Viktor Savvinov had already been jailed multiple times for various crimes – including robbery, car theft and assault – when he murdered a female drinking partner during an argument in 2020, stabbing her in the chest with four knives.
A court in Russia’s Yakutia region of Siberia sentenced him to 11 years in a maximum security prison. So when recruiters from Wagner’s private mercenary group offered him freedom and a clean slate if he deployed to fight in Ukraine, Mr. Savvinov, a morgue regular, jumped at the chance.
By February, Mr Savvinov had completed his service and returned to his home village of Kutana. That month, on Defenders of the Fatherland Day, he staggered drunkenly through the snow-covered streets, residents said, loudly complaining that the villagers showed him insufficient respect as a veteran. The next night, he murdered two of them, according to a law enforcement report, by hitting a drinking friend with a crowbar before killing his estranged aunt, who lived next door, by stabbing her in the head and then setting her log house on fire.
Russia’s practice of convict recruitment has been the backbone of its success in Ukraine, providing an overwhelming manpower advantage in the war. But it backfires in tragic ways, as prisoners pardoned for service in Ukraine return to Russia and commit new crimes.
Total numbers for repeat crimes are difficult to determine because the Russian government restricts the release of any public information that casts the war in a bad light. A search of Russian court records by independent media outlet Verstka found that at least 190 criminal cases were brought against pardoned Wagner recruits in 2023. This included 20 cases of murder or attempted murder as well as rape, robbery and drug crimes, among the rest.
However, the Kremlin appears to be doubling down on its prisoner recruitment policy. On March 23, President Vladimir V. Putin signed a new law to formalize the process.
Previously, the criteria for pardons were opaque and Mr Putin pardoned convicts who had fought in Ukraine by signing decrees that were never made public. The new law established a long list of eligible crimes expressly added to Russia’s criminal code, including murder, robbery and certain rapes. Getting a pardon is now a matter of law, not presidential decree, but convicts released from prison to fight can only be pardoned after their military commanders approve.
Crimes that are not eligible include terrorism, espionage or treason, and certain sex crimes involving minors, among others.
“Nobody used to lock their doors in the village at night, but now they lock them with a key, even during the day,” said a resident of Kutana, a Siberian village of 1,000, who declined to be named in an interview. out of fear that Mr. Savvinov might win another pardon if he were convicted and volunteered again to fight in Ukraine.
“Normal life” was gone, he added, noting that the aunt he killed had once been named “teacher of the year” and awarded by the Kremlin.
Similar experiences have marked other cities and towns.
In Chita, near the Mongolian border, a Ukrainian veteran was sentenced last month to 14 years in prison for strangling a 22-year-old prostitute to death with his bare hands. In 2020, he was sentenced to 14 years for strangling and dismembering an 18-year-old girl.
In the Siberian city of Novosibirsk, a former Wagner mercenary who had served 15 years for theft and fraud was sentenced in February to 17 years in prison for raping two schoolgirls, aged 10 and 12.
Near the southwestern city of Krasnodar last spring, a young father, Kirill Chubko, owner of a party business, and one of his employees stopped to fix a flat tire on a dark street one evening. They encountered three highway robbers who forced them to withdraw about $2,000 from their banks before fatally stabbing them, according to a law enforcement report. The gang leader was sentenced to 18 years in prison in 2016 for robbing motorists, but was released to serve in Ukraine.
In 2017, Sergei Rudenko was sentenced to 10 years in prison for strangling his girlfriend to death with a belt. He earned his release when he signed with Wagner to compete in the Ukraine.
In April 2023, in Rostov-on-Don, in southwestern Russia, 34-year-old Mr. Rudenko went looking for an apartment. After arguing with the real estate agent about the proposed rent, he strangled her with a cloth cord and then stabbed her in the neck, according to a law enforcement report. A district court sentenced Mr. Rudenko to more than 11 years in prison.
Local news reports did not name the victim, and several local residents contacted by phone said they knew nothing about it.
The details of these crimes were drawn from numerous interviews, local investigative reports, local news articles and court records. Most relatives and friends of the murder victims spoke on condition of anonymity, worried the killers might gain new favors and hunt them down. Respondents also worried that authorities might charge them under wartime laws for defamation of the military, which includes publicizing soldiers’ past crimes.
The Wagner group began recruiting convicts in August 2022, with the promise of presidential pardons in exchange for signing a six-month contract. Before disbanding last year in the wake of a failed mutiny against the Kremlin, the group said it had recruited more than 50,000 prisoners.
Many of those men have died, some are still fighting, and about 15,000 ex-convicts have returned home, according to Olga Romanova, head of Russia Behind Bars, an NGO working on prisoner issues.
“A lot of prisoners came back free and it became a big problem,” he said. The crimes seemed to belie the official narrative that the war was being fought to make Russia safer and that veterans would form a new elite, he added.
Crimes committed by veterans, whether by the Wagner group or others, often go unreported. The national media reported only a few shocking cases. “It’s a story about invisible violence,” said Kirill Titaev, a Russian sociologist who works at Yale University and specializes in criminology. “It’s a big problem for society, but they don’t recognize it.”
Russian commanders often use untrained convicts who join the Russian army as cannon fodder. Having survived harsh conditions in penal colonies and then a bloody war, they are back on the streets with zero rehabilitation.
Many of them return to their communities exuding a certain swagger, experts said. They consider their service restored and usually have money to burn. Their basic monthly salary from Wagner of about $2,000 was a small fortune in much of Russia.
In addition, law enforcement officers are often intimidated by the new status of ex-prisoners, Ms. Romanova said.
Those pardoned after committing particularly shocking crimes and then serving in Ukraine include a serial killer from Sakhalin known for cannibalism. member of a satanic sect convicted of ritual murders. and a man who killed his ex-girlfriend by brutally torturing her for hours.
Last year, Mr Putin played down the issue of pardoned convicts committing new crimes. “This is inevitable,” the president said. “But the negative consequences are minimal.” Although it confirmed the issuance of presidential pardons, the Kremlin refused to name the recipients.
Relatives of previous victims and other locals often strongly criticize the release of criminals. In Novosibirsk, the forgiven killer of a used car saleswoman now drives a taxi, despite attempts to get him fired.
Some lawyers are blaming prosecutors for delaying cases against veterans in the hope that the local outcry will die down.
“This is a new level of lawlessness,” said the lawyer for the widow of Mr Chubko, who along with his employee was murdered by a highway gang. The lawyer’s repeated requests to prosecutors for a copy of the pardon have been refused. “They keep telling us it’s a state secret,” he said. “We fight the investigation more than the accused.”
Mr Chumpko called his wife late the night he was killed, telling her not to stay awake, that some men he met on the road would help him change his tyre. The next morning, her husband, who still had no home, was not answering his cell phone.
However, his wife reached Tatyana Mostyko, 19, who worked for her husband. Mrs. Mostyko told her in a strange voice that Mr. Chubko was not available, and the wife said she realized later that he had already been killed. Ms. Mostyko was driven to various ATMs and was soon murdered, according to an investigation report.
The widow said the presence of the three suspects made her sick to her stomach. (The other two had minor criminal records and there was no indication that either had served in Ukraine, according to local press reports.)
“It was obvious they had no regrets,” he said. Her husband had once remarked that recruiting soldiers from prisons was not normal, she added.
“These people belong in prison,” he said. “I’m afraid he is among us. My child and I walk in the park and they may walk there. It’s not like it’s written on their foreheads that they’re criminals.”
Oleg Matsnev contributed to the report.
