Valeria Burlakova Press officer, Ukrainian office of Amnesty International

Ukrainian teachers under the Russian occupation: persecuted, brutalised, beaten

Culture & ScienceWar
25 October 2024, 13:00

In Russian-occupied regions, Ukrainian teachers have found themselves among the latest victims of escalating persecution and violence.

The first to be targeted by the Russian occupation forces were military personnel, police officers, and public service employees. But soon, the crackdown widened to include civil servants, community leaders, activists, and anyone openly expressing pro-Ukrainian sentiments. Many of these individuals were detained, abducted, tortured, and imprisoned. In some cases, extrajudicial executions were carried out—an unmistakable message to intimidate the population and demand unwavering loyalty and obedience.

Next came the crackdown on teachers, with a particular focus on those teaching Ukrainian subjects. Across every temporarily occupied Ukrainian territory, the strategy has been disturbingly consistent: reopen schools, reinstate former teaching staff, and impose a Russian curriculum meant to indoctrinate children and systematically erase Ukrainian identity.

Russians launched relentless searches, hunting down and incinerating any symbols of the Ukrainian state—maps, books, and textbooks—in schools and teachers’ homes. Their ruthless campaign sought to obliterate every trace of Ukrainian national heritage, leaving nothing but ashes in its wake.

Many teachers felt compelled to hide their professional identities to protect themselves and their families. “I was terrified that they [the Russian soldiers – ed.] would find out I was a teacher. I told my children to say I was a school cleaner if anyone asked,” Svitlana, a teacher from the Mykolaiv region, shared with Amnesty International. She explained that her fear was particularly intense because “Ukrainian and history teachers were Russians’ primary target.”

“If you wanted to avoid working for the occupiers in a newly reopened school, you had to disappear,” explained Tetiana, a history teacher from Kherson. The head of her school had agreed to collaborate and “pressured me to accept a position at a Russian-run school,” she recalled. Fortunately, Tetiana managed to escape the city, but her husband, who stayed behind, had to move in with his parents as occupation authorities and Russian soldiers began regularly visiting their apartment, searching for her.

Oleksandr, a school principal and geography teacher from a small town in the Zaporizhzhia region, faced similar pressures. When he refused to organise the meeting demanded by the Russians—citing health problems as his reason—he soon found himself under constant surveillance. The head of the occupation administration started showing up at his door, pressuring him to hand over the personal files of all the teachers at his school. Oleksandr told them he had burned the documents. “Every time I heard a car pass down my street, I was terrified,” he said, describing a life on edge, where each sound might signal the arrival of yet another confrontation.

His fears were not unfounded. Soon, four armed men stormed into his home, their intentions clear. “Two of them dragged me to my car, hitting me with their rifles,” he recalled, his voice trembling. “The other two stayed with my wife.”

Once outside, they took him to the schoolyard, where they beat him again, hurling insults that cut deep: “fascist” and “Nazi.” They demanded that he attend a school event and “endorse” the school’s operations by posing for photos with Russian state symbols. These images were not mere snapshots; they were intended as tools of coercion, proof of his supposed collaboration and support for the occupation. “They threatened me, saying that these photos alone would be enough for the Ukrainian authorities to accuse me of collaboration and imprison me.”

This harrowing experience is emblematic of the broader atmosphere of fear that has gripped the region. The threats, intimidation, harassment, abusive interrogations and searches, torture, forced expulsions, and illegal imprisonments are not just reflections of trauma or a desire to relive painful memories. They signify a desperate call for Russian accountability and an urgent need to finally acknowledge these crimes for what they are—an imperative that has grown ever more pressing since the onset of Russia’s years of war.

Amnesty International has been calling on Ukrainian authorities and the international community to take decisive action in documenting human rights violations in the occupied territories and to ensure that those responsible are held accountable. They emphasise the need for proactive and effective measures to protect victims and witnesses throughout any future investigations. Every known case of human rights violations must be thoroughly and independently investigated, involving relevant national authorities and, where appropriate, international mechanisms. Furthermore, victims of these abuses should be guaranteed meaningful access to remedies and appropriate reparations.

While this may sound optimistic, perhaps even a distant hope, for now, we hold steadfast to that belief. It is often said that what you believe in can become reality—if you are willing to work for it.

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