What is independence, and why does it matter?

Memory and nostalgia are topics which attract much attention of social scientists. You can fill up whole rooms and sections of libraries with books, discussing these issues. For instance, the researcher of the US-American culture Michael Kammen wrote that nostalgia, a selective and often falsified image of the past, increases most often «in periods of cultural anxiety, or when a society feels a strong sense of discontinuity with its past.» This is, for instance, how the rituals of the «traditional» Christmas were invented in European countries which were undergoing industrialization. 

But there is a related phenomenon that appears to gather less attention from the researchers. Nonetheless, the phenomenon is well captured by sayings from multiple European languages, which demonstrates its cross-cultural nature. In Ukrainian — «тоді йому ціну знаєш, як його втрачаєш» («A good when lost is valued most»). A similar Scottish proverb: «We’ll never know the worth of water ’till the well go dry.»

The value of real people and things, not imagined traditions, tends to inflate after you lose them. Of course, under this scenario, nostalgia-like idealization plays in as well. But there is a tangible difference between having and not having home or having and not having your loved ones by your side.

The same holds also for independence. On the 24th of August 2023, Ukraine celebrates the 32nd anniversary of the restoration of its independence. But that is not the only anniversary which marks this day. Nine and a half years ago, the Russian Qırım-based naval infantry units started to block Aqyar (Sevastopol), while Kyiv was still recovering from the police killings of the revolutionary activists. 18 months ago, the Russian army invaded, drawing closer and closer to the capital. All of these events did not have a predetermined course. Ukrainian independence was on the brink. It did not fall because people were ready to live and die for it. Ordinary people: an engineer, a storekeeper, a blue-collar worker, a 20-year-old conscript.

And yet, independence is a rather abstract concept. Each and every Ukrainian defending our homeland conceptualizes it differently. For some, it is a specific political project, infused with specific political objectives. For others, an urge to defend the home and the family. For yet others, a need to live up to their own expectations, a desire to remain true to yourself.

Despite these differences, there is something common to all the cases. A human being generally, and in Ukraine as well, wants to lead a decent life in a sense of being able to fulfill themselves in their own ways. And there is an easy test that demonstrates how this is impossible under the Russian occupation. 

February 24, 2022 is a date not too distant not to be able to recollect the life before it. Life on what is now both parts of the frontline was not that different. Socio-economic conditions outside the big cities were largely similar throughout the country. For instance, residents of both the Kharkiv region (north-east, bordering Russia) and the Chernivtsi region (south-west, bordering Romania) believed that the war in the east and corruption are the top two problems of the country, while high water and energy bills as well as low salaries are the top problems for an individual. 

Despite the differences in conditions of historical development among the Ukrainian regions, there were many things we agreed upon. Therefore, it is reasonable to apply «most similar» case study design while looking at these regions. This method, as social scientist Perri Six writes, «involves choosing a few, carefully selected cases, on the basis that the independent variables are similar in most respects, but differ in a way, or in a very few ways, that are important to the theory.» 

So yes, there is an important distinction between, say, Chernivtsi or Volyn and Kharkiv or Kherson — the Russian occupation. 

The Ukrainian ombudsman Dmytro Lubinets estimates the Russians have kidnapped around 25 thousand Ukrainians. This number only includes civilians, most of whom resided precisely in the occupied parts of the country. Imagine a whole of a small town going missing, sometimes without a trace, sometimes only to come back with a health so deteriorated that they would never be able to return to their previous «normal» life. 

You may question why these 25 thousand people were kidnapped. Had they opposed the occupying regime? Some did, and did so with much courage and self-sacrifice. However, many others simply lived in a way not consistent with the Russian totalitarian worldview. 

Take, for instance, Jehovah Witnesses, who by no means endanger the Russian temporary occupation of Qırım, but still face persecution there. The persecution may take different forms, from electrocuting up to repeated rape. 

But Russian occupation does not only steal lives. It also destroys livelihoods. It became all too evident in June 2023. Rescue efforts were underway once the water from the destroyed Kakhovka Reservoir came splashing down the Dnipro river. The Ukrainian armed forces, policemen, emergency services, and volunteers raced to rescue residents and hundreds of domestic animals from the right bank. 

The left bank — under occupation — fell into deadly silence. The silence was only broken by pleas for help coming from the rooftops, which served as temporary sanctuaries to residents of flooded regions. The Ukrainian military used drones to drop off water and supplies to the people on the roofs, while the Russian sealed off the region to prevent evacuations. 

The Ukrainian government has already devoted $1.4 millions to help people rebuild the flooded homes — compensating for something it did not cause. Russia, a state with an economy 15 times bigger than the Ukrainian, claims to have spent $1.8 million on compensation. This juxtaposition speaks volumes about the degree to which Russia does not care about people on the temporary occupied territories.

We are not saying that Ukraine is a human rights Disneyland. Corruption remains a major obstacle for people to feel dignified by their homeland. The wounded soldiers encounter a red-taped, stubborn, and often disrespectful system that prevents demobilization. 

But work on all these problems can only be performed as long as we enjoy the independence.

All too often, people come to understand the value of something when no longer possessing it. Ukrainian society must never run this experiment lest it wants to lose more of its people. But how shall the value be appreciated then? 

The Ukrainian leadership does not disclose the number of the killed in action. This policy has its pros and cons. All the same, roughly 80% of the Ukrainians know someone who was wounded or killed during the Russian full-scale invasion. But perhaps you are among the lucky 20% or a foreigner visiting Ukraine. Come to the nearest cemetery, walk through the alleys with the Ukrainian flags. 

Lives, confined to compact name-plates. Whole biographies summed up in a few words and numbers. Photos burned out by the sun. Perhaps there is a small touch of personality there? A boxing glove, a favorite baseball cap, an assault rifle magazine? A whole universe of a human reduced to a few square meters. 

In the coming years, the heavy price paid for independence will only weigh heavier on us. The Independence Day will not be what it used to be — military parades, music concerts, long nights out.

The leading Ukrainian military analyst Mykola Bielieskov stated recenty that his Western counterparts do not really have an idea of how the war will look like in 2024. He also noted the attempts by the Ukrainian allies to promote Ukrainian-Russian negotiations via a stray of named and unnamed «high-ranking officials.»