Prisoners’ Families in Russia Face Horrific Problems but Find Understanding and Support from Others

Paul Goble

            Staunton, January 9 – One of the frequent subjects of memoirs of those whose relatives were incarcerated in Soviet times was the standing in line to send packages to or learn the fate of their husbands and children. When the packages were no longer accepted, these poor people knew that their relatives were no longer among the living.

            Now, things have changed: relatives have the chance to correspond and talk with those behind bars and even to meet with them several times a year for what are called “long visits.”  But as conditions have eased, something else has changed as well: the fate of the families of prisoners has ceased to be the object of much attention.

            And today when so many Russians pass through the penal system either for ordinary crimes or for political ones, the number of their family members who suffer as a result is large but typically these people and their fates are passed over in silence.  Those who are in similar positions sometimes provide support, but generally both are ignored by Russian society.

            Viktoriya Li of the MBK news agency provides an importance glimpse into this all-too-often forgotten class by interviewing five spouses and parents of prisoners. Their comments speak of a world no one could envy but that all recognize and fear that they too might fall into as well (mbk-news.appspot.com/suzhet/nashi-blizkie-uzhe-sidyat/).

            Olga, whose doctor son is serving time for allegedly inappropriately touching a child, says that it took her some time to come to terms with his imprisonment. “It seemed to me that those who are in prison should be there. But now I understand that about half are innocent and that no one, absolutely no one is insured against landing behind bars.”

            While her son was being investigated, Olga spent all her money on lawyers and investigators. Now, she spends it on packages and phone calls and on cash transfers so that her son can buy things in the prison store. “Jail costs so much” – she sends no less than 3000 rubles (50 US dollars) each month – and despite being of pension age is working to afford it.

           

            Olga says she had thoughts of suicide but overcame them when she realized that if she were dead, her son would no longer have anyone to help her.  She finally found support via Facebook, and her contacts online have become her “very close and dear” friends who help her get through the days and months.

            Yury Ligachev’s wife is serving time for misappropriation of funds, a crime she was convicted of on the basis of the denunciations of her colleagues. He says she is innocent.  They have been married 43 years and he says his honor as a former army officer doesn’t allow him to desert her. In fact, their ties have become closer during the time she is in prison.

            He says that his main problem is psychological: “why has my beloved and innocent wife been put in jail on the basis of false denunciations? Where is our vaunted court system?” How can this be happening? But he does worry about his wife’s health: she can’t get the medicine she needs in prison.

            Olga’s husband killed his mother, a crime he confessed to. She remains true to him and keeps her spirits up with the help of other relatives of prisoners in an internet community of which she is a part.  Without that support, her life would be very difficult indeed.

            Vladimir’s adopted son is serving time for possession of drugs. His conviction, in the view of his father, was rushed through without an adequate investigation.  In the Russian legal system today, he says, “white is called black and black white.” He spends almost all his family’s income on supporting the adopted son in prison.

            And Olesya Maznyak faces the most difficult situation: both her son and her husband are behind bars, for selling drugs to raise money to take care of their daughter and sister who has epilepsy and cannot get care otherwise.  She has been working closely with the Sitting Russia prisoners’ organization and has appealed to the European Human Rights Court.

            Her health has deteriorated. She has visited her husband in prison because he is held not far from where she lives, but her son is in a colony so far away that she would have to fly – and she can’t afford that luxury.  She gets by, Olesya says, with help from others who are similarly situated.