The Russian Invasion of Ukraine
The past several nights were probably some of the most unsettling evenings I had in recent memory. Yes, they were even more upsetting than the 2016 election night when Donald Trump was elected president. Just before midnight here in New York, Russian President Vladamir Putin announced special military operations inside Ukraine. In reality, the so-called “operation” is a de-facto invasion of a neighboring democratic sovereign country. The invasion ended relative peace and stability on the European continent since the end of World War II. Unlike the Russian incursion into Georgia in 2008 and the annexation of Crimea in 2014, this ongoing invasion aims to topple the national government and seize the entire territory. In this age of social media, the carnage of modern warfare felt especially close to most of us.
My Love Letter To Russia
People sometimes ask me what is the most interesting country I have visited. My answer has always been Russia. I must admit that I have always had a personal affinity for Russia and the Russian people. In 2012, I spent a semester as an exchange student at the Moscow Architectural Institute (МАрхИ), and it was, without any question, the most fascinating life experience I have ever had. From grand architecture to cosmopolitan cultural life, Moscow was undoubtedly one of Europe's most underrated global cities. For the longest time, I have advocated for traveling to Russia. The inner contrarian within me believed Russia is commonly misunderstood in America. For many years, I heard friends talking about boycotting Russia because of its controversial gay propaganda law. But they would then proceed to take luxury vacations in Dubai or the Maldives, all the places where homosexuality is banned and punishable in jail.
Cathedral of Christ the Saviour in Moscow.
I always have to clarify that my love of Russia (as a travel destination) is entirely separated from my personal opinions of the Russian government. My admiration of Russia stems from the resilience of the Russian people under the autocratic rule of Vladimir Putin. We in the West like to think that the state propaganda brainwashed all Russians, but that could not be further from the truth. I am a first-hand witness to the massive political protest against the fraudulent 2011 legislative election. By pure coincidence, I was actually “arrested” by Russian security when I accidentally walked into a mass protest in front of Lubyanka, the headquarters of the Federal Security Bureau. The brutality and ruthlessness of the security forces were no joke even back then.
Hanging out with Russian friends.
TASS News Agency, the primary propaganda news agency in Russia.
Particularly in cosmopolitan places like Moscow, Putin is not particularly popular with the urbanites. All my Russian friends were enthralled by the prospect of Putin’s possible downfalls in 2012. The atmosphere in Moscow was tense but full of hope. Even without a clear alternate politician to back, all the young Russians I personally knew were sick of the government corruption and lack of political participation. Looking back, I can’t help but wonder how the 2012 protest was just a prelude to the radicalization of Putin and his increasing belligerence toward the West.
Novospassky Monastery in southeastern Moscow.
The Stalinist architecture of Moscow.
Religious Procession in Kursk Governorate by Ilya Repin.
To best understand Russia and its cultural hegemony, the place to visit would be the State Tretyakov Gallery in Moscow. Unlike Saint Petersburg’s Heritage Museum, Tretyakov is known for its exclusively Russian arts. My former roommate Meghan and I visited the museum on our second day in Moscow. After several galleries, she turned to me and said: “Man, every painting in this museum is so grim and gloomy.” By that, she referred to the artistic style and the subject matters that disturbed us. From Ivan the Terrible and His Son Ivan to the Religious Procession in Kursk Governorate, the history of Russia is filled with episodes of grave tragedies and untold suffering. If arts are a portal to the souls of a nation, Russia’s history of great sorrow and heroic endurance.
The Heroic Ukraine
Even though I have never been to Ukraine besides a layover in Kyiv, Ukraine has always intrigued me as a spiritual birthplace of the Slavic world. The federation of Kievan Rus’ of the 9th to 13th century is regarded as the first pan-Slavic political union. The capital city, Kyiv, is one of the oldest continuously settled cities in Eastern Europe and a center of Eastern Orthodoxy. Despite its Slavic roots, the land of modern Ukraine has been passed between neighboring powers from the Grand Duchy of Lithuania to the Mongols. Just like Poland, the flat topography of Ukraine made its defense particularly fierce. Indeed, many of the most severe battles of World War II took place in Ukraine. The Soviet resistance against Nazi Germany has been historically a unifying accomplishment between the two nations.
Moscow’s Kievskaya Rail Station is the main terminus that leads to Kyiv.
The sculpture of heroic Ukrainians inside the Kievskaya Metro Station.
The mosaic of the Kievskaya Metro Station.
For any of us who has followed the history of Eastern Europe closely over the years, the prospect of a Russian full-scale invasion of Ukraine seemed unbelievable ten years ago. It is not only the second largest of the Soviet republics but also arguably the most important constituent republic. During the Soviet period, the Ukrainian SSR was considered both the breadbasket and industrial heartland of the Soviet Union. The importance of Ukraine for the Russian psyche could not be overstated. The historically close friendship between the Ukrainian and Russian people was physically manifested throughout Moscow. One of the most prominent edifices is Moscow’s Kiyevskaya Metro Station. Lining the hall are panel after panel of elaborate mosaics depicting the bravery and agricultural prosperity of the Ukrainian people. Among the schemes depicted are the Battle of Poltava and the 1943 liberation of Kyiv by the Soviet troops. But one common thread across all the mosaic: the Ukrainian success is inseparable from that of Russia.
Indeed, the historical nickname for Ukraine is “Little Russia”. As that name suggests, there is no doubt that Ukraine was historically subservient to Mother Russia or a junior partner at best. It seems like Putin’s bizarre rationale for invading Ukraine stems from this historical narrative. He simply could not accept the prospect of Ukraine turning her back on Moscow. While the justification for Putin’s “special military operation” is absurd and highly immoral, I could understand how his narrative could be appealing to many patriotic Russians.
I don’t think many outsiders comprehend how interwoven the two nations are. Many Russians have close friends in Ukraine and have shared Ukrainian heritage. Despite the increased media censorship in the country, I don’t believe the government could keep the reality of war from the public for too long. No matter what a Russian nationalist you are, it is difficult not to tear up watching the footage coming out of Ukraine. From pictures of fleeing refugees to videos of inexperienced civilians taking up weapons to defend the country, the reality of wars is heartbreaking. The courage of the Ukrainian resistance is simply awe-inspiring; I found myself weeping because of the strength and fragility of humanity.
Let’s Listen To The Baltic
There is no doubt that the Russian invasion of Ukraine is a wake-up call to Western Europe. Since the fall of the Iron Curtain in 1989, the prevailing wisdom has been the importance of economic integration as the best way to preserve peace between Russia and the West. Industrious nations like Germany and France particularly champion such an attitude. Under the guise of peace, the West decided to look away from the human rights abuse of Russia and China to access their vast market and labor market. But for the last two decades, political leaders across all three Baltic nations, Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania, have warned against threats of Russian military intentions and economic coercion. Of course, they have a front-row seat of living under the shadow of Soviet Russia. Estonia’s border town of Narva is often branded as NATO's most sensitive border. But for the most part, their concerns went unheated, and they were mocked as either alarmists or Russophobes.
Soviet-era monument for the Latvian Riflemen in Riga, Latvia.
Vabamu Museum of Occupations and Freedom in Tallinn, Estonia.
As small nations, the Baltic states understand the importance of NATO and EU membership. Like their Polish and Czech neighbors, they know the threat of Russia all too well because of their own tragic 20th-century history. They view Russia’s incursion into Georgia (2008) and Ukraine (2014) as a prelude to Putin’s venture into NATO territory. All three countries border Russia, and all have quite a few ethnic Russian residents within their own border and are highly susceptible to Moscow’s propaganda. The 2007 riot in Estonia, called “Bronze Night” was considered the first organized Russian disinformation campaign against a NATO country and the first cyber warfare ever against a nation-state.
Statue of Soviet workers (now removed) of Green Bridge in Vilnius, Lithuania.
Following the incident, Estonia revamped the national defense with multi-pronged strategies, which include the establishment of the NATO Cooperative Cyber Defence Centre of Excellence (CCDCOE), the establishment of Estonia’s own Russian language broadcasting, and the enlargement of Estonia’s own volunteer civil defense league. Besides these concrete steps to guard against potential invasion, the Baltic leaders also call attention to the continuous illegal annexation of Crimea, South Ossetia, and Abkhaz, which has long been “written off” by leaders of Western European countries. Dalia Grybauskaitė, the former President of Lithuania, once warned the West that the European Union ignored these frozen conflicts to their own peril. Gosh, what a prophetic statement that is now!
Glories To Ukraine
Like many in the democratic world, I have glued myself to the television and internet coverage of the invasion. The sheer brutality and inhumanity of war are all too bare. As an individual without a direct connection to Ukraine, I immediately thought of my Russian friends in Moscow and the United States. Having known them, I am confident that they were horrified by the war that was waved on their behalf. Equally terrifying to them are Russia’s increasing isolation and further clamp down on civil liberties. I could only imagine what a parallel universe they find themselves in.
The “Fuck Putler” signs are particularly popular at the protest rally.
I could only imagine the pain this woman was experiencing.
After a few days, I realized I needed to take my eyes off the continuous news coverage and visit one of the numerous anti-war protests around New York City. Brian and I stopped by Times Square as the protest ended late afternoon. By then, there were probably only two hundred demonstrators, mainly Ukrainians. The demonstration was somber and soulful. All public speeches had ceased and were replaced with a trio of young musicians playing Ukrainian songs. But mostly, the protestors were happy to stand quietly with national flags and protest signs. Many protestors struggled to hold back tears, and it stood in sharp contrast with the joyous mood of tourists at the other end of the square.
Sanctions may not be the most effective step to prevent a war, but we sure should give them a try.
Like most protests, the message on the protest signs gave us an insight into the messages that resonated with Ukrainians. Besides the obvious ones like “Fuck Putin” or “Stand with Ukraine,” a couple of them stood out to me. One sign read "It took only 77 years to forget ‘Never Forget’. Shame on the world!”, which is a reference to the surrender of Nazi Germany. It was a sharp reminder of the absurdity of Putin’s demand for “denazification”. For the people of Ukraine, the Russian invasion must have been particularly bitter, considering that Ukrainian and Russian citizens stood shoulder-to-shoulder against the Nazis back then. For Ukrainians to be suddenly branded as Nazis by Putin, it must have felt like a stab in the back.
This was Brian’s favorite protest sign.
“Never Forget” is just a slogan, unfortunately.
Brian’s favorite sign out there read, “Flight MH17 should have been the end”. It was about Malaysia Flight 17, which was shot down by a Russian missile operated by the Russia-backed separatists in Donbas. I still remember how outraged Brian was at the time, considering that Russia got a simple slap on the wrist for the crime that cost nearly three hundred lives. I must admit that I shrugged off the incident as an unfortunate accident. Looking back, it was just one of the numerous Russian transgressions the democratic West ignored for economic interests. Would the Netherlands swear off Russian oil and gas because of the death of 193 citizens? Probably not.
The anti-war protest at Time Square.
The anti-war protest at Time Square.
The improvised yellow tape armband really spoke to me.
Since the Russian invasion, many good-hearted people around the world have been asking what it is that they could do. Other than providing attending rallies or posting messages of support, we must collectively speak out against injustice wherever we see it. Very often we choose to sugarcoat or be overly nuanced regarding injustice. A case in point would be how many European leaders describe the Crimean Peninsula. Instead of calling it an annexed region, we must call Crimea an illegally occupied territory of Ukraine. The same should go for places like Luhansk, Donetsk, South Ossetia, and Abkhazia.
“When talking about Ukraine and Georgia, it is very important that things are called by the right names — a war is a war, and an occupation is an occupation.”
But to be frank, I have been sorely disappointed by the Americans’ general disinterest in what is happening in Ukraine. Judging from my Facebook stream (which I admit is not a scientific measure ), it seems to me that Americans seem more moved by the 2015 terrorist attack on Paris. I can’t help feeling that many Americans choose to turn away from the news because of how helpless the situation may seem. I think that is a uniquely American phenomenon. If Americans pay half as much attention to international affairs as they do to the NFL, I am confident we could remedy so much illness around the globe.
Lukoil is just one of the many Russian businesses that are now boycotted all over the world.
On a substantive level, we must ask how much we could do to stop Putin from continuing this bloody invasion. Despite my genuine affection for the Russian people, it is now the time for the world to levy the most severe financial punishment possible on Russia. From banning all financial transactions with Russian banks to expelling Russia from all international events, the sanctions should be just an initial step in exerting maximum pressure on the Russian Federation. The clock is ticking on Ukraine and all liberal democracies. It is time to stand up to the unabashed evil of this world.
