“Summonses are sent out by AI, it can’t see your sex”. Amid fears of renewed mobilisation, Russian women are receiving call‑up notices, unlawfully

They told me the summonses are “sent out by an AI, and it can’t see your sex”. Oksana

I went through the military department at university, specialising in “radio-relay and tropospheric communications”. In short, I’m a signals specialist.

I’d never received a summons since graduating, and then this came like thunder. When the text message arrived at the start of July, “A summons to the military enlistment office has been issued to you”, I assumed it was some kind of scam. I remember worrying at the start of the war, and everyone around me saying: “Come on, if they ever start on the women, it’ll mean everyone else is already at the front.” But no.

The message contained a link to the register of summonses. You go to the site—there’s a link to it on Gosuslugi [state services digital platform]—and you can open the summons itself in electronic form. The stated reason for the call-up: “to take part in activities relating to military training camps”. And by law, women cannot be summoned to military training at all.

I’m pregnant, and the whole situation has, of course, hit me hard. Naturally I’m worried for the baby too. If they take me, that’s the end of my pregnancy right there. Although under the law, a deferment from military service only kicks in from the 22nd week.

I called the enlistment office and explained that I’m a woman, and pregnant. Should I perhaps bring a certificate confirming the pregnancy? They told me the summonses are “sent out by AI, and it can’t see your sex”, but “come in all the same”. They said I wouldn’t need a note from my gynaecologist, just my passport and my military service card. They’d fill something in, then send me to some office “for a chat”.

That same day, after midnight, my summons vanished from the register. I assumed the site was glitching. In the morning, before setting off for the enlistment office—I was planning to go with my mother—I decided to double-check, but the summons still wasn’t there. It’s no longer possible even to request my record from the register: the page just spins with the words “loading data”.

I called their secretary. They asked who I was and said I’d need to call a different number so they could “check the database”. I’m not planning to call it, or to go to the enlistment office. You never know, and I’d rather not put myself through any more stress.

“I understand this isn’t just about "updating my details”. Anastasia

I work as a nurse in a private clinic. It began on June 9, when I received a summons to come in and “update my details”.

As someone with anti-war views who follows the news, I understood straight away that going to an enlistment office at a time like this is not a great idea. I contacted Idite Lesom [also known as Get Lost, a volunteer organisation that helps Russians avoid being sent to fight]. They advised me to take sick leave and confirm my details by post instead, which is what I did. They definitely received the letter, I sent it with proof of delivery.

Then on July 1 another summons arrived, ordering me to report on July 6. Its status now reads “deadline expired”. Someone may have tried calling me, but I don’t answer unknown numbers. I asked around among my old classmates; so far I’m the only one who’s received anything.

As for that second summons, I have absolutely no intention of going. I understand this isn’t just about “updating my details”: the register shows all my details are current, and on top of that I confirmed them in writing after the first summons.

“They said: ‘Since you have a small child, we’re withdrawing the summons’ ”. Natalya

I’m 30. My first degree makes me a signals and radio engineer, liable for military service. I worked in the field for many years; right now I’m on maternity leave and registered with an enlistment office in our region in the south of Russia.

I’d never had a summons before, this was my debut. It arrived on the night of June 1–2. I opened it and saw that I was to report to the enlistment office on June 5; the stated reason was “to verify military service documents”.

In the morning I started calling the enlistment office. The duty officer said that “most likely” they wanted me to come in so they could sign me up for military training camps, and since summonses of that kind were handled by “a particular person”, I should speak to him. He gave me the man’s phone number.

Naturally I couldn’t get through, though I tried for two days. So I went back to calling the office’s general lines. To be honest, at the time of that first call I didn’t even know that women with a military registration specialty cannot lawfully be sent to training camps. I only found that out later, after googling it.

The second time round, I threatened to go to the prosecutor’s office unless they urgently put me through to someone who could explain what on earth was going on. They gave me the number of the deputy military commissar. He picked up, and I immediately began laying out the situation in no uncertain terms. I told him I had a newborn in my arms and that I was not going to any enlistment office to be signed up for training camps—it’s against the law. If they insisted, I’d bring in the prosecutor’s office and we’d establish who’s responsible, and just how lawful all of this was.

At that, the man on the other end started backpedalling: “We’re not summoning any women to military training.” Yet, the first thing he cited was that my personal file contained no record of my marital status—the fact that I’m married. Even though I’d submitted all the documents, and my employer had updated my records with the enlistment office only last fall. Then it was: “What are you on about? We just wanted to check your details! Fine, since you have a small child, we’re withdrawing the summons.” And sure enough, the next day the summons was withdrawn. But I told them plainly: I’m not going to any enlistment office, otherwise we’ll settle this another way.

By the way, my female colleagues received the same summons and didn’t go either. Signals specialists.

What they were hoping to achieve, I don’t understand. My guess is that the enlistment offices have some sort of recruitment quota and want to size up the mobilisation reserve in person. After that, it’s just a gamble: playing dumb and seeing who knows their rights, who turns up and who doesn’t.

Editor: Anna Pavlova