When the symbols of Ukrainian resistance fade | russia-ukraine war

Ukraine, a country whose sociological development reflects a blend of modern and traditional values, has always had a weakness for symbols. We have mastered the art of finding meaning where perhaps there is none, of seeing more than reality.

And then the war with Russia gifted us with a whole host of new images: a Ukrainian tractor embodied the heroism of peasants to drive away a Russian tank, while a kitchen cupboard embodied the wall of a devastated building. But it was intact, which became a symbol of invincibility.

Then we had the collective figure of our fighter pilots, known as the “Ghost of Kiev”, the Russian battleship Moskva, sunk by a stealth Ukrainian operation, and a shrapnel-pierced bust of the Ukrainian poet Taras Shevchenko, a small Was discovered in a small town in the city from. Kyiv, just to name a few. At one time, they all seemed so important, so comforting in their ability to infuse the predictable outcomes of war with a deeper meaning.

The first spring of full-scale war intoxicated us with a desperate desire to be strong and indestructible. Everything became symbolic, from socks in blue and yellow colors to the traditional braids of a girl inspecting car trunks at a checkpoint. The smallest details were reimagined as an aesthetics of resistance, filling us with confidence in our strength and invincibility. We created memes and invented symbols that we could incorporate into our cultural code. We thought all this would save us. It probably did.

But all symbols have one thing in common – they die over time. As people hold on to them, believe in them and live by them.

The heroics of spring 2022 were followed by summer, autumn and winter. At some point, the terrible realization dawned that we were in this for the long haul. There is a huge amount of work, pain, suffering and loss among us. We will lose loved ones, we will bury poets and filmmakers, we will mourn, then perhaps argue, and, finally, we will die. Not all of us. But some of us.

Roulette Spin – Red or Black, Life or Death. You never know when the next missile will strike and which one will be buried under the debris. And you can’t calculate the trajectory of Russian rockets to take shelter in time. It is a long game of survival.

We did not even notice when the symbols began to fade, lost their importance and attractiveness. A tractor towing a tank? Give it a rest… Now we speak about generators, blackouts and FPV drones, which are essential on an industrial scale. A wardrobe on one wall? It’s just a cupboard on one wall. By mid-2024, Russia had destroyed or damaged more than 250,000 buildings. Each one had a wardrobe – several, in fact. We are tired of gazing into the innards of slanted apartments.

The ghost of Kyiv? We have buried so many extraordinary pilots who were living, breathing icons. Battleship Moskva? Over the past three years, we have sunk a third of the Black Sea Fleet of the Russian Federation, the rest have been driven out of the Black Sea under threat to our military capabilities.

As for me, I had some favorite symbols – or rather totems – of my own. I acquired one of them when the first missiles flew towards Kiev on a February night. It appeared in 2015, when I first took up arms to defend the territorial integrity of my country in the East.

Before leaving for the military training facility, I bought a metal mug with oranges painted on it in a Kiev shopping center. I grew to love that mug and foolishly carried it with me everywhere, turning it into a fetish and imbuing it with special meaning.

It stayed with me over the 14 months I served in 2015-16, 10 of which were spent on the front lines. It served me as no other thing had ever served me before. Later, back in civilian life, I took it with me to the mountains, into the woods. For a long time, it served me in the studio where I worked as an artist.

And, of course, in early March 2022, I took it with me to the army. I told my brothers-in-arms stories about it, explaining its importance. My fellow soldiers knew how important this mug was and how important we were together, which is why, when we moved to a new position and I couldn’t find it, the entire unit searched for it – for the mug that was The mug was so important to their commander.

In late spring 2023, when Bakhmut, who suffered one of the bloodiest battles of this large-scale war, was finally put to death and our troops were shaken, shell-shocked and spent, Withdrawn, my unit was thrown in as cover to distract. Russian forces leaving the city. We spent several days under constant fire, with no possibility of reinforcements or of leaving the trenches which were rebuilt with corpses.

When the order came to retreat, I left everything that could weigh me down, as we faced a grueling run over several kilometers under enemy bombardment and drones. In that trench, strewn with the bodies of our soldiers and literally under fire, I left my mug behind. My own symbol of invincibility, my trusty totem, a legacy my children will never inherit.

it was a shame. But the fractional increase in my chances of survival was more significant. My life was more important to me than some common household object, no matter how much symbolism I put into it.

When drunkenness sets in and heroism becomes routine the symbols die down. Fatigue has blurred the line between horror and habit. Over the past 18 months, it seems not a single new symbol has emerged. The number of memes and topical cartoons has declined drastically.

We are finally tired of this military enthusiasm, just as we are tired of this endless war. We are also tired of ourselves. And that’s not a bad thing. People cannot live in a constant state of turmoil. We have become practical and rational. We are the only symbols we have.

Every person who remains unwavering, who works and contributes, who holds the front lines with every last ounce of strength, who donates every last penny to buy drones and off-road vehicles, who lives around the world. The source of medical equipment, who tries to live his life despite everything. We are symbols: worn like old winter coats, but real.

We are people who just survive and fight.

This text was written within a joint initiative of UkraineWorld, the Ukrainian Institute and PEN Ukraine. It was translated by Helena Kernan.

The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect the editorial stance of Al Jazeera.