To some, the swimming lake at Yemva is “a lovely spot” — a picturesque reservoir full of swans, ideal for a cool dip on a hot day. Others call it a graveyard. Beneath a photo of this artificial beach in Russia’s northern Komi Republic, one social media comment reads: “The whole town knows — it’s nothing but bone upon bone down there.” Locals have been swimming in this lake for decades. But it was created by digging out a site that was once a mass grave for victims of the Soviet Gulag system, the notorious network of forced-labour camps.
Local residents regularly find human bones on the shore. There is no memorial or plaque to remember the dead that might serve as a warning. Authorities have never marked the site. Even during a recent debate over what should be done with the remains, they refused to confirm that the bones belonged to Gulag prisoners. During excavation, an excavator brought up not just soil but human remains and fragments of coffin wood. Even so, construction at the site — located more than 1,000 kilometres north-east of Moscow — was never halted. Groundwater spring water was channelled into the pit, and residents of Yemva, a town of around 15,000 people, have been swimming there ever since.
Five years ago, however, a fire in the area and the arrival of a group of researchers reignited debate over the bones. Some local residents said the entire area should be dug up again and all the remains reburied properly. Others called for a cross to be placed at the site. Still others said there was no need for such a fuss — that the Gulags were not so terrible, and that only criminals had been held there. In the end, local authorities did nothing. This inaction reflects a broader pattern across Russia, where mass graves from that era are typically left unmarked. Those who have tried to research or commemorate the victims have faced legal action, and discussion of the Gulag system has increasingly become a taboo subject.
According to figures from Moscow’s Gulag History Museum, which authorities shut down this year, around 20 million people passed through Soviet labour camps, penal colonies and prisons between 1930 and 1956. Of these, around 4 million were convicted on political grounds. During this period of repression under Stalin and immediately after, more than two million people died in state custody. Another six million were forcibly resettled to remote regions of the Soviet Union.
The town of Yemva — whose name means “pure water” in the Komi language — grew out of a labour camp established in 1928. Most of the area’s residents are descendants of either Gulag prisoners or camp guards. The picture is much the same across the wider Komi region. Yemva still has an active penal colony for convicted men in operation today. Life in the camps, set amid the sub-Arctic evergreen forests of the north, was brutal. There was not enough housing for prisoners; even in winter, when temperatures fell to minus 50 degrees Celsius, many had to live in earthen pits or tents. From morning until night, they cleared forest and built railway lines. Their daily food ration was 400 grams of bread and a bowl of soup. Historians estimate that more than a million prisoners — both political and non-political — passed through Komi’s camps, though there is no precise figure for how many died there.
In 2021, firefighters extinguishing a nearby grass fire discovered the bones of at least three people, prompting local authorities to intervene. Investigators confirmed the remains were at least 15 years old and showed no signs of trauma. Citing “the absence of any criminal activity,” they did not open a case. Investigators concluded that the site where the bones were found had been used as an “informal mass burial ground” for Gulag prisoners between 1930 and 1950.
The matter might have ended there had a group of researchers working on Gulag history not travelled to the site six months later from the regional capital, Syktyvkar. Writer and local historian Grigory Spichak said: “We went to the excavation site, and we didn’t even have to search — the bones appeared before us almost immediately.” Fellow researcher Igor Sazhin said: “We found rib bones and pelvic bones. There is no way to mistake these for animal remains.” He added: “Leaving them like this is simply inhumane. Yemva carries on with its daily life without ever acknowledging this horrifying trace of its past.”
Under Russian law, newly discovered burial sites — including graves of victims of mass repression — must be registered and marked by the authorities, and the remains reburied where necessary. Sazhin contacted the state prosecutor’s office, but no action was taken. About a year later, he requested that the local administration and church at least place a cross beside the lake. The administration told the prosecutor’s office that, after contacting the regional prison department, the interior ministry and a local history museum, it had found no evidence confirming the site as a Gulag burial ground.
Others, however, are far more certain. Researcher Orest Romanko wrote on social media: “These are unquestionably the remains of Gulag victims, because they were buried without clothing or shoes, at a depth of exactly one spade’s length.” The history of mass repression in Russia remains a politically sensitive subject, and people who have tried to identify mass graves have faced legal cases. Nikolai Arakcheev, director of a Gulag history museum in western Russia, was fined for removing a skull without authorisation.