KYIV, Ukraine — Ukraine’s Memory Wall of the Fallen Defenders stretches down a city block. It is covered with rows of portraits of the 15,000 young volunteers and bearded veterans who died fighting the Russians over the past eight years.
Most Americans don’t realize that Moscow’s current threat of war against Ukraine — which is surrounded by more than 100,000 Russian troops — is a continuation of the battle that began in 2014, when Russian forces invaded the Ukrainian territory of Crimea.
Until now, the war has continued mostly in eastern Ukraine (which borders Russia), where Moscow organized and armed a proxy force in 2014 that still occupies much of the Donbas region. Many of the faces on the memory wall fell on that front long before Vladimir Putin began threatening Kyiv.
Ukrainians have become inured to Russia’s bombast. I’ve repeatedly heard Kyivans compare themselves to Israelis who, they say, have gotten used to the constant threat of rockets from Gaza and to the ever-present possibility of war.
Maybe this is why, despite the hype in Western media about Russian tanks about to roll into Kyiv, the Ukrainian capital is outwardly normal and calm.
Since my arrival in Kyiv, home to 3 million people and rich in history and greenery, there has been no run on grocery stores, no shortage of toilet paper and no air raid drills. Shoppers are browsing the well-stocked stores in the modern underground Globus Mall, restaurants are busy, and the many beautiful parks are full.
Several Ukrainians I spoke to said that they’ve seen online ads advising people to prepare emergency packs with batteries and flashlights and canned food, but few people had actually done so. On Sunday, the exquisite, gold-domed St. Michael’s Cathedral held a special service to pray for peace, but the pews were not crowded.
“Everyone is frightened abroad, but here we are calm,” I was told by one worshipper, Eleanora Borovska, a businesswoman visiting from Dnipro, which is much closer to the Russian border than Kyiv. “We are ready for anything. We don’t have any choice.” Our people are calm, which means our internal peace is an instrument against war.Hieromonk Mykhailo Karnaukh, a priest
“Our people are calm, which means our internal peace is an instrument against war,” I was told by Hieromonk Mykhailo Karnaukh, a priest I met outside the cathedral. But that doesn’t mean he and his fellow clerics are passive. During the Euromaidan uprising of 2014, in which huge crowds of pro-democracy demonstrators forced out a pro-Russian Ukrainian president who was doing Putin’s bidding, priests from this church and the nearby monastery gave shelter to wounded demonstrators. Karnaukh says they are willing to give succor again if war should come to Kyiv.
So the mood in Kyiv, while not panicky, is not self-delusional. While Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy memorably chided President Joe Biden for overhyping the war threat, Ukrainians tell me they approve of his tough talk — although Biden’s slip-of-the-tongue hinting that the West would not respond if a Putin invasion was minor caused a furor here. But Ukrainians want to see Biden’s rhetoric matched by a more proactive policy that sends Ukraine more weapons before a Russian attack. They also assume Biden’s war talk is aimed at increasing U.S. and NATO support for defensively arming Ukraine.
However, it is important for Americans to recognize that surface complacency here doesn’t mean that Ukrainians are waiting for the West to save them.
Most folks I’ve talked to — from members of parliament to former senior officials to journalists and businessmen — doubt that Putin would send troops into Kyiv. But Ukrainians stress that their army is far tougher and more ready than the bedraggled forces that faced the Russians when Putin pulled his surprise invasion in 2014. And across the country, civilians are volunteering to join the Territorial Defense Forces that will be called up if fighting begins.
I talked with Serhiy Vikarchuk, a native of Crimea who fled to Kyiv with his family after the Russian invasion eight years ago. He joined the Ukrainian military and fought on the Donbas front lines, and now trains weekly in a territorial defense unit. Photos of two of his comrades are on the memory wall, and he touches them whenever he passes.
“I don’t think the Russians will come to Kyiv,” he told me, his voice rising, his anger palpable. “In Crimea, we were all afraid. Now we know we have lots of people who know how to use weapons. I am not afraid to fight.”
