As of September 2, there are 144 Ukrainians being held captive by the separatists in the Donbas, as stated by the adviser to the head of the Ukrainian Security Service (SBU), Yuri Tandit on 112 Ukraine TV.
“In recent days, unfortunately, the number has increased slightly because ordinary civilians were detained, who had no weapons and were not near the line of demarcation, and were not participants of the ATO [Anti-Terrorist Operation]. They have been accused of espionage and other crimes that they did not commit,” he said.
“We have already questioned more than 113 thousand people as witnesses. More than 21 thousand people have been recognized as victims [of war crimes in Ukraine]” by Aleksandr Bastrykin Head of the Russian Investigative Committee
On March 21, 2017, Rossiyskaya Gazeta, the official newspaper of the Russian government, published an interview with Aleksandr Bastrykin, head of Russia’s Investigative Committee (Sledkom). The interview centered around Bastrykin’s claim that Sledkom was investigating 104 criminal cases against Ukrainian individuals allegedly involved in war crimes.
So here we go again. Belarusian President Alyaksandr Lukashenka seems to be doing what he does best: flirting with the West, antagonizing Russia, and implicitly threatening to stray from Moscow’s orbit.
It’s the Lukashenka two-step. And it seems we’ve seen this movie before.
And every time the Belarusian strongman has tried this trick in the past, it’s worked like a charm. He gets some concessions from the West and Russia keeps feeding him subsidies.
But if Lukashenka has been a master gamer in the past, this time the game feels different.
With Minsk and Moscow at odds over gas prices, oil deliveries, food exports, Belarus granting visa-free travel to Westerners, Russia imposing border controls, and the Kremlin’s push for a new air base, this time it all feels much more dangerous.
If Ukraine’s east is a combustive mix of languages and loyalties, its west can be even trickier.
In Transcarpathia, many residents live within shouting distance of four EU countries. Inhabitants speak not only Russian and Ukrainian but Hungarian, Romanian, German, Slovak and Rusyn. Many of its 1.3 million inhabitants hold more than one passport.
It’s a region, in short, where loyalties don’t necessarily lie with Kyiv. So when armed violence broke out on July 11 between police and Right Sector nationalists in the Transcarpathian city of Mukacheve, it was an eerie echo of the Kremlin’s insistence that Ukraine’s problem is not outside meddling, but internal strife.
“[The Right Sector] has a thousands-strong military wing and its own command, but it does not report to the government,” the pro-government news channel Russia Today stated in its coverage of the Mukhacheve shoot-out, which left two people dead and several more wounded.
Sputnik International, a second Kremlin-backed outlet, ran articles describing Right Sector militants running amok, lowering EU flags in Lviv, hacking the Twitter account of the National Security and Defense Council , and heading en masse toward Kyiv.
Right Sector — a heavily armed militant organization branded by Russia as “neo-Nazis” and “fascists” for their ties to World War II-era Ukrainian nationalist Stepan Bandera, who cooperated with German forces to fend off Soviet troops — is estimated to have as many as 10,000 members serving in volunteer battalions in the Donbas war zone and elsewhere in the country.
A sometimes uneasy ally of last year’s Maidan protesters, the group has since grown critical of the government of Petro Poroshenko, in particular for cracking down on volunteer units.
But one member, while confirming the group’s intention to protest in Kyiv, said they would not do so “with assault rifles and machine guns.”
The group has also sought to portray the weekend violence as fallout from the group’s self-described anticorruption efforts. Oleksiy Byk, a Right Sector spokesman, said police were to blame for the bloodshed.
“If we had started shooting first, there would have been many police among the victims,” Byk said during a July 12 press conference.Dmytro Yarosh
Dmytro Yarosh, the head of Right Sector, said on Facebook that his group was cooperating with the Ukrainian Security Service to stabilize the situation in Transcarpathia.
“I am asking you to ignore fake reports, which are disseminated to discredit Right Sector and provoke Ukrainians to shed blood,” he said.
Poroshenko, addressing an extraordinary meeting of the National Security Council’s military cabinet, appeared unswayed. Accusing Right Sector of undermining “real Ukrainian patriots,” the Ukrainian leader on July 13 suggested that fresh tensions in Donbas “have been mysteriously synchronized with an attempt to destabilize the situation in the rear — and not just any rear, but in a place 1,000 kilometers away from the front line.”
A KGB Favorite
Local reports suggest the Mukhacheve violence may have been the result of a business dispute. Cross-border smuggling of cigarettes and other contraband is said to be worth billions of dollars in Transcarpathia, with its easy ground access to Romania, Hungary, Slovakia, and Poland.
The region’s customs officials have been suspended in the wake of the violence, and at least one authority — parliamentary deputy Mykhaylo Lanyo, who has been accused of ties to smuggling networks — has been called in for questioning.
But it remains to be seen whether suspicions will trickle up to powerful local authorities like the so-called Baloha clan — revolving around Viktor Baloha, a former emergency situations minister and current parliamentary deputy — which is said to rule Transcarpathia with near-complete autonomy.
Some observers have suggested that the July 11 violence was little more than a battle for influence between Lan and Baloha.
Others say they suspect Russia of stirring the pot. During the Soviet era, Transcarpathia — with its mix of languages and nearby borders — was of special interest for the KGB, who used the region as a “window” to the west and the entryway for its armed invasions of Hungary in 1956 and Czechoslovakia in 1968.
“The FSB has successfully picked up the baton,” he wrote. “For Russia, Transcarpathia and its surroundings remain an important region. Taking into account the blurred identity and ethnic diversity of the local population, the field of activities for these agents is quite fertile.”
The weekend unrest, with its threat of gang-style violence spilling over the EU’s eastern border, has put Ukraine’s goal of visa-free EU travel at immediate risk.
With the involvement of Right Sector, Kralyuk says, the clashes have given Russia “a wonderful gift.”
Transcarpathia, which during the 20th century was alternately ruled by the Austro-Hungarian Empire, Czechoslovakia, and Hungary before being claimed by the Soviet Union, leans heavily on largesse from its western neighbors.
Budapest in particular has provided passports and special benefits to residents with proven Hungarian roots. The country’s pro-Russian prime minister, Viktor Orban, has set Ukraine on edge with professed concern for Transcarpathia’s Hungarian minority, which many see as shorthand for a Russian-style separatist conflict.
Moreover, the region has long shown an affinity for pro-Russian parties. In the 1990s, Transcarpathia was a solid supporter of the Social Democratic Party of Viktor Medvedchuk, the pro-Kremlin strategist with close personal ties to Vladimir Putin.
Before the Maidan protests, it put its weight behind Viktor Yanukovych and the Party of Regions, rather than pro-democratic “orange” candidates.
Political analyst Viktoria Podhorna says government negligence has only added to Transcarpathian exceptionalism. Poroshenko, who earned atypical support from Baloha, appears to have responded by involving himself only minimally in Transcarpathian issues.
“There’s some kind of trade-off between the central government and regional authorities, who are basically owned by local princelings,” Podhorna says. “And this is the foundation that can lead to conflicts like those in Donbas.”
The treacherous six-hour drive from Odessa to Bolgrad, the rural town where Petro Poroshenko was born, helps explain why in May the Ukrainian president entrusted the job of regional governor to Mikheil Saakashvili, the maverick reformer and former president of nearby Georgia .
In these agricultural heartlands, impoverished locals struggle to get produce to markets. With deep potholes and dirt tracks, roads are more torn up than in Ukraine’s war-torn breakaway east.
After years of neglect, the 244km ride from the cosmopolitan regional capital and Black Sea port hub of Odessa to this southwest corner of Ukraine is like navigating a minefield.
“We feel abandoned, cut off and left for despair . . . Leaders from Kiev, including Poroshenko, aren’t welcome any more,” said Viktor, a resident in the largely ethnic Bulgarian town. “But we like Saakashvili so far,” he added.
Last year’s clashes in Odessa city between pro-Russian and pro-Ukraine forces fed fears that the Moscow-backed separatism fomented in the Donbas region could spread to Odessa, which has a high proportion of Russian speakers and is an ethnic melting pot.
Some feared the arrival of Mr Saakashvili, a foreigner and pro-western politician who in 2008 clashed with Russia over control over two Georgian separatist enclaves, could stoke fresh geopolitical tension.
Kiev’s hope was that he would repeat his success in Georgia, where he helped turn the economy around, and thus neuter support in Odessa for Russia.
So far, the arrival of the straight-speaking Mr Saakashvili, who studied in Kiev and speaks Russian, Ukrainian and English, has injected fresh energy and hope into a region that faces some of the same challenges Georgia did when he took over more than a decade ago. He is now exiled from his country by criminal charges that he says are politically motivated.
In Odessa, road reconstruction has accelerated and Mr Saakashvili has sacked corrupt regional officials and promised investment and new jobs, swiftly winning over desperate locals.
Hopping into a crowded and sweaty Odessa minibus last week, with no notice and without bodyguards, Mr Saakashvili made one of his regular trips around the region to get a glimpse into what works and what doesn’t.
At first his presence stunned his fellow passengers, tourists and residents alike. But the locals quickly made their feelings clear, pleading for reforms.
Mr Saakashvili told them his top priorities are fixing infrastructure and boosting business and tourism, tasks that will be financed by a crackdown on corruption.
“The old system is collapsing,” he said, as the minibus bounced erratically over potholes. “Revolutionary reforms are the answer and we need to act fast.”
“We know Putin is plotting to foment separatism here,” he added. “Without Odessa, there will be no Ukraine. It will be cut off from the Black Sea . . . its exports will be choked.”
As the bus rolled into the resort town of Serhiyivka, residents launched into accusations against a once-feared mayor who has controlled the city for more than a decade. They took Mr Saakashvili on a tour of dilapidated infrastructure, pointing out the luxurious estates built by local officials.
Sergei Lutenko, a 26-year-old who hopes to challenge the mayor in forthcoming elections, said Mr Saakashvili’s presence had “broken fear and offered hope”.
Hours later, in the governor’s office, Mr Saakashvili called in the heads of anti-corruption departments for a televised cabinet meeting.
He swiftly fired them and their staff after one admitted he had brought no officials to justice for corruption since the beginning of the year.
“Have you not seen the roads?” said Mr Saakashvili. “Where did the money go? I’m firing you for doing nothing.”
The ruthless accountability demanded by Mr Saakashvili has regional officials in a panic: many have started repaving roads at their own expense.
“They know I will come to their town next, and they are trying to hold on to their jobs by covering up their wrongdoings,” Mr Saakashvili said.
Broader plans include streamlining local government from about 8,000 to 3,000 staff and clamping down on the rampant evasion of customs duty at regional ports.
This, he says, will free resources to improve governance by replacing fat-cat bureaucrats with more motivated — and often western educated — young people. His flamboyant style strikes a chord in a region known for its sense of humour.
“We need to move fast . . . It will be messy; mistakes will be made,” he said. His combative approach may yet anger entrenched mafia interests and even put him in danger.
“First they will try character assassination, to discredit me. After that they will come after me with other methods,” he said.
Echoing the views of residents across the region, Viktor, from Bolgrad, said:
“It was strange at first to have a former president from another country as our new governor, but in one month we see him doing more than anyone did for us in years.”