Reform of Criminal Justice.
(12) V. Andreev, “Behind Bars without Court Trial.” Rossiyskaya Gazeta (2001, ¹172).
(13) Russian Human Rights Bulletin (1998, ¹10).
(14) Z. Svetova, “Prison by Statute.” Novye Izvestia (2001, ¹123).
(15) Yu. Azman, “Starving Colony.” Moskovsky Komsomolets (2001, ¹189).
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