Nariman Dzhelial is the first deputy chairman of the Mejlis of the Crimean Tatar people, who spent almost three years in Russian detention and was released on 28 June 2024.
Dzhelial remained in Crimea even after the peninsula was occupied, publicly criticising Russian occupation authorities' actions. On September 21, 2021, he was sentenced to 17 years in prison.
Dzhelyal was accused of involvement in an alleged sabotage plot targeting a gas pipeline in Crimea. It was yet another attempt by Russia to suppress resistance in Crimea.
Shortly before his detention, Nariman Dzhelial was in Kyiv for the Crimean Platform summit. The Ukrainian authorities attribute the detention of Dzhelal and other Crimean Tatar activists on Russia's retaliation for hosting this international summit aimed at finding ways to de-occupy Crimea.
In this interview, Nariman Dzhelial discusses his imprisonment, his release, the process of liberating other political prisoners, the current functioning of the Mejlis, the ongoing resistance in Crimea, and the possibility of de-occupying the peninsula.
When you find yourself imprisoned by the occupier for your beliefs and your resistance, you realise just how unjustly you're being treated. Coping with injustice is extremely difficult for anyone in this situation. It's an emotionally and mentally heavy burden because, by human and divine laws, you've done nothing wrong. You were defending what you believe in, protecting your people and your country.
They fabricated a criminal case about an explosion, accusing me and others of the crime, and tortured the people. It's a "test" to see how strong and resilient you can be under psychological pressure.
I remember the first days in prison — I'd just lie on the bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to grasp something, anything, to keep myself rooted. You cannot allow yourself to break because they would certainly take advantage of that.
It's crucial to internalise that you've done nothing wrong. They try to convince you that you're a criminal, but it's essential for you to understand that you are not. Later, when you receive support from those outside and see how people care about you and share in your experience, it reassures you that you did the right thing and that you're simply being treated unjustly. That is the first challenge.
The second challenge is the physical environment. Prison is an unpleasant place in every sense. You feel as if you are unable to breathe, trapped, unable to plan. Everything is decided for you. You fight for any bit of freedom inside the prison. I was fortunate to have family and friends sending food and books, which helped me break up the harsh routine. This was in the pre-trial detention centre, but as I was transferred thousands of kilometres away from home, I was deprived of even these parcels.
You're confined to a cell with poor lighting, no proper toilet, and lacking basic needs. Sometimes there are rats, inadequate food, insufficient air, and often unpleasant cellmates.
The third challenge is the investigation and trial process. Once you recognise the injustice, every session and interaction with investigators or judges triggers the same emotion. You present evidence of your innocence, but they persist, following an already-planned trumped-up verdict to imprison and discredit you.
I had 42 hearings, and each one felt like a small battle, where you constantly strive to overcome this system.
Torture and beatings were things I was able to avoid. I understand how this works because I witnessed it firsthand. I had to endure psychological and physical abuse: I was forced to walk in a specific manner, say certain things, sing the Russian anthem, walk in a bent position without looking around, run, and report who was in the cell. They humiliate you by demonstrating that you are nothing more than a nameless stranger. They say to sit and be grateful that nothing worse is happening to you. They keep you in this state for months. The opportunity to shave or take a shower is presented to you as if it were some kind of blessing that is being given to you. It's not just humiliating; it's a mockery of human dignity. Their law provides for certain rights, but even these rights are presented as something you have to earn. That is why every political prisoner finds himself in such difficult circumstances. In general, this system is unfair to people, even to those who have committed a crime. Even criminals have their rights and interests under the law, and they must be fully respected.
I was able to use the experience of almost 3 years in prison to my advantage. First of all, psychologically. To strengthen myself, to test myself, to conduct a certain "emotional audit." I think I was able to make sure of some things and even take a break from the busy social activities I had been doing during all the years of occupation. So when I returned, the adaptation was simply an adjustment to free life, its pace, and to being around many people again. For me, these meetings, the events in which I am now participating, are also a kind of rehabilitation, that is, a return.
I managed to spend some time with my family. My wife and children also found themselves in an unusual situation here in Kyiv, in freer circumstances, where you can wake up in the morning without fear, not expecting someone to break into your home. The move from Crimea was challenging for them; people tend to get accustomed to their homes, surroundings, and neighbours.
We used to live in a small village, one where you know most of the people. After such a way of life, finding yourself in a big city where there's no one to meet up with for a coffee during the day is quite a change. I understand that adaptation takes time, but for now, it's quite difficult. Bit by bit, step by step, we are getting closer to a more or less normal state where we can feel more at home here.
We haven't had a real break for a long time, as we've been trying to set up our lives as quickly as possible in the space we have to live in now. My wife says she has adapted to life in Kyiv, but her heart calls her home — Crimea — every day.
It's difficult to come up with anything new here because legally, there are no mechanisms for freeing our civilian political prisoners. It all depends on the specific moment, on negotiations between the two sides. International law does not anticipate the capture of civilian hostages by occupiers, but Russia does not recognise itself as an occupier and refuses to operate within these norms. So, we're left with only the option of negotiating.
It's also important to support specific individuals who, due to various circumstances, have a better chance of being freed. Unfortunately, we cannot currently release everyone. Our human rights defenders, politicians, and public figures select people whose names can be more effectively advocated for, so that by freeing these individuals, we may work toward the release of others. This has been the way it worked well before my imprisonment, during it, and continues to be the way today. I don't know why it's like this, but for some reason, a particular story touches presidents, prime ministers, and people in positions of power to make a difference. It's a difficult choice, but it must be made.
I spoke with my colleagues, who suggested to our state bodies whom they recommend for release this time or next. I listened to them and realised that I would not want to be in their place.
Imagine having to choose 5-10 names from among hundreds to propose for the next exchange. This is the reality we have to live with.
I spoke to the families of political prisoners, each of whom rejoices at any release of the wrongly imprisoned but feels the most pain for their own loved ones. I tried to explain to them that they have the right to feel hurt and to be angry, but they should not direct blame towards the Ukrainian side. The blame lies with Russia, which committed aggression against our country, seized our lands, and took our people. That's it. All of our anger and resentment should be directed at them. We must continue rescuing our people within the constraints imposed by the enemy.
Every advocacy event, every mention of a particular name, is one more drop of 'balm' on the hearts of the relatives.
I remember how my wife felt whenever someone mentioned me. For a person who is being held behind bars, it is also incredibly important to know that someone somewhere is talking about them.
It's very important to support families. When you're in there as a husband, with the assurance that your friends or others are helping your wife and small children, it brings you some peace of mind.
The situation with the Mejlis is very complicated. It's like taking the captain's bridge, detaching it from the ship, and trying to steer when the captain is somewhere else.
Even with modern technology, it's crucial to directly communicate with the people, responding promptly to their needs. That's what I did during the occupation, while the leadership of the Mejlis was either behind bars or in exile. Unfortunately, there's currently no day-to-day communication with the residents of occupied Crimea. Due to repression and occupation, it's impossible to organise such civic political activities in Crimea at this time. However, we are making every effort to maintain regular contact with our employees and keep track of all events.
Another challenge is that the Mejlis has been divided. Most of the Mejlis are now under occupation, while the rest are in Kyiv or abroad. So, when someone tries to understand why the Mejlis of the Crimean Tatar people don't always respond quickly or as effectively as we would like, they need to understand that only six of the 33 members are in Kyiv. Three people, due to different circumstances, ended up in Turkey. One person is in the US. Some are elderly. So, completing the entire scope of work and responsibilities is extremely difficult.
Our work is supported by young people, friendly foundations, and organisations like 'Crimean Front,' 'Qırım Milliy Varlıq Fondu,' 'Qırım Evi,' and others. Despite a lack of resources, the Mejlis are trying to continue operating in order to fulfil their task of representing the Crimean Tatars.
Despite calls from the international community for Russia to reverse its absolutely illegal decision to ban the Mejlis and allow it to operate within occupied Crimea, nothing has changed. Yet even if this were to happen, it's unlikely we'd be able to work freely there. So, I don't know which option is truly better.
This situation can be compared to that of the Crimean Tatar language. Russia claims that this language can be freely learnt, but there are subtle, less visible issues, well-known to experts, that result in Crimean Tatars, or Ukrainians in Crimea, having virtually no opportunity to study their native language. Those rights, I emphasise, are hard-won for the peaceful exercise of their linguistic rights, but it's extremely difficult and not very effective. That's why our activists are working to close these gaps outside the educational system. The situation with the Mejlis is very similar. One way or another, obstacles will be placed in our path to prevent us from doing what we want.
The resistance currently present in Crimea is varied. I remember times when I would go to a building materials store. The saleswoman had several pencils on her table, some yellow and some blue. She pointed to them with her eyes and asked, 'Do you see?' 'I see,' I replied. This was her way of expressing opposition to the occupation. There is a lot of symbolic resistance.
There is a higher level of this resistance when people actively help the families of political prisoners, gather information, and pass on news.
Every week, videos emerge online from the occupiers in which they force someone to apologise for either their statements, listening to Ukrainian music, or many other similar acts of resistance. These videos are proof that people in Crimea are critical of the occupation. These people are reported, and they are punished.
Beyond this, there are certain partisan movements that represent higher-level resistance. People, either individually or in collaboration, gather information about Russian military sites and report on equipment movements. We often see reports of something being damaged, an explosion occurring, or something going out of order.
Despite the information blockade imposed by the occupation authorities, these incidents are still recorded. In Russian news, we occasionally see that the FSB has arrested yet another 'saboteur,' for example. People who engage in this type of resistance are, in a way, combatants; they are defending their country from the occupier. The injustice is that they are imprisoned not as prisoners of war but as ordinary criminals. These may not be military professionals, yet they fight the enemy in a military manner. I am proud that such people exist, doing what every Ukrainian citizen should if they are willing.
I always said, "The main thing is not to remain indifferent; do what you feel is possible for you. Whether it's a small flag, a blue and yellow item of clothing, gathering information, or sabotage against the enemy. Each person defines their own level of responsibility to the state and themselves in the fight against Russia."
Like many Ukrainians, I long hope for the de-occupation to be peaceful or, at least, not as bloody. Unfortunately, this is impossible, as in 2022, Russia launched outright military aggression, leaving us with no choice but to use military force to drive the enemy out of our occupied territories. The operations to liberate Crimea continue, but they are challenging; soldiers have told me so. My only ask is to minimise harm to the peaceful civilian population, even to civilian collaborators. They must be held accountable according to our laws.
It's deeply saddening that we are losing people in this war, but we must recognise that, for now, there is no other way to free our land other than through military means. We cannot wait or abandon our citizens under occupation while Russians distort their lives, especially young children. They are taught terrible things and it may take us several decades to heal these people mentally and to bring them back to normal life. We need not only to liberate them but also reintegrate them into our society, bridging the divides caused by occupation. Each month, each year, our people remain under occupation, and the situation worsens as new generations are born without any knowledge of a better life or what Ukraine is.
The sooner we liberate our people, the better so that the generation that remains loyal to our country can survive, passing down their experiences and memories to the younger generation. Unfortunately, this is impossible without the support of the international community. The world must understand that this struggle is not just against Ukraine; it is against the West. Russian leaders openly declare this. Therefore, Western support should reflect an understanding that this struggle is theirs as well.
