How Russia is trying to turn Ukrainians into traitors

Svetlana says that she never thought of betraying her country, “not for a second.”

“My husband would never forgive me,” she says when we meet in her apartment outside Kiev.

The 42-year-old girl had been waiting for more than two years for news about her husband, Dima, a military medic, captured by Russia, when she suddenly received a phone call.

A voice at the end of the phone told her that if she betrayed Ukraine, Dima could get better treatment in prison or even early release.

“I got a call from a Ukrainian number. I picked up the phone, and the man introduced himself as Dmitry,” Sviatlana explains. “He spoke with a Russian accent.”

“He said: ‘You can either burn down the military police station, or set fire to a combat vehicle, or sabotage the box of the Ukrainian Railways.’

There was another option: to reveal the location of the nearest air defense units – vital military assets that protect the sky of Ukraine from Russian drones and missiles.

When Dmitriy presented his proposal, Svetlana says she remembered the instructions that the Ukrainian authorities gave to all families in case Russian agents approached: buy as much time as possible, record everything, take pictures and report.

Svetlana did report this and also took screenshots of the messages that the BBC showed.

The Security Service of Ukraine (SBU) ordered it to detain the Russians while they conduct an investigation. So she pretended to agree to plant a firebomb on a local railway line.

As we sit in her immaculate living room, air raid sirens wailing intermittently outside, she plays me recordings of two voice conversations she made on her phone with Dmitri via the Telegram app. During the conversation, he gives instructions on how to make and place a Molotov cocktail.

“Pour a liter of lighting fluid and add a little gasoline,” explains Dmitry. “Go to some railway junction. Make sure there are no CCTV cameras. Put on a hat, just in case.”

He also instructed Svetlana to put her phone on flight mode when she was within 1-2 km of the intended target to avoid her signal being picked up by cell phone masts that investigators might use.

“Do you know what a relay box is? Take a picture of her. This should be the purpose of setting her on fire,” explained Dmitriy, who demanded proof of the completion of the task.

“Write today’s date on a piece of paper and take a picture with that piece of paper.”

In return, Dmitrii said that he could arrange a phone call with her husband, or the delivery of a parcel to him.

Later, the SBU informed Svetlana that the person she was talking to was actually in Russia, and she should stop contacting her. Svetlana told Dmitriy that she had changed her mind.

“That’s when the threats started,” says Svetlana, “he said that they would kill my husband and I would never see him again.”

He called for days and said: “Your husband is being tortured, and it’s your fault!”

“How worried were you that he might follow through on threats to harm Dima?” – I ask Svetlana. Her eyes moisten. “My heart ached and all I could do was pray, ‘God, don’t let this happen.’

“One part of me was saying ‘this man has no connection with prisoners.’ Another part asks, “What if he really can do it?”

In a statement to the BBC, the SBU said that cooperation with Russian agents “will in no way ease the situation of the prisoners, on the contrary, it may significantly complicate their chances of exchange.”

Authorities urge all relatives to contact them immediately if they are approached by Russian agents.

Supposedly, those who do will be “protected” and treated as victims.

But if relatives agree to sabotage or espionage, the SBU says, “this can be qualified as treason. The maximum penalty is life imprisonment.”

The authorities regularly publicize the arrests of Ukrainians who allegedly set fires or provide Russia with the location of military facilities.

Pro-Kremlin media are full of videos on which Ukrainians allegedly set fire to military equipment or railway switchboards.

Some of the perpetrators do it for money paid by suspected Russian agents, but it is believed that the attacks are also carried out by desperate relatives.

Piotr Yatsenko from the Main Office for the Treatment of Prisoners of War of the Ukrainian Army says that about 50% of all families of prisoners of war contact Russian agents.

“They are in a very vulnerable position, and some of them are ready for anything,” says Petro, “but we are trying to teach them that this will not help (their loved ones in captivity).”

Petro says that such an act as setting fire to a military vehicle is not considered a significant material loss for the Armed Forces of Ukraine:

“But it can destabilize the unity of Ukrainian society, so this is the main problem.

And, of course, if someone shares the location of, for example, anti-aircraft defenses, this is also a big problem for us,” he admits.

The authorities do not publish the numbers of Ukrainian prisoners of war, but it is believed that there are more than 8,000 of them.

A source in the Ukrainian intelligence service told the BBC that there are few cases when relatives agree to work with Russia.

The Russian government told the BBC in a statement that allegations of using prisoners’ families as leverage were “baseless” and that Russia was treating “Ukrainian combatants humanely and in full compliance with the Geneva Convention”.

The statement further accuses Ukraine of using the same methods:

“Ukrainian operators are actively trying to force Russian residents to commit sabotage and arson on Russian territory, targeting critical infrastructure and civilian facilities.”

Svetlana’s husband Dima was released from captivity a little more than three months ago.

The couple is happy together again and enjoys playing with their four-year-old son Vov.

What did Svetlana feel when her husband was finally released?

“There were tears of joy like I’ve never cried before,” she says, beaming. “It felt as if I had plucked my love from the jaws of death.”

Dima told his wife that the Russians had not responded to their threats to punish him for her refusal to cooperate.

When Svetlana told about the calls, he was shocked.

“He asked me how I held up,” she says with a wink. “Well, as I always say, I’m an officer’s wife.”