From Journalist to Soldier in the Russian Invasion of Ukraine

 used to be convinced that my generation had to live in a posthistory.

It seemed that all the events had already happened and the rules were set. Empires had collapsed, independence had been gained, and wars were over. It was easy to believe that history was on the rails and that everyone could predict its trajectory.

The country was perceived as something suffered by others. It was won by people with banknotes and memorial plaques. It seemed that the task of my generation was only to dust off the monuments and pedestals.

I was wrong.

It turned out that my generation had to live in the most subjective period of the country’s history. That its future depends on our decisions or inaction. That independence is a theorem that needs to be proved every day.

Over the past three years, some of my friends have become streets. Others have become monuments. My grandchildren will be asked at school the biographies of those with whom we correspond in messengers today. Portraits of our contemporaries will be seen on Ukrainian banknotes, and the only thing that can prevent this is the lack of Ukrainian banknotes.

If earlier each of us was the keeper of history, now we are destined to become its co-authors. Against the backdrop of today’s challenges, pre-war issues run the risk of appearing “warm” and “tepid.” The only difficulty is that our turbulence has coincided with the global one, and now the old rules and guidelines no longer work.

We used to perceive the United States as a guardian of democracy and world order. Now, American voters have elected a man who threatens allies and makes deals with dictators. A country that has invested in soft power for decades is now trading the dubloons of authority and reputation for the coppers of petty popularity.

Russia has long perceived itself as the antithesis of democracy. It claimed that values did not exist, unlike price tags. That the world is built on cynicism and self-interest. Donald Trump’s victory should convince the Kremlin’s inhabitants that they are right. In the new reality, Viktor Orban and Robert Fico no longer look like vestiges of a bygone era, but rather prophets of a new one.

Add to this the growing popularity of the right in Europe. Radicalization of the agenda in old democracies. Electoral surprises generated by social media, such as in Romania, and centralized slogans in the EU. And we get the same background against which Ukraine is fighting back against the empire.

The old line of confrontation in the world has changed radically.

After World War II, it was between market democracies and planned dictatorships. It was believed that the market and prosperity lead to freedom by themselves. That once a state was included in global trade, it would inevitably become part of the democratic world. This was a mistake.

It used to be easier. We lived on the post-war legacy, and any event could be correlated with analogues in history textbooks. Now the old rules are losing their force, and the wording of the new ones will depend on the outcome of our war. Russia’s success will inspire other empires. Our defeat will frighten the continent and create a demand for politicians who will seek peace in Putin’s eyes.

If we fail, the consequences will not only be millions of refugees in the EU. Not only dozens of new Mariupol and hundreds of new Bucha. The result will be a fear of power and a willingness to bow down to it. Under such conditions, the 30s of the twenty-first century will be strikingly similar to the 30s of the twentieth.

The problem is that the grandees of old Europe have long lived in a situation of security surplus. Their inviolability was guaranteed by the United States, and they were used to not looking back at military threats. Now they have to relearn this, arm themselves, and teach their citizens that they have more than just rights.

We could teach them a lot.

In the new reality, we have suddenly become a frontrunner. We are the only ones who can sink missile cruisers and shoot down strategic bombers. We can burn tanks by the dozens and destroy over-the-horizon radars. We can fight air battles against modern fighters and intercept hypersonic missiles.

Only our army can fight a nuclear power. It was we who destroyed a tank fist designed to throw it to the English Channel. Each of our infantrymen near Pokrovsk saw more war in a month than an American Marine saw during his entire service.

The war taught us that culture is the collective memory of a nation. That vindictiveness is its collective immunity. We often blame ourselves for not coping well with the challenges of the invasion. But all criticism is shattered by the fact that we have no one to compare ourselves to. Over the past 70 years, no one but us has faced this.

There are no more adults around. We are the adults now.

~ Pavlo Kazarin, journalist, sergeant