In 2018 Victor Filinkov was a 23-year old programmer and a left-wing activist. Suddenly he became the suspect of the “Network” case - young people from Penza, Moscow and other cities allegedly created a terrorist organization.

”Paper” was the first one to ask Viktor main questions: about the “Networks” case and the accomplices’ testimony, about night shifts in the colony and sewing lessons in a solitary confinement, about detainee-deserters and authority among the prison guards, about first days at large and about broken health.

Title photo was provided by Victor’s friends.

«They brought me across the border and said: “That’s it, now get out” - about the release and deportation to Kazakhstan.»

- You were deported to Kazakhstan (Victor has a citizenship of Kazakhstan). Tell us how you were freed.

I had the same main part of release as everybody else: the prison’s special department forces came in and I signed for receiving the documents (of course, no one got their documents, usually they are given at the border control checkpoint). Then we waited for various officers to let me go through the border control checkpoint. It all took around 5 hours. Meanwhile (my wife) Zhenya got to me.

They did not give me documents at the border checkpoint. They were given to the operative security officers. There were 3 cops with me: a cop-driver, a convoy-cop and a cop from Migration Service. All of them were from different departments, they were banded into one posse just to deport someone. All four of us got into the Lada Vesta and set off: I was clenched between two cops on the backseat, and the driver was sitting on the front seat.

Even before that, girls passed me ice cream, a pie and a curd snack - but I could not eat everything right away as I was handcuffed and buckled to the convoy-cop with a rope.

- So did they let you go only at the border?

Yes, together with the cops I reached the border. They unfastened me, brought me across the border and said: That’s it, now get out”. I went further to the Kazakhstan border and waited for the girls.

Then I spoke to our Kazakh officers. I did not have any documents and it raised some obvious questions.

- And where were the documents?

Documents did not exist at all, except for the paper that Zhenya got in the Astrakhan’s Kazakhstan border consulate - it was the so-called certificate of return.

If Zhenya had not gotten that document, I would have been put in a deportation prison and kept there while the consulate processed my documents. 

- I know there were concerns that they will not release you. Did security forces visit you before the end of a prison term?

No! I dodged a bullet, unlike Azat Miftakhov - a Moscow mathematician, who was found guilty in 2021 of allegedly attacking the “United Russia” office building, and in 2023 he was arrested immediately after being released from prison on a new criminal case of justifying terrorism).

The closer was the end of the prison term, the more afraid I became of them trumping-up a new case on me - because it was fairly easy to do, especially in terms of prison. But it turned out just right.

«Since now the 337 article became the people’s one - it stands for the absence without leave.” About everyday life in the colony

- Your wife Zhenya told us in details how you were pressured in the colony, given endless penalties, but things calmed down after trials and defending your rights. As we can see from Navalny’s example, courts are far from always enhancing the conditions of political prisoners. How and why did you decide to litigate?

The trigger was my understanding that the colony’s administration had impenetrably thick skin, they were pig-headed and there was no other way to deal with them.

First, I tried to reach for them. But they did not respond - either it was a top-down command or their inner beliefs that everything would be just fine. Turned out, it did not.

Administration stopped oppressing me only when the situation got to the point of monetary penalties from the certain officers. (Filinkov managed to win several lawsuits). I suspect money was the chief reason (of easing the press on me), not reprimands or courts’ formal confession about illegality of their actions.

- In general, how did inspectors treat you? Did you notice some specific attitude?

Some were afraid and hated me, some were afraid and respected me, though there were less such people.

During the prison term, the attitude towards me had changed. We were all tired from the pressure: both me and them. Middle-level and junior officers and, of course, infantry saw no point in oppressing me, yet they were told to do so. When everything ended, both them and me felt relief - the tension between us eased. /(As Viktor explained, “infantry” is what they used to call junior inspectors of the security department’s supervision group in the colony — editor’s note).

Photo was provided by Victor’s friends

- Were they afraid because you were suing the colony or due to the high-profile criminal case?

Because of the suing. They were worried: what if they do something wrong, and I sue them.

- For quite a long time you were kept on strict detention conditions and was sent to a control unit. Did you manage to communicate with other political prisoners?

Oh, I’ve been quite to some places… I spent about 11 months in a solitary confinement, dangled in AdSeg and ward-type rooms. Then for quite a long time I was held on strict detention conditions, but when a Moscow inspection from the General Prosecutor’s Office came to the colony of Orenburg region in early April 2024, they sent me off to the residential zone.

Residential zone was a disaster. I mean, living under strict detention conditions, where lately there were just the two of us, was easier. There were legal consequences due to being recognized as a malicious violator, but as a foreigner I did not care shit. In the residential zone, 90 people live in one barrack - this is a whole different level.

- How did other prisoners feel about you and your criminal case?

While I was kept on strict detention conditions and in AdSeg, inspectors spread various rumors about me. For example, that the sewing production worked for me alone: the prisoners sew, and the colony gave me all the money, supposedly I adjudged so much. But this is not true - I won a ridiculous amount of money in court, compared to the expenses, it is a drop in the ocean (one of the compensations for legal expenses was, for example, 58 thousand rubles - editor's note).

Other workers used to tell tales that I was a dangerous terrorist. Someone told the prisoners that I was a militant from Donbass. Someone said that I organized the Maidan. Someone said that I was on Navalny’s side (and I had nothing to do with Navalny).

The prisoners ended up having different opinions about me. I was pressured yet did not break down, they had a good attitude towards me. In the residential zone I was the only one was kept in a solitary confinement, in AdSeg and lived in strict detention conditions, this is why they respected me even more. In addition, the prisoners saw how the cops shunned me.

Therefore, at the end of my prison term, I resolved prisoner’s issues with the cops, so that no one would be given a penalty, no one would be tortured and no one would be beaten. (prisoners of СС-1 in Orenburg and their relatives repeatedly complained of torture and beatings during 2024, but the Federal Penitentiary Service denied them - editor's note).

Let's say people of barracks needed to have a wash as everyone was dirty after factory work. They wanted to take us to bathe at 9 o'clock in the morning, but at that time it was lights out - prisoners of our barrack had night shifts. And in such cases I also went to negotiate with the prison management, with the duty officer about taking people to wash at six in the morning.

In fact, I had no leverage over the prison management or the duty officers. But I had known the bosses for a long time. And I had also gained a certain amount of authority among the cops over the years of my imprisonment.

- In 2022 the war in Ukraine broke out, and then recruiters began to come to Russian colonies. Didn't they try to persuade you to sign a contract?

My article excludes any attempts of getting me involved into such a question. Cops, of course, joked that they would send me to the "SMO", but there was no real threat.

In our colony they did not force people to sign contracts - this, I suppose, is what distinguishes my prison from other zones.

At first, many people went off, both with the Wagners and with the Ministry of Defense. Now one or two dozen leave at a time.

- Why? Did they understand that people do not come back from “SMO”?

Since now the 337th article became the people’s one - it stands for the absence without leave. There are lots of people imprisoned for this article - almost one third of detainees.

The 337 Article is the most popular one, it outstands the drug article. At least, in my prison. So, everyone knows what is happening there (on the war-zone).

But many of those who are jailed for the 337 article still return (to the war). Some say: "I will never return." Others are confused: to go or not to go. Some changed their minds. Some signed and refused right away, but they are taken anyway. Some wanted to sign, but they are said: "No, you won't”.

- How did your daily life go in the colony? Zhenya said a year ago that in your free time you read books on mathematics and non-fiction.

I studied mathematics. At the beginning of 2024, I started learning German, but quickly dropped it off because in April I was sent to the residential zone. It is almost impossible to do something like that there. Then I also started working at night — they opened a night shift in the prison's sewing production — and I ended up in the corresponding barrack.

Due of the night work, I had no time on myself. Our lights out was at 8:40, but at that time we were still in the canteen, and we got to the barracks later. Formally, there should be eight hours of uninterrupted sleep, but it is during the day that the store is open, visits are allowed, and before lunch there are vocational school classes twice a week. Some prisoners end up sleeping three to four hours.

- Have you managed to graduate from vocational school?

At first, I tried to learn to be a seamstress myself in 2022, but I voluntarily dropped out. At that time, I was in the AdSeg, so I did not want to study fictitiously. But the prison inspectors had another plan: they wanted to formally teach me and put a sewing machine right in the punishment confinement so that I could work from there. They even managed to drag the machine to the cell, but I ended this great story by expelling. Without an education, they couldn’t force me to sew — they had already tried once, in September 2021. As I was sent to production without an education, I sued them. The court sided with me. But the overwhelming majority of prisoners continue to work without a sewing education.

In the end, I became a seamstress while I was kept under strict detention conditions. A teacher from a vocational school came to me personally and gave me lessons during her unpaid time. She apologized if she couldn't come, and I carefully wrote notes. Now I am a third-category seamstress - this is my first professional education in life.

“I told the boys that I won’t plead guilty”: about the “Networks” case

- During the trial, the prosecution said that they allegedly found text files on the laptop called “Code” and “Congress (2017),” which they considered just about the program documents of the “Networks” and which formed the basis of the criminal case against you. What kind of documents were these?

They were unable to gain access to my laptop. I told them the password under torture, but it was wrong. They did not check it on the spot, but they threatened me severely that I would be screwed if the password did not work. When the password did not work, they could no longer reach me.

One of the files was from Arman Sagynbaev's hard drive, the second - from Ilya Shakursky's laptop. I don't know how it turned out in their Penza case, but in ours the dates in the document from Sagynbaev's hard drive did not match: the drive was seized in November, and the file was created in December. The drive was examined only in March.

I can't say how these files were obtained. But we ordered an expert examination from the Ministry of Justice through the court. There was a pretty good examination that the so-called "Code" is not a charter, because it contains a bunch of repetitions, in not structured and is generally just a compilation of who knows what.

- What do you think about Igor Shishkin (a St. Petersburg defendant in the “Networks” case, who plead guilty and received 3.5 years as part of a plea bargain)? Did his testimony affect your sentence in any way?

I don't think it did anything at all. The three of us — me, Igor, and Yulik (Boyarshinov) — discussed our position at the transit center in Yaroslavl. We came to the conclusion that we would be imprisoned anyway and that the only question was the time frame. We decided that we needed to confess.

Viktor Filinkov and Yuli Boyarshinov at a hearing on the Network case in 2020. Photo: Petr Kovalev / TASS

Then — there, in Yaroslavl — I told the guys that I would not plead guilty due to  my beliefs and that I had no offence towards them. In fact, everything went just as I said: no one released us. Neither any communities nor human rights activists were able to resolve the issue.

Igor (Shishkin) told me the following story about (Russian Human Rights Commissioner Tatyana Moskalkova: she came to him in the FSS prison, he had also been tortured, his entire back was covered in burns, his eye socket was broken - he looked correspondingly. She asked him: "Were you tortured? Were you beaten?" He answered: "You understand that I have a pretrial agreement, I can't tell you anything, go to Filinkov." She nodded and said: "What else do you have here, what about domestic matters?" Igor said that everything was fine, yet there was no TV. And instead of going to me in the pretrial detention center, Moskalkova bought him a TV, although she was clearly told who to go to and with whom to talk about torture.

- Meduza’s article about the Ryazan forest (about how some of the defendants in the Penza “Networks” case may be connected with two murders) came out shortly before the start of the hearing on the merits of your case. Did this somehow affect the court’s decision or your position in the pretrial detention center?

It didn’t affect us (the defendants in St. Petersburg) in any way. But I was generally shocked when I found out.

I understood that Ivankin most likely would not be charged in that case, but then it appeared that he confessed for murders under torture — that was also a shock to me. A knight’s move by the Investigative Committee.

Althogether I thought that they would give him a life sentence, (but he was sentenced to 24 years in prison). And that was yet another shock.

"I managed to communicate with two artificial intelligences on my resemblance of a laptop": about the first weeks of freedom and plans

- Do you keep relations with your ex-wife? How did the divorce process even pass when one person is in prison and the other is in exile?

We talk. But it was hard to divorce. Zhenya helped us. The only thing I did was to write a statement of claim to the court. Zhenya and Solya (Alexandra Aksenova) did the rest.

Solya wrote a letter stating that we were not in a relationship and that we needed to get a divorce, had it certified by a notary in Finland and sent it to St. Petersburg. Zhenya went to courts, negotiated with court secretaries, brought all the necessary papers.

- You grew closer with Zhenya when you were already in prison. How did that go?

At the first hearing about extending the preventive measure, I heard Zhenya’s voice — she was shouting to me from the corridor. Then we corresponded, she was in my support group and became my defense attorney in the criminal case. Just a couple of months later we confessed to each other — and we have been together ever since (at the beginning of 2024, the couple got married in the colony — editor’s note).
Vitya and Zhenya. Photo was provided by Victor’s friends

- You spent seven years in prison. What are your impressions after two weeks at large?

To be honest, I'm not entirely sure that everything is real. I’ve just washed the floors — may look like an ordinary thing, but everything seems to be in fog for me.

I've already talked to two artificial intelligences on my resemblance of a laptop. By modern standards, my laptop is a piece of junk. Zhenya saw that the tabs on it did not switch normally (I switch a tab and wait from three to 20 seconds), she's shocked.

But anyway, even on my drivers there is a small artificial intelligence that speaks very slowly. I asked it to pretend to be Ron Weasley from Harry Potter, and it said: "Yes, of course, I know, he is a famous athlete, he is very skilled, especially in golf." Nevertheless, I am impressed, amused and happy with all this. AI is what I was really waiting for. It developed just in the time that I spent in jail.

- What are your plans?

I don’t know what I’m going to do next. I haven’t even taken a full breath yet. I’m incredibly busy right now. I have no time, especially no processing time. I could probably think faster, but my brains can’t handle it.

It’s very hard to get back into a routine after leaving the prison. This morning, while I was making scrambled eggs, I was talking to a prisoner who was released a few days after me. He was also making scrambled eggs. His child screamed in the background, and Zhenya walked next to me. And both the prisoner and I shared the same feelings: it’s like we’ve been crushed by a slab, and by the middle of the day our heads already become swollen.

- You lost a lot of weight in the colony. How is your health now?

Health is a crap. Very bad. My back hurts a lot, there is a constant ringing in my ears — most likely, something is wrong with my brain vessels.

I don’t have money for private doctors. Now I’m trying to register in a clinic, but the other day they sent me to register with specialists online. In general, I still haven’t had enough strength to register and get to, at least, a therapist, not to mention a neurologist, a dentist, and so on.

- Do you miss Petersburg?

I do. I miss it very much.

I can’t go back for another eight years. I don’t know if I’ll ever return to the country, it’s hard to predict. It all depends primarily on the Russian authorities.

- How has imprisonment changed you?

I've grown softer. I would justify anyone.

- Why? After talking to different people?

I don’t know... But I talked to people, of course. There are such absurd stories! A man stole four bottles of Kalina Krasnaya, and his accomplice kicked a security guard. But the accomplice was a minor so they made the organizer of the attack out of a 21-year-old boy, though it is obvious that the accomplice-juvenile committed an excess of violence. This man will have to sit for five years because of that damned vodka, and he has a two-year-old child at home.

Maybe I have reached Zen. I feel sorry for everyone, it is hard to judge.

- Have you managed to meet your Kazakh relatives?

- Constantly! And tomorrow too! Everyone is very happy: I eat beshbarmak, I eat kurt, I drink shurpa. It’s a blissout. They feed me everything in sight.

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