While Ukrainian defence forces battle the Russians on the front lines, civilians in occupied territories risk their lives to assist from behind enemy lines. Despite the ever-present fear of torture or death, the drive to expel the occupiers fuels acts of resistance: civilians reveal enemy positions, carry out sabotage, and organise underground movements to support one another and unsettle the invaders.
МPreviously, we introduced Zla Mavka, a women’s non-violent resistance movement active across occupied territories of Ukraine, from Donetsk to Crimea. Continuing the theme of Ukrainian resistance, we speak with journalist and creator of the YouTube channel The Real History, Akim Galimov. How did the Kozak uprisings lay the groundwork for the Revolution of Dignity? Why have Ukrainians risen up, even within what is now modern Russia? And what impact do symbols like the yellow ribbon or the Ukrainian flag have in occupied territories today? Read on to explore these and other compelling insights
Ukrainian resistance in Russia
You were born in the village of Pogranichniy, Primorsky Krai. It is a part of Russia that borders China and is also known as the Zelenyi Klyn, a territory predominantly inhabited by Ukrainians since the late 19th century. You didn’t grow up there, but did your parents tell you about this region and its Ukrainian history?
Zelenyi Klyn
The historical name of the southern part of the Russian Far East, where Ukrainians settled for various reasons, particularly due to the advent of sea routes. During this migration, Ukrainians primarily chose valleys that resembled the steppe landscapes of their homeland.[…] My parents never told me about it, as they weren’t aware of it at the time. As I am researching history, I have recently discovered what the Zelenyi Klyn is. When I checked the village’s location, I realised it was right in the heart of Zelenyi Klyn. If you look at the names of the settlements around here, they are all Ukrainian. It’s as if you’re in the Cherkasy region (the region in central Ukraine – ed.) — just take the names of the settlements, and they’re identical. It’s clear that this area was heavily populated by Ukrainians. In the early 20th century, as the Russian Empire was collapsing, resistance movements also emerged there.
Photo: Khrystyna Kulakovska.
Zelenyi Klyn managed to retain its Ukrainian identity for a long time. In the 20th century, Ukrainians there established a people’s government, formed military units, and took part in the struggle for Ukraine’s independence. What might this story reveal to us that we have not yet fully understood? Does it, perhaps, highlight a deeper connection between Ukrainians and the Far East?
First of all, this story shows that Ukrainians are united. No matter where they live or what empires divide them, they always, firstly, gravitate towards each other into a united state, and secondly, they always resist.
If we talk not only about the Far East (easternmost region of Russia, bordering the Pacific Ocean – ed.), but even about modern Ukraine and the empires that our lands were under in the 19th and 20th centuries, one sometimes wonders how the Act of Unification ever became possible. Because Ukrainians there and Ukrainians here have lived in such different cultural contexts for decades and centuries. And despite this, when there was no Facebook, Instagram, or social media, […] they felt this Ukrainian identity, the identity of resistance to a certain extent, and gravitated towards each other. So, this story demonstrates unity. […] I even came across photos of a city in the Far East where demonstrations were held under Ukrainian flags.
The Act of Unification
was a historic agreement signed on 22 January 22, 1919, that united the Ukrainian People's Republic and the West Ukrainian People's Republic, two independent Ukrainian states that emerged in the aftermath of World War I.We have been oppressed by various forces for so long that resistance has become part of our DNA. A person who identifies as a Ukrainian – not necessarily being an ethnic Ukrainian – always feels that it is impossible to live without freedom.
Later, the Russian authorities were able, particularly in the Far East, to blur this identity. […] Over these hundred years, the Russians have managed to completely suppress and destroy it. So that people [in Russia] who even speak Ukrainian no longer realise that it is Ukrainian, they think it is some kind of Russian dialect.
On 22 January 2024, the President signed a decree regarding the territories of the Russian Federation historically inhabited by Ukrainians, stating that Russia has systematically oppressed Ukrainians for centuries and continues to do so, not only in Ukraine but also in the land now called Russia. Why is it important to discuss this now, when we seem to have other pressing issues, particularly the ongoing struggle on our own territory?
This is one of the possible ways we can influence Russia, and we definitely have to influence it and manage specific processes that are taking place there. Because it is a huge country with enormous resources. We understand that we will never defeat it militarily, but we cannot just live next door to it, because this imperial virus that infects their society will not disappear. That is, it may become dormant, but sooner or later – in 10, 20, or 30 years – it will return.
This is why we are interested in either significantly weakening or completely dismantling Russia. This can be achieved, particularly, by engaging with the nationalities living within Russia, who, due to the immense influence of Russian propaganda and repression, have forgotten that they are distinct peoples. […] They cannot achieve true prosperity under Russia because it drains all the resources from these regions and turns them into weapons for its imperial ambitions. As a result, these people live in poverty, they die in a war that isn’t theirs, and they are unable to speak their language, celebrate their holidays, or engage in other activities tied to their cultural identity. I believe our role is to awaken them, to help them realise that this situation is not normal.
Photo: Khrystyna Kulakovska.
Speaking of Ukrainians, this is also important because I don’t think we’ve ever really discussed the fact that there are a huge number of Ukrainians living in Russia. And this, too, is a strength that we can leverage. Moreover, when Russians claim that we are “oppressing” the Russian language, let’s stop and think about what’s happening to the Ukrainian language in Russia. Ukrainians are either the second or third largest ethnic group in Russia by population. So, where are the Ukrainian schools in Russia? Where are the Ukrainian cultural centres? […] Where is all this for Ukrainians? We need to talk about this, particularly abroad.
Editor’s note
According to the 2010 Russian census, Ukrainians were the third largest population in Russia (2.03%). The latest 2021 census, which included the results from the Russian-occupied Crimea, was condemned by the international community.That is why this law is very necessary. I can’t say it will bring any dividends or results overnight. But this is more about a long-term strategy, and we really need it. This is exactly about those asymmetrical steps that many people talk about when considering how we can win this war. We need unconventional solutions, and this is one of them.
We can see that there have been some attempts to resist mobilisation or war in Russia, but they are most evident in the territories where ethnic Russians are in the minority. Are Russians capable of resistance at all?
At one point, I thought so. But now I’m not so sure. It seems to me that this is a deeply imperialistic society, and to some extent, masochistic. The worse things get, the better they feel about it. If we look at Russian Orthodox Christianity, it’s all about blindly believing in something, with no attempt to understand or critically explain it. Everything that happens is often seen as God’s punishment […] As if it is “destined” for them.
So I think there will be no resistance there. The worse it gets for them, the more they’ll blame the West, Ukrainians, Americans, aliens – anyone but the [Russian] authorities. Once again, the story of the good tsar and the bad boyars is a defining part of Russian identity. They’ll always see some sort of sacredness in the power that oppresses, harasses, and kills them the most. They’ve been doing this since the Middle Ages. So, I don’t believe resistance is possible there.
The “good tsar and the bad boyars”
is a traditional narrative in Russian history and folklore, portraying the tsar as a benevolent ruler, whose good intentions are obstructed by nobles seeking personal gain.From Kozaks to independence: the tradition of resistance in Ukraine
You’ve dedicated many episodes on the Real History channel to the Kozak theme. Does the history of the Kozaks resonate with the resistance Ukrainians are mounting today?
The history of the Kozaks is no longer just about resistance; it’s about war: people took up arms to defend their territories and rights. However, when we talk about resistance today, most people tend to think of it in terms of civil resistance — rallies and protests. The Kozaks, on the other hand, were openly militant.
The Kozaks
were a warrior social class that emerged in the 16th century in present-day Ukraine for frontier defence and played a key role in Ukraine's statehood and national identity.Generally, this is the foundation of resistance to any foreign power trying to impose its order. Why did the Kozaks rebel in the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth (a Polish-led monarchy that existed in Eastern Europe from the 16th to the late 18th century – ed.)? Because they were stripped of their rights and freedoms and fought to regain them – they didn’t accept it. In many ways, this still holds true today.
Each nation and every representative of that nation carries a rich historical legacy, which is passed down from generation to generation. The Kozaks didn’t rebel without reason; they felt a distinct identity separate from that of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth. This identity clearly stemmed from the time of Kyivan Rus’ (a mediaeval empire with the centre in Kyiv – ed.), which evolved through the Grand Duchy of Lithuania and Rus, as much of the nobility and elite remained Rusyn, meaning Ukrainian. This was also passed on to the first Kozak leaders, who were also Rusyns, many of them of noble birth. Later, it transformed from the Kozaks into our creative elite. In the 19th century, when there was no opportunity to make a vivid political statement or fight, such figures as Taras Shevchenko and Ivan Franko emerged (leading Ukrainian writers regarded as the founders of the political Ukrainian nation). They carried this identity into the 20th century, when the Ukrainian People’s Republic (a short-lived Ukrainian state that existed in 1917-1921 – ed.) and our political leaders arose. Then it transformed into the Ukrainian Insurgent Army, the Sixtiers (the generation of the 1960s Ukrainian intelligentsia that promoted the idea of Ukrainian national identity in the USSR – ed.), and came to 1990. Therefore, this resistance, the feeling of otherness […] is transmitted. And that is why we are fighting today.
Photo: Khrystyna Kulakovska.
What is the role of culture in resistance, in the ability of civilians to resist occupation, either mentally or physically?
Culture lies at the heart of everything. I mentioned otherness — so what is it? It’s a distinct culture. We have traditions and ways of doing things that set us apart from those around us. When someone tries to forbid us from practising what is ours, what our parents did before us, it sparks resistance.
[…] The Ukrainian language represents mental borders untouched by the empire’s influence. Why did Russification in Ukraine ultimately fail? Because in tightly-knit rural communities, people continued to speak Ukrainian within their families. While Russification succeeded in cities through large-scale resettlement and creating conditions where social mobility required adopting Russian, it couldn’t penetrate these smaller, close-knit communities. Even when the Ukrainian Church and Greek Catholic Church were banned (during the Soviet era, religious life was officially banned – ed.), families secretly baptised their children and celebrated according to their traditions, preserving their cultural and spiritual identity.
[…] In school, we have often been told that the Soviet Union was not something that was brought from the Kremlin, but that Ukrainians themselves wanted to build “the bright communist future”. […] But who were the Bolsheviks sent to Ukraine? 90% of them were ethnic Russians.
If we look at the statistics, […] there were about five thousand peasant uprisings in Ukraine resisting collectivisation. That is, people did not want to join collective farms and did not want Soviet rule. This resistance of the Ukrainian people was broken primarily through the Holodomor which Stalin organised specifically for this purpose.
the Holodomor
was the 1932-33 man-made famine in Ukraine, which was engineered by Stalin’s regime to suppress Ukrainian resistance to Soviet rule, resulting in nearly four million deaths.You mentioned the Ukrainian Insurgent Army (UIA). This particular chapter of the Ukrainian [independence] struggle is perhaps the most tainted by Russian propaganda. Over the past three years, have we managed to clear this chapter of history from Russian propaganda?
For Russians, this is one of the most sensitive topics. We made a video about the 2024 edition of Russian history textbooks for 11th grade. These are the same textbooks that our children in the temporarily occupied territories are using. On the third page of the textbook about Russia’s “great 20th century”, it all starts with the UIA . It’s funny, but at the same time, it shows how obsessed they are with this story and how much of a trigger it is for them. It says that “the Red Army units valiantly dealt with the Bandera (the leader of the Ukrainian Insurgent Army – ed.) followers and the UPA.” This isn’t a textbook about Russia’s history, it’s a very distorted version of Ukraine’s history.
The Ukrainian Insurgent Army
was a nationalist movement active in the 1940s and 1950s, fighting against both Nazi and Soviet forces to establish an independent Ukrainian state.We as a society have already done a good job [debunking Russian myths about the UIA], especially after the Revolution of Dignity. I started my journalistic career in 2006. I moved to Kyiv and started working for the Inter TV channel. There was a news programme called Details, in Russian. Every year, we had the same stories, like the [May Day] demonstrations on the 1st and [Victory Day] on May 9th (the key ideological holidays in the USSR – ed.). At the same time, on Stepan Bandera’s birthday in early January, there were always demonstrations held by “nationalists”, as they were referred to at the time. Interestingly, they were always surrounded by police. And this was perceived in society and covered in the news as something abnormal. Now, when we celebrate the Intercession at the state level, when we have many holidays associated, particularly with our past and the Ukrainian Insurgent Army, it is perceived as normal; no one has any questions, and we will not see such stories anymore. So it seems to me that, finally, this history is not mythologised for us, and no one perceives Bandera, the Ukrainian Insurgent Army or the Organisation of Ukrainian Nationalists (the Ukrainian Insurgent Army’s predecessor – ed.) as something that casts a shadow on us.
The Intercession
On 1 October – the Christian holiday of the Intercession of the Holy Virgin – Ukrainians also commemorate its key historical military forces, celebrating the Day of the Ukrainian Kozaks, the Day of the Ukrainian Insurgent Army, and the Day of Defenders of Ukraine.Of course, we shouldn’t view this history in black and white. Often, with nations going through decolonisation, there’s a quick reversal, where everything that was previously rejected becomes seen as purely good, and a cult forms that can’t be criticised. Indeed, there were instances when the UIA committed war crimes. But that doesn’t mean the entire UIA was bad or purely good. History isn’t black and white; there are many nuances and we need to explore them.
Ukrainian Insurgent Army. Photo source: Chronicle of the UIA.
But there also needs to be an understanding that just as the Kozaks were part of our history in the 17th century, the UPA was a key force in the 20th century. It gave us a powerful push to keep resisting and enabled us to achieve independence in 1991. It’s all a continuation of what came before.
If we look at the period after the Second World War and before independence, what were the methods of civil resistance then? How did it survive at all when Ukrainians continued to live under the occupying Soviet regime?
The Soviet Union did many terrible things to our resistance movement, including punitive medicine. Recently, Denys Tarasov released a film called Madmen about punitive medicine. The Soviet Union came up with a nonsense diagnosis of sluggish schizophrenia. This has never happened anywhere else in the world. What is sluggish schizophrenia? This is when you have no symptoms, but you are considered sick. You’re considered sick because, for example, you listen to the Beatles, read Ukrainian poetry, remember that there is a yellow and blue flag, want to leave the Soviet Union, and so on.
People were thrown into psychiatric hospitals, and they ended up in an even worse condition than prisoners. Because the prisoners had the opportunity to contact lawyers, to somehow defend their rights. And if you are in a closed psychiatric hospital, you are sick, you have no right to defence – you are essentially nobody. And they can do whatever they want with you. Many of our dissidents, including [Leonid] Pliushch and [Mykola] Plakhotniuk, went through these terrible things. Viacheslav Chornovil (prominent Ukrainian dissidents resisting the Soviet regime – ed.), for example, spent a total of fifteen years in prison. We are now forgetting about it.
That is, you are thrown in once, you get out, and you clearly understand that if you continue to do what you were doing, you will definitely end up in prison again. And you do it again despite everything, and they throw you in [there]. Mustafa Dzhemilev was imprisoned for 15 years not because he stole or killed, but simply sought the return of Crimean Tatars to Crimea.
Mustafa Dzhemilev
a prominent human rights activist and politician, considered the leader of the Crimean Tatar national movement. During the Soviet era, Dzhemilev was sentenced seven times for advocating for the rights of Crimean Tatars, who were forcibly deported from their homeland in 1944.The sense of identity was preserved because of figures like these, truly heroes. […] Resistance cannot be eradicated; if it exists, it will grow in one way or another, because there are too many people. Empires and intelligence agencies are not all-powerful. They cannot control everything.
The 2000s – the years of modern resistance
The Orange Revolution was the first example of mass non-violent resistance in independent Ukraine, a demonstration of democracy in action. How did it change the way people understood the role of society in a democratic country?
The Orange Revolution
was a series of nationwide protests against electoral fraud favouring the Russian-backed candidate Viktor Yanukovych in Ukraine's 2004 elections. The rallies led to a re-run, resulting in the victory of pro-EU Viktor Yushchenko and broad democratic reforms.We saw that with your own efforts, you can go out and pursue what you dream of. The key is not to be afraid, and to reach a point where resistance becomes so widespread and powerful that a breakthrough becomes possible. This is what happened during the Revolution of Dignity. Resistance can break the system when it gains enough momentum. […] Ukrainians understood this in 2004 and repeated it in 2014.
In 2004, I studied in Sevastopol (the administrative centre of Crimea – ed.), at a branch of Moscow State University. We had powerful [Russian] propaganda there, [saying] ‘there is a coup d’état in Ukraine’. […] But the teachers and staff were local. And it’s a big myth that all Crimeans are pro-Russian; in reality, there is a significant pro-Ukrainian population there. I remember that there was a big TV set in the university library, and Channel 5 was broadcasting everything that was happening in Kyiv. This was also a form of resistance — showing the students: here is the TV, and the Orange Revolution will be on around the clock.
The Orange Revolution. Photo source: Glavkom.
[…] In 2004, the sense of absolute readiness to sacrifice hadn’t yet been fully formed because not much time had passed since the Soviet Union. By 2014, many of the activists on the Euromaidan were young people who had grown up in independent Ukraine. They felt their Ukrainian identity in a slightly different way and understood the full responsibility — that this is our country.
There are a lot of pessimistic opinions now that we have somehow lived wrong for 30 years and done something wrong. It seems to me that we did everything the right way if a generation of people who are ready to die for this country has grown up. And this is important. This means that the school curriculum was not so bad, and the parents were not so bad. They have still planted something good in our people.
Are there any risks that, in the future, we may make certain deviations from democratic processes, and that pro-Russian forces will return to the Ukrainian government?
I do not believe that pro-Russian forces in the classic version, like the Party of Regions (the pro-Russian force which had a majority in the Ukrainian parliament between 2006 and 2014 – ed.), will return. The fact that in the future, the Russians will try to continue to influence our policy is clear. This can manifest itself in different ways. First of all, they are now working with our society through psychological warfare. They are trying to sow disbelief in our ability to build a state: “You can’t do it, your government is corrupt, your institutions are corrupt, everything is going wrong.”
[…] But we also have to look at this soberly. We have a democracy, and I hope it will continue. Democracy is a strategically stronger system than dictatorship. But in short-term periods, it is more vulnerable to such influences and injections. An open society means you can say anything, which makes it easy for different narratives to influence people. Today, we have to be very careful about fake news that spreads panic among us.
Returning to 2014. The occupation started with your home, Crimea. Russia often likes to boast, especially on the international stage, that they took Crimea without bloodshed, claiming there was no resistance. What was the resistance like in Crimea at that time?
I often went to Crimea to visit my parents, studied there, basically grew up there, and saw what was happening. At some point, I became so disgusted by Russia’s actions there — those Moscow Houses of Russian-Ukrainian Friendship. There were many agents operating under the guise of cultural activities, but their real aim was simple: distributing Russian passports.
In 2013, we wanted to make a film about it. But we thought about it for a long time, the concept, this and that, and the Revolution of Dignity began, and then everything spun out of control. In February 2014, I went to Crimea with a small camera to document what was happening. There was no real concept, I was just filming everything as a journalist. I visited military units, stayed with our soldiers in Feodosia. It was very strange to observe everything. I realised how well it was all planned. “Cossacks” (Russian militant groups – ed.), paid activists, elderly people with Russian flags — everyone was saying the same. People had been trained on and prepared for this. Everyone had the same rehearsed answers, no matter which part of Crimea you were in.
The Revolution of Dignity
a series of nationwide Ukrainian protests from late 2013 to early 2014, sparked by the suspension of an EU association agreement. The protests resulted in the ousting of Ukraine's pro-Russian President Yanukovych and the subsequent Russian invasion of Ukraine.Firstly, there were victims in Crimea. Everything was done in the style of the 1990s gangster days, where people were kidnapped and then found tortured somewhere. Secondly, there was resistance. Today, we mark the Day of Resistance in Crimea on 26 February. On this day in 2014, one of the largest rallies of Crimean Tatars took place near the Crimean parliament, a pro-Ukrainian rally. Those who remember these events recall the photographs — thousands of Crimean Tatars who answered the call of the Mejlis (the representative body of the Crimean Tatar people – ed.) to declare that Crimea would not accept Russian rule and that it was Ukrainian territory. After that, many other actions took place, with most of the participants being Crimean Tatars. It was a non-violent resistance, with Ukrainian flags, banners, and blue and yellow balloons.
Rally in Simferopol, 26 February 2014. Photo: Stas Yurchenko / RFE RL.
For Crimean Tatars, Russia has always been an enemy and a foreign presence on their land. The first annexation of Crimea occurred at the end of the 18th century, in 1783, when Catherine II (the Russian empress – ed.) effectively seized Crimea. Until then, there were no Russians in Crimea at all.
Since then, they have done everything to push Crimean Tatars out of there as much as possible, because there have been several powerful waves of Crimean Tatar emigration to Turkey and other countries. Crimean Tatars left not in search of a good life or better earnings, but because it was dangerous for them to live in Crimea. And this all happened for 200 years, until Stalin finally “resolved the problem” in 1944, by deporting all Crimean Tatars from Crimea.
People who destroy your nation cannot be your friends. Crimean Tatars understand very well that coexistence with Russia is impossible. You can either become a Russian or be killed. No one wants to become Russian.
The resistance movement in the temporarily occupied territories
Movements like the Yellow Ribbon and Zla Mavka are making small yet powerful gestures of resistance. What is the current resistance movement in Crimea, and what role do symbols like the yellow ribbon play in it?
I see news about resistance in the occupied territories almost every day. This shows that the movement, the voice, is there, and it’s powerful. It certainly has an impact. Last year, we carried out a major project called “Resistance”, where we collected the stories of Ukrainians involved in non-violent resistance in the temporarily occupied territories, mainly during the first year of the full-scale war. We spoke to many experts about the nature of this resistance. When we read stories in the news about ribbons or flags, we often think it’s just a ribbon or a Ukrainian flag, something that motivates us. But how does this resistance actually affect people in the occupied territories?
Zla Mavka resistance movement in the occupied Crimea. Photo source: Zla Mavka Telegram channel.
I’m sure we can talk about the issue of collaborationism. The symbolism that appears in Crimean cities or other occupied regions has a significant impact on the level of collaborationism. When people see a Ukrainian flag or a sticker in their neighbourhood, it sends a message that there is a pro-Ukrainian environment around them. It’s a subtle but powerful form of resistance. On the other hand, if someone flaunts a Russian flag, they are likely to be handed over when Ukrainian forces return. Someone is here, and they are watching you.
Symbolism provides hope to people who may not yet have the courage to take action, but it reassures them that our “brothers in arms” are nearby. It also offers powerful emotional support, especially for those living under occupation. If you support the Ukrainian government and wait for its return, the experience can be incredibly difficult, as you are living in a hostile and very dangerous environment.
What other tactics Russia is using to weaken this resistance?
First and foremost, imprisonment. The most active members of the population are either imprisoned or intimidated. […] There’s also, of course, propaganda. They constantly try to portray their law enforcement and other structures as fighting against the resistance. Arrests, particularly of Crimean Tatars, are always heavily covered. It’s a clear message: “Look, if you try to do the same, this is what will happen to you — you’ll be taken far away to Russia in a prison van”.
There are numerous detentions. It seems that more than 200 people are currently being held, the majority of whom are Crimean Tatars. Not all of these people have openly declared their pro-Ukrainian stance. A significant number of them are activists involved in human rights work. They defend the rights of other prisoners or spread information about violations of rights and freedoms in Russia and the occupied territories. In other words, Russia is attempting to suppress any form of dissent.
Can Ukrainian society and the state effectively convey information and maintain communication with people in the occupied territories?
There should be events in Ukraine to show that we remember those territories. People in the temporarily occupied areas are following what’s happening in Ukraine. For pro-Ukrainian people, all these events — exhibition openings, conferences, round tables — no matter how boring they may sound to us, are important. There is also a lot of [Ukrainian] content being watched in the temporarily occupied territories. We have statistics on our videos. I won’t say it’s in the millions, but we consistently get a few thousand views every month, and I’ve seen it across different cities. I’m genuinely glad that places like Yalta, Simferopol, and Bakhchisarai (the cities in Crimea – ed.) are among them.
“Mavka’s money” with the inscriptions “This is not Russia. You are in Ukraine”. Photo source: Zla Mavka Telegram channel.
“Mavka’s money” with the inscription “Banks of Russia have no place here. Crimea is Ukraine”. Photo source: Zla Mavka Telegram channel.
Mavka’s money
is an initiative led by the Zla Mavka resistance movement across Russian-occupied territories, which implies the circulation of counterfeit Russian currency with pro-Ukrainian inscriptions.
I think we talk much less about Donetsk and Luhansk. Crimea is always somewhere on our agenda: we have a powerful Crimean platform, [a] lot of events, diplomats, everyone is always talking about Crimea. It is always in the news; I hear something about it every day. But I often think, how long has it been since I heard anything about what’s happening in Donetsk or Luhansk (the cities in the east of Ukraine, occupied by Russia since 2014 – ed.)? It’s been a long time. We should pay more attention to this and maintain better communication with the people who stay there. I’m sure there are tens of thousands of people still waiting to be liberated.
The Crimean platform
is an international initiative launched by Ukraine in 2021 to address the illegal annexation of Crimea by Russia.In the political space, there’s talk about how some of our partners might try to persuade us to accept peace on the condition of territorial concessions. If you imagine this scenario, how would it affect the people who have been resisting in the occupied territories all these years? Would it feel like a betrayal to them?
I can’t speak for everyone, as each person will perceive this differently. However, I don’t believe it will diminish their resistance. I am confident that, no matter what the future holds, we [Ukraine] will never legally recognise the occupied territories as Russian. It’s just a matter of time and our efforts.
[…] If we look at the beginning of this war, all the support came from the West when it realised that people in the occupied territories didn’t want this government. The more voices like these there are, the stronger the overall message becomes, and the better it is heard in the West. Politics is what it is. Unfortunately, when you understand something is happening but don’t see the crimes with your own eyes, you can turn a blind eye. But when you witness the horrors — the torture, imprisonment, and protests — you can no longer stay silent.
Which story of popular resistance do you remember the most and why?
This is the story of a teacher, Ms Larysa [Fesenko]. It took place in the Kharkiv region, somewhere around Kupiansk. She was the principal of a school, and when the Russians seized the settlement, she refused to teach according to the Russian curriculum. We recorded an interview with her, and she shared how teachers came to her, with a minority refusing to cooperate with the occupation authorities, while the majority agreed.
She was threatened and eventually arrested. She spent 45 days in prison (a torture chamber – ed.). When the area was liberated, someone managed to open the door, and she escaped from the prison on her own. She ran through the fields at night and eventually made it home, free. For me, this is an act of heroism and an understanding that everything is a matter of life and death. Because the Russians would kill you in an instant, and that’s it. All those international laws and rules of warfare mean nothing. So when people do this, especially teachers at school, it is incredibly inspiring.
Why is it crucial to document our resistance now?
Because this is our new history. Right now, thousands of events are unfolding around us, and we don’t always have the time to analyse them. But I’m sure that in ten, twenty, thirty, fifty, or even a hundred years, our descendants will look back at these events, analyse them, and draw inspiration from them. Just as we began with the Kozaks, who laid the foundation for resistance, in two hundred years, the stories of these people will serve as the foundation for [Ukraine’s] future progress. We must remember these individuals, and history must remember them. It’s like a small piece of a puzzle, but when put together, it forms a powerful image of what the Ukrainian spirit and Ukrainian resistance are, of what Ukraine itself is.
If we don’t record this history, if there’s a gap, our enemy will actively and successfully fill it, because they can easily populate the information space with their fabricated narratives from the very same temporarily occupied Ukrainian territories.
Photo: Khrystyna Kulakovska.
Some of the guest’s views may not align with Ukraїner’s editorial stance.