Thoughts in wintry Eastern Ukraine

Driving through the wintry landscapes of Eastern Ukraine, I am, as usual, taken aback by the beauty of the landscapes that have not yet been destroyed. I feel the gap in understanding widening between those who know what is happening in the frontline regions and those who do not.

Every day, people in the West ask me what Ukrainians think about a ceasefire, about territorial concessions, whether they are tired, and if it’s time to negotiate. “All wars end at the table of negotiations.” It’s violent to hear—even from me, a foreigner here. I see firsthand what this would mean for Ukrainians, just as I see firsthand how landscapes in Eastern Ukraine are turning into ashes.

It feels as if Ukrainians scream into the void, dying in relative indifference, and that they would be better off doing so in silence because the West is tired, bored, and annoyed that they are still fighting.

But it’s not a game. Ukraine can’t just be switched off. This war will not be over just because some think it’s time to sign papers. Tens of thousands are dead and wounded; entire generations who were the bright future of Ukraine have perished. They are now called heroes, but beyond that soothing word is only silence and emptiness for tens of thousands of families who have lost their loved ones. What about the millions of victims of occupation? Do we simply forget that they exist? What about the deported children? Do we let them grow up brainwashed, then be used as cannon fodder against their own? Do we simply shrug them off? What about Crimea, which some say is “gone”? Why would that be? It’s not gone; it has been let down. Ukraine doesn’t fight just for itself—and yet it lacks the necessary support to win. It lacks the support to survive. Would you wish that for your family, your people?

But I want to hope: I saw what Syrians achieved with absolutely zero support from the world. So maybe Ukrainians, when they are similarly let down, will still overcome.