According to investigators, the scheme operated systematically. Owners of so-called “porn offices” – premises used for the illegal production and distribution of erotic and pornographic content through internet platforms – paid police commanders 20,000 US dollars per month. The intermediary retained an additional 5,000 dollars. In exchange, the officials undertook not to take any enforcement action, not to document violations, and to provide advance warning of inspections.

At least several documented episodes of money transfers were established: 45,000 dollars in February 2026, 25,000 dollars in April, and a further 25,000 dollars in May – at the moment of detention. Searches yielded a fleet of luxury vehicles, five Swiss watches, weapons, and cash in various currencies totalling over UAH 22.6 million. This is not a personal success story of the suspects. It is materialised impunity.

LEGAL QUALIFICATION

The actions of the police commanders were charged under Part 4 of Article 368 of the Criminal Code of Ukraine — receipt of unlawful benefit in an especially large amount by an official holding a responsible position, committed by a group of persons pursuant to a prior conspiracy. The sanction provides for imprisonment from eight to twelve years with confiscation of property.

The qualifying element of “prior conspiracy by a group of persons” is of fundamental importance. This is not a technical detail – it is evidence of the organised, rather than spontaneous, character of the corruption. The multiple documented episodes of money transfers point to an established criminal practice, not a one-off incident.

Separate attention should be paid to the atypical architecture of the criminal group: only commanders and a driver – i.e. the highest and lowest tiers – without an intermediate level. This either reflects a carefully constructed scheme of insulation, or signals that the middle tier has not yet been identified. This structural dissonance merits separate investigative attention.

OFFICIAL STATISTICS AS A MIRROR OF LATENCY: THE CRIME IT IS PROFITABLE NOT TO RECORD

An analysis of official police statistics concerning two core articles – keeping brothels and procuring (Article 302 of the Criminal Code) and pimping or inducing a person into prostitution (Article 303 of the Criminal Code) – reveals a stark paradox. Official data shows a steady decline in registered crimes against the backdrop of widely documented growth in the underlying practices. This is not evidence of a successful law enforcement system – it is an indicator of the system’s institutional interest in keeping this market segment invisible.

This is precisely why these categories of crime are traditionally classified as “ancillary” offences relative to human trafficking: their true scale is structurally absent from official statistics, because registration runs contrary to the interests of those tasked with registering.

The peak figures were recorded in 2014 – 509 registered crimes and 379 notices of suspicion. A sustained downward trend followed, with several characteristic deviations. In 2022, following the start of the full-scale invasion, only 61 crimes of this category were recorded – a reduction of 88% compared to the peak. In 2025 the figure stood at 54.

If interpreted literally, these data would suggest that the sexual services industry in Ukraine has virtually disappeared. Reality, as documented by investigative journalism, tells the opposite story: frontline cities have become regional hubs for sexual services, with clearly structured pricing – from 30–40 euros for a “massage” to 200 euros for trips to the combat zone. Demand has grown, the market has transformed, yet none of this appears in official statistics. Because it is profitable for other people in uniform.

The dynamics under Article 303 differ somewhat but follow the same logic. After notable growth in 2017–2018 (412 crimes — the maximum for the entire period studied), figures fall again: 195 crimes in 2022, 244 in 2024, 171 in 2025. The temporary increase in 2023 (348 crimes) can be explained by a partial restoration of law enforcement functions and the dislocation of criminal networks to safer territories, but by no means by any genuine increase in this type of crime.

LATENCY AS A STRUCTURAL PHENOMENON: CRIMES TURNED INTO BUSINESS

Crimes in the sphere of sexual services are classic examples of structural latency – a condition in which crime is systematically not recorded not because it is absent, but because its registration is contrary to the interests of law enforcement. Classical criminology distinguishes natural latency (the victim does not report) from artificial latency (law enforcement conceals the crime). In the case of the “porn-rent” corruption exposed on 20 May 2026, we are dealing with the second type – institutionalised and monetised.

The mechanism is simple and robust.

First, the victims and participants in such crimes have their own interest in avoiding police attention – they are either themselves administrative offenders, or they depend on “protection”.

Second, police commanders, receiving regular payments for “non-interference”, do not merely look the other way passively – they actively suppress any attempts by subordinates to document these violations. Official statistics reflect not the actual state of crime, but the result of this active filtering.

Consider the “suspicion rate” indicator – the share of registered crimes for which a notice of suspicion has been issued. Under Article 302, it fluctuates between 64.3% (2016) and 94.4% (2025). This means that those cases which do make it into the statistics are investigated with reasonable effectiveness. The paradox lies elsewhere: only a small fraction of actual crimes are registered – predominantly those arising from competitive conflicts between market actors.

The statistical collapse of 2022 – a drop to 61 registered crimes under Article 302 – is telling. It coincided not with the disappearance of the market, but with Russia’s full-scale invasion. Law enforcement resources were redirected, traditional “protection rackets” were partially disrupted. But the market was not. The Kramatorsk hub, described in detail by investigative journalists, emerged precisely as an adaptation to new geographical and social conditions.

QUANTITATIVE DIMENSION OF THE HIDDEN SCALE

The true extent of latency can be estimated by cross-referencing several indicators. According to research estimates, the latency coefficient for prostitution-related crimes ranges from 1:10 to 1:50 in various countries – meaning that for every registered crime, between 10 and 50 go unregistered. Even applying the conservative multiplier of 1:10 yields a picture sharply at odds with official data: if 54 crimes under Article 302 were registered in 2025, the actual number of such instances may have reached 540 to 2,700 per year.

These estimates are consistent with the demographic logic: Ukraine in 2025 has over 25 million residents in government-controlled territories, a significant proportion of whom are internally displaced persons – predominantly women in extremely precarious economic circumstances. The combination of large-scale demographic vulnerability and weakened institutional control is a classic environment for the expansion of an unregulated sexual services market. Official statistics do not capture this process – they capture the size of the corruption shield that conceals it.

A further indicator is the structure of the online market. According to market participants’ estimates, approximately 90% of online sexual services advertisements are fraudulent (scams), which itself evidences the broad presence of organised criminal groups in the online segment. Organised crime, oriented towards large-scale and systematic profit, requires systematic “cover”. This is precisely the corruption rent we observe in the case of 20 May 2026.

THE CORE THESIS: PROHIBITION AS A GENERATOR OF CORRUPTION RENT

The systemic bribery exposed on 20 May 2026 is not a consequence of the personal immorality of particular police officers. It is a direct and foreseeable consequence of the state’s prohibition on the legitimate operation of adult content online platforms.

Any prohibition of profitable but technically feasible activity in conditions of mass demand creates a rent space: the market moves underground but does not disappear. Platforms such as OnlyFans are publicly accessible without registration, operate around the clock, and any person can use them without any real restrictions from the state. The prohibition, in other words, is de facto non-operational and incapable of operation.

Instead, it creates a legal lever for coercion: since the activity is “illegal”, law enforcement officials acquire the monopoly power to decide – to prosecute or to “overlook”. This discretion converts into money. This is precisely how corruption rent arises – a regular payment for non-prosecution of that which the state formally prohibits but is factually incapable of blocking.

Here an entirely absurd paradox of public administration emerges. On the one hand, the state attempts to tax women engaged in such activity. On the other hand, it classifies this very same activity as a crime and prosecutes the same women criminally. The result is the creation of ideal conditions for unlimited police racketeering. Would such systemic bribery have occurred if the operation of such platforms had been legalised? Obviously not. The state itself created the conditions for the commission of these crimes.

The criminalisation of online erotic platforms, contrary to its declared objective of eradicating them, effectively pushes them deeper into the shadows – to a place where there is no legal oversight whatsoever, where women are left entirely unprotected, and where the preconditions for direct sexual exploitation arise. Law enforcement officials occupied with collecting corruption rent objectively have neither the time nor the motivation to combat genuinely dangerous forms of crime — trafficking, forced prostitution, child pornography.

THE SYSTEMIC DIMENSION

The intermediary in the scheme was the personal driver of the Deputy Minister of Internal Affairs. This is not a peripheral detail – it is a structural node of the entire construction. A driver is a person with constant physical access to a senior official, with unrecorded informal contacts, and with the capacity to conduct a parallel business life in the shadow of an official status. The question that inevitably arises: how far does the chain extend? No public suspicion has been directed at the Deputy Minister himself, but the mere fact that his immediate entourage proved to be the hub of a multi-oblast corruption network raises obvious institutional questions that cannot be ignored.

The scheme covered three regions simultaneously. This is not a local phenomenon and not a coincidence. It is either evidence of centralised coordination through a single intermediary, or – even more worrying – a sign of a widespread market practice in which regional police commanders independently and separately enter the market for protecting illegal businesses.

The case unfolds in the context of a full-scale war, and this gives it a qualitatively different dimension. Regional police department heads are not merely administrators. They are officials with access to operational information, accounting systems, security chains, and contacts with the SBU and military administration. A person who takes bribes and is dependent on a criminal business is a vulnerability in the country’s security system. In wartime, this is not merely corruption – it is a threat to national security.

The statistical data presented above confirm the systemic, rather than episodic, character of this phenomenon. If “protection rackets” were an isolated deviation, we would observe chaotic fluctuations in the statistics. Instead, we see a smooth downward registration trajectory with a clear correlation to general system stresses (the 2020 pandemic, the full-scale invasion of 2022) — and rapid recovery thereafter. This is structure, not accident.

A REGULATORY ALTERNATIVE

It is necessary to move away from artificial moralising and to frame the question in its real dimension: what specific moral harm has the existence of the relevant web platforms inflicted on Ukrainian society – and what moral harm has their protection by police inflicted? The answer is obvious.

The legalisation and regulation of online sex platforms is not a moral choice. It is an anti-corruption strategy. Its logic is simple: lawful activity does not require protection from the police — it is protected by law. The rent space disappears, and with it the corruption incentive.

Regulation, rather than prohibition, makes it possible to protect the rights of industry participants, introduce age and consent verification, tax revenues, and refocus law enforcement resources on real crimes — trafficking, coercion, child pornography. To speak of prohibition and criminal prosecution of something that exists completely openly, that requires no registration and operates 24/7, is entirely absurd. The state has discredited itself through the exposure of this scheme.

Statistical analysis confirms this conclusion methodologically. If over 13 years official statistics show an unvarying decline in crimes in a sphere that is clearly not declining in reality – this is not a problem with the offenders. It is a problem with the legal model, which generates structural latency and corruption rent instead of genuine protection.

One can predictably expect that, once the initial resonance fades, yesterday’s moralists in uniform will begin to speak of the need for legalisation – precisely because their own system for protecting illegal businesses has proven vulnerable. Society should take note of those voices and verify whether real reformist will stands behind them.

CONCLUSIONS

This case is more than a criminal scandal. It is a mirror of a systemic crisis generated by the convergence of three factors: an artificial prohibition that creates a corruption market; the structural latency of crimes that serves this prohibition; and the absence of real internal oversight within the law enforcement system.

Statistical data for 2013–2025 testify not to the success of efforts to combat crime in the sphere of sexual services, but to a persistent and systemic practice of concealing it from registration. The 88% decline in registered crimes under Article 302 of the Criminal Code and the 58% decline under Article 303 occurred in conditions where actual market volumes, by all independent estimates, were not shrinking — and in certain sub-periods were growing. This is materialised latency.

The true test of intentions will not be the arrests, but the verdicts. Even more telling will be whether this case prompts a systemic review of oversight mechanisms for regional police commanders, or whether it remains another signal after which the system reverts to its customary state.

Without structural changes — decriminalisation of online platforms, audit of the internal oversight system, refocusing of law enforcement resources on serious crimes, and a methodological revision of approaches to measuring latent crime — the next such scheme will be only a matter of time. And society will again pay for it — in money, security, and trust in the state at its most critical hour.

The weapon used by the gunman was officially registered, and he himself held the relevant permits. According to journalists’ reports, the man turned out to be a lieutenant-colonel in the Russian Armed Forces – a native of Moscow with Ukrainian citizenship – who, according to some sources, had made donations in support of the so-called ‘special military operation’. According to preliminary information, he had already attacked people in the same shop three years earlier. Neighbours say he moved into the building at the start of the full-scale invasion.

These facts form a chilling picture, but our task is not to inflame emotions – it is to try to answer, calmly and honestly, the questions that this tragedy inevitably poses to society, the law enforcement system and the rule of law.

WEAPONS, LICENCES AND THE ILLUSION OF SAFETY

The first and most obvious conclusion that springs to mind is that this crime was committed using a legally registered weapon. This is not a mere detail but a fundamentally important circumstance that undermines one of the central arguments of those lobbying for the free circulation of firearms: ‘Legal Weapons = Safety’.

The debate over the liberalisation of the firearms market in Ukraine has raged for years, but it intensified particularly in the context of the full-scale war, when a section of society and a number of lawmakers began insisting on enshrining the right to bear arms in the constitution, citing the need for self-defence and patriotic duty. The tragedy in Korsun polarised society at the time: many people sympathised with the man who had used a weapon against law enforcement officers – which in itself is symptomatic and alarming.

The current case is fundamentally different. Here there is no ‘people’s avenger’ or ‘Korsun Robin Hood’, nor is there any hint of social conflict with the system. There is a retired lieutenant-colonel who shoots peaceful supermarket shoppers with a legally registered pistol. It is precisely this circumstance that should settle the debate: not ‘who’ commits the crime or what their ideology is, but the fact that Ukraine’s system for issuing firearms licences is structurally incapable of filtering out those who harbour hidden destructive intentions. Screening during the registration of firearms has proved futile. Previous attacks on people in the same shop did not lead to the licence being revoked. The system failed.

Here, however, we must refrain from oversimplification. The people’s right to resist tyranny remains a fundamental principle of constitutional theory and international legal tradition. The question is not whether a citizen has the right to defend themselves, but whether the state is capable of responsibly managing the circulation of weapons in conditions of hybrid warfare, social trauma and the psychological instability of the population. The answer provided by this tragedy is – not yet.

NEGOTIATIONS, DE-ESCALATION AND COMMUNICATION FAILURE

For around 40 minutes, negotiators attempted to establish contact with the attacker, but he did not respond. “He did not make contact. I did not hear him,” noted the head of the negotiation unit at the Kyiv National Police.

This is a key detail that requires separate analysis. Forty minutes is both a long time and a short time. For negotiators, this is a relatively brief period in tactical terms. But the very fact of a complete lack of any response from the attacker indicates not only his pathological determination, but also a fundamental problem: were these forty minutes used with genuinely professional techniques for engaging a person in crisis? Does our police force even have the necessary level of training for negotiators capable of working with people who have crossed a psychological threshold?

Today, a dangerous mindset prevails among some Ukrainian police officers: ‘Shoot First – Sort It Out Later’. This mindset has gained further momentum in a wartime environment, where violence is normalised and the right to use force is interpreted far more broadly than provided for by law and human rights standards. The Kyiv tragedy, like many before it, risks becoming not a catalyst for reform but a confirmation of this flawed logic. Meanwhile, the ECtHR consistently emphasises that when assessing the lawfulness of the use of lethal force, account must be taken not only of the actions of the perpetrators but also of all the surrounding circumstances – in particular, planning and control (Mikhalkova and Others v. Ukraine, para. 36; McCann and Others v. the UK [GC], para. 150). The legislative and administrative framework must clearly define the limited circumstances in which law enforcement officers may use firearms, and police officers must not be left in a state of uncertainty regarding these limits (Soare and Others v. Romania, para. 129).

The true measure of police effectiveness is the ability to resolve critical situations without resorting to lethal force. It is in this direction that modern policing is developing in democratic countries, where officers acquire skills honed over years in de-escalation, psychological influence and – only in extreme cases – the use of weapons. The ECtHR in Soare and Others v. Romania explicitly stated that the absence of clear rules and proper training explains the inadequate and autonomous actions of police officers in critical situations (para. 135). And in Celniku v. Greece, the Court held that Article 2 of the ECHR covers not only the direct actions of police officers but also staff training: if the level of training does not correspond to the complexity of the tasks at hand, the state bears responsibility.

NEUTRALISATION OF THE ATTACKER: ARTICLE 2 OF THE ECHR AND THE RIGHT TO LIFE

Minister of Internal Affairs Ihor Klymenko stated that KORD special forces carried out a raid and neutralised the attacker. During the assault, the perpetrator resisted law enforcement officers and opened fire on them.

In the acute phase of a crisis, when a person is actively shooting at police officers, the use of lethal force is formally justified even under the strict standards of Article 2 of the Convention.

The ECtHR, in cases such as McCann and Others v. United Kingdom, Nachova v. Bulgaria and Finogenov v. Russia, has consistently developed the criterion of ‘absolute necessity’: the state is obliged to prove that the person’s death was the result of force that did not exceed what was absolutely necessary in the specific circumstances. At the same time, as explained in McCann and Others v. the UK [GC] (para. 200), the use of force is justified only where the agents genuinely believed that opening fire was necessary and had subjectively sufficient grounds for doing so — rather than merely following orders.

The standard of ‘absolute necessity’ is stricter than the criterion of ‘necessary in a democratic society’ under Articles 8 and 11 of the ECHR: force must be strictly proportionate (Jaloud v. the Netherlands [GC], para. 199; Kelly and Others v. the UK, para. 93). In a situation involving the rescue of a hostage from an armed criminal offering active resistance, these conditions may be met — but this still requires verification.

But this is precisely where the issue begins that most commentators prefer to sidestep. The state is obliged to conduct an effective independent investigation into whether there really was no other tactical option. Were all possibilities for a non-violent resolution of the situation exhausted? Was the timing of the assault correctly chosen? Is every shot fired by KORD officers documented and justified? The ECtHR in Al-Skeini and Others v. the UK [GC] (para. 163) and Armani Da Silva v. the UK [GC] (para. 233) clearly stated: the investigation must cover not only the immediate actions of those carrying out the operation but also the planning and control of the operation as a whole; it must be capable of establishing whether the use of force was justified. Any shortcoming that undermines this capability constitutes a violation of the procedural aspect of Article 2 of the ECHR. A telling example is the case of Finogenov and Others v. Russia (Operation ‘Nord-Ost’), where the Court found a violation precisely because of the incompleteness and bias of the investigation.

In the context of Ukraine during a full-scale invasion, a public demand for an investigation into the circumstances of the death of a man who had just killed six civilians sounds critically unpopular. But this is precisely the essence of the rule of law: Article 2 of the ECHR protects the right to life not only of the criminal’s victims, but also of the criminal himself. Without this principle, the entire human rights framework becomes a situational compromise of the majority, rather than a system of universal guarantees. Article 2 of the ECHR imposes a positive obligation on the state not only to refrain from the intentional deprivation of life, but also to take preventive measures to protect persons within its jurisdiction (Yuriy Illarionovich Shchokin v. Ukraine, para. 35). A general legal prohibition on arbitrary deprivation of life becomes ineffective without an effective review procedure: this is precisely how the Court formulated it in Giuliani and Gaggio v. Italy [GC] (para. 249) and Al-Skeini and Others v. the UK [GC] (para. 163). Andronicou and Constantinou v. Cyprus demonstrates that even a hostage rescue operation resulting in the death of a perpetrator may be deemed lawful – but only provided that planning was carried out with a view to minimising risk, negotiations were conducted rationally, and the operatives had clear instructions to use only proportionate force (para. 194).

Furthermore, there is a purely practical argument: a lieutenant-colonel in the Russian Armed Forces who had lived in Ukraine, made donations to the ‘SVO’ and ultimately carried out a mass shooting – this was a source of information of exceptional value to counter-intelligence. His motives, connections, possible handlers and funding channels could all have been established during interrogations. His elimination has permanently shut down that channel.

THE DANGER OF ‘SECURITY’ DISCOURSE AND HUMAN RIGHTS

This tragedy will inevitably give rise to legislative initiatives. Some will be aimed at tightening controls on the circulation of weapons — and this is justified and necessary. But others — and this is where alarm bells should ring — will use this incident to justify expanding the police apparatus, intensifying preventive surveillance and legalising ‘proactive’ operational measures.

This mechanism is well known in human rights practice: a terrorist attack or large-scale crime becomes a ‘window of opportunity’ for the state to expand its powers in areas where citizens would not normally permit such intrusion. Laws passed ‘in the heat of the moment’ are, as a rule, not repealed even after the shock has passed.

The right to private and family life, guaranteed by Article 8 of the ECHR, the right to the protection of personal data, the right not to be subject to preventive police surveillance without sufficient grounds – all these guarantees are under threat whenever society experiences a sudden surge of fear. The standard of ‘necessary in a democratic society’ under Article 8 of the ECHR is less stringent than the criterion of ‘absolutely necessary’ under Article 2, but even this does not permit the state to introduce widespread preventive surveillance without individual grounds and judicial oversight. The task of the human rights community, the legal profession and the academic community is to ensure that a single tragedy does not become a justification for systemic restrictions on rights that will affect millions of people who have no connection whatsoever to the crime.

POLICE TRAINING

A dangerous trend that has long been brewing within the Ukrainian police has now gained new momentum: a readiness to use weapons before establishing the facts. The tragedy of 18 April risks becoming not a warning but a justification for this logic – and it is currently extremely difficult to assess the true scale of such a shift.

That is precisely why this case must serve as a compelling argument in favour of a systematic review of police training – but not in the direction of improving marksmanship or physical skills. We are talking about something fundamentally different: training officers in the art of communication, the ability to defuse tension in real time and the professional application of de-escalation techniques.

The true measure of the effectiveness of a modern police force is the ability to resolve critical situations without violence. The shift from a punitive model to one of dialogue and professional restraint is not romanticism but a practical necessity. This is where the future of Ukraine’s law enforcement system lies.

CONCLUSIONS

This tragedy presents a multi-layered challenge. For society, it is a call for restraint amidst emotional pressure and the temptation of simplistic answers. For legislators, it is a challenge to draft regulations that genuinely enhance safety without becoming instruments of punitive bureaucracy. For the police, it is a mirror in which they must see not their own heroism but their systemic shortcomings in training, de-escalation and tactical flexibility. For human rights defenders, it is a reminder that the protection of human rights cannot be conditional: either it applies to everyone, or it does not exist as a principle.

Six families are mourning their loved ones. This is an undeniable reality, and it takes precedence. But the appropriate response to these deaths is not a new wave of police aggression or a flurry of emotional legislation – it is a systematic, dispassionate and honest analysis of where the system failed, and how to fix it without losing our humanity.

In stable political environments, closed-circuit television (CCTV) networks, digital monitoring systems, and biometric databases serve as constitutive elements of what sociologists term “formal social control.” They operate not merely through the detection of deviance but through the presumption of permanent visibility: the surveilled subject modifies behaviour in anticipation of observation. Modern states extend this gaze into previously private domains. Under peacetime conditions, total surveillance ostensibly underwrites public order by deterring crime, legitimising state authority, and providing evidentiary accountability.

The wartime context fundamentally reverses this relationship. A striking empirical illustration emerged in March 2026, when Israeli authorities were reported to have physically removed CCTV cameras across different territories, not to protect citizens from surveillance, but to conceal the extent of damage sustained from Iranian missile strikes. The apparatus of total surveillance — designed to observe and discipline the population — was dismantled by the very state that constructed it, in order to manage the state’s own information environment. This episode crystallises what may be termed the sovereign surveillance paradox: in conditions of existential threat, the state suppresses its own panoptic infrastructure to preserve the appearance of security — and, by extension, the legitimacy of its social control project.

From a criminological standpoint, this dynamic raises profound questions. First, it exposes the ideological dimension of surveillance: CCTV systems are not neutral instruments of order but political technologies whose deployment and removal are subject to calculations of power. Second, it illustrates how war produces a condition of norm suspension in which the legal and institutional frameworks governing social control are subordinated to military imperatives. Criminality and deviance do not disappear in wartime; rather, their definition, measurement, and governance are radically transformed. Ordinary crime statistics become unreliable, prosecutorial capacity collapses, and informal social control mechanisms (community solidarity, collective punishment, vigilante justice) rush in to fill the institutional vacuum.

The deliberate dismantling of surveillance infrastructure under conditions of armed conflict compels criminologists to reconsider the relationship between visibility, power, and order. Total surveillance, far from being the apotheosis of social control, is revealed as a contingent and reversible technology — one that states deploy in peacetime to govern populations and abandon, selectively, when its panoptic logic threatens to expose the state’s own vulnerabilities. War, in this sense, does not merely destroy institutions of social control: it strips them of their pretence.

The system created is a multi-level mechanism of total monitoring that combines various control technologies:

At the border, in cooperation with the FSB, initial collection of biometric data is carried out – fingerprints, photographs, a complete biometric profile of the person. At the migration centre, the migrant’s samples are taken – a procedure that goes far beyond administrative necessity and turns a person into an object of biological cataloguing.

A special spy programme is installed’ into the migrant’s phone, which continuously tracks their movements – night and day, recording their every step and every location. This programme creates a complete digital shadow of the person, where their physical presence in the real world is instantly duplicated in the digital space of control.

Electronic cards are issued, which integrate all the collected information and are automatically verified against data from the Federal Tax Service, law enforcement agencies and other government agencies. A single digital profile is created, combining all aspects of a person’s life in a single database.

French philosopher Michel Foucault, developing Jeremy Bentham’s idea of the Panopticon – an ideal prison where a single guard can observe all prisoners without being seen himself – showed how the architecture of surveillance shapes a society of discipline. The Moscow system goes further: it creates a Panopticon without walls, where surveillance becomes continuous and comprehensive. While in Bentham’s concept, prisoners could be under surveillance, which in itself forced them to behave as if they were being watched all the time, modern technologies make surveillance absolute and continuous.

The key difference: in the classic Panopticon, there was at least a theoretical possibility of avoiding the gaze of the overseer, of finding ‘grey areas’. In the digital Panopticon, such areas do not exist – GPS tracking, biometric identification and genomic databases create a system where every person becomes completely transparent to the state.

When George Orwell wrote his novel in 1948, he created a warning about a future where a totalitarian state controls every aspect of citizens’ lives through television screens, the Thought Police, and a system of continuous surveillance. The slogan ‘Big Brother is watching you’ symbolised a society where privacy is destroyed and individuality is suppressed.

The Moscow experiment demonstrates that reality can surpass even the boldest artistic imagination. Orwellian television screens seem primitive compared to smartphones with built-in spyware. The Thought Police are giving way to artificial intelligence algorithms that analyse behavioural patterns in real time. The system is not just becoming all-seeing – it is becoming predictive, capable of modelling future behaviour based on collected data.

It is particularly telling how Sobyanin presents this system – not as a necessary measure or a temporary experiment, but as an innovative achievement, a source of pride. He emphasises that ‘such an innovative and powerful system of control over migrants, which Moscow is creating, is almost unheard of in other countries’ – as if the absence of such systems in democratic countries is their shortcoming, rather than a conscious ethical choice.

This rhetoric normalises total surveillance, presenting it as technological progress rather than a threat to fundamental human rights. When the mayor of the capital openly praises a system that tracks every move a person makes day and night, we are not just witnessing a violation of rights – we are seeing a society that has lost the very concept of privacy as a value.

The history of totalitarian regimes demonstrates a universal pattern: control systems that are initially introduced for ‘special categories’ of the population — foreigners, suspects, marginalised groups — inevitably expand to all citizens. Migration control becomes a testing ground for technologies that are later applied to the population itself.

When the state creates an infrastructure of total surveillance, it does not limit itself to its initial goals. A system capable of tracking every step of a migrant can just as easily track every step of any citizen. Technology has no internal limitations – only political will determines the scope of its application.

For Ukraine, which is engaged in an existential struggle against Russian imperialism, the Moscow experiment has a double meaning. First, it demonstrates the nature of the regime we are fighting against – a system where people are turned into objects of total control, deprived of their basic rights and dignity. Second, it serves as a warning: in the process of military mobilisation and strengthening security, we must remain vigilant so as not to borrow the enemy’s methods under the pretext of necessity.

Orwell’s warning remains relevant: the price of freedom is eternal vigilance. And when ‘Big Brother’ moves from literary metaphor to technological reality, this vigilance becomes not just desirable – it becomes a condition for preserving human dignity in the digital age.

The two-day intensive programme formed part of the DIGNITY project, an initiative co-funded by the European Union and dedicated to bridging perspectives for a rights-based approach to pre-trial detention across member states.

Under the expert guidance of Ms. Marina Daliani, distinguished criminal and human rights lawyer and Vice President of the Hellenic League of Human Rights, the training brought together legal practitioners, human rights defenders, and detention monitoring experts from Greece, Portugal, and Ukraine.

The programme addressed critical contemporary challenges in pre-trial detention practices, including vulnerabilities of detained persons, barriers to effective legal representation, and the application of international human rights standards. Participants engaged in practical exercises encompassing UN complaint mechanisms, European Arrest Warrant simulations, and strategic litigation before the European Court of Human Rights.

This is the first comprehensive study analysing the impact of Russian aggression on criminal justice, crime, and trust in law enforcement agencies in Ukraine. A team of domestic and foreign experts examines critical issues of the functioning of the state and society in a state of martial law.

The publication will make an important contribution to understanding the transformations of the social control system during full-scale war and will help form the basis for post-conflict reforms.

Download the Monograph

The Spark: Mayor’s Assassination

The protests were catalyzed by the November 1st assassination of Uruapan Mayor Carlos Manzo, who was shot while attending a Day of the Dead festival. Manzo had been vocal about demanding tough action against drug cartels terrorizing Mexican communities. Demonstrators honored his memory by carrying banners reading “We are all Carlos Manzo” and wearing cowboy hats in tribute.

Escalating Violence

The situation deteriorated when protesters dismantled barriers protecting the National Palace, where Sheinbaum resides. Police responded with tear gas, and authorities arrested 20 people on charges including robbery and assault, according to Mexico City security chief Pablo Vazquez.

Political Tensions

President Sheinbaum has attributed the protests to right-wing political opposition, claiming they were funded by her critics. Days before the march, she suggested the demonstration was being promoted by bots online, questioning the authenticity of the grassroots movement while affirming support for freedom of expression.

Sheinbaum’s Balancing Act

Despite maintaining approval ratings above 70% in her first year, Sheinbaum faces mounting pressure. She has made progress on fentanyl-trafficking enforcement—a priority for U.S. President Donald Trump—but resists calls for an all-out drug war, citing the bloody failures of previous administrations’ approaches.

The protests highlight growing frustration with Mexico’s ongoing security crisis, even as the president attempts to chart a different course than her predecessors in addressing cartel violence.

Election and Unrest

On October 29, President Samia Suluhu Hassan secured a second term with an overwhelming 97–98% of the vote, in an election widely criticized as undemocratic. Key opposition leaders, including Tundu Lissu, were barred from running and later detained on treason charges. Protests erupted across major cities such as Dar es Salaam, Arusha, and Mbeya, fueled by anger over the exclusion of opposition candidates and allegations of ballot stuffing.

Authorities responded with curfews, an internet blackout, and a heavy security presence. Witnesses and rights groups report that security forces used live ammunition and tear gas against demonstrators, resulting in widespread casualties.

Allegations of Secret Disposal

Chadema says it has documented 2,000 deaths, including more than 100 party members, and accuses police of dumping hundreds of bodies at undisclosed locations. “Most bodies are still at hospitals, and the police are stopping people from taking them away,” said Brenda Rupia, Chadema’s communications director. “The police have thrown away over 400 bodies. We don’t even know where they’ve taken them.”
Independent verification remains difficult due to the six-day internet shutdown and restrictions on media coverage. However, reports from local lawyers and human rights defenders suggest targeted killings in politically active regions, with some victims allegedly taken from their homes and executed.

International Reaction

The African Union (AU) condemned the election as failing to meet democratic standards, citing ballot stuffing, politically motivated abductions, and the internet blackout. Its observation mission concluded that the environment was “not conducive to peaceful conduct and acceptance of electoral outcomes.”
Human Rights Watch described the government’s response as “violent and repressive,” urging authorities to end the use of lethal force and ensure accountability. The organization documented reports of point-blank shootings and arbitrary killings in multiple regions.

Foreign governments, including Canada, Norway, and the UK, issued a joint statement expressing concern over “credible reports of a large number of fatalities and significant injuries.”

Government’s Position

President Hassan acknowledged “loss of life” during her inauguration but provided no figures. Officials have warned citizens against sharing images that “cause panic,” threatening treason charges for those circulating photos of bodies online.

Overall, the results of the action include:

• 22 296 officers from law enforcement and labour and tax authorities participating in the action;
• 194 995 entities checked (including 73 218 persons, 11 815 locations, 26 412 vehicles and 83 958 documents)
• 93 persons suspected of trafficking human beings identified (of which 92 for labour exploitation)
• 54 persons arrested for various crimes (of which 44 for labour exploitation)
• 404 potential victims of human trafficking identified (of which 393 potential victims of labour exploitation)
• 341 new investigations in various crimes launched (of which 43 in labour exploitation)

The objective of this recurrent action is for authorities to focus on the forms of labour exploitation most pertinent or widespread in their respective countries. Inspections were conducted across a wide array of sectors, including catering, gastronomy, food delivery, food and meat processing, beauty services, domestic healthcare, logistics and distribution, agriculture, construction, and mining.

Several countries have confirmed various modus operandi in trafficking in human beings for agricultural and labour exploitation. These include discrepancies between payments and employees’ working hours, violations of minimum wage laws, undeclared work, illegal schemes operated by temporary work agencies, breaches of maximum working hours, poor housing conditions provided by employers, the employment of minors, debt bondage, working without permits, and the retention of ID and travel documents. Additionally, non-EU nationals may use look-alike documents, falsified passports, and forged residence permits. In general, cases of labour exploitation and forced labour are significantly underreported and do not reflect the true extent of the issue.

Standout cases from across Europe

Spain

During a joint action on an agricultural property in Seville, a Nepalese victim of trafficking in human beings for labour exploitation was identified following an inspection at a kebab restaurant. The victim was found living in inhumane, unsanitary, and overcrowded conditions. An investigation has been launched, and the victim has been transferred to a police station for assistance and placed in a shelter. Additionally, labour authorities initiated three investigations involving five workers found working without labour contracts, two of whom were illegal immigrants in Spain.

Hungary

Following a notification from the victim assistance network, an investigation into suspected forced labour led to the discovery of seven Hungarian citizens, including a 15-year-old, working in inhumane conditions on local pig farms. The victims were forced to perform physically demanding tasks without contracts, pay, or proper accommodation. The farm owner was arrested and detained, and the victims were rescued. The investigation was conducted jointly by law enforcement and labour authorities.

In another ongoing investigation into a human trafficking ring recruiting vulnerable individuals from Romania to work in a paper/waste selection factory in Hungary, two additional suspects were arrested in Budapest. They are accused of accommodating victims and forcing them to work in poor conditions. A victim was found and interviewed during a search of the suspects’ residences, which revealed isolated sheds with poor living conditions. This case involves a joint investigation team between Hungary and Romania, with a total of 13 suspects arrested to date. Victims were promised better working conditions but were instead subjected to poor conditions, document confiscation, constant surveillance, and withheld salaries.

Ukraine

Ukrainian authorities have halted the illegal labour exploitation of 13 Uzbek citizens at an agricultural enterprise in the Kyiv Oblast. Four members of a criminal group (two Chinese citizens, one Ukrainian, and one Uzbek citizen) have been arrested and charged with trafficking in human beings.

Multidisciplinary approach and Europol’s support

In line with previous editions, the operation emphasised a multidisciplinary approach. The efforts of national and regional police forces, border guards, tax authorities, labour authorities, and labour inspectorates were coordinated and supported by Europol and the European Labour Authority. Several joint inspections involving enforcement authorities from different countries were facilitated. Consequently, the operation benefited from improved information flow and enhanced awareness of human trafficking indicators. This close collaboration among various authorities and law enforcement agencies significantly contributed to the success of the action week in combating labour exploitation.

Trafficking in human beings (THB) involves forcing or duping vulnerable individuals into another country, for the sole purpose of criminal profit. It can happen anywhere, in many different forms, and affects people of all ages, backgrounds, and genders.

Participating countries:

Albania, Austria, Belgium, Bulgaria, Croatia, Cyprus, Czechia, Denmark, Estonia, Finland, France, Germany, Greece, Hungary, Ireland, Italy, Kosovo, Latvia, Lithuania, Luxembourg, Netherlands, North Macedonia, Poland, Portugal, Romania, Slovakia, Slovenia, Spain, Sweden, Switzerland, Ukraine, United Kingdom