Last night, my Ukrainian friends Sergiy and Denis stayed up late in a bar in Kiev. This morning they woke up to the sound of sirens. The war had begun.
Sergiy, 38, who was born in eastern Ukraine and now lives in Kiev, at first sounded cheerful when I called him last night. “Life goes on,” he said, commenting on the lively soundscape. Then he became serious. “Putin must be thinking of his legacy and is on a mission to build back the USSR. Russian TV channels have been banned in Ukraine [since 2014], but we sometimes watch his speeches on YouTube.”
When I asked him about the future, Sergiy despaired. “I’m trying to develop a green energy business in Ukraine. Just two months ago we talked to US investors, but no one wants to speak to us now. No one will invest in a country at war.”
I asked his friend Denis, 30, who works for a state energy company, whether asking for Nato membership — which is widely accepted as the catalyst for invasion — was worth it. “It’s a matter of principle now. Putin wants to scare us to back off. We won’t.”
Denis shared some conversations with me from his work WhatsApp group. Heartbreakingly, they discussed how to explain the war to their children. I asked them about Ukrainian president Volodymyr Zelensky’s approval rating; just 25 per cent of the respondents in a recent poll said they would vote for him. Neither Sergiy nor Denis voted for him in the last election, but they agreed with his stance on foreign affairs. “He asked Europe and the US to support Ukraine against the Russian aggression. Will the West actually make it hurt or is Europe too dependent on Russian money and gas?”
When I tried to contact another acquaintance in Kiev, she refused to speak to me. “I don’t speak to Russians,” she said. It was hard to swallow but I understand. I was born in Yekaterinburg but have been living in Britain for over 20 years. London is my home now, but I still think of Russia as my motherland. And Russia isn’t Putin.
Yesterday was a public holiday in Russia. Defender of the Fatherland Day dates back to the foundation of the Red Army. It was my mother who reminded me of the date. Typically, women and children give their husbands and fathers small presents. I was aghast. Celebrating the Russian army was the last thing on my mind. I bit my tongue. My parents, who are retired and still live near Yekaterinburg, live off state-owned propaganda-pumped TV channels. The latest rhetoric is that Russia must defend itself against the Nato aggression and that Ukraine’s separatists are fighting Kiev’s government of neo-Nazis.
On Wednesday evening, the main federal channel showed fireworks in Moscow, St Petersburg and Volgograd, reminding Russian people of their great sacrifice and the ultimate victory in the Second World War. The older generation get their news and form their views watching this propaganda.
I avoid talking to my parents about politics. It only leads to heated arguments and tears. Even this morning I found it hard to find the right words. My mother said she was afraid. I said so was I, but what I really feel is anger and shame.
Like many other Russian expatriates, I look at the unravelling crisis with sheer helplessness. We call it ‘bespredel’, which is a difficult to translate Russian word meaning “boundless lawlessness”, something an unhinged despot would enjoy.
Today I feel horrified. I am willing ordinary Russians to take to the streets to protest against the war with Ukraine, but I understand the grim reality. Brave, solitary protestors get arrested in Russia within minutes. Anti-war graffiti get painted over. Anyone who speaks against Kremlin policy risks losing their job, especially if they happen to work in the state-controlled sector.
Most Russians aren’t naive. Putin’s speech recognising the sovereignty of the Luhansk and Donetsk regions — two separatist, self-proclaimed republics in eastern Ukraine which Putin said on Monday he recognised as independent — was really about refusing to accept the independence of Ukraine. Putin believes Ukraine should be a vassal state of Russia. He even wrote an essay about that back in July last year, calling Russians and Ukrainians “one people”.
Most ordinary Russians are quietly accepting that the Kremlin is waging war on Kiev. This sentiment is well summarised by Yury Dud, Russia’s most prominent YouTube broadcaster whose liberal views and candid interviews with rappers, opposition politicians and other personalities in Russia attracted a loyal following of 9.85 million subscribers. Dud posted an extract from his interview with a member of a St Petersburg band, Animal Jazz, on his Instagram yesterday. “How do you feel about what’s happening between Russia and Ukraine?”
“Dreadful. It’s a tragedy. A feeling of guilt. All those masquerading Russian soldiers sent to prop the separatists, all that meddling – I’m ashamed. Because on the one hand, there is nothing I can do. On the other, this is my country even if I’m not directly responsible for those actions.” Dud himself denounced Putin’s “imperialist madness” and called for peace.
Olga Gaiterova, professor at the Ural State University of Economics, told me she was categorically against the war because of the pointless bloodshed and resources poured into “Putin’s pet project” at the expense of investment in healthcare, education and infrastructure. “It is a classic manoeuvre by the Kremlin to divert attention from rising inflation and falling incomes. We buy cucumbers for 200 rubles [£1.82] a kilo! Tomatoes are 300 rubles [£2.72]! People have no money, people don’t trust the government. Previously, some would say Putin did well to get the Crimea back, but now most struggle to make ends meet.”
Another Russian woman who asked to remain anonymous has a different view. “Last summer, I went to the Crimea which was unrecognisable from my previous visit in 2008. It received a lot of investment. The tourism is booming – all thanks to Russia. So maybe it’s all for the best and instead of the endless military conflict, eastern Ukraine has a chance to live in peace and prosperity.”
I called a family friend in Russia. Tamara Khudyakova is in her seventies. She lives in a small village in the Urals but last January she and her husband came to the city of Yekaterinburg to take part in protests in support of the Russian opposition leader Alexei Navalny, who was detained immediately after he returned to Russia following treatment in Germany for poisoning. She told me that they were prepared to march again, but only if a demonstration was pre-approved. “You know what happens to dissidents otherwise.”
“I’m afraid of war, like any other human being. Ukraine is our neighbour. I feel sorry for its people.” When I asked her about consequences for ordinary Russians, she reminded me about the so-called “anti-sanctions” the Russian government would introduce, which would mainly suffocate its own people. “My pension is 11,000 rubles [£93] a month and every week prices rise. How to live?”
While it remains to be seen whether mass protests will go ahead in Russia, Ukrainians organised a rally outside the Russian Embassy in London yesterday, gathering hundreds of supporters of different nationalities chanting “Putin, hands off Ukraine”. A lone person stood nearby with a poster: “We support Donetsk and Lugansk”.
Lily grew up in the Luhansk region before moving to Moscow as a teenager. She now lives in London. The area where she went to school had been under fire for the last eight years. Like many Russians in London, she tries not to think about it. She has been avoiding difficult conversations with her family in Russia and Ukraine for a long time. Her situation is incredibly common. Many Russians have family in Ukraine. The conflict, which began in 2014, had ripped many families apart but most people find it difficult to talk about.
It seems impossible to stay silent now. My Russian Facebook feed is full of messages expressing pain, horror and shame. Like every Russian of my generation, I have been brought up on the horror stories of the Second World War. I never imagined waking up to the news of Russia invading its neighbour. Russian expatriates are organising protests in London, Prague, Paris and other cities.
We stand with Ukraine and hope that world leaders stop the Kremlin.
