On December 10, the world marks International Human Rights Day. On this day, themes of freedom, dignity, and equality resonate globally; however, for Ukraine, and particularly for occupied Crimea, these words are fraught with pain and despair. On the peninsula, which has been under Russian occupation for ten years, human rights are mercilessly trampled, and those who refuse to remain silent face persecution, torture, and imprisonment. Over the years of occupation, Crimea has become a territory of systematic lawlessness, where human dignity holds no value.
There is no human right that has not been violated by the Russian occupation administration in Crimea. Systematic suppression of freedoms and the destruction of cultural, national, and religious identity have become cornerstones of the occupiers’ repressive policies. The number of registered religious communities on the peninsula has plummeted from 2,083 to 907; churches of the Orthodox Church of Ukraine are being confiscated or closed, the activities of the Mejlis of the Crimean Tatar People are banned, and its members are subjected to constant pressure, arrests, and politically motivated trials.
The deliberate suppression of the Ukrainian language has become another tool of assimilation. The number of students studying in Ukrainian has plummeted from 12,694 in the 2013/2014 academic year to just 197 in 2022/2023. Only one Ukrainian-language school and a single class offering instruction in Ukrainian remain across the entire peninsula.
Forced passportization was one of the first tools used to assert control over the local population. Residents of the peninsula were forcibly declared “citizens of Russia,” and refusal to accept the so-called “Russian passport” resulted in the deprivation of the right to reside in their own homes, eviction, deportation from the peninsula, and the fabrication of criminal charges.
Since 2014, Crimea has witnessed 104 cases of enforced disappearances, with 21 individuals still missing. Additionally, 55 documented cases of torture include beatings, electric shocks, mock executions, and other forms of psychological terror.
There are 218 political prisoners, of whom 132 are Crimean Tatars. Each statistic represents broken families, parents torn from their children, and shattered lives. These individuals are imprisoned for their ethnicity, religious beliefs, participation in peaceful gatherings, or sometimes merely for their love of their homeland and courage to speak the truth. In some cases, even refusing to leave their homes is enough to warrant imprisonment. Political prisoners face sentences of 15–20 years in maximum-security penal colonies for “crimes” that, in a civilized world, are considered rights to freedom of thought and expression.
Occupation “courts” in Crimea have issued convictions in at least 15 cases involving journalists and citizen journalists, sentencing them to various terms of imprisonment. Most of those convicted are Crimean Tatars who reported on human rights violations, unlawful actions by the occupational authorities, and systemic repression on the peninsula.
In Russia’s eyes, anyone can be an enemy: a 10-year-old girl recording a video on social media in support of Ukraine is accused of “discrediting” the Russian army. A 60-year-old pensioner who dares to voice disagreement with the occupation administration is branded a “spy for Ukrainian intelligence” and sentenced to 12 years in a penal colony thousands of kilometers from home for “treason.”
An enemy can also be a “UA” sticker on a car, which serves as grounds for detention and forced removal of the symbol on the spot as a display of submission and “loyalty.” Even more, Ukrainian music—from Verka Serduchka and Okean Elzy to the anthem “Good Evening, We Are from Ukraine”—is deemed threatening.
Since the beginning of the full-scale invasion, occupation courts have initiated over 1,093 cases against residents of the peninsula for “discrediting” Russian occupation forces, imposing fines in 955 of those cases.
Particularly striking are the cases where individuals are punished for the slightest attempts to maintain a connection to home. The occupiers detain people who come to the peninsula to visit relatives or attend the funerals of loved ones. In Yalta, a woman who traveled from abroad to bid farewell to her mother was arrested directly at the cemetery. Similarly, Leniie Umerova spent over a year and a half behind bars, detained simply for traveling to Crimea to visit her terminally ill father.
Furthermore, over 50,000 Crimean residents have been forcibly conscripted into the Russian army and compelled to fight against their own country. Among the 1,453 soldiers from units stationed in occupied Crimea who have been killed, 950 are likely to be Ukrainian citizens.
The repressive policies of the Russian occupation administration not only violate fundamental human rights but also aim to erase the cultural and national identity of the peninsula’s residents, exemplifying a deliberate colonial strategy. On the occupied peninsula, human rights have been reduced to an empty concept. Yet, even in such dire circumstances, people refuse to give up. Those who remain committed to freedom and dignity continue their struggle, despite the immense risk of losing everything.
Life in Crimea is a daily battle for the freedom to be oneself. And this struggle will persist until Crimea is free again.