Stories and ideas

The full-scale invasion of Ukraine has changed the lives of all the country’s inhabitants. For a writer, such an event may well inspire a renewed sense of purpose. While the realities of war bring new duties, they make the power of words all the more clear.

Before the beginning of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, the military purchased 45,000 body bags. Given Moscow’s belief in a short victorious war, the question must be asked: for whom were these body bags originally intended?

For visitors to western Poland, the region may at first glance appear just as Polish as any other in the country. However, beyond this facade lies a strange story of alienation felt by those who call these lands their home.

The economic and political situation in Moldova, the small country to Ukraine’s southwest, remains tenable at best. While the country’s President Maia Sandu has shown resolve and used the situation to pursue the European path, not all Moldovans support her politics – especially those directly affected by the economic and energy crisis.

On a bright Sunday afternoon this past October, protesters marched, not for the first time, down the main boulevard in Moldova’s capital city, Chișinău. Others milled around on the pavement, holding up picket signs and joining in as the marchers shouted slogans like “Resign!” and “Down with Maia Sandu!”, referring to Moldova’s president. Another sign pleaded for help, in a tone that could be taken as ironic or else completely sincere: “God save us from the idiots of the PAS,” it read. PAS is the acronym of the Party of Action and Solidarity, Moldova’s ruling party.

The human cost of an armed conflict produces the most damaging and long-lasting societal consequences. Unlike residential buildings or infrastructure, which can be rebuilt through various forms of financial aid, human suffering cannot be remedied by financial assistance alone. Any discussion of a Marshall Plan for Ukraine needs to have a strong element of reparations for all those victims harmed during this past year.

A Marshall Plan for Ukraine is a recurring idea that is regularly featured in policy discussions both within Ukraine and abroad among policymakers, the media and academic circles. In many ways, this is a unique example of preparations to rebuild a war-torn country as that very war still rages on. Planning for reconstruction early is certainly the correct approach and the best evidence of a collective faith in Ukraine’s prospects to win the war.

Today’s Georgia is a country of contradictions. While most of the population has come out in support of Ukraine, the country has experienced a great amount of migration from Russia since the war. This, combined with a government uncertain of its foreign policy, has made Georgia’s future all the more unclear.

Russian migrants have arrived in Georgia in two waves. The first wave took place in March 2022 right after Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine. The second wave took place in late September 2022, after Vladimir Putin announced “partial” mobilisation. They waited in long lines, often for hours, at the Larsi checkpoint. According to various data, there are between 70,000 to 200,000 Russians living in Georgia right now, some estimate that this figure is even higher.

One third of the Ukrainian population is displaced – over eight million abroad and at least five and a half million internally, constituting the biggest forced displacement in Europe since the Second World War. Curiously, around one third of those who had fled after February 24th 2022 have already returned, with the International Organisation for Migration putting the number as high as six million. Yet, they returned, against all odds.

The full-scale war in Ukraine and the refugee influx that followed sent shockwaves throughout Europe. However, a large number of refugees coming back also caught many by surprise. They returned despite the war still raging throughout the country, and despite receiving an unprecedentedly warm welcome. Myself also being puzzled, I looked for answers and found a couple of think tank papers. The analysts meticulously present statistics and draw maps and graphs. There are survey data responses and discussions on the size of welfare payments, the distribution of housing and other resources for the refugees. Still, I am not convinced. When examining the statistics of millions, a person inevitably gets lost. Hence, I set out to look at the individual behind the digits.  

Remembering Pete Reed, a paramedic from the United States, who died while attempting to reach civilians in need of help under heavy Russian artillery fire in Bakhmut.

Germany’s decision to pursue the European Union’s plans to stop importing crude oil from Russia has stirred up social tension in the East German town of Schwedt. Despite reassurances from the government in Berlin, the town, which hosts Germany’s largest oil refinery dependent on Russian oil, is fearful of the aftereffects of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine.

From her office on the outskirts of the quiet town of Schwedt in Brandenburg, a German town bordering Poland that stretches for miles, Gabriele Manteufel points to a huge, sprawling maze of pipes, furnaces and tankers. It all comes together to make a gigantic refinery. Every day the CEO’s sons come by to fill up the family-owned tankers with propane, a by-product of refined oil. They then dispatch the gas to their customers in this north-eastern region.

Poetry may not have the power to stop Russian missile strikes but Ukraine’s literary festival season, which carried on in spite of the horrors of war, became a testament to the importance of defending culture during the invasion. After all, the Russians have been very clear that they do not recognise the Ukrainian identity.

In Chernivtsi, a small Western Ukrainian city located on the border with Romania, September begins with poetry. Artists from throughout Ukraine and all over the world have been gathering there for the past 13 years during the annual Meridian Czernowitz Festival. Due to the Russian invasion of Ukraine, this year’s festival was different, and, in the words of Meridian’s chief editor Evgenia Lopata, “a small miracle”.

One of the ways to save the Belarusian language is to maintain courage in preserving and displaying the Belarusian identity. This includes pride in Belarusian history and language, which should be used especially in everyday life. Since it is nearly impossible to do this inside the country, perhaps the best place to start is within the Belarusian diaspora.

The consistent and managed destruction of the Belarusian language and culture has become one of the hallmarks of Alyaksandr Lukashenka's rule and a distinctive feature of his regime’s activities since 1996 (together with the increase in Russian influence). As a result, in today’s Belarus, people who use the Belarusian language in their everyday life are discriminated against, while representatives of the Belarusian culture are persecuted. Belarusian citizens can be arrested for displaying their Belarusian identity in the streets of Minsk even when they speak Belarusian while offering guided tours, or wear socks with white-red-white stripes.