The return of every Ukrainian from Russian captivity is a moment of profound relief—not just for their families and friends, but for the entire country. There’s nothing more chilling than falling into the hands of a cruel and soulless enemy. The government, from the president down to local officials, regularly affirms its promise to bring home all hostages held in Russia—both soldiers and civilians—insisting this goal is at the heart of their work.
But the reality is far messier. The current prisoner exchange system simply doesn’t work. The way it operates—and the people running it—needs a serious rethink. That’s the blunt assessment from Denys Prokopenko, known as Redis, commander of the National Guard’s 1st Corps, reacting to the outcome of the latest large-scale exchange.
“Of the thousand Ukrainian prisoners of war returned today, not one is an Azov fighter. Yet a Ukrainian traitor who once begged Russian guards for a knife so he could cut the throats of Ukrainian soldiers has been handed back,” Redis wrote in a post on Facebook.
“This feels like mockery,” writes Denys Prokopenko, “a mockery of those who’ve spent four years under inhuman pressure in Russian captivity, surviving the most brutal conditions imaginable. Of their families, their loved ones, their brothers-in-arms. Of those who were given promises—people who have every right to be at the front of the queue for exchanges, because they didn’t surrender by choice, but under orders from their commanders.”
Just days ago, Ukraine marked the third anniversary of the Mariupol garrison’s withdrawal from Azovstal. Many had hoped that among the thousand-for-thousand prisoner swap just announced, there would be fighters from the Azov Brigade. That hope, he says, has been dashed.
“I will never buy the nonsense that the only reason Azov fighters are missing from most exchanges is because Russia refuses to hand them over. If that were true, neither I nor other Azov fighters would have made it back. The real problem lies elsewhere. If the system is broken and you keep doing the same thing while expecting a different outcome, that’s madness. The tactics must change.
“If the Russians won’t swap Azov fighters for their regular soldiers, then find someone they value more than a conscript from Omsk. Ukraine is crawling with Russian agents—our intelligence services know this all too well. They just need the green light. And frankly, I believe the priests of the Moscow Patriarchate, who openly serve Russian intelligence, would be of far more interest to the Kremlin than the soldiers they keep throwing at our front lines,” added Redis.
At the same time, Ukraine would do well to explore its potential role in prisoner swaps between Western allies and Russia. Ukraine has a unique experience, vital intelligence, and knowledge that’s of real value to the wider West. That, too, could become part of our bargaining power.
“There are options—we just need to adapt and start searching for new approaches. Because not a single Azov fighter among the 1,000 exchanged is a national disgrace. I can’t believe the authorities are truly committed to bringing Azov troops home when, four years on, the same people are still running prisoner exchanges with such little effect.”
The prison guard Redis refers to is Anatolii Taranenko, a former Ukrainian soldier who voluntarily surrendered to the Russian militants of the so-called Donetsk People’s Republic (DPR) back in 2021. According to those who knew him, Taranenko chose to defect after his commander barred him from gambling. It was a rare act of desertion on the Ukrainian side—one the Russian propaganda machine wasted no time exploiting. He was paraded through Donetsk, granted airtime, and gladly smeared his former comrades and the Ukrainian Armed Forces, pleading to be enlisted in the so-called DPR’s Republic’s militia.
But in the end, it all played out rather ironically. For his so-called “heroic act,” Russians threw Taranenko into a pit, where he remained for four years until he was finally exchanged. Yet that’s not the full story. Those who crossed paths with him in captivity say that, desperate to curry favour with the Russians, Taranenko asked the guards for a knife so he could torture his fellow Ukrainians. He reportedly even expressed a wish to gain Russian citizenship and fight alongside the Russians. Now, of course, he will face justice from Ukraine’s Security Service, and he will most likely remain behind bars—this time in a Ukrainian prison. Still, the precedent is deeply unsettling. While more than 800 fighters from the Azov Brigade’s 12th unit continue to languish in Russian captivity in their fourth year, Ukraine is bringing back a man like this.
And this is not an isolated case, says Hennadii Kharchenko, an artilleryman and Azov veteran who spent over two years in Olenivka. “With every prisoner exchange, I search the photos with hope, looking for familiar faces—those who truly proved themselves heroes during the battles for Mariupol. Those who bore themselves with dignity in captivity. Those urgently in need of medical care. Those ready to return and keep fighting bravely for victory,” Kharchenko wrote on Facebook. “But every time, instead of my brothers-in-arms, I see the faces of traitors and deserters among those exchanged.”
“Claims of a “constant fight for every hero” and that “each case is being closely followed” are little more than hollow rhetoric. In reality, we usually get back only those prisoners Russia is willing to release.”
“I’m genuinely glad for every single person who returns from captivity—and for their families and loved ones. I’m not here to argue that Azov fighters are somehow more deserving than other true heroes,” says Kharchenko.
“But we surrendered under specific promises from military intelligence generals. One of them told me, word for word, after I handed over my rifle leaving Azovstal: “Thank you for your service. We’re sending you off now, but we’ll be welcoming you back in three, four months at most. That’s for the officers. Soldiers and sergeants will be exchanged much sooner. We’ll send your personal belongings home, stay in contact with you while you’re captive, you’ll have access to the Red Cross, and you’ll be treated as honourable prisoners.”
Kharchenko continues: “I remember that general clearly. I hope he has the courage to admit those promises were made—just as he must admit that not a single one was kept. After I was released, officers from Defence Intelligence (GUR) told me it made no difference to them who was exchanged — they said it was all the same because they’re all Ukrainian citizens. Of course, every prisoner is a citizen of Ukraine and deserves to come home. But those earlier promises must still be honoured.”
“Azov fighters are not a subject for empty, pompous PR, especially when traded alongside known traitors. To me, they represent far more than just ‘equal citizens of Ukraine.’ That’s why the entire prisoner exchange process must be recognised as deeply flawed. A full investigation into how it has been managed is essential. The heads of Defence Intelligence and other officials who have failed to honour their commitments — those who blur the line between heroes and traitors — owe the country at least an apology and should consider stepping down.”
Harchenko’s assertion that “our side only takes back those whom Russia agrees to release” was effectively confirmed by Andriy Yusov, deputy head of the Coordination Headquarters for the Treatment of Prisoners of War, in comments to Suspilne regarding the case of Taranenko. “We had no control over the lists. Russia handed over those it was willing to release, and Ukraine did the same. From here, it is the responsibility of law enforcement to investigate and respond according to the law if any information is confirmed,” Yusov said. He added that while Ukraine is doing everything possible to bring every citizen home, it cannot influence Russia’s decisions.
