Late Justice: Posthumous Amnesty. Power Admits Repression Only When Doing So Costs Nothing

Victims of political repression often wait decades for release. Even after regimes fall, their fates diverge: some receive full rehabilitation, while others receive only amnesty. Rehabilitation voids the conviction, while amnesty eases the sentence but does not acknowledge innocence. In many cases, these decisions were made only after the victims had died.

This was true of the victims of Stalinist repressions, many of whom were rehabilitated only posthumously. Similar processes took place in East Germany after reunification, where politically motivated convictions continued to be reviewed and annulled retroactively throughout the 1990s. Comparable mechanisms appeared in Spain for victims of the Franco dictatorship, in several Latin American countries after the fall of military regimes, and in Germany, the Czech Republic, Poland, Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia, and others after the collapse of communist governments and the invalidation of convictions handed down under the “people’s democracies” and socialist republics. For many members of anti-communist underground movements and of the 1956 and 1968 uprisings, rehabilitation came only after death. Another example is the UK’s “Alan Turing law,” which retroactively annulled tens of thousands of convictions issued under politically motivated “gross indecency” statutes. The law was introduced in 2013, the same year Alan Turing received a posthumous royal pardon — 61 years after his conviction and 59 years after his death by cyanide poisoning. 

Political Context of Prisoner Exchanges

Political prisoners, like all detainees, require state resources, and human rights groups add further pressure through complaints and monitoring. Yet an authoritarian regimes still finds it more advantageous to keep dissidents imprisoned at home rather than exchange them without securing sufficiently valuable counterparts. This is why the state refuses to acknowledge prisoners convicted for anti-war expression as political detainees: it forces international human rights experts to spend years examining the cases and identifying political motives buried beneath criminal charges.

Vladimir Bukovsky spent 12 years in prisons and psychiatric hospitals before being exchanged in 1976, and he was not formally rehabilitated until 1991. Even after rehabilitation, Russia denied him citizenship in 2014. The Soviet government never acknowledged him as a political prisoner — officially he was convicted under criminal statutes for “anti-Soviet agitation and propaganda” and “slander against the Soviet system.” The exchange became possible only once the USSR had a sufficiently valuable counterpart: Luis Corvalán, the General Secretary of the Chilean Communist Party, imprisoned under the Pinochet dictatorship for communist and opposition activity. In this way, the Soviet authorities could frame Bukovsky’s release as a strategic victory rather than a concession to the dissident movement.

One of the founders of the Moscow Helsinki Group, Natan Sharansky, was exchanged in 1986 after nine years in prison. There is no evidence that he was ever rehabilitated or granted amnesty. Sharansky was a human rights advocate for Jewish emigration from the USSR, and the authorities charged him with spying for the United States. Acknowledging that his conviction was unfounded would have meant admitting that the espionage case had been fabricated at the height of the Cold War, even though it had been presented as a model punishment for ties to the West and for demanding the right to emigrate to Israel. His exchange became possible only in the context of perestroika and the thaw, alongside arms-control negotiations and efforts to improve relations with the United States, serving as a symbolic gesture of willingness to ease tensions.

Decisions on Rehabilitation and Amnesty Often Come Decades Later 

The review of cases of Stalin’s victims began after Stalin’s death in 1953, and the process was driven by political considerations: at first, those closest to the ruling elite were released. Only later, in 1954–1960, special commissions reviewed hundreds of thousands of cases and issued rehabilitations to those whom the authorities were prepared to acknowledge as victims. Rehabilitation remained selective: socialists, socialist revolutionaries, social democrats, and intra-party opposition figures were not rehabilitated, because doing so would have meant admitting that terror was a structural feature of the system, not merely a product of the “cult of personality” of the late 1930s. Peasants who resisted collectivization were not rehabilitated on a mass scale either, since this would have undermined the core Soviet narrative that kolkhozes were created voluntarily.

The Russian law “On the Rehabilitation of Victims of Political Repression,” adopted on 19 October 1991, for the first time defined political repression, introduced the concept of a “political motive” on the part of the state, and set out a list of those eligible for rehabilitation. It also formally recognized victims of administrative repression, including those subjected to exile, deportation, or placement in special settlements. The law provided for the rehabilitation of people convicted for exercising their rights to freedom of conscience and expression, without requiring a review of their individual cases.

Swedish diplomat Raoul Wallenberg, arrested in 1945 by Soviet security services on charges of espionage and “anti-Soviet activity,” died within the Soviet prison system. He was officially recognized as a victim of political repression and rehabilitated in 2000.

German Catholic Gertrud Detzel, a native of the North Caucasus, was deported to Kazakhstan and convicted in 1949 for “anti-Soviet agitation and propaganda” — in practice, for her religious activity — was officially recognized as a victim of political repression and rehabilitated in 1989, and later again under Kazakhstan’s law on the rehabilitation of victims of political repression in 2022.

Most mass rehabilitations of those persecuted in the 1920s took place in the 1990s and 2000s. For example, a case was opened against the peasant Dmitry Malyar on 15 March 1923 on charges of “counterrevolutionary activity,” yet he was not legally rehabilitated until 23 June 2003 — eighty years later. Hundreds of thousands of similar cases remain unreviewed.

When Political Prisoners Wear Criminal Labels

After 1953, the authorities reviewed not only explicitly “political” cases but also the cases of people convicted under ordinary articles of the Soviet Criminal Code. But the logic was different: those convicted under criminal statutes received amnesties or pardons, not rehabilitation, and their cases were almost never treated as judicial mistakes. Their convictions remained, and their civil rights were not restored. Rehabilitation — a formal recognition that no crime was committed — applied only to those convicted under political or counterrevolutionary provisions, not under ordinary criminal ones.

Germany developed a more structured approach. Rehabilitation was understood as the review of convictions issued for exercising basic political rights — for example, freedom of expression, attempts to cross the border, or listening to Western radio stations. In the 1949 Constitution of the GDR, Article 6, Section II was applied in a way comparable to how modern Russia uses the Criminal Code article on “discrediting” the army or the authorities.: to anyone who criticized the state, the ruling party, or official institutions presented by state propaganda as “democratic.” In practice, even a comment containing the slightest criticism could be treated as a criminal offense.

A separate category consisted of cases formally prosecuted as ordinary criminal offenses — such as murder, theft, or fraud — but aggravated for political reasons. Harsher sentences were imposed on so-called “old fascists” and on owners of large enterprises or farms to facilitate state expropriation. The court of cassation could overturn a conviction only on points of law and had no authority to re-examine the facts or gather new evidence. But in cases involving the Stasi it was almost impossible to prove torture or coercion, because such methods were never documented in the case files. This created a dilemma: the injustice of these trials was evident, yet the law required affirmative proof of procedural violations. A similar situation is emerging in contemporary Russia, where Stasi methods are used by the Russian Federal Security Service and the Center for Countering Extremism.

In Poland, convictions for resisting collectivization and failing to meet compulsory state delivery quotas were overturned; quashing the conviction was treated as an acquittal, and the victim could claim compensation and restitution of property.

In several European countries, convictions for murder, robbery, or assault were annulled when they were linked to armed actions during uprisings: in other words, formally criminal offenses were recognized as politically driven and subject to cancellation.

In several post-Soviet states, the lists of those eligible for rehabilitation included people convicted under economic and property-related provisions when it was clear that the real aim was political — to break resistance or punish “anti-Soviet” behavior.

Two main approaches emerged in handling such cases. The first relied on general acts that automatically invalidated certain categories of convictions — based on specific articles, time periods, or links to particular events such as uprisings against the regime, resistance to collectivization, participation in resistance movements, and so on. The second involved individual procedures initiated by relatives of the convicted person: the convicted person or their family had to submit the case documents, and the court would then decide whether the conviction was void and determine the amount of compensation, taking into account both material and non-material damage.

Regimes acknowledge political repression only when doing so no longer threatens their legitimacy. As long as a government remains in power, it refuses to admit that it punished citizens for views it deems unacceptable. History offers no examples — and no reason to expect — that Russia’s penal system will recognize today’s dissidents as political prisoners.

Human rights organizations examine the cases of those convicted for anti-war positions and dissent against the authoritarian regime, documenting political motives hidden within criminal prosecutions. Sergei Davidis, head of the project “Support for Political Prisoners. Memorial” and co-chair of the Memorial Human Rights Center, explained to Freedom Zone how dissidents are recognized as political prisoners and described the current situation:

How fast we can review a case depends on the scale of the repression and on our resources. When people are charged under articles that have no place in a democratic society — things like ‘discrediting the army,’ spreading so-called fake news about the military, financing the Anti-Corruption Foundation, being a Jehovah’s Witness, or having served in the Ukrainian military units Azov or Aidar — the review is quick, because the very substance of the accusation is unlawful. But when someone is accused of something that would be considered a crime even in a democratic system, we have to examine the circumstances, and that can take anywhere from a few weeks to several months. In practice, we end up with a queue of such cases.

Foreign politicians and officials lack the expertise to assess political repression in Russia; apart from the most obvious cases, they are unlikely to determine it on their own. They will have to rely on assessments by human rights organizations.

Convicted as Criminals, Exchanged as Political Prisoners

The 1 August 2024 prisoner exchange, a rare positive precedent amid contemporary Russian repression, included individuals convicted under criminal statutes. Human rights defender Oleg Orlov, one of the founders of Memorial, was convicted under Criminal Code Article 280.3 (Part 1). Vladimir Kara-Murza was convicted under Articles 207.3 (Part 2, clauses “g” and “d”), 284.1 (Part 1), and 275. Ilya Yashin and Sasha Skotchilenko were convicted under Article 207.3 (Part 2, clause “d”); Lilia Chanysheva under Articles 239 (Part 3), 280 (Part 1), and 282.1 (Part 1); Andrei Pivovarov under Article 284.1; Kevin Lik under Article 275; Alsu Kurmasheva under Articles 207.3 and 330.1 (Part 3); and Vadim Ostanin and Ksenia Fadeeva under Articles 239 (Part 3) and 282.1. Legally, none of them is recognized in Russia as a political prisoner.

The Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe classified Oleg Orlov’s case as the persecution of a human rights defender and called for his release as a political prisoner.

The European Parliament, in its resolution of 20 April 2023, explicitly described Kara-Murza’s conviction as politically motivated and called for his “immediate and unconditional release, as well as the release of all other political prisoners.” The Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe, in Resolution 2541 (2024), likewise classified him as a political prisoner.

The European Union has called for the release of “all political prisoners, including Vladimir Kara-Murza, Ilya Yashin” and others, thereby explicitly placing them in the category of political prisoners at the level of the EU’s official external policy. In Council of Europe documents, Yashin is listed among Russian political prisoners and victims of arbitrary deprivation of liberty.

Sasha Skotchilenko appears in an EU statement within the OSCE framework alongside Kara-Murza, Yashin and others, in a list of individuals for whom the EU demands the “immediate and unconditional release of all political prisoners.”

The UN human rights office described Lilia Chanysheva’s detention as politically motivated and listed her among the political prisoners still detained in Russia on fabricated or politically motivated charges.

Andrei Pivovarov is cited in a Council of Europe report on political prisoners in Russia as a victim of repression under the laws on “undesirable organizations,” and in a UN Human Rights Council report he is listed alongside Kara-Murza and Yashin as being persecuted for political activity and an anti-war stance.

The UN formally included Kevin Lik in a Human Rights Council report as an example of arbitrary, politically motivated prosecution under the charge of treason. In European public discourse, he is regarded de facto as a political prisoner.

The European Parliament, in a joint resolution, names Alsu Kurmasheva together with Evan Gershkovich as victims of politically motivated persecution. Another European Parliament resolution designates Ksenia Fadeeva and Vadim Ostanin as political prisoners.

According to OVD-Info data as of 10 December 2025, 447 people have been persecuted under Criminal Code Article 207.3, 14 under Article 239, 16 under Article 275, 344 under all parts of Article 280 combined, 78 under Article 282, 2 under Article 284.1, and 16 under Article 330.1. In total, 1,387 individuals have been prosecuted in anti-war cases under criminal statutes. Charges also include terrorism- and extremism-related articles, as well as “justification of terrorism” and calls for terrorist or extremist activity. Since 2012, the OVD-Info database has recorded 5,723 people persecuted on political grounds.

Release Them All

Freedom Zone believes that any peace agreement should include a provision for the release of all political prisoners. Human rights organizations are documenting political motives in prosecutions across Russia and compiling databases of such cases. Although the Russian authorities punish formerly loyal supporters under the same criminal articles used against opponents of the regime, there are also sanctions lists, registries of war instigators, and other databases identifying those who — even if released from punishment under anti-war charges — would still face trial as war criminals or corrupt officials.

Critics of the mass release of political prisoners convicted under criminal or other anti-war articles often point to the case of Igor Strelkov (Girkin), who was convicted under the “anti-war” Article 280 (Part 2). But Strelkov was sentenced in absentia to life imprisonment by The Hague District Court in 2022 for the downing of Malaysia Airlines Flight MH17, and even if he were released as part of a political-prisoner amnesty, he would still serve the sentence imposed in The Hague. The same applies to other individuals recognized as war criminals or instigators of the war.

Anastasia Shevchenko of the Anti-War Committee commented for Freedom Zone,

There’s no reason to criticize the demand to free political prisoners. They are not criminals and shouldn’t be in prison. If there is an all-for-all exchange, I would certainly want political prisoners to be included. But that decision is up to Ukraine. We’re doing everything we can on our side.

Other human rights initiatives also argue that, instead of selective exchanges, all political prisoners should be released. For example, the People First campaign insists that any peace negotiations must prioritize the release of those who have lost their freedom because of the war. The initiative is supported by 60 organizations, including the Center for Civil Liberties, the International Memorial Association, Human Rights Watch, the International Federation for Human Rights, the Memorial Human Rights Center, the Kharkiv Human Rights Protection Group, the Moscow Helsinki Group, the Ukrainian Helsinki Human Rights Union, and others.

Sergei Davidis explained,

In the People First campaign, we work to free not only formal political prisoners but everyone who has lost their freedom because of the war — for statements or actions against the war or in support of Ukraine. Consider, for instance, someone who blows up railway tracks ahead of a train carrying military equipment. We can’t classify that person as a political prisoner, but the motive is clearly tied to resisting aggression, and without the war they obviously wouldn’t be behind bars. Everyone who has lost their freedom because of the war must be released, together with Ukrainian citizens — prisoners of war, deported children, civilian hostages. After the war ends, releasing political prisoners must be a condition.