In recent months, reports have increasingly emerged that people persecuted on political charges are being regularly placed in punishment isolation cells — known as SHIZO. This has affected not only Alexei Navalny, who has already spent 226 days in SHIZO, but also deputy Alexei Gorinov, politician Vladimir Kara-Murza, left-wing activist Darya Polyudova, journalist Maria Ponomarenko, Masha Moskaleva's father Alexei, and other prisoners.
Lawyers, human rights defenders, and journalists are sounding the alarm: this confirms that since the start of the war, the treatment of political prisoners has worsened. OVD-Info has compiled all known cases of prisoners being held in SHIZO in 2023. We report on how many days they spent there, for what "violations" they are sent there, and what consequences a placement in SHIZO carries even after release.
In 2023, at least 40 people convicted on politically motivated charges were sent to SHIZO. On average, they spent 15 days there. Many were placed in isolation multiple times — in total we know of 82 such cases, with the duration known for 65 of them. In total in 2023, political prisoners spent 1,015 days in SHIZO — that is, almost three years.
In 2023, defendants in "Hizb ut-Tahrir" cases were most frequently placed in SHIZO — at least 13 people are known. Those convicted in "Jehovah's Witnesses" cases were also held in punishment isolation cells — no fewer than 6 people in 2023. Among defendants in the "anti-war case," at least four people were held in SHIZO, each more than once:
Alexei Moskalev — 5 times;
Alexei Gorinov — 3 times;
Maria Ponomarenko — 3 times;
Vladimir Kara-Murza — 2 times.
Despite the maximum permitted period in SHIZO being 15 days, many were held there for months: the terms were regularly extended on the pretext of various violations. Thus, Muslim Aliev, a defendant in the Yalta "Hizb ut-Tahrir" case, spent a total of at least 120 days in SHIZO in 2023.
Timur Yalkabov, a defendant in the third Simferopol "Hizb ut-Tahrir" case, spent around 87 days in SHIZO.
Also among the "record-holders" is Vladimir Domnin, a defendant in the "Right Sector" case, sentenced to 9 years in a strict-regime colony: in 2023 he was sent to SHIZO 8 times for a total of 69 days. Former head of the Serpukhov district of the Moscow region, Alexander Shestun, ended up in punishment isolation 6 times and spent more than 60 days there.
Formally, people are sent to SHIZO for violating internal regulations, but in practice colony staff can use any pretext to isolate a prisoner. Here are the most common reasons political prisoners were placed in SHIZO in 2023 (based on cases where the reason is known):
— sitting on the bed during prohibited hours (at least 8 times);
— incorrectly identifying oneself to a colony officer (at least 5 times);
— refusing to work (at least 4 times).
Accurate data on the time political prisoners spend in SHIZO is difficult to collect. Convicted persons do not always have the opportunity to speak about their conditions of detention, and federal agencies are becoming increasingly secretive: the Federal Penitentiary Service (FSIN) has stopped publishing even archived data on the prison population.
The punishment isolation cell is located in the colony to which a person is sent after conviction and appeal. People are placed there for a period of 3 to 15 days, but this term can be extended multiple times. What is SHIZO? Political prisoners who have already been released describe it.
"I was in a cell where there was no hot water; the toilet was near the food area and was not separated from the main part of the cell by partitions. Two surveillance cameras monitored the entire SHIZO perimeter, including the toilet; there was no call button for guards; ventilation was not working, the temperature in the room was high and subjectively uncomfortable; rodents entered the room." This is an excerpt from the complaint of civic activist Konstantin Kotov, convicted under the "Dadon article." He was sentenced first to four, and then to one and a half years in a colony for participating in peaceful protests — the sentence was changed following an appeal. After the verdict he was transferred to IK-2 in Pokrov; he was released in December 2020.
"It is a room no bigger than your bathroom: a couple of steps in one direction, a couple of steps back. Mine [in SHIZO] was six steps long and four steps wide," recalls Andrei Borovikov, a participant in protests against the construction of a landfill at Shies station and former head of Navalny's office in Arkhangelsk. He was sentenced to 2.5 years in a colony for posting a Rammstein music video for the song "Pussy" and was transferred to IK-7 in the Arkhangelsk region, where he was regularly placed in SHIZO. Borovikov was released in May 2023.
"They let you out of that cell for only one hour a day for a walk in a courtyard that is the same size as the [SHIZO] cell, maybe smaller. All the remaining time you spend in the cell where there is practically nothing: there is a metal table, a bench or a stool. And... a shkjonka, I don't know what else to call it. It's a contraption you sleep on, which is chained to the wall during the day. That's it. And you're barely allowed to bring anything into the cell besides writing materials, soap, toothpaste, and a toothbrush," says Ivan Astashin, a human rights defender and participant in the "Zone of Solidarity" project. In 2012 he was sentenced to 13 years in a strict-regime colony under the "ABTO case," the sentence was later reduced to 9 years and 9 months. Astashin was transferred to IK-17 in the Krasnoyarsk Territory, where he was placed in SHIZO more than 20 times. He was released in September 2020.
"In the cell there is a small table, sometimes it's just a shelf bolted to the wall that can only fit one plate. An imitation of a stool and a bunk that folds down at night. My main problem is a bad back. Sitting all day really hurts. Same with standing. So I would periodically lie on the floor. The floor is terribly cold even in summer, but you need to change position. Lying down in SHIZO is forbidden. But at that point I no longer cared," writes Olga Bendas, a defendant in the "Palace case." After her sentence — 2 years in a colony — she was transferred to IK-3 in the Ivanovo region and constantly sent to punishment isolation. Bendas was released in August 2022.
In SHIZO, prisoners are deprived of visits from relatives, cannot receive parcels, use personal belongings, or see a doctor. It is even forbidden to smoke during the walk, recalls Kotov: "These are practically the most restrictive conditions that can exist for a person held in a place of detention."
All of OVD-Info's sources say that the main hardship in SHIZO is the cold. "The temperature there is approximately 17-18 degrees Celsius. The trick is that when you're at that temperature for a day, two days, three days, you really feel your body freezing up. All you want is to warm up," says Andrei Borovikov.
Ivan Astashin recalls his days in the SHIZO of the Krasnoyarsk colony: "First you walk around the cell to warm up your feet. Your feet warm up — your head gets cold, so you pull your sweatshirt over your head. You warm up your head — your feet are cold again."
Crimean journalist and human rights defender Lutfiye Zudiyeva told OVD-Info about what is happening to Emil Djemadenov — a defendant in the Simferopol "Hizb ut-Tahrir" case, sentenced to 11.5 years in a strict-regime colony. "For the 21st century this sounds very frightening. Emil's wife said that when her husband is in SHIZO, he is forced to constantly change his socks: they get wet because the person is in a damp concrete room. Health deteriorates rapidly in such conditions," says Zudiyeva.
One of the few rights that a prisoner retains in SHIZO is the ability to meet with a lawyer. In addition, prisoners in isolation are allowed to read books and spend one hour a day responding to letters, says Konstantin Kotov.
SHIZO is a tool of pressure on prisoners. Colony administrations want convicted persons to comply with any demands, even illegal ones, and not to attempt to defend their rights, explains Sergei Davidis, head of the "Support for Political Prisoners. Memorial" project. Olga Bendas says the same: the woman, according to her own account, was regularly sent to SHIZO for "denial of the regime." On principle, she refused to work for FSIN for an average salary of 200 rubles per month.
Colony staff find it easy to find a pretext to place a prisoner in isolation. Often, entirely trivial violations are used for this purpose. For example, Andrei Borovikov was sent to SHIZO for drinking water too slowly and for putting an unfinished piece of bread in his pocket, while Konstantin Kotov was sent there for identifying himself incorrectly. "It is precisely for such reasons that people are formally sent to SHIZO. In practice, almost no one follows these rules: there are so many of them and they are so hard to keep track of that they are violated everywhere. But if the administration [of the colony] wants to find fault with you and worsen your conditions, it will use this," says Kotov.
There are no documented criteria by which one can assess the severity of a violation and decide whether to send a person to SHIZO, explains OVD-Info lawyer Vladimir Bilienko, who defends Alexei Moskalev. "It is the officer who writes the report and sends it to the commission, where the decision on sending the convict to SHIZO is made. How the 'violation' is assessed is highly subjective. An officer, especially if specifically instructed by his superior, can turn a prisoner's life into something resembling hell," says Bilienko.
Particularly 'inconvenient' prisoners may be subjected to repeated transfers to SHIZO at the request of high-ranking officials — including those in government and law enforcement, suggests an employee of the "Support for Political Prisoners. Memorial" project who wished to remain anonymous. "Perhaps this is a request from above: in the case of Navalny and Kara-Murza it may be directly linked to Putin. Or to other high-ranking people who have had problems because of anti-corruption investigations or falling under sanctions. In some cases, it may be departmental interests, as with [deputy Alexei] Gorinov and [Moscow State University PhD student Azat] Miftakhov. One can bring new criminal charges again and again, but the simplest thing is to place someone in SHIZO and report that the person is maximally repressed," the human rights defender notes.
Colony staff are wary of prisoners with media prominence and public support, says Sergei Davidis: "For fear that something might happen, that they might be reprimanded for a prisoner's public statements from within the colony. Often preventively, as happened with Vladimir Kara-Murza for example, they send him to SHIZO. In this way they demonstrate, presumably, that they are not enabling [the prisoner's communication with the outside world] and have taken all measures possible," the human rights defender suggested.
Another goal of a SHIZO placement is to worsen conditions of detention. If a prisoner is frequently placed in isolation, they can be declared a "persistent violator" and the regime can be tightened.
This is what happened to Andrei Borovikov. He was sent to SHIZO four times for minor "violations" that other prisoners committed without consequences, after which he was transferred to SUS — strict conditions of detention. Prisoners there spend up to 9 months: they are kept in separate cells in a barracks cordoned off from the residential zone, and cannot apply for parole.
"Administration staff said: 'This is an order from above, sorry about that, Andrei. We were told to transfer you to strict conditions to place you under supervision upon release.' And that's what they did," Borovikov emphasized.
Other options for worsening conditions include: the PKT (cell-type premises), and then the EPKT, unified cell-type premises. The EPKT is called a "prison within a prison": "It is a separate 'closed' zone for 'persistent violators' that is created and operates according to its own rules."
The consequences of being sent to SHIZO, SUS, PKT, and EPKT follow the convict even after release: it becomes grounds for administrative supervision. For example, Andrei Borovikov was assigned two years of supervision: twice a month he goes to the police to check in, while Ivan Astashin was assigned administrative supervision for 8 years. After his release, pressure on Astashin continued: he was questioned by officers of the Center "E"; police visited both his parents and the landlady of the room he was renting.
Before the start of the war in Ukraine, the state tried not to imprison women persecuted on political charges in colonies, notes Sergei Davidis, head of the "Support for Political Prisoners. Memorial" project. Now it happens more often.
"With the start of the war, the patriarchal standards of a certain leniency of the authorities toward women began to crumble. And since a woman, just like a man, represents a threat to the authorities, these sentiments are cast aside: women are also sentenced to long terms of imprisonment," says the human rights defender.
There is a difference — and a very significant one — between punishment isolation cells in men's and women's colonies. "Men's and women's camps are like night and day. A women's camp is hell in the literal sense of the word, and SHIZO in a women's camp is hell within hell," says Olga Bendas, a defendant in the "Palace case."
While men are permitted to remain in the punishment isolation cell in their clothing, women in SHIZO are literally stripped: according to Bendas, they are held there in underwear, a nightshirt, and rubber sandals. "Imagine being put outside in underwear and a nightshirt in winter for 15 days. The temperature [in the SHIZO cell] is exactly the same," she says. Here is how the woman describes one more round of 15 days in isolation, which turned out to be the most terrifying of her entire time in the colony:
"It was May. It had seemingly warmed up a little, so the heating was turned off — spring has arrived. And then snow falls, we're back to winter weather. In the residential zone everyone puts on their heavy coats, warm headscarves, boots. And they lock me in SHIZO: by the second day I was already saying goodbye to life. To say it was cold is to say nothing.
You can't sit on anything because everything is ice-cold: a metal stool and a metal table, bolted to the floor. From not moving, the body swells, blood stops circulating — it doesn't warm you. Cramps all over my body, I couldn't straighten up: hunched on my knees, I sat like that for 15 days.
After lights out, they bring in a mattress, you lie down to sleep. But everything is so ice-cold that the [cold] problem is barely solved. Together with that nightshirt we were given two waffle towels about 30 by 30 cm. And I, trying to warm myself, tried to wrap these towels around my feet, so that at least at night the cramps wouldn't come. You barely wrap them, just lie down, but they all unravel — and so the entire night that's all you do, wind towels around your legs. Those were the most terrifying 15 days: they literally carried me out of there."
Another problem one can encounter in SHIZO is violence. Surveillance cameras do not help in this regard, says Olga Bendas: "We are always under cameras, but they can do anything to you and then simply erase that recording. Who are you going to prove anything to? These cameras are not for us, these cameras are for them."
Sasha Graf, the author of the podcast "Women's Sentence," notes that the scale of violence in women's colonies is less known than in men's colonies because women have less support. "About five percent have paid lawyers who can regularly visit the prisoner and defend her rights. On their own, women find it difficult to do this — if you write a complaint, the administration finds out and you can be sent to SHIZO. Women are left alone with the FSIN system, with nothing to pit against this enormous machine," says Graf.
According to her, the most common reason for sending women to SHIZO is refusal to work. "You have to understand that female prisoners are essentially in slavery to FSIN, working double shifts, earning pennies, working themselves to exhaustion. At some point the body simply gives out, and if you dare to defy the staff, that's a direct path to punishment isolation," explains the author of "Women's Sentence."
Another reason for sending women to SHIZO is the intimidation of prisoners who are in romantic relationships, says Graf: "Usually staff turn a blind eye, especially since women often manage to hide it. But at the right moment, staff can use this as a motive. And the threat of SHIZO, or actually placing someone there, can also be used to pressure a prisoner's partner."
In 2023, at least two women persecuted for political reasons were placed in SHIZO: the founder of "Left Resistance," Darya Polyudova, and journalist of the RusNews project Maria Ponomarenko.
Polyudova is serving a 9-year sentence at IK-4 in Kabardino-Balkaria. She reported that upon her arrival a razor blade was planted on her, so she declared a hunger strike. Despite this, the activist was placed in SHIZO — because of the razor blade and one other violation, as recounted by her mother Tatiana Polyudova. This became the grounds for transferring Darya to SUS for six months.
In a conversation with OVD-Info, Tatiana Polyudova shared that during a recent visit with her daughter they spoke about the planted razor blade and SHIZO. She relayed Darya's words: "Mom, I've never even seen how they make them [razor blades] in the colony, they must be extracted from somewhere. Probably from safety razors, I don't know."
Activist and journalist Maria Ponomarenko was sentenced to 6 years in a colony on charges of "military fakes" (paragraph "d", part 2, art. 207.3 of the Criminal Code). The grounds were a post about the bombing of the drama theatre in Mariupol by Russian military forces.
During the period of pre-verdict detention, she endured placement in a psychiatric hospital and a punishment cell, a nervous breakdown, and a suicide attempt. Almost immediately after arriving at IK-6 in the Altai Territory, she was sent to SHIZO on the basis of three reports. The first report was for insulting colony officers. The second was filed when Ponomarenko fainted: she was accused of violating the colony regime since she was lying down during the day. After fainting, Ponomarenko received no medical assistance. The third report was filed after she could not get out of bed due to lower back pain when ordered to do so by a female officer.
Ponomarenko was initially assigned 15 days in punishment isolation, then another 10. In addition, letters are not delivered to her, medical care is not provided, and she is not permitted to pass statements about violations by colony staff to lawyer Dmitri Shitov, who works with OVD-Info. On October 17, it became known that the journalist had once again been placed in punishment isolation for 15 days.
"Hizb ut-Tahrir" is an Islamist party that the Supreme Court declared a terrorist organization in 2003. Human rights defenders stress that the court's ruling contains no evidence of the organization's terrorist activity. The ruling became grounds for prosecuting alleged followers in Russia and in annexed Crimea. In particular, this affected Crimean Tatars. At least 335 people are being prosecuted in connection with alleged membership in "Hizb ut-Tahrir," according to "Support for Prisoners. Memorial." The majority of them — 271 — have been convicted: 128 received sentences of 10 to 15 years, 115 received sentences of 15 years or more.
According to OVD-Info data, in 2023 defendants in "Hizb ut-Tahrir" cases were placed in SHIZO almost every month: some were not released for months, with the terms regularly extended.
The first reports of defendants in Crimean "Hizb ut-Tahrir" cases being placed in SHIZO began appearing as early as 2019–2020, says local journalist and human rights defender Lutfiye Zudiyeva. "Those were the stories of Teymur Abdullayev and Emil Djemadenov; lawyers for a long time tried to contest [their placement in isolation]. And these were the first instances of such a practice in the colonies. Now it has become practically routine. We regularly receive messages from relatives and lawyers of prisoners in this category of cases that they are being placed in SHIZO. I believe that after 2022 this practice has intensified," Zudiyeva notes.
Defendants in "Hizb ut-Tahrir" cases are usually charged under the serious article on a terrorist organization (parts 1 and 2, art. 205.5 of the Criminal Code), so it is easier to place them in SHIZO: this way colony staff report to the security services that the convicts are under special monitoring, while also fulfilling their "quota" for the number of prisoners sent to isolation, says Zudiyeva.
According to her, placement in SHIZO may be linked to a refusal to cooperate with the security services: this is what happened with Teymur Abdullayev, who has been in custody since 2016 — he was sentenced to 16.5 years in a strict-regime colony and transferred to IK-2 in Bashkortostan. When FSB officers came to the colony and demanded that Abdullayev testify against other Crimean residents, he refused. After this, the man began to be regularly sent to SHIZO. As of October 26, 2023, Abdullayev had spent 874 days there. Lutfiye Zudiyeva adds: "He practically lives in the punishment isolation cell. They bring him out for a while when publications appear in the media, when there is a certain public resonance and human rights defenders get involved. As soon as that attention fades, he is sent back to SHIZO."
Both human rights defenders and former prisoners agree that contesting a SHIZO placement yields no practical results: by the time a hearing is scheduled, the period of isolation has already expired, and courts rule against prisoners. At the same time, attempts to obtain compensation for unlawful detention in punishment isolation grow each year. But Russian courts prefer to consistently deny claims from convicts: journalists have calculated that from 2012 to 2021, only one lawsuit was fully upheld.
However, assistance in contesting SHIZO placements and other support demonstrates to the administration that the convict has not been forgotten, says Sergei Davidis, head of the "Support for Political Prisoners. Memorial" project: "We [in 'Memorial'], in particular, work to provide legal assistance to political prisoners in such cases, to contest these SHIZO placements. This is far from always effective and is more often not effective, but it is an expression of moral support. It is also something of a restraining factor for the administration. Clearly, with Navalny this does not work, because the main apparatus of the state is involved, but with others it might."
Lawyer Vladimir Bilienko also speaks about the importance of support: "If possible, it is better to visit your client in the colony from time to time — to provide legal and moral support." This sends the administration a signal that the person has not been forgotten and that they must be treated more carefully, the defense lawyer added.
It is important to contest a SHIZO placement after release: in such cases a court sometimes takes the side of prisoners, and it is important to document FSIN violations on the record, says Konstantin Kotov. His legal proceedings related to conditions of detention have been ongoing for three years: one of the decisions awarded him 30,000 rubles.
Andrei Borovikov contested two of his SHIZO placements, demanding compensation of 100,000 rubles for unlawful prosecution. The court acknowledged violations in both cases but awarded compensation 20 times lower — 5,000 rubles each. "They refused, said I was asking for too much. Well then... If they sat out those 10 days [in SHIZO] themselves, I'd give them 5,000," he wrote.
The placement of prisoners in SHIZO is a long-established systemic practice. In the view of OVD-Info's sources, achieving fundamental change here is impossible without a reform of the penitentiary system and, more broadly, without a transformation of the political situation in the country.
However, this does not mean at all that prisoners — including those persecuted on political charges — need not be supported. Public exposure remains important: it gives convicts the opportunity to speak out and draw attention to the problem. Petitions to the bodies that oversee the operation of places of detention can also help.
Prisoners can be supported through letters: as the convicts themselves say, in a colony it is very important to understand that one has not been forgotten. Andrei Borovikov called the letters he received a "doping": "When I was feeling unwell, when I was sick — I read the letters, I was filled with energy." He kept all the letters that were sent to him and took them with him after his release: "I replied to all the letters, and there were several thousand of them."
A political prisoner can be written to, in particular, via a Telegram bot created by Memorial, Mediazona, and FBK, using OVD-Info data as the basis. The bot was launched ahead of October 30 — the Day of the Political Prisoner. "Today our lists contain 610 political prisoners. Unfortunately, not every political prisoner has a prominent name and a support group. You can become a patron and support group for one of them," the human rights defenders wrote.
Source: OVD-Info — ovdinfo.org