‘The guards threw firecrackers outside our cell windows’. What Russian political prisoners freed in this year’s swap remember from New Year’s Eve behind bars — and what they hope for in 2025

Meduza.io

2024 is in the books, and it seems safe to say that it won’t be remembered as a particularly hopeful year for those who support peace and human rights. Yet it did offer moments of joy and hope — such as the large-scale surprise prisoner swap in August that saw the release of Vladimir Kara-Murza, Ilya Yashin, Andrey Pivovarov, and others who had been imprisoned in Russia for opposing the Putin regime and the war in Ukraine. Just one year ago, most of these individuals were behind bars; now, they’re celebrating the holidays with their loved ones. Meduza spoke with some of these former political prisoners about how they spent last New Year’s Eve and what they hope for as they look ahead to 2025. We hope their stories serve as a reminder that even the darkest times eventually pass.

Alsu Kurmasheva

Journalist at Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty (RFE/RL), arrested in May 2023

In December 2023, my family and I were going through an incredibly difficult time. I was in prison on charges that were completely unfounded and lacked any evidence. I couldn’t even plan for the next year — I never knew what would happen the next day.

I spent most of the New Year holidays sick. Everyone in prison was ill, and we ran out of even the most basic medicines. No one could bring any because of the holiday closures. One day, a radiator burst, and it was -30 [degrees Celsius, or -24 degrees Fahrenheit] outside… I don’t even want to think about it. It was unbearable. There was no New Year celebration. On December 31 and January 1, my cellmate and I just lay there in delirium with high fevers.

When I started to feel a little better, I began writing letters. Even though I couldn’t send them until after the holidays — which would last at least another 10 days — I wrote. It helped me get through those days. After the holidays, I received many letters, from people I knew as well as strangers. One woman wrote, “Today everyone is celebrating, but I went to another room because I want to write to you.” She wrote this on December 31, and I received her letter in early February. But that doesn’t matter. What’s important is that the letters arrived. Those words will stay with me forever. That was when I truly felt the immense support of the free world.

More from Alsu Kurmasheva

• ‘I have good news and bad news’ Journalist Alsu Kurmasheva speaks to Meduza about life as a political prisoner in Russia and why she’ll never be a cynic

Now I’m free and relatively healthy. We’ve decorated the Christmas tree and bought gifts. The house is warm and cozy. I’ve bought stamps, envelopes, and postcards — now I’ll be the one sending letters to fellow journalists and other political prisoners in Russia who have been unjustly convicted. Among them are my colleagues from RFE/RL: Nika Novak in Russia, Igor Losik and Andrey Kuznechik in Belarus, Vladyslav Yesypenko in Crimea, and Farid Mehralizada in Azerbaijan. I’ll send my letters to their families, telling them about what’s going on around me.

We shouldn’t be afraid to write to prisoners about good things. Journalists in prison are just like me — people with families and children waiting for them at home. They should be free.

Andrey Pivovarov

Opposition politician, arrested in May 2021

My 2024 New Year’s Eve was hard to even call New Year’s Eve. Because nothing about the [prison] routine changes for the holidays, except they might let you watch TV for an extra hour. I remember asking the guards if there would be any special privileges for the New Year — maybe we’d be allowed to stay up later? Or get some extra food? Their response was something like, “Well, maybe they’ll make you some Olivier [salad]!” But for dinner, they served us pearl barley porridge again — the worst food they had.

On the holiday schedule, we got to watch TV until 9:00 p.m. Usually, they’d show some movie (sometimes propaganda films like Air, or the latest Avatar), and then Russian rap videos. But this time, instead of music videos, they showed the New Year’s speech from the prison warden. So while everyone else watched Putin, we watched our warden. He stood in front of a Christmas tree, talking about how “times have been difficult and continue to be, but you need to work on getting out.” At the end, he said his wish was for us to all leave the prison as soon as possible. At 9:00 p.m., the TV turned off. At 9:55, I went to bed. In the morning, we got one pancake each and some condensed milk. That was our holiday.

The next day, they showed a taped episode of [the Russian comedy show] KVN. It was so bad, it was embarrassing to watch. It wasn’t funny at all. Everyone was trying so hard to be “patriotic,” and the jokes were hollow and forced. At the end, [Channel One general director Konstantin] Ernst stood up and said, “I wish our boys who are defending us at the front were sitting here in this auditorium.” And the whole audience stood up. Then, right before lights out, they showed Putin’s [New Year’s] address.

First days in freedom

• Finally free Photos from the hospital where Vladimir Kara-Murza, Ilya Yashin, and other political prisoners released by Moscow were sent after arriving in Germany

[At my prison] in Karelia, the conditions were strict: I was always alone in my cell — just a little TV that went on and off on a set schedule. Celebrating a family holiday under those conditions was especially painful. The gloom hit harder than usual. Even when I was in [the pretrial detention center in] Krasnodar, where I had a cellmate and a holiday meal, the feeling of fullness didn’t bring me any joy. Because you understand that you’re in prison — and you’re not getting out anytime soon.

Now that I’m free, I can’t shake the feeling that change in Russia is coming sooner than we think. Maybe it’s just because I’ve only been out for three months, and I’m only now experiencing what other émigrés went through earlier. But I have the distinct feeling that we’re on the brink of change — whether or not the war ends or is frozen. A system like the one in Russia can’t last forever, no matter what serious economists say. The processes of [the regime’s] decay are unstoppable. It’s impossible to say what the black swan event will be for Putin, but that swan is definitely coming. Will it happen in 2025? I sincerely believe it will.

For this New Year, I want to gather with my wife and a big, joyful group of friends. We won’t be celebrating until 10 p.m. — we’ll go until three in the morning.

Kevin Lik

Youngest person ever to be convicted of treason in Russia, arrested in February 2023

Exactly one year ago, on December 28, 2023, I was sentenced in my treason case. The mood was decidedly not festive. I was, let’s say, disappointed, even though I was only given four years.

I had to ring in the New Year behind four walls — in a pre-trial detention center in Adygea. The guards threw firecrackers outside our cell windows. We could hear the sound of fireworks (the detention center isn’t far from an area where people live). Everybody else was in the holiday spirit —but not us.

Rare good news

• ‘We spent the last three days searching for her’ Freed Russian political prisoners’ loved ones react to their release

After the verdict, my mother tried to get permission for a short visit, but it was denied. They told her that my monthly limit had already been reached. My cellmates kept me going by telling jokes. The sadness quickly passed. I knew I had to stay positive. And I tried not to look too far ahead, not to think about things that might never happen.

I still don’t feel festive now. I haven’t for a long time — and I think many people can relate to that feeling. Right now, more than 1,400 political prisoners are where I used to be. I think about them often. Spending almost a year and a half in detention has left its mark on me.

At home, we didn’t even put up a Christmas tree. The plan is to spend time with family and friends, if possible. Of course, if you try to deny yourself joy completely, you risk going crazy. But I still try not to look too far into the future. I have no expectations for 2025.

Oleg Orlov

Human rights activist and former co-chair of Memorial Human Rights Center

I didn’t get arrested until February 2024, so I spent last New Year’s Eve free. During the holidays, exactly a month before my arrest, I already knew I’d be arrested soon. There was no doubt about it. The prosecutor’s office had already decided to reopen the criminal case against me — and to find aggravating circumstances in my activities. It was clear they would.

This realization didn’t bring any joy to me or my loved ones. But my wife [Tatyana Kasatkina] and I deliberately didn’t talk about it — even though I already had a bag packed for prison sitting in my apartment. We’d bought everything I would need.

Orlov’s sentencing

• In a four-day trial, here’s how Russia sentenced leading human rights activist Oleg Orlov to 2.5 years in prison for writing that the Putin regime has become fascist

That New Year we celebrated with our friends, out in the countryside. We had a great time skiing. I remember the cold being brutal! But it was still a good time.

Now, free, my mood is mixed, because we’re not home. And because so many other political prisoners, including my friends, are still in prison. I look at 2025 with hopes for a new prisoner exchange. I really hope it will happen soon. It’s being talked about a lot — and I myself talk about it too, at various meetings. If we can get even one person out, I’ll be jumping for joy!

As for myself, in the coming year, I plan to learn German. And I hope I’ll take fewer trips, so I can work more calmly and systematically. I also have a personal wish — I’d really like to go fishing. Somewhere up north, in Scandinavia. Because fishing in Germany is impossible: you have to take these awful exams, and the restrictions are ridiculous. I don’t even try to fish in Germany.

This New Year’s Eve, maybe my wife [Tatyana Kasatkina] and I will have some champagne at home. Or maybe someone will invite us over: we have a lot of friends and acquaintances in Berlin. We’ve always spent New Year either with friends or at our dacha — we’d decorate the tree in the yard with lights, hang blinking garlands on the other trees in the yard, and decorate the porch… Everything looked so beautiful! But that was at home, in Russia. Now we’re not home, so we won’t buy a tree or decorate anything. We’re not in the mood for it. Once we’re back home — then we’ll put up a tree.

Interviews by Lilia Yapparova

Photos: Kaylee Greenlee Beal / Reuters / Scanpix / LETA; Yevgeny Feldman / Meduza; Christoph Reichwein / dpa / picture-alliance / AP / Scanpix / LETA; Carsten Koall / dpa / picture-alliance / Scanpix / LETA