Ukraine

The Orc: A Ukrainian accused of collaboration

Q&A with photographer Misha Friedman on his images of a Ukrainian accused of Russian collaboration


Yuri with the ‘Orc’ tattoo. Photographed by Misha Friedman, 2023.

In 2022 a Ukrainian coal miner Yuri was arrested for treason and confessed to sharing Ukrainian military information publicly. While awaiting trial in jail, Yuri’s story circulated and his fellow inmates brutally attacked him for being a traitor and tattooed his forehead with the word “orc”—a derogative term for Russians, inspired by the goblin-like villains in J. R. R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings. Yuri then received a 12-year sentence for having shared the military information.

In 2023, one year into Yuri’s 12-year sentence, photographer Misha Friedman, a long-time contributor to Stranger’s Guide, met him in prison in Ukraine and shot a portrait of him with the word “orc” visible above his brows. Misha’s photo sparked international attention and a government investigation after it was published in an article from The Guardian. The Ukrainian government, seeking to rectify the situation, facilitated the tattoo’s removal. Last October, Misha returned to Ukraine and photographed Yuri once again, this time with a clean forehead.

Yuri after the tattoos removal. Photographed by Misha Friedman, 2024.

Stranger’s Guide editor in chief Kira Brunner Don recently interviewed Misha about this story and the power of a photograph to inspire change, both for better or worse.

The following interview has been edited for length and clarity.

Kira Brunner Don: Let’s start with who Yuri is. Where did he live in Ukraine before he was arrested?

Misha Friedman: He lived in a small coal mining town in the Western part of the Donetsk region. He was a second generation coal miner.

KD: And what was he accused of?

MF: He was accused—and he doesn’t deny the accusations—of essentially passing on Ukrainian military information to the Russians. He wasn’t doing it for money however, it was purely for ideological reasons. He was sharing this information in open chatrooms and he was hoping that the Russians would come quickly. He had deep resentment over the Ukrainian troops in the country, resentments that went back as far as 2014 when the Ukrainian army began to be stationed in his hometown. So he was not shy about his beliefs, he even took great pride when we spoke that he never received any compensation.

KD: How did he pass on information to the Russians?

MF: He was doing it in open message boards and open channels. He wasn’t seeking out officers in Moscow, he was just posting shit. So he doesn’t know why officers from that region showed up. He just knows that he ended up in the pretrial detention center. It’s weird when you realize certain coincidences. For example, he was a coal miner for 12 years and he got a 12 year sentence.

KD: So tell me how did the tattoo happen?

MF: The tattoo happened right in that pretrial detention center. Almost as soon as he arrived, like within days. While he was waiting for trial, he was in this jail cell with other regular criminals. Word spread in that jail that he had been arrested for some kind of treason. But you know at that time, in 2022, emotions are so high. I don’t have all of the details but my understanding is that it was the career criminals in that jail that did some despicable things to him.

KD: Do you know what?

MF: Well, I don’t want to speculate but basically, they beat him up, they held him and forcibly drew the tattoo on his forehead. The tattoo said “orc,” which is the Ukrainian pejorative word for Russians, inspired by J. R. R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings. 

KD: Who else did you meet in the jail when you went to photograph Yuri?

MF: I met 12 people, men and women, all different ages, different circumstances, all accused of very different things. Yet every single one of them was coerced into pleading guilty before trial.

KD: And do you think some of them may not have been guilty?

MF: I’m not in a position to say but when 12 out of 12 plead guilty, it’s hard not to question it. Imagine how they’re treated in jail. All of them are being told, “you are a traitor, you are a scum, you should have been shot, you’re lucky to be alive, etc.” The prisoners are being told that there is more than enough evidence needed to convict them but that it’s war and so the trial might not happen for a while. They also know that there are prisoner exchanges being done but that in order to be included in the exchange, they have to sign papers and plead guilty. And most of them want to be included in the exchange.

There are some people like Yuri who hate Ukraine and want to go to Russia, but some of them don’t. Some of them just screwed up and ended up there in jail. So everyone is essentially agreeing to sign anything that will expedite the end of this nightmare for them. The Ukrainian prosecutors clearly knew that Moscow would have zero interest in these—what they perceive to be—sad losers. [Russian leaders] don’t even want their own soldiers—what interest do they have in Ukrainians who have made mistakes? To them, human life means nothing. These are just random Ukrainians.

KD: So what did Yuri do?

MF: Like everyone else, he confessed. He signed the agreement. Because also, going from jail to prison is a relief. It’s like going from a jail where you are in the cell for 23 hours a day to prison which is kind of like a camp. So none of the people I met had trials.

KD: Can you tell me about the first time you met Yuri, what were the circumstances of you going to the prison, talking with him and photographing him?

MF: I first heard about him from a contact who told me about Yuri and took me to this prison in Zaporizhzhia, a super dangerous place. There were shells falling very close to the prison as we were there. While we were there, we did four or five interviews. And then they showed us around the prison and stuff but we were like, “Hold on, where’s the orc?” They really didn’t want to show him to the world, but I insisted. And then eventually they agreed and they brought him out. By that time, he had already been imprisoned for about a year. In that year, he demonstrated good behavior so one of the things they let him do was wear a hat. Even indoors, they let him keep his hat on to cover the tattoo.

At that time the guards and other inmates were calling him by that name, “Orc.” So after about a year, they let him have some dignity, and wearing the hat was kind of his dignity. I told them that it was important that I got to speak to him and so under the deal that I would not even ask his name, they brought him out. He was the only person I spoke to who, other than maybe the length of his sentence, I had no other information. Then I took his photo.

KD: And that’s the photo of him covering his eyes?

MF: Correct. And covering his eyes was essentially a way of protecting his anonymity.

KD: Let’s jump forward. Talk about the second time you went to see Yuri and the impact the photograph had.

MF: So, my photo of Yuri ran in The Guardian piece in February 2024 and it created several waves. Some public, some not. There was a huge, very predictable wave of glee in Russia. Because the article was mistranslated. The messages from all of the biggest war propagandists there was, “Look, this is what happens in Ukraine to those that love Russia.” This reaction was very predictable.

What I was more worried about was how it would be perceived in Ukraine. And luckily, at least publicly, the reaction couldn’t have been better. A couple of very influential people wrote quite nice reviews of the article essentially questioning the complexity of the situation. Not just about the orc, but the stories in the piece about people being put in these difficult situations and the takeaway being that we shouldn’t judge too fast. The public reaction was never, “Let’s shoot the messenger.”

And what I loved was that privately, even with the Department of Corrections, the reaction was never, “Who let the foreigner in?” The people who gave me access were not punished. Instead, they started an internal investigation to figure out how this had happened to Yuri. The Minister of Justice told the guards to figure out a way to fix the situation due to the attention it was getting. But the guards didn’t think it was their responsibility since the situation didn’t happen on their watch. Eventually, investigators from internal affairs actually went to interview Yuri. They asked him what happened and to give them details and he, I think smartly, refused to cooperate. He’s got another ten years in prison, he doesn’t want information leaking that he’s ratting anyone out. Because it will not bring anything but trouble. He prefers to just lay low. So he instead responded by saying, “Well I probably deserved it, I don’t remember and I probably did this myself.”

KD: He said all of that?

MF: Yeah, he said he did it himself. Out of shame.

KD: He said he literally did it himself, or that he brought it upon himself?

MF: Both. He was like, “I don’t fully remember and if I did remember, it was probably me.” But nevertheless, the Minister of Justice gave the order and in about a month or month and a half, the tattoo was gone. They took him into town and had a tattoo master remove it. It took about three visits and it was gone. He was moved to a different prison around that time. Between the time I met him and the second time I saw him, they had finally created a prison for people convicted of treason and spying. They removed him from the general prison population.

KD: For their safety?

MF: I think it was a legal thing. I think Ukraine might have passed some new laws and in those legislatures, it said that these people have to remain separated from the rest of society. He thought that maybe this was done because of the kindness of the new guards or whatever. Because remember, when you’re in prison, you’re living in a weird bubble. So he had no idea about anything that was happening beyond the prison.

KD: And all this time he didn’t know that his story had been publicized or that changes to the law were being made? So he thought he got the tattoo removed just because of the kindness of the people that were there guarding him?

MF: Yeah, he thought it was because the new guards were kind or something. So when I found out that the tattoo had been removed, I felt that it was important on multiple levels for me to actually talk to him and try to find out more.

But also, I thought it was important to show the world, which is so skeptical about the need of journalism in the first place, that journalism can actually change things and influence things. That journalism has the power to change people’s lives, even the lives of those who maybe deserve it least. Also, I very much admired how Ukraine handled the whole situation.

KD: What was Yuri like?

MF: Very calm and you know, for a 40-year-old guy like that, a couple years of not drinking and not being in the coal mine did him really good, he looked decent. He looked healthy. Which was kind of unexpected and hilarious.

KD: How many times have you been to Ukraine?

MF: Before 2022, I’ve been maybe dozens of times. I lived in Ukraine for a year. And then since the full scale invasion, I’ve been three times.

KD: How do you see the meaning of this project in terms of the larger role of photography right now?

MF: I think it has to be thought of in regard to the role of AI now. We are being sold or marketed the latest AI digital tools by Adobe, by Apple, by everyone else, that questions the role of photographs as documentation. You have new generations of people growing up that are effectively told not to trust what they see. Especially stills. Where still images, as realistic as they might look, are markets of doubt. And I feel that it’s already happening. So, this has also been an opportunity to demonstrate the differences that journalism and photography can make and the power of them.

KD: It actually has real life consequences.

MF: Yeah and it can really help people and situations if enough effort is put in.

KD: The problem of course being it’s just incredibly hard for people to believe what they see without them understanding if it’s a reputable source. And how few of those trusted sources there are anymore.

MF: Just you and me.

KD: A dying breed.


Contributor

Misha Friedman

Misha Friedman is a photographer who collaborates with leading international media and nonprofit organizations. A 2021 Pulitzer Prize finalist, his widely exhibited work has received numerous industry awards, including several Pictures of the Year (POYi).

Discover the Ukraine that was—and the one that will be. Stranger’s Guide: Ukraine is among the most challenging and powerful volumes we’ve ever put out, featuring Ukrainian writers and photographers, many of whom are still in their country, others living abroad ...

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