"Danger Not Proven": How Europe Is Denying Asylum to Russian Queer People
Queer culture researcher and Queerorama project founder Roman Polyakov has published a major piece in Novaya Gazeta Europe about the fate of Russian queer people being denied asylum in EU countries — even when cases involve documented violence, credible threats, and families on the verge of being torn apart.
Obtaining asylum in Europe is becoming increasingly difficult for queer refugees from Russia. Migration authorities approach cases formally, ignore context, and split families into separate applications. Violence, threats, and public anti-war activism are not enough. The statistics confirm the trend: in 2024, Germany approved only 10% of asylum applications from Russian nationals — 19% fewer than the year before.
The piece covers three stories.
The Family That Almost Got Separated
Artur, his husband Rudolf, and their adopted son Viktor — who has severe cerebral palsy — arrived in Germany in 2022. They spent more than three years waiting for a decision, enduring threats in a refugee camp, conflicts with religiously conservative neighbours, and repeated emergency relocations in the middle of the night. In March 2025, Artur and Rudolf finally received refugee status. Viktor was denied. The reason: he is not an LGBTQ+ person, and therefore, in the logic of the migration authority, faces no danger in Russia. The fact that he has a disability, has no guardians or relatives in Russia, and is legally considered a child under German law was not taken into account. The family went to court. The hearing lasted six hours instead of the scheduled forty minutes — partly because the courtroom interpreter could not bring herself to say the word "gay" and referred to LGBTQ+ identity as membership in an "LGBT party."
The Couple Let Down by Their Lawyer
Masha and Kristina crossed into Finland three and a half years ago. In Russia, they had lived openly — posting photos together, speaking out against the war, and receiving threats, including from a well-known informant who had previously reported other queer activists. After Masha left Russia, police visited her parents asking about her whereabouts. Despite all of this, the court ruled the danger unproven. It later emerged that the legal assistant assigned by their reception centre had filed the paperwork incorrectly, meaning a significant portion of the evidence was never considered. The Supreme Court refused to hear the case — as it does with nearly all refugee appeals. The couple is now waiting for a decision on their second application.
The Activist Whose Friend Was Killed
Mark Yakovlev is 19 years old. He grew up in Makhachkala, where he faced bullying, threats, and a suicide attempt. At 16 he moved to St. Petersburg and began blogging about queer rights and giving media interviews. At 18 he flew to Yerevan and applied for a French humanitarian visa — and was rejected, because France had quietly changed its rules and now only issues such visas to activists and volunteers. Mark only found out after receiving the refusal. Shortly before this, a close friend of his — a woman who had fled Chechnya and was also denied a visa — was murdered in Yerevan. On the day of the killing, Mark received a voice message from her account: it was her killers, threatening him. Mark attempted to enter the EU via the Balkan route, but was turned away at the Croatian border — because it was a weekend. He is now back in Yerevan, gathering documents for another attempt.
All three stories point to the same systemic failure: European asylum systems are not equipped to handle the reality of queer refugees fleeing authoritarian states. Bureaucratic rigidity, procedural errors, and a refusal to consider family context turn the process of seeking protection into an exhausting ordeal — for people who have already survived violence and continue to face threats.
The full piece by Roman Polyakov is available on the Novaya Gazeta Europe website.
Obtaining asylum in Europe is becoming increasingly difficult for queer refugees from Russia. Migration authorities approach cases formally, ignore context, and split families into separate applications. Violence, threats, and public anti-war activism are not enough. The statistics confirm the trend: in 2024, Germany approved only 10% of asylum applications from Russian nationals — 19% fewer than the year before.
The piece covers three stories.
The Family That Almost Got Separated
Artur, his husband Rudolf, and their adopted son Viktor — who has severe cerebral palsy — arrived in Germany in 2022. They spent more than three years waiting for a decision, enduring threats in a refugee camp, conflicts with religiously conservative neighbours, and repeated emergency relocations in the middle of the night. In March 2025, Artur and Rudolf finally received refugee status. Viktor was denied. The reason: he is not an LGBTQ+ person, and therefore, in the logic of the migration authority, faces no danger in Russia. The fact that he has a disability, has no guardians or relatives in Russia, and is legally considered a child under German law was not taken into account. The family went to court. The hearing lasted six hours instead of the scheduled forty minutes — partly because the courtroom interpreter could not bring herself to say the word "gay" and referred to LGBTQ+ identity as membership in an "LGBT party."
The Couple Let Down by Their Lawyer
Masha and Kristina crossed into Finland three and a half years ago. In Russia, they had lived openly — posting photos together, speaking out against the war, and receiving threats, including from a well-known informant who had previously reported other queer activists. After Masha left Russia, police visited her parents asking about her whereabouts. Despite all of this, the court ruled the danger unproven. It later emerged that the legal assistant assigned by their reception centre had filed the paperwork incorrectly, meaning a significant portion of the evidence was never considered. The Supreme Court refused to hear the case — as it does with nearly all refugee appeals. The couple is now waiting for a decision on their second application.
The Activist Whose Friend Was Killed
Mark Yakovlev is 19 years old. He grew up in Makhachkala, where he faced bullying, threats, and a suicide attempt. At 16 he moved to St. Petersburg and began blogging about queer rights and giving media interviews. At 18 he flew to Yerevan and applied for a French humanitarian visa — and was rejected, because France had quietly changed its rules and now only issues such visas to activists and volunteers. Mark only found out after receiving the refusal. Shortly before this, a close friend of his — a woman who had fled Chechnya and was also denied a visa — was murdered in Yerevan. On the day of the killing, Mark received a voice message from her account: it was her killers, threatening him. Mark attempted to enter the EU via the Balkan route, but was turned away at the Croatian border — because it was a weekend. He is now back in Yerevan, gathering documents for another attempt.
All three stories point to the same systemic failure: European asylum systems are not equipped to handle the reality of queer refugees fleeing authoritarian states. Bureaucratic rigidity, procedural errors, and a refusal to consider family context turn the process of seeking protection into an exhausting ordeal — for people who have already survived violence and continue to face threats.
The full piece by Roman Polyakov is available on the Novaya Gazeta Europe website.