Russian soldiers returning from Ukrainian captivity are finding that their ordeal is far from over, facing interrogation, financial penalties, and renewed deployments rather than a hero’s welcome.
When a middle-aged Russian soldier was released from a prisoner-of-war camp in Ukraine earlier this year, his first instinct was to call home. Alive and back on Russian soil, he told his family he hoped to return in time for his son’s birthday. However, for many returning servicemen, the relief of homecoming is rapidly replaced by a new kind of jeopardy. While the Kremlin publicly celebrates volunteers and veterans, a different reality awaits those captured by the enemy. According to reports from the Wall Street Journal, soldiers who choose surrender over death are increasingly viewed with suspicion, subjected to intense vetting by security services, and often thrust back into the war zone under a cloud of shame.
Why It Matters
The treatment of returning prisoners of war (POWs) highlights a grim, often overlooked chapter of Moscow’s invasion of Ukraine. While state media lionizes veterans with promises of government positions and social privileges, the state apparatus actively discourages surrender. Commanders reportedly admonish troops to use grenades on themselves rather than submit to capture—a sentiment echoed in popular culture by figures like Russian rapper Dmitry Kuznetsov (Husky).
This dynamic complicates the war effort for individual soldiers. Financial incentives, such as salaries and one-time bonuses, are a primary motivator for enlistment, yet these payments can be severed the moment a soldier is captured, leaving families in financial limbo. Furthermore, Russia’s harsh stance signals to its troops that survival through surrender may be treated as a criminal act rather than a necessity of war.
What To Know
Upon crossing back into Russian territory—usually via buses from Belarus—returning POWs face immediate isolation. Instead of reuniting with families, they are often held for up to a month for interrogation by the Federal Security Service (FSB), military prosecutors, and the Investigative Committee. These sessions are designed to sniff out treason, collaboration, or voluntary surrender, which Russia criminalized in 2022 during its chaotic mobilization period.
The legal consequences are severe. In a landmark case earlier this year, a soldier named Roman Ivanishin was sentenced to 15 years in a high-security penal colony shortly after being returned in a prisoner swap. His charges included voluntary surrender and desertion.
Those who avoid prison often fare little better. Many are sent back to their units where they are stripped of their weapons and assigned menial labor or forced into endless drills. Others are redeployed to the front lines, where families fear commanders may assign them dangerous missions as punishment. The situation has become so dire that some relatives have reportedly lobbied to keep their sons out of prisoner exchanges, believing the conditions in Ukrainian camps—which are generally monitored by international observers—are safer than the treatment awaiting them at home.
What People Are Saying
The stigma attached to surrender is pervasive. “The country is at war,” said Valery Vetoshkina, a lawyer with the legal aid group OVD-Info. “The state does not encourage voluntary surrender.”
This sentiment is reinforced by the soldiers themselves. Pavel Guguyev, a 45-year-old former POW, described being interrogated by the FSB and facing ridicule from peers who asked why he didn’t commit suicide rather than be captured. Guguyev, who is now facing up to eight years in prison for giving interviews to Ukrainian journalists, noted that the security services label returned soldiers as “lost trust.”
“They don’t let zeks go home,” Guguyev said, using slang for prisoners. “They use them like workers.”
Families are also speaking out about the humiliation their loved ones face. One relative of Igor Dolgopolov, a soldier captured in Chasiv Yar, expressed fear that he would be swapped only to be sent to his death. The relative suggested it might be better for him to stay in Ukraine or even seek citizenship there, noting that returned soldiers are “denounced by their unit commanders.”
What Happens Next
The legal and social pressure on returning soldiers is likely to intensify as the war continues. While the Geneva Conventions generally prohibit the use of former POWs in active military service, a Russian Ministry of Defense paper argues these provisions do not apply while the conflict is ongoing.
This approach mirrors Soviet-era attitudes from World War II, famously summarized by the phrase attributed to Joseph Stalin: “We have no prisoners, only traitors.” With criminal cases for voluntary surrender growing and unit commanders exercising broad authority over the fate of returned troops, the path home for Russian captives remains fraught with legal perils and physical danger.
