Three shards of glass under his eye and espionage charges: how a UP employee was kept handcuffed in an Austrian hospital
On 8 October, Mykhailo Tkach, head of Ukrainska Pravda's investigative journalism department, and his colleague Yaroslav Bondarenko were detained in Vienna while on an editorial assignment to track down former fugitive Prosecutor General Ruslan Kravchenko.
Yaroslav, who was injured during the detention, recounts how the arrest unfolded.
...In broad daylight (at 15:00), while we were moving from one place to another in a rental car, we were brutally taken down by Austrian special forces at a traffic light.
They smashed both windows, and within seconds we were on the ground. Mykhailo Tkach "got lucky" – on his side, there was a verge with a flowerbed and grass, whereas I was shoved face-first into the tarmac, and they pressed down on me with their whole body weight right into the shattered glass. My left arm was in the grip of a police officer, while my right was trapped under my body... they started yanking it out. They tore it up. Cuts and lacerations on my right arm.
They twisted my left arm so hard that I cried out loud from the sudden sharp pain. It felt like they were about to break my arm.
Then they clamped the handcuffs so tight on my left wrist that only 15-20 minutes later did I manage to beg them: "Please relax this! Please! It's no good! Please relax!" I don't speak German. Pardon me :))
From the moment of that takedown, with the smashed windows, Mykhailo and I were separated with absolutely no way to communicate!
Looking to the side was FORBIDDEN – it was instantly "face the wall!"
Blood was pouring down my face, soaking my clothes, trousers, and my new trainers (I could see they were ruined). I looked at my arm – it was bleeding. A police medic came over with hydrogen peroxide to take a look at me and give first aid. That's when I noticed Mykhailo being bundled away somewhere in the distance. I heard it more than once: 'We are Ukrainian journalists!'
They confiscated all our belongings. A van showed up. They put us in and drove off in an unknown direction. It turned out later to be a detention centre.
The whole time, NO EXPLANATION whatsoever, not even a "YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO..." – absolutely nothing, just complete confusion and uncertainty about "what just happened and what comes next". And then: processing at the detention centre.
An examination by the prison medics. That's when I saw the state I was in. I had to spend some time washing the dried blood off my face with an antiseptic, and that's when I noticed a "bump" under my eye. I took a closer look. "There's glass in there," I told the medics. "I think I need medical attention," I continued.
21:30. Taken out of the temporary holding cell, handcuffed behind my back. Into the van. The journey to hospital.
It felt sickening. I was taken from the prison to the hospital to have glass removed from my face, all while handcuffed behind my back... two police officers walking me through the corridors of a civilian hospital, through crowds of people, like some kind of criminal mastermind.
Frightened children's eyes staring at you :(( and that was just awful. And that was probably the hardest part of this whole ordeal.
Because no matter how hard you try to talk to the police and explain, "I'm not a criminal! I'm not a threat! I'm an investigative journalist from Ukraine! Just look me up online! You'll find everything about me, about us and our work. It's all there – you'll see for yourself and understand." None of it makes any difference!
And even after the X-ray, when it's time to lie down on the operating table, the doctor looks flustered and says, "Handcuffs behind your back? That's not good!" So I tell the police officers again: "I'm not a threat! I'm not a criminal. I'm a photographer, a cameraman. Believe me. At least take the handcuffs off for the operation." But it's no use.
Facial surgery, right under my eye – with my hands cuffed behind my back.
They removed the glass and stitched me up. I asked to see the fragments. Three pieces of glass. My right arm, cut from the elbow upwards, was treated and bandaged with the kind of adhesive plasters used to close cuts.
And back to cell "303", handcuffed, with strange things scrawled on the walls about Jesus, Allah and "Thieves rule". But the most interesting words were right in front of me, above the cell door: "95 REGION".
Interesting. It reminds me of something.
It echoes something I've seen in Ukraine.
The criminal police questioned me at length. The accusations against me are extremely serious:
- Espionage.
- Working for a foreign intelligence service.
- Conspiring to harm the Austrian state.
I tried to explain the nature of our work and what we'd achieved (right there on the table, among the things they'd seized, was an international award for freedom of speech and for best investigative journalist, which we'd just received in Norway). And yet I still had to prove that we weren't criminals.
The Austrian lawyer and the interpreter, Maryna (sorry, I didn't ask her surname), are both true professionals.
And personal thanks to Consul Yurii for visiting me in the pre-trial detention centre and taking the time to speak with me. In conditions of "complete isolation from the outside world", when you have no explanation of "WHAT ON EARTH IS GOING ON?!", that means a great deal. Thank you.
After the interrogation, my lawyer applied for my immediate release from the cell, arguing that I posed no threat. Three police officers, including the chief, clearly understood the situation by then and, after making several calls to the prosecutor, managed to secure my release. Friday evening.
If it hadn't been for that, I'd have spent Saturday and Sunday in cell "303", staring at the door marked "95 region" and doing push-ups – just like in the films :))
Let's carry on…
Yaroslav Bondarenko
Translation: Solomiia Shvak
Editing: Artem Yakymyshyn