Essays How Are We Going to Remember? Envisioning Postwar Memory and Commemoration in Ukraine
This essay explores the intersection of personal reflection and Ukraine’s collective journey towards reconciliation amid the ongoing war with Russia. Set against the peaceful backdrop of a CBEES Summer School, the author delves into the challenges of memory construction, highlighting Ukraine’s historical complexities and the importance of inclusive memorialization in shaping a unified postwar identity. The essay draws comparisons with Eastern Europe’s post-communist memory work, emphasizing reconciliation and social cohesion.
Published on balticworlds.com on October 2, 2024
Abstract:
This essay explores the intersection of personal reflection and Ukraine’s collective journey towards reconciliation amid the ongoing war with Russia. Set against the peaceful backdrop of a CBEES Summer School, the author delves into the challenges of memory construction, highlighting Ukraine’s historical complexities and the importance of inclusive memorialization in shaping a unified postwar identity. The essay draws comparisons with Eastern Europe’s post-communist memory work, emphasizing reconciliation and social cohesion.Keywords: memory construction, reconciliation, postwar Ukraine, national identity.
As I spend my time at the summer school, surrounded by the cosy and safe environment of the villa named “Refugium”, I feel a deep sense of peace – a peace in the middle of change, in the middle of the hassle. The name of the place I can call home for six nights, meaning “refuge” or “shelter,” seems more than just a coincidence – it feels like a touch of fate because I don’t believe in random chance. With its monastery-like charm, the place truly serves as a haven for everyone who comes here, no matter where they come from. It feels in the halls, echoes in the corridors, and I hear it in the discussions. All quiet – this is the essence of peace.
The place is enchanting: old apple trees, mossy forest stones, and Viking-age graves create a calm and magical atmosphere in the oldest city in Sweden – Sigtuna. The tranquillity of my shelter whispers right in my ears, “You come, and you make memories here”, while what I have on my “research plate”, what I am truly dealing with, is the years of forgetting and years of silencing and alienation – a difficult combination.
It’s hard to make new memories when the old ones are not in place, and when the old ones look more like a shredded piece of paper mixed in a trash bin. I know I am not alone in this; six million people of Donbas share these displaced, forgotten, and ignored memories – memories the size of Denmark or Bulgaria – you choose. At night, I think of my hometown in the East, occupied for a long time already. I think of my country – Ukraine.
I am confronted with our complex historical and cultural legacy; I am confronted with the cold shower-like past and future of my beloved Donbas. The region, once a sprawling Wild Field, was always a mosaic of diverse ethnic groups and cultures serving as a buffer zone between Western and Eastern civilizations. This truly mesmerizing place holds many dark secrets as it was always a difficult child of Ukraine. The region’s historical identity, shaped by centuries of Russian colonial domination[1] and internal struggles, presents a significant challenge for our common future in Ukraine. The legacy of Donbas’ turbulent past – marked by colonization, russification, and industrial exploitation – has left a deeply fragmented self, a deeply suppressed and selective memory where every little piece needs to be first found, then cleaned, and finally polished before putting it in its place.
But I am still in my lovely refuge, where the runic stones are scattered all around the place, memorializing lost loved ones and cherished memories that stay alive long after everyone who could remember this person dies. This serves as a powerful symbol of what will be needed once the war in Ukraine ends. The question lingers: who will erect these memorials and for whom? While the answer remains unclear, the hope for the future persists.
As Ukraine continues to grapple with the ongoing war with Russia, the challenge of processing and memorializing the decades of trauma looms large. The task ahead for Ukraine day by day becomes more and more clear: we need to actively reconcile our common yet estranged and fractured past to find and step into the era of a renewed cohesive national identity. As the discourse of reconciliation and memory plays a crucial role in societies transitioning from conflict.[2] Ukraine must engage with its past critically and inclusively to forge a unified future.
There is also a need to work with the people and open their eyes to snatch Donbas (and not only Donbas but also Crimea) from the clutches of Russian propaganda and its longing for imaginary Soviet-era stability. It is important to cease the vicious circle of the region’s history full of imperial domination, proletarian heroes, and endless rows of spoil tips, which serve as a powerful haunting reminder of what Donbas used to be for the Russian Empire and its “red avatar” – the Soviet Union. All these should be done to ensure the future of Donbas and ensure lasting peace in this borderland.
However, there is an even more important thing that will be fuelling division or glueing the nation in the years following the war: how we are going to remember our common past and the ongoing war?
Despite being a very complicated case, Ukraine is not the only country in history that faces the need to reconcile repressed memories and construct a new national identity. This uneasy task is reminiscent of the struggles faced by other post-communist Eastern European nations such as Poland, the Baltic States, and Romania, which have dealt with or continue to work on similar challenges over the last decades. This essay will explore how Ukraine might handle its postwar memories and integrate them into a new unified identity, drawing insights from both historical and contemporary contexts.
The memory construction issues
Postwar memory is not only a matter of personal or family recollection but a critical component of national identity formation. In post-communist Eastern Europe, the process of memory construction has been particularly challenging due to the repressive regimes that dominated the region for much of the 20th century. These regimes often manipulated historical narratives, erasing or distorting memories to serve their own purposes.[3] As a result, many of the nations in this region have had to engage in a complex process of uncovering and reclaiming suppressed memories as part of their post-communist identity formation.[4]
The boom of rethinking the past, healing historical wounds, and redefining collective memory has swept across Eastern Europe, extending to Ukraine as well. Unfortunately, this did not happen to the extent that Ukraine, with its tumultuous history, truly required. Of course, destructive events like the Holodomor [5] or the deportation of Crimean Tatars [6] were recognized as genocide along with many other Stalinist regime atrocities, but still, Ukraine was delaying these processes for a long time or taking them not consistently enough, perhaps until very recent times. Such politics resulted in current challenges when dealing with the nation’s memory and the holes in it.
Most Eastern European countries share common traits in how they deal with their past, particularly in terms of the “asymmetry of memory”, where certain narratives are elevated while others are marginalized or forgotten.[7] This asymmetry is evident in the way post-communist societies have remembered the Second World War and the communist era, with a focus on victimhood and suffering as central components of national identity.
In Ukraine, before 2014, the attempt to build a unified identity on a foundation of past suffering – often influenced by Russian involvement – played against the nation and was used by pro-Russian forces to divide society. During the presidency of Viktor Yushchenko,[8] the memory of Bandera and the Ukrainian Insurgent Army in the West of the country suddenly rose from obscurity and was placed alongside the figures of Soviet heroes and Soviet monuments that were especially honored in the East of Ukraine. The desacralization of the Second World War was unthinkable for many Ukrainians, especially those who had lived under the Soviet regime or studied during the early years of regained independence, as they still primarily viewed it as the Great Patriotic War. The sudden shift in perspective came as a shocking event to them.[9] “The new memory” didn’t appear gradually – it emerged suddenly; taking the public by surprise, as many were unprepared to confront the truth, even though the subsequent events revealed that this new memory was crucial for the nation-building process.
The shift in the national narrative aimed to foster national pride and resilience, but before 2014, it also reinforced a sense of hostility and victimhood. This, in turn, made it difficult to find common ground in a country with such a complex and turbulent history as Ukraine.[10]
The re-discovery of the national past and memory was far from finished when the Russo-Ukrainian war began; however, it has become a true game-changer for Ukrainians in the way perceive their legacy. In 2015, the Decommunization Law was adopted all over Ukraine except temporarily occupied territories,[11] and the attitude began to shift towards understanding the price paid for “the glorious victory” of the Soviet Union over Nazi Germany. However, it was all done through the prism of victimhood and loss in connection to the Russian annexation of Crimea and the hybrid invasion of Donbas.
Reconciliation and the role of memory in post-Russo-Ukrainian war nation-building
It is obvious already now, that the process of memory construction and reconciliation in postwar Ukraine will be a complex and challenging task. The process of reconciliation in postwar societies often involves the creation of a shared narrative that can bridge the gaps between different groups.[12] In Eastern Europe, in many cases, this has meant confronting painful memories of the past and finding ways to incorporate them into a national identity that acknowledges both the suffering and the resilience of the people as the source of unity.[13] The “memory work” is crucial as it emphasizes actively engaging with the past to uncover suppressed memories and bring them into the public consciousness. This memory work is essential for building a national identity that is both inclusive and reflective of the population’s diverse experiences.[14] However, Ukraine with its unique background and the ongoing war with Russia will require a tailored approach that considers the diverse experiences and contradicting identities of the citizens.
The wars leave indelible marks on national consciousness, shaping collective memory and identity. In Ukraine, the ongoing existential war with Russia has already created a complex web of memories, encompassing both individual and collective experiences of loss, displacement, heroism, and survival. When the war finally ends, the memory work will need to address and somehow incorporate the complex and often contradictory narratives that existed and were ignored within the country for years. The Donbas region is only one example of the challenges of Ukrainian statehood, as the Russian domination was artificially prolonged by the pro-Russian “Party of the Regions” and various Russian organizations which have created a distinct and fragmented identity often contradicting the national narrative.
The process of memory construction in postconflict societies involves a complicated interplay between remembering and forgetting and is often shaped by contemporary political agendas and power dynamics in the country.[15] In Eastern Europe, these narratives often focused on the atrocities committed during the Stalinist era and World War II, with an emphasis on the suffering endured by the nation at the hands of foreign occupiers.[16] However, the process of memory construction in postconflict societies is rarely straightforward due to the violent and turbulent past of the region.[17]
In Ukraine, the postwar narrative might mirror the patterns seen in Eastern Europe, emphasizing the atrocities committed by Russian forces and the resilience of the Ukrainian people. While this perspective remains relevant, there is also an increasing call to move beyond merely emphasizing victimhood in the ongoing war and to embrace a more proactive approach to understanding Ukraine’s role in the war. More and more Ukrainians prefer to see themselves, as a nation which fights against all odds, even if there’s sometimes too little hope.[18] This attitude helps not only to sustain the spirit of people to withstand Russian aggression but also might be a useful tool for the nation’s postwar recovery.
Envisioning of the memory and identity in postwar Ukraine
Nevertheless, the construction of a postwar national identity in Ukraine will mainly be shaped not by the geopolitical context that will be present at that moment, and most likely by the high demand to process and memorialize the trauma of the enduring Russo-Ukrainian war. This process will involve not only the commemoration of those who lost their lives fighting for the freedom of Ukraine, but also include the recognition of the broader societal impact of the war. The experience of post-communist Eastern European countries suggests that this process can be fraught with challenges, particularly when it comes to balancing different aspects of the national narrative.[19]
Therefore, a key area of focus for the Ukrainian government and the country as a whole will be addressing the tension between collective memory and individual experiences. The postwar memories of the Donbas residents, especially those who stayed under occupation could be for many reasons drastically different and may include the feeling of abandonment, disregard and fear. This was already visible long before the full-scale invasion as the experience of displaced people from Donbas, running from Russian hybrid forces varied significantly depending on their age, education and inclusion into Ukrainian intrastate discourse.[20]
The goal of the postwar Ukrainian government should be to acknowledge individual experiences that diverge from the official narrative, rather than suppress them, while still working to establish a cohesive overarching story. In postwar Ukraine, the risk of certain memories being marginalized or overlooked in favor of a more cohesive national narrative needs to be minimized, otherwise, it would lead to the cycle of oppression, and silenced memory, and history will repeat itself. The experiences of ethnic minorities, displaced persons, and those who collaborated with the occupying forces may be overlooked or minimized, rather than critically examined in favor of the broader narrative of Ukrainian resistance and resilience.
However, small steps are being taken to acknowledge the inhomogeneity of memories in postwar Ukraine. For instance, the broader Ukrainian public is now discussing collaboration not only in occupied territories but also in government-controlled areas. This dialogue occurs alongside recognition of the bravery of non-violent resistance movements that supported the Ukrainian Armed Forces (UAF) and the Security Service of Ukraine, even while under occupation. Another positive example could be the public recognition of the discrimination of displaced people from Donbas and Crimea faced in the period between 2014-2022, which was largely ignored before the Russian full-scale invasion.[21] The suspicious and often negative attitude made many people from the occupied territories return to their homes in occupation and develop a strong resentment towards fellow Ukrainians and the Ukrainian government.[22] Recent recognition of the problem and lessons learned from previous years[23] to some extent facilitated the trust and evacuation from the war-torn cities and towns in the East of Ukraine at the onset of the full-scale Russian invasion.
The role of memorials and burial sites as the places of nation’s inclusion and unification
Memorials play a crucial role in shaping collective memory and identity; therefore, they will be highly significant for the after-war Ukraine. Creating memorials and museums dedicated to the ongoing war with Russia will be crucial to the postwar memory project. This effort is not only driven by a strong demand for commemoration, but it will also serve as a powerful reminder of the immense price Ukraine paid in its struggle to define its own purpose and existence.
The Ukrainian government is struggling to find a suitable location for a national war memorial graveyard, as well as to communicate its plans effectively with the families of fallen soldiers.[24] This delay has caused growing frustration and added to the emotional burden on families who are seeking a dedicated memorial site to honour their loved ones who died defending Ukraine. Understandably, there is disturbance and negative reaction to such a delay, given that the memories are still fresh and painful. However, the risk of establishing memorial sites before the war ends is significant, as it may result in efforts to control the narrative of remembrance.
A memorial cemetery could offer a space for collective mourning and commemoration of war victims. However, this form of remembrance could also reinforce selective memories, deepen divisions, and contribute to shaping a national narrative centred around trauma.[25]
Even though this delay is undoubtedly difficult for the families of Ukrainian Armed Forces soldiers, it can be seen as a prudent decision, driven by the need to first bring the war to an end. This will provide the opportunity to create a unified memorial site that would honor not only the bravery and sacrifice of the Ukrainian Armed Forces but also all Ukrainians who lost their lives in the war, as well as potentially accommodate those Ukrainians who fought on the side of Russia. A common burial ground would serve as a powerful reminder for the nation and help foster a balanced national narrative that addresses the long-standing political divisions in the country. It could also represent a step toward de-marginalizing the families of soldiers from the long-term occupied territories of Donbas, who were dragged into the war under Russian pressure or, regrettably, chose to fight on the wrong side. In this context, the German War Cemetery at La Cambe in France, which honors both German and Allied soldiers who died during World War II, serves as a valuable example of how to address the commemoration and memorialization of the victims of the Russo-Ukrainian war.
To ensure a prosperous and unified future, Ukraine will need a more inclusive approach to commemoration – one that allows for a diversity of perspectives to promote reconciliation, social cohesion, and dialogue among all parts of the Ukrainian society affected by the war. The memorial spaces will need to serve not only as places of mourning but also as sites of reflection, where the complexities of the war can be acknowledged and understood.
Memory as a tool for the future
I am back now to the peaceful haven of “Refugium”, the contrast between this sanctuary and the turbulent journey that lies ahead for Ukraine becomes strikingly clear. The ancient stones and echoes of the past, serve as a reminder of the importance of memory – both in personal reflections and in the broader context of national identity. Just as these old stones commemorate those long gone, Ukraine will face the monumental task of deciding how to remember and honor the countless lives forever changed or lost in the ongoing war with Russia.
As Ukraine looks to the future, the memory of the war will play a crucial role in shaping the nation’s identity. It is already clear, that the journey to a nationwide or some sort of common memory in postwar Ukraine will be a will be a complex and challenging process, a delicate balance between remembering and forgetting, inclusion and exclusion. The need to construct a shared narrative that acknowledges the diverse experiences of all Ukrainians – whether they fought, fled, or found themselves caught in the crossfire – their memories will be essential in fostering national unity and healing.
The experience of post-communist Eastern Europe offers valuable lessons, highlighting the dangers of selective memory and the importance of inclusive memory projects that promote reconciliation and social cohesion. The country’s path to healing will depend on its ability to craft a narrative that is both inclusive and honest, one that acknowledges the pain of the past while building a hopeful future.
In these quiet moments of lonely reflection at “Refugium”, it becomes clear that Ukraine’s true refuge lies in the strength of its people to remember, reconcile, and rebuild a stronger country – together.
References:
[1] Adrian Feinburg, Anna Harvey, Lev Pushel, Thomas Sternfels, “Forbidden Kingdom: Russian Neo-Colonialism in Donbas (2014–2022)”. 2024. FSI Conference Memos. Standford. https://fsi.stanford.edu/publication/forbidden-kingdom-russian-neo-colonialism-donbas-2014-2022 (Accessed September 24, 2024), 28.
[2] Johanna Mannergren-Selimovic, “The Politics of Reconciliation and Memory,” in Handbook on the Politics of Memory, ed. Maria Mälksoo (Northampton: Edward Elgar, 2023): 191-202, (191).
[3] Florence Fröhlig, “Victimhood and Building Identities on Past Suffering”, in CBEES State of the Region Report 2020 (2020): 23-28 (23).
[4] Barbara Törnquist-Plewa, “Eastern and Central Europe as a Region of Memory: Some Common Traits,” in CBEES State of the Region Report 2020 (2020): 15-22 (18).
[5] Verkhovna Rada of Ukraine (Verkhovna Rada Ukraini). 2006. Pro Holodomor 1932–1933 rokiv v Ukrayini [About the Holodomor of 1932–1933 in Ukraine], https://zakon.rada.gov.ua/laws/show/376-16#Text (Accessed September 30, 2024).
[6] Verkhovna Rada of Ukraine (Verkhovna Rada Ukraini). 2015. Pro vyznannya henotsydu kryms’kotars’koho narodu [About The Recognition of The Genocide of The Crimean Tatar People], https://shorturl.at/HW0mF (Accessed September 30, 2024).
[7] Törnquist-Plewa 2020, 10.
[8] Per Anders Rudling. Tarnished Heroes: The Organization of Ukrainian Nationalists in the Memory Politics of Post-Soviet Ukraine. 2024. (Soviet and Post-Soviet Politics and Society; Vol. 207). Ibidem-Verlag.
[9] Yuryi, Shapoval. Roman Shukhevych i polityka pam’yati v suchasniy Ukrayini [Roman Shukhevich and the policy of memory in modern Ukraine], Dzerkalo tyzhnya. June 22, 2007. https://zn.ua/ukr/SOCIUM/roman_shuhevich_i_politika_pamyati_v_suchasniy_ukrayini.html (Accessed September 17, 2024).
[10] Fröhlig 2020, 22-24.
[11] Verkhovna Rada of Ukraine (Verkhovna Rada Ukraini). 2015. Pro zasudzheniya komunistychnoho ta natsional-sotsialistychnoho (natsysts’koho) totalitarnykh rezhymiv v Ukrayini ta zaboronu prahanhany yikhnʹoyi symvoliky [About the condemnation of the communist and national socialist (Nazi) totalitarian regimes in Ukraine and the protection of the pursuit of their symbols], https://zakon.rada.gov.ua/laws/show/317-19#Text (Accessed September 26, 2024).
[12] Mannergren-Selimovic 2023, 192.
[13] Fröhlig 2020, 23-24.
[14] Törnquist-Plewa 2020, 19.
[15] Barbara Törnquist-Plewa, “Populism in Memory Discourses in Contemporary Central, Eastern and Southeastern Europe,” Lecture at CBEES Summer School 2024 (2024).
[16] Fröhlig 2020, 27.
[17] Törnquist-Plewa 2020, 17.
[18] Paul Goble. Ukrainians now see themselves as victors not just victims, Podolsky and Bekirova say. Euromaidan Press. November 10, 2017. https://euromaidanpress.com/2017/11/10/ukrainians-now-see-themselves-as-victors-not-just-victims-podolsky-and-bekirova-say-euromaidan-press/ (Accessed September 27, 2024).
[19] Fröhlig 2020, 25.
[20] Eva Ievgeniia Babenko, “Home, Identity, and Belonging: How People from Donbas Make Sense of War and Migration Experiences,” (Paper presented at MESEA Conference, Joensuu, June 12, 2024).
[21] Larysa Denysenko, Yak zhinky–vnutrishn’operemishcheni osoby dolayut’ dyskryminatsiyu [How Internally Displaced Women Overcome Discrimination], Hromadske Radio, July 7, 2018, https://hromadske.radio/podcasts/gen-spravedlyvosti/yak-zhinky-vnutrishno-peremishcheni-osoby-dolayut-dyskryminaciyu (Accessed October 1, 2024).
[22] Oleksandra Tarkhanova, “The Politics of (Im)mobility: The Effects of the Pandemic on Movement Across the ‘Contact Line’ in Eastern Ukraine,” Europe-Asia Studies (2023): 1-25 (5-6). Available at: https://doi.org/10.1080/09668136.2023.2281239
[23] Kyiv International Institute of Sociology (KIIS). 2024. Nationwide Telephone Survey: Ensuring Equal Rights and Opportunities for Women and Men in Ukrainian Society, February 27 – March 15, 2024. https://kiis.com.ua/materials/pr/20240913_g/Gender%20survey%202024%20ENG%20-%20for%20NDI%20portal.pdf. (Accessed October 1, 2024).
[24] Ukrainska Pravda. Project of Ukraine’s National Military Memorial Cemetery passes state review. June 30, 2024. https://www.pravda.com.ua/eng/news/2024/06/30/7463322/ (Accessed September 26, 2024).
[25] Mannergren-Selimovic 2023, 194-195.