Time to read: 16 minutes(s)

Author: Isabella Evloeva

26-year-old Chechen woman Seda Suleimanova was killed on the personal orders of State Duma deputy Adam Delimkhanov and buried outside the cemetery for "disgracing the family." This conclusion was reached in August 2025. voiced human rights activists, citing their sources.

In 2022, Seda fled Chechnya, attempting to escape an abusive marriage, and lived in St. Petersburg. In June 2023, she was found and returned home. Later, on the Chechen Ombudsman's Telegram channel появились Her latest photos: a girl sitting across from him in a high-necked dress with a forced smile. "She's in no danger," Soltayev assured. 

No one saw her again.

In the North Caucasus, family lynching is a systemic practice, legitimized by the authorities through rhetoric about "preserving traditional values." The Chechen Republic stands out as a region outside the control of the Russian authorities: as one of the article's subjects put it, "half a foreign state."

"NeMoskva" tells the story of how "honor killings" have occurred and continue to occur in Chechnya, from Soviet times to the present day. 

Rukiyat, Aina, and Limon: Three Lives for "Honor" 

Kheda, a native of the Chechen village of Dyshni-Vedeno, recalls the events of 1987, which spanned two decades and claimed the lives of all the women in the Gaziyev family. She had not previously shared this story with journalists. "Govorit NeMoskva" (NotMoscow Speaking) is publishing her testimony for the first time.

"In Soviet times, honor killings of women were rare, and each such story shocked people. What happened in our village was the most horrific event in my life."

The Gaziev family was considered prosperous: four brothers and three sisters. All were well-mannered, with no known faults. 25-year-old Rukiyat, 19-year-old Aina, and 15-year-old Limon were the village beauties. I was friends with the youngest: a fair-haired, modest girl who blushed with embarrassment. 

By the age of 25, Rukiyat's marriage had already broken up. Aina's life didn't work out either: she gave birth to a daughter and then divorced. Limon was still in ninth or tenth grade. Her older brothers had dispersed across the country: one worked as a doctor in Pyatigorsk, another lived in the Pskov region, and the third in Rostov. Two married Russian women. The youngest, Tagir, remained in his parents' home with his wife, children, sisters, and mother. His mother was a quiet, modest woman. His father, a former accountant, died of illness. 

Rukiyat suffered a misfortune: she fell in love with her former schoolteacher, but he married her friend. In the village, where nothing can be hidden, rumors of a pregnancy began to circulate. People gossiped that the teacher was the child's father, and Rukiyat was "disgracing the family."

In the summer of 1987, the girl went with her aunt to central Russia to work. There, she was hospitalized. Her aunt sent a telegram to her mother asking her to come. Tagir, already suspicious, went with her. By the time they arrived, Rukiyat had been discharged, but the young man went to the doctor and, for a bribe, discovered that his sister was indeed pregnant. He didn't tell anyone and insisted on taking her back to Chechnya, saying she wouldn't be able to work anyway.

In fact, Tagir, as he later revealed, already had a plan to “wash away the shame” of the family. 

Upon arrival, he waited for the right moment. When his mother left for her sister's for the night, he sent his wife and children to stay with relatives, locked the gate, and entered the house. That evening, Limon was cooking pilaf in the summer kitchen. 

He attacked the sisters with a knife. He killed Rukiyat immediately. Then he lunged at Aina, who was holding her two-year-old daughter. The child's presence didn't stop him. He left the little girl alone, but stabbed her mother. Fifteen-year-old Limon saw her brother and rushed to the gate, but it, already closed, was jammed. For a few seconds, Limon thrashed around the exit, tugging at the handle, screaming. Neighbors later recalled her cries: "I'm innocent! Don't kill me!" 

Tagir wanted to kill all three of them: he didn't bother to figure out who was right or wrong. In his mind, he'd eradicated the "infection" at its roots.

My brother was in that house after the tragedy. He said it was a terrible scene: bloody bodies, a crying child, and spilled rice—undercooked Lemon pilaf.

Immediately after "washing away the shame," Tagir went to see his aunt, who lived nearby. She was wearing a headscarf pulled low over her forehead. In Chechen tradition, this is a sign of deep grief: women who have lost their husbands or experienced an event that left them unable to return to their former course wore this headdress. "You can pick up your headscarf, girl." (aunt in Chechen – editor's note), and walk with my head held high – I have washed away the shame from our family,” he said.

He called the police from his aunt's and confessed: "I killed three sisters, I'm at such-and-such an address." At the time, Tagir didn't yet know that Aina had survived and was only pretending to be dead. 

At the funeral, the family, as was customary, opened the gates for condolences. But this drew criticism: "Why did you open the gates? It's shameful in front of everyone. You killed your own women, and now you're throwing a lavish funeral." The gates were closed, and the Gaziyevs quietly buried their daughters.

Life in the village came to a standstill. We tried to avoid going outside. The mother of the murdered girls didn't go anywhere—out of shame and unbearable pain. She withdrew and took to her bed. Aina, who had survived and recovered, cared for her.

Before the trial, respected villagers, including elders, drafted a letter asking for Tagir's sentence to be mitigated or even acquitted. It stated that he had acted in the name of honor, in a state of passion. The initiative group canvassed the courtyards, collecting signatures. They came to our place. Even in Soviet times, when such murders were considered criminal offenses, an unspoken "system" operated locally: the community acquitted the killer and tried to free him. Many signed.

In his final statement, Tagir declared, "I have no remorse. I thought I killed all three, but it turns out only one survived. I ask the court to grant me a half-hour's leave so I can complete my mission and wash away the shame. Then I'm prepared to serve time for triple murder."

The court sentenced him to 19 years, but he was pardoned and served only four. He was greeted as a hero in the village. His brothers were shocked and didn't speak to him for many years. The girls' mother died soon after. It was said that while she was still alive, she cooked plov every Friday and distributed it to the poor in memory of her daughters.

The tragedy was heightened by a post-mortem examination that revealed that 15-year-old Limon was a virgin. 

Tagir died during the first war in Chechnya [in 1994-1996]. But the story [of "cleansing" the family's honor] didn't end there. 

Ayna tried to move on with her life. First, she got back together with her ex-husband, who took her and their child to the Rostov region. There, they separated for good, and Ayna returned to Chechnya, living in Argun. One evening in the summer of 2008, she was sitting with her neighbors outside her house. Her 24-year-old nephew, Viskhan—Tagiru's son—sneaked up from behind. Ayna was struck with an axe, then struck again. Ayna died instantly. According to witnesses, Viskhan said he had come to "complete his father's mission."

History repeated itself. Just like twenty years ago, a delegation from the village once again went door-to-door collecting signatures—this time for the release of Viskhan.

I remember that day well: we were at my nephew's wedding, when the men arrived with a prepared letter and asked the guests to sign it. The "compassionate" neighbors—some willingly, some reluctantly—signed, one after another. My sister and I refused. "The murderer must go to jail," we said in unison.

Viskhan served seven years and returned to the village. He lives there now, never having started a family. The other two Gaziyev brothers died of cancer—people said it was from severe stress. Only the fourth brother survived; he left Chechnya. 

"Caught between several fronts of violence" 

"Honor killings" are reprisals by male relatives against women and men suspected of violating moral norms and traditions. The tribal system holds the family responsible for the "misdeeds" of its members. This logic also applies. rose modern reprisals against those who allegedly violated the code of conduct. Roots go away in the adat system - in the Caucasus and Central Asia, these are traditional rules that are not fixed by the state as law, but are well-established and historically developed. 

Since the first Soviet criminal codes in the 1920s, "honor killings" have been officially equated with crimes: the motive of honor was no longer considered a justification and no longer exempted from responsibility. But the murders continued, they were simply hushed up. 

Killings "in the name of honor" didn't cease even during the war in Chechnya. Grozny resident Madina recalled in a conversation with NeMoskva how her neighbor Malika, a divorced woman with two children who worked as a nurse, was murdered in 1996:

"The village was full of rumors—they said she was hanging out with the militants. No one saw anything, only rumors. When federal troops entered the area, Malika was found dead in the yard of her house, a bullet in her head. Her relatives said the feds had killed her, but everyone understood."

"During the Chechen wars, the threat came not only from Russian soldiers or shells, but also from one's own relatives. 'Honor killings' didn't stop—on the contrary, they continued amid chaos and violence. Chechen women found themselves caught between several fronts of violence: external and internal," писал American researcher Paul Murphy in his book "Allah's Angels: Chechen Women in War". 

See also: "Untouchability and sanctity were lost in the mists of time." How women became targets of repression in the Caucasus and why the situation will only get worse

Hidden Reality 

Every year, around five thousand women die in “honor killings” worldwide. These are evaluation UN. Amnesty International recorded Such crimes occur in various countries—from the Middle East to the United States and Canada. Russia is rarely mentioned in reports, not because there are no "honor killings," but because they are covered up. 

In 2018, the Legal Initiative опубликовала The first—and so far last—large-scale study of the problem in Dagestan, Chechnya, and Ingushetia. From 2008 to 2017, they documented 39 "honor killings." Only 14 went to trial, and one was an acquittal. 

The victims were most often young women—unmarried or divorced, less often married. "These were mostly daughters, sisters, wives, nieces, and stepdaughters"—those who lived under the same roof as the future killers, the report states. In three of the 39 cases, men were killed. 

"In the Caucasus, the honor of a family always rests with the woman," comments a public figure from Chechnya, speaking on condition of anonymity. "A man caught with a woman can be beaten or forced to marry. But a woman can be killed even for rumor or gossip."

"For women, the slightest pretext or suspicion is enough," notes a human rights activist from Chechnya, who also asked not to be named, in a conversation with NeMoskva. "Women's reputation is measured by 'purity' and control over their bodies, while men's honor is determined by strength and status. Men are usually killed for 'honor,' usually because they are suspected of homosexuality." 

There are no official statistics, nor could there be, says the human rights activist: cases of "honor killings" are systematically hushed up by the authorities and rarely reach the courts. Police complicity plays a key role in this. 

"Almost all men approved of this custom—and so did law enforcement officers. Crimes were not reported," recalls a former Chechen police officer. 

Nowadays, with the strengthening of federal oversight, concealing cases has become more difficult; forgery of official documents carries criminal penalties for the security forces themselves. Therefore, while "honor killings" were previously carried out demonstratively ("So that everyone knows: I'm clean, I punished the harlot"), and the public reprisal served as a warning to others, now the tactics have changed: "cleansing from shame" is no longer publicized. At the same time, the former law enforcement officer notes, if the crimes are committed by people close to power, they are able to silence the police. 

The problem of concealing crimes is exacerbated by the fact that the relatives of those killed do not have the right to public mourning. 

"If you mourn, it means you don't agree with the cleansing, it means you're casting a new shadow of shame on the family. That's why women are forced to remain silent and even pretend to support the murderers, to protect themselves and their other children. Besides, Kadyrov has repeatedly claimedthat "disgracing" relatives deserve murders,” explains a human rights activist from Chechnya. 

All this, she says, creates “systemic blindness”: society does not see the scale of the problem and is unable to create a tool to combat it.

What does Islam say about "honor killings"?
In Muslim communities in the Caucasus, many believe that "honor killings" are an Islamic practice. However, the imam of a mosque in Nice, Baskhan Magomadov, a Chechen by origin, says otherwise: 
Human life is considered sacred in Islam. Shedding blood is permissible only for a few crimes expressly specified in Sharia, and only after a trial. Execution without trial is the greatest sin. Such reprisals have nothing to do with Islam; they cannot be justified. They are relics of pre-Islamic customs. 
It recalls the words of the Quran: “Whoever kills a person except for murder or transgression on earth, it is as if he had killed all mankind” (Surah 5:32). 
Moreover, the concepts of “shame” or “impurity” do not exist at all in Islamic law, notes Magomadov. 

From family murders to state reprisals

"Honor killings" in Chechnya have expanded beyond the family and assumed state dimensions. November 2007 became a landmark. Then, in the outskirts of Grozny, the bodies of six murdered women were discovered overnight. This wasn't the work of robbers—the victims' money and jewelry were found. didn't touch.

Human rights activists then believed this was punishment for "violating norms of behavior." Chechen Ombudsman Nurdi Nuzhiyev stated that relatives have the right to kill women to "wash away shame." He added that Kadyrov's government is conducting "large-scale moral education work."

The turning point came in 2017, when the first anti-gay campaign took place. According to According to Novaya Gazeta, 27 men were murdered in Grozny in one January night—singlely for being suspected of homosexuality. They were kidnapped, held in secret prisons, tortured, and then handed over to relatives with the unspoken demand to "resolve the issue of honor" within the family.

Public approval from the authorities and society is what makes “honor killings” possible.  

"Clearing one's honor seems natural to people, so it doesn't provoke protest. On the contrary, the murderers are acquitted," says a human rights activist from Chechnya.

If relatives try to defend the woman, they are "under pressure from everyone—family, clan, neighbors." The only option is escape, but it is often impossible: the potential fugitive has no freedom of movement, no money, and no documents. Sometimes mothers or sisters help the woman escape, but for them, this is no less dangerous. Furthermore, the police often return the fugitive to her family, even when she directly states that her life is in danger. 

Attempts to rescue girls in Chechnya are faced with a well-established tactic: the fugitive delay On suspicion of theft or other minor offense, they issue an administrative violation and deprive her of her liberty for several hours. Relatives "negotiate" with the police to have her returned home on the promise not to run away again. This practice is used not only in Chechnya, but also in Dagestan и Ingushetia.

A telling, but not the only, example is the case of Khalimat Taramova, the daughter of one of Kadyrov's close associates. In 2021, she was forcibly removed from her safehouse in Makhachkala. The ruling refusing to open a criminal case saysTaramova's father told police that his daughter was being treated for drug addiction and was unaware of her actions. He convinced the police that the girl was being forcibly held in the shelter, taking advantage of her condition. Later, people associated with the Chechen administration have spread "official" appeal in which Khalimat asks that she and her family be left alone and that rumors not be spread that she is being harassed. 

"Khalimat's case showed that there's no protection for girls inside Russia," human rights activist Svetlana Anokhina told NeMoskva. "It's difficult to track the fate of those who return. Not everyone is killed, but the 'regime' is tightening: I know of cases where girls were chained to radiators."

"The state must stop turning a blind eye." 

The Chechen Republic stands out from other regions of the North Caucasus: it is a “half-foreign state” считает Lena Patyaeva, activist and friend of Seda Suleimanova, says: "Federal agencies—the Investigative Committee, the Human Rights Commissioner, and the Presidential Human Rights Council—formally retain power, but in practice, they are unable to operate in this territory. They acknowledge this when they repeatedly redirect appeals to Chechnya."

"Formally, the federal Investigative Committee has authority over the regional ones, but in reality, they prefer to ignore it for the sake of maintaining diplomatic relations with the Kadyrov regime. The logic is probably this: what do the lives of some young women mean compared to the peace of the empire?" the activist concludes.

All these factors make "honor killings" in Chechnya a unique phenomenon, according to a Chechen lawyer who requested anonymity: "Unlike other republics of the Caucasus, here they are embedded not only in tradition but also in the state system, which practically excludes internal mechanisms of protection."

Solving the problem requires working with public awareness, says a human rights activist from Chechnya: "We need to explain that human life is more important than so-called 'family honor.'" 

Crisis centers and shelters are also needed. They exist, but they are few in number, and their work is hampered by bureaucratic barriers, the risk of pressure from local authorities, the stigma of "foreign agents," and a chronic funding shortage, explains Svetlana Anokhina. Most are located outside the North Caucasus, and their addresses are kept confidential for security reasons, limiting access to assistance. 

But most importantly, an anonymous human rights activist from Chechnya is convinced, the state must stop turning a blind eye to such crimes, investigate them, and punish the killers. 

As long as the authorities themselves remain perpetrators of violence, it's difficult to talk about change, comments a Chechen lawyer: 

"The issue of such murders isn't just a matter of customs and stereotypes. When regional leadership itself covers up or orchestrates such reprisals, any talk of it is empty." 

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Kheda has not lived in Chechnya for a long time, but every time she comes, she visits the graves of the three Gaziyev sisters.

"The most painful thing for me is that they've been forgotten," she says. "The graves lie uncared for, no one visits them, and yet each one of them was a person. I tell this story so that they will be remembered. The system often protects not the weak, but the strong. And it doesn't matter who that power is—elders, men, or the state. As long as tradition is valued above human life, the killings will continue. And no laws will help, and the graves will be forgotten."

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