Hardened jihadists or guns for hire? The answer may lie in the hills of Tajikistan
Part of Saidakrami Rajabalizoda’s ear appeared to have been cut off and shoved in his mouth.
The gory scene was filmed by his captors, likely Russian security services, the day after the deadliest terrorist attack in Russia in decades.
Still bleeding through a white bandage wrapped around his head, Mr Rajabalizoda was soon trotted out in a Moscow court as one of the alleged perpetrators.
The 30-year-old migrant worker was 2,000 miles from his home in the Central Asian country of Tajikistan, where he had left his pregnant wife a few months before.
She gave birth and he has never met his child, relatives in his village told The Telegraph on a recent trip there.
Mr Rajabalizoda is one of four men – all Tajiks – that Russia charged within two days of a shooting spree in late March that killed 137 people at Moscow’s Crocus City Hall.
Clothing they were wearing during their capture appeared to place them at the crime scene.
As their cases roll through the Russian courts, the Kremlin insists that these four men are the hardened terrorists that led an attack in the name of IS-K, a group linked to Islamic State, which is responsible for a growing number of attacks around the globe.
Some experts – and, understandably, family members – have doubts.
The Telegraph travelled through villages and mountains of Tajikistan to track down relatives, friends and neighbours of all four of the accused.
Whether they are jihadists or fall guys, their lives tell a story about those drawn to Russia from Central Asia, state paranoia and also the methods and tactics of one of the world’s most feared terror groups.
The mother of Fariduni Shamsiddin, 25, lives in a modest one-storey house, reinforced with mud and grass, in the village of Hisor, about 20 miles west of Tajikistan’s capital, Dushanbe.
Muyassar Zargarova, 52, says she spoke to her son, who worked in a flooring factory in Russia, a few hours before the attacks about the simple dinner he was preparing that night.
She is convinced of her son’s innocence and insists he would not hurt a fly, despite spending two years in a Tajik prison.
“If I were to ask my son to kill one of the chickens in our yard, he would refuse to do it,” she said. “He would say. ‘I’m sorry, I can’t’.”
None of the accused knew each other in Tajikistan, a small autocratic country on the old Silk Road wedged between China and Afghanistan.
Dalerjon Mirzoev, 32, grew up in the dusty village of Galahona, dotted with a handful of homes with metal doors and stone walls, flanked by mountains in the distance.
Shomuhammed Nasrulloev, 64, a neighbour who watched him grow up, said he had “a very simple house and young children.”
Mr Mirzoev is a slim, reserved father of four who drove a taxi in Tajikistan.
“These days, we’re thinking more about how to support his family through this,” Mr Nasrulloev said.
Relatives of Mr Mirzoev, who did not want to speak on record over fears of reprisals from the Tajik government, say that he was not living in Moscow at the time of the attacks.
Instead, he was living in Novosibirsk, more than 2,000 miles east of the Russian capital.
Muhammadsobir Faizov, 19, was also living outside of Moscow, hours away in the city of Ivanovo, say those who knew him.
He worked as a hairdresser and no matter the occasion, he was always dressed immaculately, they said.
All four of them had complications with their status in Russia – migrants are required to register with the authorities in a cumbersome process – and most had been planning to return to Tajikistan within days of the attack as a result.
With the exception of Mr Mirzoev, all had arrived in Russia only a few months prior in search of better-paying work.
None were particularly religious and, in some cases, had to be encouraged by family to pray regularly.
Families say that they have had little to no official contact with Tajikstan and Russian law enforcement.
They say they have not been shown any evidence relating to the case and spend their days searching online and checking out the news for updates.
“They are accused of being terrorists,” said one relative. “Nobody will help us.”
“I don’t speak Russian. I can’t hire a lawyer – we don’t have the money,” said another. “What can we do? I know he is innocent.”
Relatives believe that these four men are collateral damage as Russia seeks swift justice to restore shaken public confidence, as Kremlin resources remain directed toward its war on Ukraine.
None of the accused appeared to show pride in their alleged actions in the immediate aftermath of the attacks, which raised questions with counter-extremism experts.
Rustam Azizi, who has interviewed many terrorists for his research, says jihadists are often keen to take credit for what they have done.
His view is shared by many expert observers watching the case closely.
He believes the four may have been set up to take the fall or create a distraction for Russian authorities, or perhaps were accessories to the crime, such as acting as getaway drivers for the main combatants.
This runs counter to some visual evidence, like the emblems on their clothing, linking them to the masked gunmen filmed at the crime scene.
But Mr Azizi says his theory falls in line with what is know about IS-K’s tactics and recruitment strategy – leveraging migrant communities to form small sleeper cells in different countries and bringing in technical expertise to support operations, such as chemists and doctors.
“To go somewhere with your own terrorists is risky, but if you find some locals, it’s not costly as they are already existing there…you just have to find a way to arm them,” he said.
But “you have to use them as soon as possible, because it’s risky to keep them for a long period of time,” said Mr Azizi, the research director of Tahlil, a Dushanbe-based NGO.
“Police can capture them and some might even try to escape the radical group.”
In footage from the attack and images leaked or released by Russia, one of the suspects was pictured after being arrested in a brown T-shirt and trousers with a Boss label, details that appeared to match the clothing worn by a gunman in footage of the attack released by IS-K.
Another suspect wore a grey shirt during his interrogation – clothing that matched that of another assailant seen in the attack video.
A white Renault sedan was photographed in Bryansk, a five-hour drive from Moscow, feet away from where Russian authorities said one of the suspects was arrested.
A similar car was also seen in footage from outside the concert hall where the attack occurred.
Concrete evidence may never emerge into the public domain given the opacity of and corruption in Russian courts.
The Kremlin itself blamed Ukraine for the attack, further muddying the official narrative in the aftermath of the shooting.
All four of the accused appeared to have been tortured by Russian authorities, as shown in disturbing videos that circulated on social media.
When the suspects appeared in court, they were battered and bruised – Mr Rachabalizoda with his bloodied ear; Mr Mirzoev looking weak and exhausted; Mr Shamsiddin with a swollen face likely from beatings.
Mr Faizov was so indisposed that he was rolled into the courtroom on an orange wheelchair and with a catheter.
Sirojiddin Muhriddin, the Tajik foreign minister, commented in a sign of irritation at the country’s powerful neighbour.
“The use of torture in the form of bodily mutilation is unacceptable,” he said in April during an official visit to Belarus.
“The price of confessions extracted in this way is well-known to everyone.”
The Moscow attack focused global attention on the prominence of Tajik nationals involved with IS-K, which appears to be growing in scope.
This year alone, Tajiks have been linked to bombings and shootings that the terror group claimed responsibility for in Iran, Turkey and Russia.
Tajiks, among other Central Asian nationals, have also been arrested in Europe and the US over the last year for suspected ties to the group.
Central Asia – a region next to IS-K’s home base in Afghanistan with similar culture and customs – is an obvious breeding ground.
The group has issued slick propaganda in local languages, including launching online a Tajik version of its magazine, Voice of Khorasan, a week after the Moscow shooting.
“They are turning Central Asia into a hub for propaganda of radical jihadist ideas,” said Parviz Mollojonov, a political scientist and acting country director for International Alert, a UK-based NGO that promotes peace.
“For IS-K, Central Asia is just one step toward forming a Muslim ‘caliphate’.”
With a January bombing in Iran that killed 95 people and wounded dozens, Tajiks were an asset as they could blend in easily given a shared Persian heritage and language.
Tajik and Farsi are essentially the same spoken language, though the former is written with Cyrillic – a holdover from when Tajikistan was part of the former Soviet Union.
Migrants from Tajikistan, like the initial four arrested, are a particularly vulnerable group.
At home, many face economic difficulties and restrictions on religious freedom, and choose to seek their fortunes abroad, with Russia a top destination.
But working odd jobs in Russia is tough, as Tajiks face discrimination, making them susceptible to being radicalised – for instance, via radical imams in mosques, where many gather in search of community and support abroad.
Recruiting by IS-K is happening offline elsewhere, too, including in prisons as some militants are instructed to land themselves behind bars with the express purpose to gain new members – similar to how criminal gangs might operate.
Some recruits have a criminal, police or military background, such as the late Gulmurod Khalimov, a former Tajik military officer, who was a chief recruiter for IS and later promoted to “minister of war.”
University graduates and young professionals in Tajikistan have also been pulled into militant groups when seeking alternative avenues of information and ways of thinking outside of the official authoritarian government propaganda at home.
The majority, though, are likely to be those who come from a more marginalised part of society – such as the migrants that go abroad – who are used as foot soldiers.
However, IS-K doesn’t have an open-door policy, noted Mr Azizi. Instead, potential new militants have to be introduced into the group and vouched for by current militants.
Experts worry that the group is just getting started.
Recent propaganda has specifically threatened countries including China and global sporting events this summer, including the Paris Olympics.
In June, a prison breakout attempt in Russia was allegedly linked to IS-K, as well as multiple mass shootings on the same day at churches and a synagogue.
Window of opportunity for terrorist groups
The Soufan Center, a DC-based non-profit research group, has highlighted that the US and its allies face a similar challenge.
With attention diverted to China, Ukraine and other pressing global concerns, terrorist groups have had a window of opportunity to rebuild.
Different parts of the US government, including the FBI and the department of homeland security, have over the last year warned of the increasing risk of a terrorist attack by IS-K.
The group is also gaining in prominence by tapping into pre-existing terrorist networks in Afghanistan, emerging despite the fall of the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria in 2019.
‘We don’t know the truth’
Across Tajikistan, there is widespread doubt about the direct involvement of the four initial suspects.
Most of the people The Telegraph spoke to were concerned that Russia was using the arrests to bully the country.
“We don’t know the truth,” said Rafshan, 45, an onion and potato vendor at the main bazaar in Hisor, where one of the suspects is from. “Tajiks aren’t violent like this, and I don’t believe what they showed us.”
Many are sceptical, because two of four people initially named as alleged suspects – all of whom were Tajik and whose names were released by Russian authorities – were not even in the country; instead, they were at home in Tajikistan, as Tajik authorities confirmed.
Experts say that IS-K’s attacks and recruitment efforts abroad, even if thwarted by the authorities, are helping the group to build an international profile.
The Taliban is also using the growth of IS-K to frame itself as an important partner for global security.
The Taliban can then persuade other governments by saying, “‘You see, now the Taliban has become a factor for your own security, and you have to communicate with us somehow’,” said Mr Azizi.
“So you have to choose between the bad, dealing with the Taliban; or the worse – the Islamic State,” he said.
For Ms Zargarova, it is an agonising time, not knowing the fate or health of her son, Mr Shamsiddin.
“Whenever I’m baking, I always cry, because Fariduni loved this kind of freshly-baked bread,” she said, crying, in her sun-dappled yard.
“Even if they threaten to kill me, I’m not convinced these four are guilty.”