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20
хв

A Destroyed City’s Newspaper: how Bakhmut’s Paper publishment Saves People from Sorrow and Propaganda

Before the war in Ukraine, much was said about the death of print newspapers, yet a Bakhmut local print newspaper played a crucial role in the lives of the devastated city's residents. When the Russians flooded the town with propaganda, «Vpered» newspaper was the first to deliver the truth to Bakhmutians. It then became the thread holding the community together, even as the war scattered people across the world

Galina Halimonik

Bakhmut residents reading their favourite newspaper. Photo: «Vpered» archive

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I had been waiting for weeks to speak with «Vpered’s» chief editor, Svitlana Ovcharenko. Finally, late on a Saturday evening, she called me while I was walking along the waterfront of a small Polish town. My thoughts were in the destroyed Bakhmut, among the dispersed community of Bakhmutians scattered by the war.

Eighty-four-year-old Vasyl from Bakhmut now lives in a retirement home in the Czech Republic. In the newspaper «Vpered», he shared, «They gave me a new mattress! I did not want to lie on the old one, and now I do not want to get up from the new one - it is so comfortable». Comfortable furniture, like everything else of value to the people of Bakhmut, has disappeared in the city's ruins. All that remains are the people, the keys to their destroyed homes, and... the city’s print newspaper.

Svitlana Ovcharenko (in the middle) with colleagues during the artistic process of creating a newspaper for Bakhmutians

Readers in the underground

Before the war, the editorial office of the Bakhmut newspaper «Vpered» was located on Peace Street. Chestnut trees grew in the yard, blossoming with soft pink flowers in the spring and dropping shiny brown nuts generously in the fall. Once, they even cracked the windshield of the editorial car.

The eight windows of the office witnessed life: late-night newspaper layouts, meetings with readers, emotions, and debates. Now, only charred trunks and ashes remain. «Those windows are gone, and there is no life behind them. Where there once was a porch where we loved to drink coffee, now there is a black void», says Svitlana Ovcharenko.

The newspaper’s release was only suspended twice: in 1941 when Nazi Germany attacked and on February 24th 2022 - because of the Russian invasion

«Bakhmut was bombed on the first day of the invasion», - Svitlana recalls. - «We had prepared the newspaper on February 23rd, but on the 24th, we could not retrieve it from the printing house in Kramatorsk because the road was under constant fire».

Pro-Russian militants had attempted to seize Bakhmut back in April 2014, but on July 6th of that year, the city returned to Ukrainian control. The war raged 30 kilometres away for eight years, but no one imagined it would reach the city itself.

They would build promenades, lay tiled pavements, develop parks - instead of building defence fortifications

In March, the editor of «Vpered», Svitlana Ovcharenko, left for Odesa with her mother, hoping to wait out the «escalation». She dressed in a tracksuit, packed essential items in a backpack, and slipped two sets of keys - one to the newspaper office and one to her apartment - into her pocket.

The first issue of the newspaper was printed in the Autumn of 2022, in the midst of the war.

During the first months of the war, Svitlana lived glued to the news, keeping track of what was happening across the country. Bakhmut had become one of the most dangerous places on Earth, yet people stayed.

The Russians cut off electricity, gas, and mobile connections, while their propagandists misled the population via radio signals, claiming that everyone had abandoned them, and even local authorities had fled.

«Kyiv has fallen», - blared from the radios

In the first months of the full-scale war, nearly 50 thousand people left the city of 73 thousand. Yet some returned, saying, «There is no one waiting for us there, so there is no point in leaving».

The Russians launched an active offensive in August, and fierce fighting broke out among the city's buildings, the most intense battles since World War II.

Efforts to persuade the remaining residents to leave were unsuccessful. By October, local authorities started bringing in basic heating stoves, firewood, and coal. Every trip outside the basements could be a resident’s last, but nearly 20 thousand people remained in the city.

This jolted Svitlana Ovcharenko out of her stupor. She decided to revive the newspaper to provide accurate information to those who were afraid to leave. There were countless challenges: accounting records, passwords, and access codes had been left behind in Bakhmut. However, thanks to the efforts of the National Union of Journalists of Ukraine and a Japanese foundation, the first issue was printed on November 4th 2022, right in the midst of the war.

The first printed edition was brought to Bakhmut by Italian journalists.

Foreign journalists helped bring the newspaper to Bakhmut

The residents took the paper with surprise and joy, believing it was a sign that the end of the war was near. «It was a ray of hope in our hell», they later wrote on social media.

«Vpered» published an interview with the mayor, Oleksiy Reva, who urged civilians to evacuate immediately. «Kyiv has not fallen, and Bakhmut residents will be welcomed in any Ukrainian city», the newspaper wrote. And people began to leave...

Before the war, much had been said about the death of print newspapers in Ukraine. But it turned out that the local newspaper, which people had trusted for years, held great influence. It was no coincidence that Russian occupiers repeatedly forged «Vpered» to spread their propaganda among the locals.

In February 2023, Deputy Prime Minister Iryna Vereshchuk reported that fewer than four thousand residents remained in Bakhmut.

One of the last issues of the newspaper was brought to Bakhmut by volunteer Mykhailo Puryshev’s team in May 2023.

In a room lined with sandbags, stacks of newspapers lay in the middle. People with weary faces gathered around, reading with hope, longing to hear they could stay in their homes. But no - the newspaper reported that the city was close to falling under Russian control. On May 20th 2023, Russia declared the complete capture of Bakhmut.

«Should we keep publishing a newspaper for a city that no longer exists?»

In response, Ukrainian soldiers released drone footage showing collapsed roofs, destroyed apartment blocks, burned-out vehicles… a dead, deserted city. Russian forces had taken control of Bakhmut's territory, but the city itself was entirely destroyed. Experts estimate it will take at least ten years to clear the landmines, and another decade to remove the rubble.

The remains of Svitlana’s apartment in Bakhmut

Svitlana Ovcharenko received a call from Serhiy Tomilenko, the head of the National Union of Journalists of Ukraine (NUJU). He asked whether it made sense to continue publishing the city’s newspaper, given that Bakhmut no longer existed. Ovcharenko responded: «Bakhmut lives in each of us. As long as we breathe, the city remains alive. Because Bakhmut is more than just bricks and concrete. It is us - the people».

The NUJU involved Ovcharenko in the IRMI (International Institute of Regional Press and Information) project, which was implemented in partnership with Fondation Hirondelle and financially supported by Swiss Solidarity.

The newspaper started being delivered across Ukraine to refugee centres where most Bakhmutians now live. There are already 12 such centres. Some former residents of Bakhmut even pay to have the newspaper delivered via Nova Poshta, spending 55 hryvnias (about 5 zlotys) to receive each issue. «Even the smell of the printing ink on Vpered reminds me of home», admits 62-year-old Nadia, who now lives in Poltava and goes to the post office every two weeks to collect the newspaper.

«Vpered» newspaper arrived at one of the refugee support centres

«I can not part with the keys to my bombed-out apartment»

Svitlana Ovcharenko continues to live in Odesa with her elderly mother in a rented apartment. «Where my apartment in Bakhmut once stood, there is now a massive black hole. My mother's home is nothing but ruins. I was asked to donate my keys to the «Time Capsule» installation about Bakhmut, but I can not bring myself to part with them. As long as I have them, there is still hope that one day I will unlock the door to my home».

«Time Capsule»: keys to apartments that no longer exist

In one of the newspaper's photo illustrations, keys of various sizes and shapes are laid out on an old fabric. These fragile symbols of lost homes each carry the pain and memories of lives destroyed.

In a newspaper story, 71-year-old Lyudmyla shares her experience: «My husband and I settled on the left bank of the Dnipro. The room is small and without repairs - old wallpaper and outdated plumbing. The windows do not work, and the ventilation is poor. It is painful to compare it to our previous home. So much time has passed, yet we are still adjusting to new streets and these everyday inconveniences».

The topic of lost homes resonates deeply with Svitlana Ovcharenko. I had seen her photos and heard her voice - she struck me as a much younger woman. As if reading my thoughts, Svitlana clarified, «I am already retired. I understand my readers. Like them, I still can not sleep soundly in an unfamiliar bed».

Despite her personal struggles, she continues to publish the newspaper. For a long time, she prepared each issue alone. A colleague, who had found refuge in Sumy Oblast, helped format the text for the eight-page paper.

Sometimes, they would start work at 2 AM and continue until morning—this was the only time they both had access to electricity due to the destruction of the energy system. «I set my alarm for 2 AM, wake up, go to the kitchen, brew coffee, and turn on my laptop. I am in Odesa, my colleague is in Sumy».

Now, four people work with Svitlana on the newspaper. They also manage the website, fill social media with updates and shoot videos.

German politician and film director Rebecca Harms pointed out the «Vpered» newspaper as an example of a preserved printed mass media on a meeting with Ukrainian journalists

«Do not repeat Bakhmut’s mistakes»

One of the latest issues of the newspaper features a profile of soldier Volodymyr Andriutsa, call sign «Talent». He was born and lived his entire life in Donetsk Oblast. He died defending Bakhmut. His father, Mykola Andriutsa, recalls with sorrow how long it took his son to accept that Russia had become the enemy.

- There was even a time after 2014 when Volodymyr travelled to Crimea and then to Russia, - recalls Mykola. - Even on a day-to-day level, he saw how much they hated us, Ukrainians. The full-scale war turned him into a true patriot and defender.

Recently, the newspaper editor received a message from an acquaintance asking to anonymously share her husband’s story. He had gone through so much trauma that his life had become a nightmare - he wandered around a foreign city, collecting trash and food scraps, and bringing them back to their rented apartment. His actions seemed senseless, but perhaps he was seeking some personal meaning and stability in the chaos of war.

The people of Bakhmut are now scattered across the world. They are learning to live again, but they still remember their city and dream of returning. «Bakhmut lives as long as we remember it», says Svitlana. And as long as the «Vpered» newspaper keeps them connected, that memory remains alive.

Each new issue reminds the Bakhmutians of their home left in ruins

Next to me, a peaceful Polish town drifts off to sleep. In the quiet evening, I ask the editor of the Bakhmut newspaper what she would say to Polish and Ukrainian readers.

- Do not repeat Bakhmut’s mistakes. Do not forget about the war. Protect your lives. Otherwise, nothing will be left but ruins and memories…

Photos from the «Vpered» newspaper’s archives

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Editor and journalist, author of articles on local governments, ecology and human stories, as well as an advocate for solutions journalism, explanatory journalism, and social campaigns in the media. In 2006, she founded the municipal newspaper «Visti Bilyayivky». The publication successfully underwent privatisation in 2017, transforming into an information agency with two websites - Біляївка.City and Open.Дністер - along with numerous offline projects and social campaigns. The Біляївка.City website covers a community of 20 thousand residents but attracts millions of views and approximately 200 thousand monthly readers. She has worked on projects with UNICEF, NSJU, Internews Ukraine, Internews.Network, Volyn Press Club, Ukrainian Crisis Media Center, Media Development Foundation and Deutsche Welle Akademie. She has also been a media management trainer for Lviv Media Forum projects. Since the beginning of the full-scale war, she has been living and working in Katowice for Gazeta Wyborcza.

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Українці сьогодні ставлять собі обґрунтоване запитання: хто відбудовуватиме Україну, якщо біженці не повернуться? В умовах драматичної демографічної ситуації це питання звучить особливо болісно. Проте останні дані з Польщі хоч і можуть на перший погляд занепокоїти, насправді розповідають іншу історію — не про втрату, а про неймовірну силу та потенціал, що гартується на чужині й чекає на свій час.

Звіт компанії Deloitte про становище українських біженців у Польщі змальовує картину надзвичайної стійкості й рішучості. Пам'ятаймо, про кого ми говоримо. Це не анонімна міграція. Це насамперед українські жінки й діти. Аж 67% домогосподарств утримують самотні жінки, які в чужій країні взяли на свої плечі долю всієї родини, борючись із травмою війни та щоденною непевністю щодо долі близьких. Їхня здатність стати на ноги та знайти роботу в таких складних умовах є першим потужним доказом сили українського духу.

Доказ цінності, а не аргумент залишатися

Внесок українців у польську економіку вражає. У 2024 році вони додали до польського ВВП аж 2,7%, що відповідає сумі майже 99 мільярдів злотих доданої вартості

Завдяки сплаченим українцями податкам і внескам доходи державного бюджету зросли на 2,94%. Ці цифри не слід сприймати як втрату для України. Навпаки — це твердий доказ величезної цінності українського людського капіталу. Доказ того, що українці навіть у несприятливих умовах здатні творити, будувати й робити величезний внесок у розвиток. А отже, можна зробити висновок, що цей самий людський капітал може стати ключовим ресурсом у процесі відбудови вільної України.

Ба більше, аналіз спростовує міф про нібито конкуренцію. Дані показують, що в повітах, де частка біженців у зайнятості зросла на один відсотковий пункт, зайнятість громадян Польщі зросла на 0,5%, а безробіття знизилося на 0,3%. Виявилося, що присутність українських працівників стала для польської економіки стимулом до підвищення продуктивності й дала полякам можливість перейти на краще оплачувані та більш відповідальні посади.

Надзвичайно промовистим є також професійне зростання самих українців. Медіана їхньої заробітної плати протягом двох років зросла з 3100 злотих до 4000 злотих нетто, наблизившись до рівня 84% медіани по країні. Це доказ не лише рішучості, але й блискавичної адаптації. Не менш важливим є той факт, що біженці переважно утримують себе самі. Дослідження UNHCR за 2024 рік показують, що аж 80% доходів у їхніх домогосподарствах походять від праці. Соціальні виплати, переважно 800+ на дітей, становлять лише 14% їхніх доходів, і ця частка не зросла попри підвищення суми виплати. 

Це один з найшвидших процесів економічної інтеграції в історії сучасних міграцій у Європі

Цю картину співпраці, яка приносить користь обом сторонам, підтверджують не лише аналітики. Її можна почути й у голосах польських підприємців, які щодня бачать, як нова енергія живить їхні компанії.

«Польща перебуває в комфортній ситуації, бо вона не лише допомагає людям у потребі, а й заробляє завдяки їхній праці. Рідко трапляється, щоб у такому масштабі етика йшла пліч-о-пліч з прагматизмом», — коментує власник польської фірми, яка працевлаштовує чимало працівників з України, переважно жінок. Він просить зберегти анонімність, бо «останні голоси від нового мешканця Бельведеру вказують на інший напрямок».

Слова підприємця чудово віддзеркалюють парадокс, у якому опинилася Польща. Його прохання про анонімність не є випадковим. У періоди виборчих кампаній побоювання, пов'язані з міграцією, стають легким політичним паливом для частини політичної сцени. Гасла про нібито «відбирання робочих місць» чи «надмірне навантаження на бюджет» хоч і суперечать реальним даним, часом свідомо використовуються для мобілізації електорату. Це створює атмосферу невизначеності, в якій навіть позитивні економічні факти відсуваються на другий план гучнішим, негативним наративом.

Скарб, що чекає на розкриття — в Україні

Однак найважливіший висновок зі звіту — це величезний, досі не використаний потенціал. Аж 40% біженців працездатного віку мають вищу освіту, але лише 12% з них працюють на посадах, що вимагають таких кваліфікацій (порівняно з 37% серед поляків). Основні бар'єри:

  • Мова: Лише 18% біженців заявляють про вільне володіння польською мовою.
  • Регуляції: У регульованих професіях, як-от лікар чи архітектор, працюють лише 3,6% біженців (серед поляків — 10,6%).
  • Громадянство: Багато професій у державному секторі (наприклад, вчитель, медсестра, медичний рятувальник) залишаються формально закритими для осіб без польського паспорта незалежно від їхньої фактичної кваліфікації.

Аналітики підрахували, що якби Польща розблокувала бодай половину цього потенціалу, її економіка отримала б щонайменше 6 мільярдів злотих на рік, з яких понад 2,5 мільярди надійшли б безпосередньо до держбюджету. Це сума, порівняна з великою податковою реформою.

Парадокс інтеграції

Сьогодні працевлаштовано 69% дорослих біженців працездатного віку, а серед жінок цей показник становить 70% — лише на 2 відсоткові пункти менше, ніж серед польок. Однак проблеми починаються у віковій групі 25-39 років, де українські матері працюють значно рідше через брак системної підтримки у догляді за малими дітьми.

Цікаво, що дані демонструють певний парадокс. З одного боку, професійна інтеграція та знаходження нормальної роботи призводять до того, що біженці рідше планують повернення в Україну. З іншого боку — доступ до освіти та державних послуг, тобто соціальна інтеграція, збільшує готовність до повернення, оскільки дає відчуття стабільності й здатність свідомо планувати майбутнє. Це означає, що, допомагаючи людям знайти себе в суспільстві, їх не обов’язково «відбирають» в України — радше дають їм сили для ухвалення свідомого рішення про повернення, коли це стане можливим.

Саме досвід, здобутий за кордоном, може стати безцінною інвестицією в майбутнє. Це знання стандартів ЄС, ділові контакти, нові навички. Це капітал, який повернеться в Україну разом з людьми — майбутніми підприємцями та лідерами відбудови.

Однак у всіх цих дебатах про відсотки ВВП та стратегії найрідше чути голос тих, кого це стосується найбільше. Їхнє почуття безпеки крихке, бо залежить не лише від економічної стабільності, а й від соціальної атмосфери. А вона в свою чергу буває отруєна політичною грою, в якій гасла на кшталт «час закінчити з преференціями» чи «захист кордонів від напливу чужинців» стають інструментом для здобуття підтримки. Це відчуття «небажаного гостя» найкраще передає допис з форуму української діаспори:

«Якщо ти біженка, яка втратила все, що нажила за життя, чоловік пішов на фронт, а ти з дітьми мусила панічно тікати за кордон і день у день живеш питанням, чи буде до чого і до кого повертатися, чи все ж залишитися в Польщі, бо тут поки що безпечно, хоча дедалі частіше відчуваєш, що ти тут небажана гостя (...) то чи почувалася б ти в безпеці?»

Ці слова нагадують, що ключем до всього є перемога та створення в Україні безпечного, справедливого і перспективного майбутнього. Це сила, яка може повернутися і в майбутньому живити Україну. Однак, ключовим буде створення умов, які дозволять цим людям безпечно жити й використовувати здобутий досвід у власній країні.

20
хв

Сила, що чекає на повернення: українці в Польщі — не втрачений, а загартований потенціал для відбудови

Єжи Вуйцік

Joanna Mosiej: I would like to begin our conversation with your family history, because on many levels it serves as a metaphor for our Polish-Ukrainian relations. I am referring to your ancestors, the Szeptycki brothers. Roman (Andrey Sheptytsky - head of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church, Metropolitan of Galicia, Archbishop of Lviv (1901–1944) - Edit.) converted to the Greek Catholic faith, entered a monastery, and later became Metropolitan. Another brother, Stanisław, first served in the Austrian army, and after the war became a general in the Polish army. Both were patriots, individuals deeply devoted to the countries they served. And they maintained a fraternal bond.

Professor Andrzej Szeptycki: Of the five Szeptycki brothers, two identified themselves as Ukrainians - Metropolitan Andrey Sheptytsky and Blessed Father Klymentiy - and three were Poles. I am referring to General Stanisław Szeptycki and also his brothers, Aleksander and my great-grandfather Leon. Metropolitan Andrey and Father Klymentiy regularly came on holiday to rest at the family home in Prylbichi in the Yavoriv district, where my great-grandfather Leon Szeptycki later lived. Despite their national differences, they maintained good relations with each other until the end of their lives.

Professor Andrzej Szeptycki. Photo: Michal Zebrowski / East News

They proved to us that different national identities can coexist without excluding one another.

I believe it was also very important that in the case of each of them, national identity was a significant element of life, but not the only one. In the case of Metropolitan Andrey and Father Klymentiy, their vocation and religious choices were primary as clergy. General Stanisław Szeptycki, as a soldier of that time, first served in the Austro-Hungarian and then in the Polish army and sought to serve his country well. They were certainly patriots - of each nation with which they identified. On the other hand, it is very important that they were certainly not nationalists. And this allowed them to respect different views while remaining close to one another.

Was such a legacy, a borderland identity, a value or a curse for your family? How does it define you?

During the communist period, it was somewhat of a challenge, a burden. The communist authorities viewed representatives of the former noble class negatively. In the case of the Szeptycki family, this was further combined with a very strong propaganda narrative directed against Ukrainians in Poland. And, of course, directed personally against Metropolitan Andrey, who was portrayed as a Ukrainian nationalist and spiritual father of the Ukrainian Insurgent Army. During the communist period, and even in the 1990s, relatives quite regularly heard that Szeptycki is a Banderite». Nowadays, this has practically disappeared. I experienced this myself in 2023 when I was running an election campaign. The few voter reactions to my name were generally positive. In this sense, it is a significant change.

Apart from comments on social media, of course.

Yes, there I am often called Szeptycki - a Ukrainian, a Banderite. And surely there is a portion of society that will always react in this way. Returning to how it defines me, ever since our student years, my cousins and I have quite often travelled around Ukraine.

Some of us needed only one trip, while others stayed longer, for life. My cousin moved to Lviv a few years ago at the age of 50. Another cousin established the Szeptycki Family Foundation, which became actively involved in supporting Ukraine after February 24th 2022.

Photo: Karina Krystosiak/REPORTER

How do you explain this outburst of solidarity among us in 2022?

I believe there are three important factors. Firstly, the simple human need to help. Altruism which arises when we witness the suffering of others and react without much consideration.

Secondly, the shared experience of Russian imperialism. This has always resonated with Polish society. It is worth recalling the Polish response to the war in Chechnya - the reception of refugees, the clear sympathies. Or the year 2008 and the war in Georgia. Poland does not have strong cultural or geographical ties with Georgia, yet the reaction was vivid. We remember President Lech Kaczyński’s visit to Tbilisi and his prophetic words: today Georgia, tomorrow Ukraine, the day after, perhaps the Baltic states, and then Poland. But most importantly - and in my opinion decisively - is the fact that none of this arose in a vacuum. This solidarity did not suddenly sprout in a desert, but on rather fertile ground which Poles and Ukrainians had been cultivating together over the past three decades.

From the 1990s, both sides carried out considerable work to develop interpersonal contacts. In 2022, many Poles were not helping «refugees». We were, for the most part, simply helping friends

Keeping in mind the great importance of the prior presence of Ukrainian refugees who had arrived in Poland since 2014, economic migrants from Ukraine, and the Ukrainian minority, primarily descendants of the victims of Operation Vistula.

Of course. Since the beginning of the war, that is, since 2014, or even since 2004, the Ukrainian minority in Poland has played an important role in supporting Ukraine - collecting funds, purchasing equipment, sending that equipment to the frontline. And receiving Ukrainian military refugees after February 24th 2022. Undoubtedly, the role of this community cannot be overestimated.

Precisely. You have been researching Polish-Ukrainian relations for many years. How have they changed? How has the Poles’ perception of Ukrainians changed?

It has been a long process. From the establishment of mutual contacts in the 1990s, through the Orange Revolution, the Revolution of Dignity - up to 2022. And, on the other hand, through the long-term presence in Poland of a significant group of economic migrants from Ukraine. Let us not forget that none of this would have been possible without the consistency of Poland’s Eastern policy and the legacy of the thought of the Paris-based «Kultura» and Jerzy Giedroyc personally. This belief in the importance of Ukraine, the importance of good relations, the necessity of support.

We were the first country to recognise Ukraine’s independence.

And it is worth mentioning a very important, albeit little-known, moment in Polish-Ukrainian relations on the eve of the USSR’s collapse, namely the participation of the Polish delegation of civic committees in the 1st Congress of the People’s Movement in Kyiv in 1989. The presence of representatives of the Polish civic committees, including Adam Michnik and Bogdan Borusewicz, was a symbolic gesture of support for Ukraine from Polish «Solidarity» at a time when Poland was still part of the Warsaw Pact and Ukraine still within the USSR.

Photo: Łukasz Gdak/East News

And what were the subsequent milestones of our cooperation?

First and foremost, the three key events of the past two decades, which I have already mentioned: the Orange Revolution, the Revolution of Dignity, and the full-scale Russian invasion in 2022. Each of these was met in Poland with clear public interest and a broad response of solidarity.

A sense of shared destiny, the legacy of Solidarity and the struggle for independence played an important role. At times, analogies were even drawn: it was said that Ukrainians in 2022 found themselves in a situation similar to that faced by Poles during the Second World War. The exhibition «Warsaw - Mariupol: cities of ruins, cities of struggle, cities of hope» was one such attempt to draw this symbolic parallel: cities levelled to the ground, the suffering of civilians, resistance. But it was also accompanied by another, no less important conviction: that Ukrainians today are facing something we, fortunately, are not experiencing - a classic violent conflict with Russian imperialism. And this solidarity manifested itself in Polish assistance.

What can we do to ensure this unprecedented solidarity seen in 2022 is not wasted? Today, in addition to the demons of the past, such as Volyn’ and the issue of exhumations, there are pressing social and economic problems.

Firstly, it is important to realise that no surge of solidarity lasts forever. The enthusiasm for Ukrainians that erupted after the beginning of the Russian invasion has gradually waned, and we are now in a phase where tension and fatigue are beginning to accumulate.

For most of its recent history, Poland has been a country of emigration - people left in search of work, bread, a better life. The issue of immigration was virtually absent from public debate. Today, the situation has changed. Around two million Ukrainians live in Poland - both economic migrants and people who fled the war. This is an entirely new social reality and a challenge to which we must respond consciously. Other challenges, including economic ones, must also be taken into account.

The pandemic, war and inflation - all of these influence the public sentiment. When people start running out of money, their willingness to show solidarity with «new neighbours» may weaken

Especially since they are constantly exposed to populist narratives claiming that immigrants take away our social benefits and our places in the queue for doctors. And that Ukraine does not agree to exhumations.

Yes, this is precisely why Polish-Ukrainian relations are no longer merely a matter of the past, but one of the key challenges for the future of Central and Eastern Europe. It is therefore important to defuse historical disputes, such as those concerning exhumations. It is very good that an agreement has recently been reached on this issue. Even if discussions on exhumations in the short term revive the Volyn’ issue, in the long term they will help resolve it. However, it is important to recognise - and I say this quite often to both Polish and Ukrainian partners - that at present, the key issue is not history. A major challenge lies in the broad economic matters related to Ukraine’s accession to the European Union.

We must recognise that Ukraine is not a failed state from which only unskilled workers or refugees come to Poland.

Despite the war, Ukraine has advantages in many areas that will pose a challenge to Poland when it joins the EU single market

Of course, Ukraine's accession to the EU is in Poland’s strategic interest. However, these are developments that we must be aware of, which we must closely observe and take action to prevent conflicts in these areas.

Therefore, at present, the real challenge is not the issue of the Volyn’ massacre, but rather how to adapt the common agricultural policy to the potential of Ukrainian agriculture. Naturally, it is also essential to prevent the escalation of social antagonism.

Photo: Jakub Orzechowski / Agencja Wyborcza.pl

How does Polish-Ukrainian academic cooperation appear against this background?

Today, around 9% of students at Polish universities are international, almost half of whom are Ukrainian. The academic world, in line with its longstanding European tradition, is multinational. Universities have always been places of openness and tolerance; today, they develop programmes for support, equality and diversity. These are initiatives and responsibilities undertaken by the universities themselves.

Of course, there are always areas that can be improved. I am thinking, for example, of efforts to achieve better integration within the university. It often happens that we have two or three student communities living separately – students from Poland, English-speaking students and students from the East, mainly Ukrainians and Belarusians. We are working to ensure that these two or three communities come closer together.

You are responsible for international cooperation. In Ukraine, claims are heard that Poland is «draining» its intellectual capital. This is a well-known phenomenon here too - for years, it has been said that the best Polish academics leave for the West. What does this circulation between Poland and Ukraine look like?

Before February 24th 2022, around 500 Ukrainian academics worked in Polish universities. After the outbreak of war, this number doubled. Initially, there were special support measures - help with finding housing, work, a safe place - but quite quickly we realised that a change of perspective was needed.

Our goal is not a brain drain, but a brain circulation - a circulation of knowledge, ideas and experience

This is precisely why today, as a ministry, we support projects involving researchers and institutions from both countries. Those that build a joint research space.

A concrete example of such cooperation is the project of Vasyl Stefanyk Precarpathian National University in Ivano-Frankivsk, which, together with the Centre for East European Studies, rebuilt the pre-war university observatory «White Elephant» on Mount Pip Ivan. A functioning research station was created from ruins. Now the two universities are seeking funding for a telescope, the third stage of the project. This is an example of concrete cooperation based on partnership, not asymmetry.

Another example is Mykulychyn, a village in the Ukrainian Carpathians, where a Polish-Ukrainian youth meeting centre is being built. During my recent visit there, the first meeting took place with the participation of students from several Ukrainian universities and the University of Warsaw. It is in such places - in conversations, debates, joint projects - that the next generation of mutual understanding is born.

There is a real chance that this generation will get to know each other not through stereotypes, but through experience and culture.

Yes, but much work still lies ahead. I remember a study conducted, I believe, in 2021. Poles were asked which Ukrainian authors they knew, and Ukrainians were asked which Polish authors they knew. It turned out that 95% of Poles had never read a book by a Ukrainian author - and vice versa. What followed was even more interesting. Ukrainians associated Polish authors with Sienkiewicz and Sapkowski, while Poles named Gogol and Oksana Zabuzhko among Ukrainian authors. In terms of getting to know one another, including through culture, we still have much work to do.

But it is also important not to reduce each other to a kind of ethno-folklore, because we have much more to offer one another. We are united by common aspirations and hopes. And commonality does not always arise from similarity. It also arises from the desire to coexist despite differences and wounds.

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Poland and Ukraine: we want to coexist despite differences and wounds

Joanna Mosiej

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