"We'll cut off your head": How Russians Tortured a Ukrainian Journalist During the Occupation of the Kherson Region
Source: Slidstvo.Info
Author: Yanina Korniienko
During the occupation of the Kherson region, the Russians abducted Ukrainian journalist Oleg Baturin to force him to become a mouthpiece for Kremlin propaganda.
Journalists from “Slidstvo.Info” spoke with Oleg Baturin, a correspondent for the Kherson newspaper “Novy Den,” about his work during the occupation and his captivity in Russia.
“THOSE WHO DARED TO LEAVE WERE SHOT”
After February 24, 2022, many Ukrainian media professionals were forced to become war correspondents—they began reporting on Russian crimes in the occupied territories.
Journalist Oleg Baturin is from Kakhovka in the Kherson region, which Russian forces occupied in the early days of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine.
Oleg Baturin is a journalist for the newspaper “Novy Den”
According to the journalist, there were a great many Russians and a lot of military equipment in Kakhovka. The occupiers shot people at checkpoints who were trying to leave the city.
“There were reports that the occupiers weren’t letting anyone through the checkpoints—they wouldn’t let anyone pass without a pass… Those who dared to leave were shot. It wasn’t clear whether they were shooting everyone or just certain people… It was very scary,” the journalist recalls.
Oleg Baturin says he read in official sources about the abduction of nearly 600 people in the Kherson region. However, at the time, he considered this information to be pure fiction, since there was no confirmation.
“My relatives warned me that they were passing on ‘greetings’ to me through them… I don’t know how to put it, but back then, on March 12, that Saturday, I did have a certain premonition,” says Oleg.
“WE’LL CUT YOUR HEAD OFF”
Oleg received a call from Serhiy Tsygipa—a volunteer from Nova Kakhovka with whom he had been exchanging information about the situation in their cities since February 24, 2022—and he asked to meet.
“We agreed to meet at 5 p.m. at the bus station in Kakhovka. Well, I don’t know, I had a bad feeling… I remember that the last news item I posted was about the occupiers planning to hold a referendum… and I closed my laptop around 4:40 p.m.,” Oleg recalls.
When the journalist arrived at the meeting place, the volunteer wasn’t there. Instead, a civilian car with Ukrainian license plates was parked on the street.
“It was cold, so I put on a warm winter jacket and headed to the bus station. Tsygipa wasn’t there… I realized there was no point in running or hiding somewhere. I just walked quickly… Because there were so many kiosks clustered together, they (the occupiers—ed.) didn’t notice me right away. I managed to walk almost to the end of the platforms,” says Oleg.
The Russians threw Oleg to the ground, pinning him with their knees, and began twisting his arms.
“They put handcuffs on me and pulled the hood of my jacket over my face. They pressed my head down so it was as low as possible. They started beating me—kicking me and hitting me with rifle butts,” Oleg recalls.
After the interrogation, they threw him onto the floor of the car and drove him to the Novokakhovka City Council, where the Gauleiter of Novokakhovka—Vladimir Leontyev—was waiting for him.
“I recognized him right away because I’d already seen what he looked like in a photo. And he was the subject of my article… They started threatening me (Leontyev and another man in military uniform—Ed.), telling me how they were going to kill me,” says the journalist.
Oleg recounts that Leontyev began describing in detail how he would kill the journalist: “He said, ‘I’ll take a knife and peel the skin off you so you’ll die slowly and in agony, bleeding to death… Then we’ll cut off your head. We’ll cut off your arms and legs. First your fingers, then the skin on your fingers.” He struck me as a psychopath.”
In the cells where the occupiers held the captives, interrogations were conducted every day. The Russians knew very well what Oleg Baturin did for a living.
“Everyone knew exactly—absolutely exactly—who I was… I get the impression that they didn’t just take people for no reason. They all knew I was a journalist. This Leontyev knew—he said so himself—and he mentioned my article. The FSB agents constantly interrogated me: ‘So, are you a journalist, Baturin?’” says Oleg.
He told “Slidstvo.Info” that the Russian occupiers were specifically interested in information about journalists. They tried to find out their names, addresses, and phone numbers.
“DAD WILL DEFINITELY COME BACK”
Oleg’s wife, Natalia, sat by the window, hoping her husband would be released.
Natalia Baturina — the journalist’s
wife “We were at home with our child until 9 p.m. I thought he’d come home… As they say, they’d have a ‘chat’ with him and let him go… And so that David (our son—ed.) could get some sleep, because he was there for me. He kept hugging me and saying that Daddy would definitely come back,” Natalia says through her tears.
While the Russians were holding Oleg captive, his son David supported his mom and believed that his dad would be released.
“I told him that everything would be okay, that he wouldn’t be lost, that we’d wait. On the first day, I said, ‘Let’s wait a little longer; he’ll definitely come back.’” It was hard for me, too, but I didn’t show my emotions… I knew he wouldn’t die there,” says David.
David Baturin—son of a journalist
“COOPERATION” WITH THE FSB
Oleg Baturin believes he was interrogated by a representative of the Russian special services: “I have the impression that an FSB agent was ‘working’ with me, because his behavior was very characteristic. I spent about 6 hours in that office with a hood over my head and tape around it.”
The man was pressured, demanded to reveal the contacts of “three fascists,” and forced to sign a document agreeing to cooperate with the FSB.
“They forced me to sign a piece of paper that read: ‘I, Oleg Igorevich Baturin, hereby pledge to cooperate with the federal agencies of the Russian Federation. O. Baturin and signature,” says Oleg.
Oleg Baturin is a journalist for the newspaper “Novy Den”
On the morning of March 20, 2022, Russian soldiers entered Oleg’s cell and ordered him to get ready: “They just walked into the cell and said, ‘Pack your things; we’re taking you home.’ They put a hood over my face again, tied my hands—but this time not with handcuffs, but with a plastic tie—and took me to Kakhovka.”
Oleg’s wife recalls that when her husband returned home, she didn’t recognize him: “When I saw him, he could barely walk, and honestly… I didn’t even recognize him. He’d lost weight, and, as it turned out later, he had broken ribs.”
“When he first came to us, he’d been there for seven days… Some people were held for two or three months, but he was only there for seven days—yet it still felt as if he hadn’t eaten for a whole year,” says David.
WHO IS THE PERPETRATOR
During one of the interrogations with Gauleiter Leontyev, a man who introduced himself as Otaman Ivanovich threatened the journalist. Oleg Baturin decided to identify his assailant.
“I was curious to find out who this Otaman Ivanovich from Donetsk was. I was sent several photos, without any last names. And staring back at me was the face of this man who had threatened me with the ‘troika’ (a body responsible for extrajudicial sentencing in the USSR, where three executioners sentenced people to death by firing squad—Ed.), which would shoot me,” says Oleg.
The journalist determined that this man’s name is Valentin Motuzenko. He is an advisor to the head of the so-called “DPR.”
Collaborator Valentin Motuzenko
Despite his experience in captivity, Oleg Baturin has not given up journalism. He works at the Crimean Center for Investigative Journalism and on the international project “Retribution: Ukraine Testifies.”
Oleg hopes that all perpetrators will receive just punishment for their crimes.
“They should face the same trial as the Nazi war criminals of World War II,” says Oleg Baturin.
If you prefer to watch the video with subtitles in another language, go to YouTube Settings → Subtitles → Auto-translate and select the language of your choice.
Author: Yanina Korniienko
During the occupation of the Kherson region, the Russians abducted Ukrainian journalist Oleg Baturin to force him to become a mouthpiece for Kremlin propaganda.
Journalists from “Slidstvo.Info” spoke with Oleg Baturin, a correspondent for the Kherson newspaper “Novy Den,” about his work during the occupation and his captivity in Russia.
“THOSE WHO DARED TO LEAVE WERE SHOT”
After February 24, 2022, many Ukrainian media professionals were forced to become war correspondents—they began reporting on Russian crimes in the occupied territories.
Journalist Oleg Baturin is from Kakhovka in the Kherson region, which Russian forces occupied in the early days of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine.
Oleg Baturin is a journalist for the newspaper “Novy Den”
According to the journalist, there were a great many Russians and a lot of military equipment in Kakhovka. The occupiers shot people at checkpoints who were trying to leave the city.
“There were reports that the occupiers weren’t letting anyone through the checkpoints—they wouldn’t let anyone pass without a pass… Those who dared to leave were shot. It wasn’t clear whether they were shooting everyone or just certain people… It was very scary,” the journalist recalls.
Oleg Baturin says he read in official sources about the abduction of nearly 600 people in the Kherson region. However, at the time, he considered this information to be pure fiction, since there was no confirmation.
“My relatives warned me that they were passing on ‘greetings’ to me through them… I don’t know how to put it, but back then, on March 12, that Saturday, I did have a certain premonition,” says Oleg.
“WE’LL CUT YOUR HEAD OFF”
Oleg received a call from Serhiy Tsygipa—a volunteer from Nova Kakhovka with whom he had been exchanging information about the situation in their cities since February 24, 2022—and he asked to meet.
“We agreed to meet at 5 p.m. at the bus station in Kakhovka. Well, I don’t know, I had a bad feeling… I remember that the last news item I posted was about the occupiers planning to hold a referendum… and I closed my laptop around 4:40 p.m.,” Oleg recalls.
When the journalist arrived at the meeting place, the volunteer wasn’t there. Instead, a civilian car with Ukrainian license plates was parked on the street.
“It was cold, so I put on a warm winter jacket and headed to the bus station. Tsygipa wasn’t there… I realized there was no point in running or hiding somewhere. I just walked quickly… Because there were so many kiosks clustered together, they (the occupiers—ed.) didn’t notice me right away. I managed to walk almost to the end of the platforms,” says Oleg.
The Russians threw Oleg to the ground, pinning him with their knees, and began twisting his arms.
“They put handcuffs on me and pulled the hood of my jacket over my face. They pressed my head down so it was as low as possible. They started beating me—kicking me and hitting me with rifle butts,” Oleg recalls.
After the interrogation, they threw him onto the floor of the car and drove him to the Novokakhovka City Council, where the Gauleiter of Novokakhovka—Vladimir Leontyev—was waiting for him.
“I recognized him right away because I’d already seen what he looked like in a photo. And he was the subject of my article… They started threatening me (Leontyev and another man in military uniform—Ed.), telling me how they were going to kill me,” says the journalist.
Oleg recounts that Leontyev began describing in detail how he would kill the journalist: “He said, ‘I’ll take a knife and peel the skin off you so you’ll die slowly and in agony, bleeding to death… Then we’ll cut off your head. We’ll cut off your arms and legs. First your fingers, then the skin on your fingers.” He struck me as a psychopath.”
In the cells where the occupiers held the captives, interrogations were conducted every day. The Russians knew very well what Oleg Baturin did for a living.
“Everyone knew exactly—absolutely exactly—who I was… I get the impression that they didn’t just take people for no reason. They all knew I was a journalist. This Leontyev knew—he said so himself—and he mentioned my article. The FSB agents constantly interrogated me: ‘So, are you a journalist, Baturin?’” says Oleg.
He told “Slidstvo.Info” that the Russian occupiers were specifically interested in information about journalists. They tried to find out their names, addresses, and phone numbers.
“DAD WILL DEFINITELY COME BACK”
Oleg’s wife, Natalia, sat by the window, hoping her husband would be released.
Natalia Baturina — the journalist’s
wife “We were at home with our child until 9 p.m. I thought he’d come home… As they say, they’d have a ‘chat’ with him and let him go… And so that David (our son—ed.) could get some sleep, because he was there for me. He kept hugging me and saying that Daddy would definitely come back,” Natalia says through her tears.
While the Russians were holding Oleg captive, his son David supported his mom and believed that his dad would be released.
“I told him that everything would be okay, that he wouldn’t be lost, that we’d wait. On the first day, I said, ‘Let’s wait a little longer; he’ll definitely come back.’” It was hard for me, too, but I didn’t show my emotions… I knew he wouldn’t die there,” says David.
David Baturin—son of a journalist
“COOPERATION” WITH THE FSB
Oleg Baturin believes he was interrogated by a representative of the Russian special services: “I have the impression that an FSB agent was ‘working’ with me, because his behavior was very characteristic. I spent about 6 hours in that office with a hood over my head and tape around it.”
The man was pressured, demanded to reveal the contacts of “three fascists,” and forced to sign a document agreeing to cooperate with the FSB.
“They forced me to sign a piece of paper that read: ‘I, Oleg Igorevich Baturin, hereby pledge to cooperate with the federal agencies of the Russian Federation. O. Baturin and signature,” says Oleg.
Oleg Baturin is a journalist for the newspaper “Novy Den”
On the morning of March 20, 2022, Russian soldiers entered Oleg’s cell and ordered him to get ready: “They just walked into the cell and said, ‘Pack your things; we’re taking you home.’ They put a hood over my face again, tied my hands—but this time not with handcuffs, but with a plastic tie—and took me to Kakhovka.”
Oleg’s wife recalls that when her husband returned home, she didn’t recognize him: “When I saw him, he could barely walk, and honestly… I didn’t even recognize him. He’d lost weight, and, as it turned out later, he had broken ribs.”
“When he first came to us, he’d been there for seven days… Some people were held for two or three months, but he was only there for seven days—yet it still felt as if he hadn’t eaten for a whole year,” says David.
WHO IS THE PERPETRATOR
During one of the interrogations with Gauleiter Leontyev, a man who introduced himself as Otaman Ivanovich threatened the journalist. Oleg Baturin decided to identify his assailant.
“I was curious to find out who this Otaman Ivanovich from Donetsk was. I was sent several photos, without any last names. And staring back at me was the face of this man who had threatened me with the ‘troika’ (a body responsible for extrajudicial sentencing in the USSR, where three executioners sentenced people to death by firing squad—Ed.), which would shoot me,” says Oleg.
The journalist determined that this man’s name is Valentin Motuzenko. He is an advisor to the head of the so-called “DPR.”
Collaborator Valentin Motuzenko
Despite his experience in captivity, Oleg Baturin has not given up journalism. He works at the Crimean Center for Investigative Journalism and on the international project “Retribution: Ukraine Testifies.”
Oleg hopes that all perpetrators will receive just punishment for their crimes.
“They should face the same trial as the Nazi war criminals of World War II,” says Oleg Baturin.
If you prefer to watch the video with subtitles in another language, go to YouTube Settings → Subtitles → Auto-translate and select the language of your choice.
This is an automatic translation generated by DeepL.