The eight men who unknowingly delivered the Crimean Bridge bomb are petitioning world leaders for help
Eight men sentenced to life in prison for the October 2022 Crimean Bridge explosion are seeking help from the presidents of the U.S., Russia, and Ukraine, as well as international human rights monitors. In their petition, the convicts maintain that they played no role in plotting the attack and were used unwittingly by Kyiv — a claim that former Ukrainian spy chief Vasyl Maliuk has confirmed publicly. They call for a political resolution granting them a pardon, amnesty, or inclusion in a future prisoner exchange. The Memorial human rights group’s “Support for Political Prisoners” project published the appeal in full, which Meduza has translated below.
The eight men sentenced in the Crimean Bridge explosion case:
Business owners Artyom and Georgy Azatyan from Krasnodar Krai
Oleg Antipov, owner of a logistics company from St. Petersburg
Alexander Bylin, a business owner from Crimea
Vladimir Zloba, a business owner and native of Kherson
Roman Solomko, a farmer from Kherson
Artur Terchanyan, a long-haul truck driver
Dmitry Tyazhelykh from Lipetsk, a partner in the OnlineSim service, which rented out virtual phone numbers
Distinguished Presidents! Distinguished human rights defenders at Memorial, Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch, the International Committee of the Red Cross, the U.N., and all who still believe in goodness and justice!
We are eight ordinary people: a driver, a logistics specialist, and business owners. People who used to get out of bed every morning to earn a living, pay our rent, and hug our children. But now, we are “terrorists.” We have been sentenced to life imprisonment — to a slow, humiliating death in the concrete cages of Russian prisons.
For what? For being in the wrong place at the wrong time during the Crimean Bridge explosion in October 2022. For being “convenient” suspects for the investigation. For simply… existing. We were all involved in the logistics of a standard civilian shipment: polyethylene construction film. Later, it turned out that a bomb was concealed inside the rolls. We were no more involved than the customs officers who waved the cargo through, or the driver who died in the blast. We were doing routine jobs — reloading cargo, driving, managing a warehouse. But this is not terrorism! None of us knew about the bomb. None of us belonged to an organized crime ring. None of us are Ukrainian agents, and none of us were complicit in the SBU [Security Service of Ukraine]’s plot!
The absurdity of the charges, the total absence of evidence of intent, the failure to establish a motive, and the public statements by SBU chief Vasyl Maliuk confirming we were used “blindly” did not stop the court from hearing the case and passing sentence. The court simply closed its doors to the public — it would have been too embarrassing to convict obviously innocent men with the press watching. The details of the bombing were fabricated. The “perpetrators” were designated. Not a single real terrorist or agent was arrested. Instead, eight random people were sentenced to life.
Our families are crumbling before our eyes. Our children are growing up as orphans with living fathers, asking every night, “Mom, when is Dad coming back?” Our wives are widows in all but name. Our parents are losing their sons while we’re still alive — some are being driven to madness by grief. And as for us… We can count only on death in prison — no funeral, no tears from relatives, no tombstone. This is the outcome of one of the most high-profile cases in modern history.
Russia and Ukraine are currently holding peace talks mediated by the U.S. The discussions have included proposals for a mutual amnesty for political prisoners. Rights groups are pushing for the release or exchange of all political prisoners in any final deal, emphasizing key criteria such as persecution for civic positions or beliefs, and the absence of casualties or serious damage in the alleged actions.
We, too, are recognized as political prisoners by [the human rights project] Memorial. But it seems we do not fit into any of the categories being prioritized by negotiators and rights groups. We are not civil activists, prisoners of war, or Ukrainian hostages. We are ordinary people — citizens of Russia, Armenia, and Ukraine — who were unlawfully arrested and unjustly sentenced to life imprisonment for events in which we played no part, for the deaths of five people, and for the enormous damages attributed to us. Consequently, we seem to have been left out of all humanitarian efforts…
We understand that our eight lives pale in comparison to global events affecting thousands. Even so, we appeal to the leaders involved in the peace negotiations between Russia and Ukraine, to all those involved in humanitarian issues, and to all international human rights organizations to consider our cases. Find a way to secure our release — if not through the judicial process, then through political resolution, pardons, or inclusion in prisoner exchanges or amnesty lists. We do not ask for the impossible; we ask for humanity. We wish only to see our children smile again, to embrace our wives and mothers, and simply to live.
With one last hope,
Artem Azatyan, Georgy Azatyan, Oleg Antipov, Alexander Bylin, Vladimir Zloba, Roman Solomko, Artur Terchanyan, and Dmitry Tyazhelykh.
Eight innocent men, condemned to death without cause.