Pyatak Prison: The Russian Alcatraz,history of pyatak prison, giographics of pyatak prison, pyatak prison

Pyatak Prison: The Russian Alcatraz

                                                   Pyatak Prison

About 460 km north of Moscow, in the Vologdaprovince, a small lake rests among a sprawling woodland. The lake is called Novozero and its middlestands an island called Ognenny Ostrov. Despite its name meaning “Fiery Island”or “Fire Island”, it is surrounded by ice most of the year, connected to the mainlandonly by a narrow bridge. Fire Island is home to one of the most desolateprisons of the Russian penitentiary system. Its official name is Prison No. OE 256/5, but convicts and guards call itsimply “Pyatak” – or “slash five” in Russian. At least until 2009, the high security prison,known as “Russia’s Alcatraz” housed 170 convicts, amongst the most violent criminalsin the Country. Unlike other prisons in the Russian Federation,like the infamous ‘Black Dolphin’, Pyatak is not the scene of violent clashes amongstrival gangs, rape or drug abuse. Sure, violence is still present, althoughnot as frequent. Life is relatively calm and slow paced. But there is something about ‘slash five’that drills into the minds of its inmates. Something subtle, and yet as brutal and souldestroying as constant bullying and abuse of power. It is the relentless regime of isolation,the absolute pointlessness of an empty life that can make the most merciless men beg fordeath.

 This is the island where your very soul deteriorates– if tuberculosis doesn’t get you first. Welcome to Pyatak, the most terrifying prisonin Russia A history of PyatakThe first recorded settlement on the ‘Fiery Island’ was not a place of punishment, rathera place for prayer and meditation. In 1517, a local Orthodox cleric, Cyril ofNovozero, later St Cyril, witnessed a column of fire descending upon the island, henceits current name. Interpreting the apparition as a divine sign,Cyril decided to fund a monastery. After four centuries of secluded prayer, theOctober revolution put the Bolsheviks in power. 

Their militant atheism put them at odds withthe Orthodox faith, which led to the confiscation of much of the Church’s wealth and possessions. Thus, St Cyril’s monastery was seized bythe Government and converted into a prison to lock up the enemies of the Revolution. The prison maintained its political functionthroughout the 1930s and 1940s. This is when Stalin’s regime used it aspenal colony for the victims of the Purges, which had struck at the Party and Militaryelites of the Soviet Union. In 1953, following Stalin’s death, Khrushchev’sprocess of de-Stalinization led to the closing of many secure facilities dedicated to politicaldissidents. In the case of the Island Prison, this wassimply converted to a ‘standard’ penitentiary housing ordinary criminals – albeit themost violent and dangerous ones. Fast forward forty years: The Soviet Unionhas collapsed, replaced by the Russian federation and the Confederation of Independent States. Up until the mid-1990s the death penalty wastill part of the Russian judiciary system. Capital executions were carried out by meansof a pistol shot to the back of the head. But on the 16th of May 1996 a decree by PresidentBoris Yeltsin ordered a gradual reduction of the death penalty, in preparation for Russia’sentry into the Council of Europe. In September 1996 authorities carried outthe last capital sentence on Russian soil, even though the death penalty was still enforcedin Chechnya until 1999. 

A 10-year moratorium on death sentences wasthen extended up until today. But what happened then to those criminalsthat would have previously been sentenced to a gunshot to the back of their heads? Following Yeltsin’s decree, 681 convictedcriminals awaiting execution had their sentences commuted to life – or at the very least25 years – in prison. Many of them were condemned to the next possibleharshest punishment: to spend the rest of their lives in the unrelenting white Purgatoryof Pyatak. DesolationLet’s now look in detail at the structure and surrounding of Pyatak. The Prison buildings occupy almost all ofthe surface of the tiny Fiery Island. The edges of the Island are entirely containedby two concentric sets of walls, with watch towers at every corner. Armed guards and police dogs patrol the perimeter. There are only two ways in and out of FieryIsland: either by foot, along a narrow wooden bridge, or by prison boat. All around are the waters of Lake Novozero,also known as White Lake. Despite the sinister reputation of its Island,this lake is one of Russia's most beautiful. The water is rich with fish and waterfowl,its shores surrounded by acres on end of tundra. The natural beauty of the area is undisputed,as is its desolation. To give you an idea, one of the most importantinhabited centres in the area is the town of Belozersk. The administrative capital of the Belozerskydistrict, it counts barely 9,000 inhabitants and the population has been declining steadilysince 1989.

 If you were an inmate at Pyatak and somehowyou managed to climb both sets of walls, evade the guards and their German shepherds, youwould still have to swim to shore in icy waters. Or alternatively, run the length of the woodenbridge as the wardens take easy aim from the watchtowers. Even if you made it to shore, you would stillhave to survive a trek of kilometres in harsh climate and unforgiving environment. And even if you made it out of the woods,you would have little chance to make yourself inconspicuous amongst the small towns andvillages in the region. No wonder then, that nobody has ever escapedfrom Pyatak. IsolationWe have now looked at Pyatak from the outside, but what is life inside like? What is it that makes it so terrifying? The prison’s regime, its rules, are simple,yet effective in achieving their goals. The main weapon of choice used by prison authoritiesto punish convicts and break their spirit is ruthless isolation. Upon arrival, each prisoner is placed in asmall cell with another inmate. Few distractions are allowed, certainly notTV or books. During the daytime the bed is stowed away,and the inmates are forced to stand, or sit on a tiny wooden perch a few inches wide.

 This goes on for 22 hours and a half a day,every single day. Infractions are punished with even starkerisolation. Misbehaving prisoners are sent to be lockedfor a minimum of 15 days in small, dark rooms with only a metal bucket as company. For the first 10 years of the convicts’sentence, they are allowed only two visits a year. Each visit can last no longer than two hours. After the 10 years have expired, men are allowedtwo additional visits per year, but of shorter duration. Convicts are able to receive parcels fromfamily and friends, but again, these are limited to only two per year. It is no surprise then if by the time a decadehas passed most of the prisoners have lost all contact with their families. Due to huge size of Russia’s territory itis common that most of the convicts’ families would have to travel for days, to then spendonly a couple of hours with them. Valery, a Siberian multiple murderer, interviewedby The Telegraph in 2004, told how he had asked his wife to seek a divorce upon learninghe was being sentenced to Pyatak. He had realised that maintaining their relationshipwould have been impossible: “When I came here I told my wife to geta divorce. She cried a little and we've never seen eachother since." Sanitary conditions are also dire. The prison structure is devoid of any properwashing facilities, nor lavatories. Inmates have to make do with just a bucket. What of exercise, or walks in the yard – astaple of life in every prison across the World? Technically, men at Pyatak are allowed someof it, but it’s almost a cruel joke. For an hour and a half a day they are permitteda walk in the open, but this is more like the pacing of a trapped predatory animal,in cages sized only 2 metres by 2. 

With no room nor equipment for physical activity,only the most determined manage to maintain decent levels of fitness. This situation surely contributes to the deterioratinghealth of most inmates, most of whom were already ill when ending behind bars. According to a human rights report from theU.S. State Department AIDS and drug-resistant tuberculosis are endemic. In general, conditions at Pyatak are deemedto be "extremely harsh and frequently life-threatening." Earlier I mentioned that there are only twoways out of Pyatak, by the bridge or by boat. But there are other ways out: one of themis with your feet first, inside a body bag. When a man dies, if his body is unclaimedby relatives, then it is taken to a small village graveyard near the island. Bodies are buried with little ceremony, undermarkers bearing serial numbers instead of names. All in the presence of just one or two ofthe guards. No prisoners can attend the burials. Another option used by prisoners is self-harm. Prison officials claim that convicts frequentlyswallow metal objects, such as teapot handles, spoons and bundles of nails, in the hope thatthey will be sent to the relative peace of prison wards in hospitals. The harsh conditions, the crushing feelingsof loneliness and emptiness have prompted many of the hardened criminals to seek solacein religion. 

But guards are sceptical of these late conversions. Chief Warden Vasily Smirnov, interviewed bythe Houston Chronicle in 2005, declared that finding religion is just a means for prisonersto receiving money and parcels from foreign evangelical groups. He stated that"Many use the pages from religious books as toilet paper"The inhabitants of Pyatak But who are the residents of Pyatak, and whatcrimes have they committed to deserve a life of nothingness? One tragic, exemplary case, is the one ofVyacheslav Sharoyevsky. During the last days of the Soviet Union,Vyacheslav was a rising star in the Soviet judiciary system. Aged just 29 he was a top prosecutor in theSmolensk region of Russia holding almost God-like powers over the locals. He had even been called to investigate, andthen bust, a large-scale corruption ring in Uzbekistan. But one day, in 1989, something went deeplywrong inside his head. He was overcome with boredom, he had grownweary of his life and wanted to feel alive again. So he decided to kill. He grabbed a knife and stabbed to death twowomen he barely knew, a book-keeper and a cashier, also stealing their money. Vyacheslav was sentenced to death. The day in which Vyacheslav’s head was dueto meet the cold muzzle of a pistol, a prison official came to the execution cell and toldhim his life would be spared. It was May 1996, the year of Yeltsin’s moratoriumon all executions.

 He declared to British journalist Julius Strauss:"I expected the executioner and instead Jesus Christ came. Since then I have prayed to God every day. I thank Him for the sun, the sky, life andour bread." Another inmate interviewed by Strauss, wasone identified only as Vladimir. In 1994, in St Petersburg he had killed twomen and two women. The plain motive for the killing? "I was drunk". Not all of the residents of the Island arepsychopaths or occasional murderers. There are reports of at least one terroristbeing held there: Nur-Pashi Kulayev – who may be Pyatak most notorious convict. Kulayev was the only survivor of a militantcell of Chechen insurgents that in September 2004 attacked a school in Beslan, in NorthOssetia. On the 1st of September Kulayev and other31 terrorists stormed the school, taking more than one thousand hostages, including primaryand secondary school children, their teachers and parents. The hostages were herded into the school gym,which was rigged with explosives. After two tense days, explosions from theinside prompted Russian security forces to launch an all-out assault against the insurgents.

 Their response was disproportionate, includingthe deployment of flamethrowers, grenade launchers and heavy machine guns. In the ensuing battle, 333 hostages, manyof them young children, died at the hands of the Chechen terrorists and possibly byfriendly fire. All the insurgents were killed, too, exceptfor Kulayev. He survived the gunfight, but was almost lynchedby a local mob. At the ensuing trial Kulayev denied killinganyone, but in May 2006 he received a life sentence for terrorist acts. His sentence was to be served inside Pyatak. The following year, he was rumoured to havedied in custody, a likely outcome considering the usual harsh conditions of Fiery Island,plus potential retribution at the hands of other convicts. News about Kulayev and about Pyatak in generalafter 2007 are hard to come by. However, in 2014, Kulayev resurfaced in adocumentary aired by Russia Today. The documentary identifies the penal colonyin which he is being held simply with the number ‘18’, however in one shot he appearsto be pacing inside one of the 2 by 2 cages in which prisoners are allowed to walk atPyatak. 

In the documentary Kulayev reads some letterssent to him by parents of Beslan’s victims. He appears confident, dismissive of the lettersand generally unrepentant. But Alevtina Luchnikova, senior psychologistat the detention facility, attested to Kulayev’s deteriorating mental state:“When I talked to him, he confessed he often has nightmares. He sees blood coming from the walls”The Psychiatric Effects of Solitary Confinement Back in 2004, another psychologist at Pyatak,Svetlana Kiselyova, had described to The Telegraph the effects of the prison’s enforced isolation:"This place destroys people. The first nine months or so they spend adapting. After three or four years their personalitiesbegin to deteriorate. There is no way anyone can spend 25 yearsin a place like this without being psychologically destroyed.” Curiously, she added:“The homosexuals are the ones who come off best - at least they are not starved of physicaland emotional contact." Which sounds peculiar, as solitary confinementwould apply also to homosexual detainees. These remarks aside, Kiselyova made an importantpoint: the lack of human contact, the lack of any form of mental stimulus, may causeone’s personality to gradually break apart. What are exactly the psychiatric effects ofsolitary confinement, in a structure such as Pyatak? 

According to a paper published by Dr StuartGrassian of Washington University in 2006, solitary confinement and institutional isolationcan bring about a very specific psychiatric syndrome. To clarify, a ‘syndrome’ is a set of symptomswhich consistently occur together. The symptoms identified by Dr Grassian are:Hyper-responsivity to external stimuli. In other words, the inability to tolerateexternal stimuli, such as the most ordinary noises. Perceptual distortions, illusions and hallucinations. Dr Grassian interviewed inmates across 200penitentiaries in the US, almost a third of whom reported hearing frightening, whisperingvoices. Panic attacks, which occurred in more thanhalf of the inmates interviewed. Difficulty in thinking, concentrating andretaining memories. Once you are in a position where you startlosing your memories, and you don’t have the opportunity to create new ones … that’swhen your whole personality, your own self begins to fade away. Obsessive thoughts, mainly associated withviolent fantasies of torture and mutilation. Feelings of paranoia and persecutory fears,often deteriorating into overt psychosis Loss of impulse control, resulting in actsof random violence or, more often, self-harm and suicide attemptsThe syndrome identified by Dr Grassian was, in his own words, ‘strikingly unique’. That is, some of the symptoms described hereare found in virtually no other psychiatric illness, especially the perceptual distortions. In lay terms: isolation does not just makeyou crazy.

 It makes you a very specific kind of crazy– a kind of crazy observed in only another medical condition: delirium, an acute organicbrain syndrome characterised by abnormalities in EEG’s and brain scans. This means that the symptoms brought aboutby isolation are consistent with those of a neurological, rather than just psychiatric,disorder. Trying to simplify again: they are consistentwith the symptoms typical of a disease of the brain as an organ, rather than a behaviouraldisorder. This seems to suggest that isolation and solitaryconfinement have an impact on the neurological structure and organic functioning of the brain. Dr Grassian’s long-term studies of formerprisoners of war, kidnap victims and prison inmates have demonstrated that many of thesymptoms outlined above tend to subside after release from confinement. However, there are also some long-term effectswhich may persist for decades. These include persistent symptoms of post-traumaticstress: as flashbacks, chronic hypervigilance, and a constant sense of hopelessness. In addition, these individuals also experiencelong-lasting personality changes. The most alarming is a pattern of rejectionof any social interaction: survivors will feel socially impoverished and withdrawn,even angry, or fearful, when forced into social interaction. In general, they have displayed patterns ofbehaviour dramatically different from their mental states prior to solitary confinement. If any of the convicts from Pyatak – orsimilar institutions around the World – were to make it back to society, they would beutterly incapable of interacting with it in a functional way. 

Dr Grassian concludes by highlighting theparadox of isolation and solitary confinement as a correctional tactic:Most of the prisoners housed in long-term solitary confinement facilities such as Pyatakare undoubtedly a danger to the community, as well as to fellow convicts and to prisonstaff. But in most cases, they are a danger not becausethey are coldly ruthless, but because they are driven by impulse, internally disorganized,riddled with paranoia and volatile. Isolation, and its associated syndrome, onlycontribute to feed this volatility and potential for explosive violence, in a self-perpetuatingcircle. Light at the end of the tunnel? It is not up to us to judge whether Russia,or other States, should entirely reconsider their prison system. A penitentiary like Pyatak, ‘slash five’,may be the only alternative available to the death penalty – or to more traditional andviolent prisons; the only alternative available to act as a deterrent to the most violentelements of society. Or at least, the only alternative given existingresources. 

What is a fact is that Pyatak is for surenot only the bleakest and most impenetrable prisons in Russia – it may be one of thebleakest and most impenetrable places on Earth, period. To quote again chief guard Vasily Smirnov:"It's necessary to understand one thing. The difference between this prison and othersis that in other places, prisoners see the light at the end of the tunnel”“Here?” “It's all darkness”But even among the darkness, a glimmer of hope can be found, a minuscule spark of amind on a resistance mission against total deterioration. Do you remember Vladimir, the drunken murdererof St Petersburg? Unlike other fellow prisoners, he found away to cope with isolation and to prevent the breakdown of his psyche. Soon after entering Pyatak, he took up oilpainting, transforming his cell is a gallery of rural Russian landscapes, painted frommemory. Perhaps the only one to say so, he declared"I don't want to leave here, I've made this room my home. One day it will be my mausoleum. Who knows, perhaps after my death I will befamous, and people will come and visit this cell. They'll say of me, 'He might have been a murdererbut at least he was a fine painter'."