‘Thugs are more trusted than the authorities’ How Russia’s world of ‘fixers’ has changed since the start of the war in Ukraine
In Russia, you don’t have to look too hard to find “tough guys” offering to help you deal with sensitive issues, whether they be business-related or personal. These men, referred to as “fixers,” are considered to have reached their heyday in the 1990s — but they continue to offer their services in dealings between business partners, embittered exes, or even in matters involving the state. Olesia Ostapchuk, a special correspondent for independent media outlet Holod, dove into the world of Russia’s “fixers,” learning more about their main clients, their work both inside and outside the bounds of the law, and how their profession has changed since the start of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine. Meduza in English is publishing an abridged translation.
‘Apply a little pressure’
It’s unlikely that anyone who knows 33-year-old Marcel Gasanov was surprised when, in October 2023, police caught him outside of Kaspiy, a notorious cafe known to be a hub for crime bosses in the city of Yekaterinburg. This wasn’t the first time Gasanov had been involved in local criminal affairs: he’d previously served a stint in prison for robbery and received a suspended sentence for possession of firearms. Now, Gasanov works as a “fixer,” according to local media reports.
“Fixers,” as they’re commonly referred to, are hired to resolve a wide variety of issues for which a client either can’t, or doesn’t want to, contact the police or state authorities. While requests most often entail debt collection, they can range from “problems with unruly neighbors, troublesome employees, and unreasonable relatives” to helping those who have been “scammed out of large sums of money by their ‘loved ones’” and even getting people out of cults. “I do the work that others won’t take on,” says one fixer from Vladivostok.
According to Yekaterinburg outlet E1.ru, Marsel Gasanov “doesn’t even wear a mask” when he’s on assignment — he knows he has the support of the authorities. Tellingly, he didn’t face any criminal charges for the incident at Kaspiy or for his involvement in another conflict between rival management companies in February 2022.
Fixers’ services are often publicized on Avito, Russia’s most popular classified ads website. Though Dmitry Krylov’s (name changed) listings on Avito don’t explicitly mention his profession, he offers to “resolve any unusual issues,” “restore justice” and “get back your child, finances, or property.” “We can do anything for money, and for good money, absolutely anything!” reads one ad.
Recently, a worker at an auto repair shop told Krylov about an individual who owes him money, and asked him to “apply a little pressure, you know, give a bit of a nudge.” Krylov receives all sorts of offers — once, a teenager even asked him to “deal with” one of his teachers who had “said too much” to his parents, prompting Krylov to clarify that he doesn’t commit murder.
“We try to do everything within the bounds of the law,” Krylov explains. “Though there are, of course, some exceptional circumstances.”
‘Fixers used to be gangsters, now they’re more likely to be officials in uniform’
In Russia, “fixers” refer to a wide range of individuals — well-connected scammers who have influence over lawmakers, lawyers who can be bribed into ensuring a desired outcome in a criminal case, and those willing to have tough conversations with noisy neighbors.
One researcher says fixers fall into the two following categories: those in the criminal world who collect debts and help squeeze out competitors, or middlemen who know the right people in government and can achieve results faster or without the red tape. The first category is extrajudicial, while the other takes advantage of the law.
“In my understanding, the most important ‘fixers’ are corrupt middlemen who take bribes,” explains one of Holod’s sources. “They’re usually former employees from the police force, law enforcement, the prosecutor’s office, or agencies addressing economic crimes.” “Fixers used to be those gangsters from the 1990s,” the source adds. “Now they’re more likely to be officials in uniform.”
Some fixers lobby for semi-legal or illegal businesses that produce bootleg alcohol, sell counterfeits, provide sex services, or run underground casinos. “They need a person who has influence, so that [the authorities] won’t touch [their] interests, or when they do, it’s coordinated,” explains one insider.
But there’s another group of fixers — those willing to get involved in even the smallest assignments such as “punishing” an unfaithful husband. “It all depends on the amount of money offered,” said one source. “[They will engage in] all kinds of petty crime: torching a car, beating someone up.”
Asked if fixers face punishment or prosecution, one of Holod’s sources said they’re “only jailed when they step out of line.” “Or if they go too far. For example, [if] the person they beat up ends up dying. Or they set fire to a car, and it’s outside the mayor’s house.”
‘Even the state occasionally turns to us’
Andrey Petrov (name changed), a fixer, says people usually come to him for problems related to debts and fraud. But he “carries out delicate assignments” all around the globe — helping locate people, accompanying and transporting cargo. “We have employees in China, in Vietnam,” he says. “There are some who work in Europe, although it’s difficult now.” Petrov says that he’s often enlisted to help people look for someone, given that so many people have now left Russia. “Even the state itself sometimes turns to us instead of to the police,” he adds.
When it comes to requests involving violence, not all fixers abide by the same principles, says Dmitry Krylov. “There are shadier guys who will come and do it.” “They’ll set apartments or cars on fire for 5,000-10,000 rubles ($54-$110),” Krylov explains. “Someone gets cut off while driving, they remember the license plate, and they have the cash. And they’ll say ‘We’ll find out where it’s parked, it needs to be torched. We have the money.’”
These types of fixers aren’t usually found through Avito but via word of mouth. One of Holod’s intermediaries inquired whether any of these “shadier” fixers were willing to speak with journalists. In response, these fixers promised to “smash their faces in.”
‘Requests have become increasingly violent’
After the start of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2022, fixers started receiving new types of requests, says Petrov: “Those who left during mobilization want to know if they’re being pursued [by law enforcement agencies], and how they can return without getting in trouble.”
Active-duty military personnel also contact fixers. “Mainly to check on their wives while they’re away,” explains Petrov. “Imagine, a person is at war for a year and they don’t know what’s going on at home.”
In the two years since the start of the war, fixer Dmitry Krylov says the requests he receives have become increasingly violent. Before, most clients would contact him for debt collection. Now, he says, they ask him to “beat someone up or break their legs.”
“People have less trust in the authorities,” Krylov continues, reflecting on how the work of fixers has changed. “Now, they’re more likely to believe that some sensible guys will be better able to solve things than the police. God forbid it turns into a situation where thugs are more trusted than the authorities. Although it seems like that’s the direction we’re headed.”
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Written by Olesia Ostapchuk and edited by Aleksandr Gorbachev for Holod. Adapted and translated for Meduza in English by Sasha Slobodov.