in kyiv and Boutcha, story of endless resistance

An icy wind sweeps through the forests north of kyiv, and autumn tears the last leaves from the beech trees along the Dnieper – Ukraine’s largest river, which has become its main natural barrier on the front opposing it to Russia. In the first light of dawn and a forest of military fatigues, Aliona’s black leather city boots contrast with the purple foliage covering the ground.

Slung over her shoulder, the mother carries a Kalashnikov which she clumsily grabs with her manicured fingertips when the instructor gives her the order. This is her first day in this volunteer air defense unit made up almost entirely of women; she does not yet have the complete equipment. His gestures are feverish, his gaze determined.

In everyday life, Aliona works as a masseuse in a wellness center not far from Boutcha, a martyr town on the outskirts of kyiv where the population suffered multiple abuses, rapes and summary executions at the beginning of the invasion (1). She recounts the state of astonishment of the inhabitants: that of yesterday, when soldiers entered the houses during the occupation; that of today, when Russian drones and missiles rocket into the skies of kyiv in search of a target to destroy or a life to take.

“We don’t sleep at night, Russia is harassing us from the sky. At least if I’m here, gun in hand, I can destroy Shahed (Iranian-made kamikaze drones used en masse by the Russian army, Editor’s note) and allow my two boys to sleep safe and sound. » According to the Ukrainian Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Russia launched 1,908 drones of this type during the month of October, an increase of more than 40% in one month. This war of psychological attrition on civilians adds to the mental and physical fatigue of the Ukrainian forces engaged in the east.

Called en masse to the Donbass front to respond to Russian advances – in October, Moscow recorded its most significant territorial gains since spring 2022 – there is a shortage of men to defend the capital. To no longer suffer the horrors of these air attacks, “the women of the community answered the call,” explains Andriy Verlaty, the commander of this brigade now nicknamed “witches of Boutcha”.

Valentyna is one of the most experienced. For four months, she has alternated three days at home and one day in the forest, shooting the sky with an old Maxim machine gun made in 1939 and boxes of ammunition flanked by the red star from the Soviet era. Her blond hair waves on her cheeks pink from the cold. “We felt powerless for too long, now we are no longer spectators of the terror. If the Russians come back, they will find us on their way, we are ready,” says this veterinarian whose unalterable smile steadfastly defies the horrors of war.

An hour from the military camp where these women scan the sky, downtown Kiev still wakes up in the same way since the 2022 invasion: every morning, at 9 a.m., Ukrainians observe a minute of silence in memory of their fallen compatriots. The coffee falls silent, Natalia places her fist on her heart and, in a firm tone, concludes these sixty seconds of daily patriotism with a “Slava Ukraini” (Glory to Ukraine). The young woman knows what happens in the army; she volunteered for more than a year. Since her withdrawal in July 2023, she has refused to discuss her military experience. The “depression” that accompanied his return remains latent. But leaving Ukraine is out of the question. “If I defended my native land, it was to have the right to stay there! »

Leading the cultural battle

It’s 10 o’clock, Natalia leaves to ensure the opening of her independent bookstore. Books are his refuge from the anxiety-provoking atmosphere. Photo report on the European aspirations of the “Orange Revolution” of 2004, account of the impact of the war on Ukrainian children, review of the Kiev music scene, history book on the Holodomor – the great famine perpetrated in Ukraine by the Soviets between 1932 and 1933 – its shelves exude the spirit of resistance. Each book read and shared, whether written in Ukrainian, English or even French – never in Russian – is ammunition in “the cultural battle” that Natalia is waging against Kremlin propaganda. “It is our identity that Putin wants to abolish, but as long as our culture lives, he will not win. »

In kyiv, this war of symbols is exacerbated in the military ceremonies organized several times a week. Under its august golden domes and sky blue walls, the Saint-Michel Orthodox monastery hosts the funerals of two young soldiers. Engaged since 2022, they were known figures of Ukrainian nationalism since the Maidan revolution in 2014. “Where it all began,” says one of their brothers in arms who came to pay tribute to them. The young man refers to the start of the war in Donbass. “If it is true that we, Europeans, have been interested in this war since 2022, the Ukrainians have been living it on a daily basis for more than ten years,” recalls Anna Colin Lebedev, political scientist, specialist in post-Soviet societies.

Trumpets and drums sing the national anthem, and soldiers carry on their shoulders the coffin covered with two flags with wide horizontal bands. One, blue and yellow, in the colors of the country; the other, red and black, in reference to the Ukrainian insurgent army. This armed branch of the nationalists led by Stepan Bandera is criticized for having sworn loyalty to the Third Reich and having carried out massacres of Jews and Poles. In 2024, its colors symbolize the resistance of the Ukrainian people in the face of Russian imperialism, but the attack force also fuels the rhetoric of a “Russia liberating Ukraine from the Nazis”, used excessively by Vladimir Putin to justify his war.

Although warlike patriotism is omnipresent in the daily lives of Ukrainians, military engagement is running out of steam. A thousand days after the Russian invasion began, the lines of thousands of volunteers streaming into army recruiting centers had evaporated. Although martial law prohibits able-bodied men aged 18 to 60 from leaving the national territory, around 650,000 of them are believed to have fled the country since the start of the conflict. On the front, Ukraine lacks men to rotate and rest its soldiers. “Too often, the ticket to the front is a one-way ticket,” laments Tim, a special forces veteran with an amputated left leg. Bitter, he believes that “the only way to return is to be either injured or dead”, and that this reality explains the demobilization which is hitting the country.

An urgent need for men

“As in all long conflicts, war penetrates deep into society and, inevitably, a gap develops between the soldiers on the front line and the men in the rear,” notes Ioulia Shukan, sociologist specializing in post-societies. Vietic. The soldiers believe that life in the rest of the country is too peaceful compared to their sacrifice. »

But not agreeing to take up arms does not mean that you do not support your country’s war effort. In the western suburbs of kyiv, around ten young people, both rockers and engineers, embody a modern version of the “ammunitions” of the First World War. Over the past year, they have reconverted into drone assemblers for the army. In the basement of an abandoned factory where they have taken up residence, Slava, Ruslan and the other kingpins of the resistance work night and day, soldering iron in hand and 3D printer on their workbenches, to manufacture these flying machines remotely controlled, essential to the military success of the brigades of “their brother soldiers”. “We have too many friends there to have time to get depressed,” Slava says. As long as my anger against the Russians does not dry up, my ingenuity is useful to the country, that’s all that matters. » As sophisticated as they are, drones are no longer enough. To resist Russian assaults, Ukraine needs men. Stuck on a front extending over more than 1,100 km between the Kharkiv oblast in the north and that of Kherson in the south, the authorities are raising their voice. In May 2024, the legal age for mobilization rose from 27 to 25, and the pace of recruitment accelerated. Gathered in a downtown restaurant, a group of friends discuss the announcement made the day before by the National Security and Defense Council. In order to replenish the ranks of its army, kyiv will mobilize “at least 160,000 additional soldiers” within three months. “Ukraine is fighting for its freedom, but we are no longer free to move in our own country,” says Andriy, a philosophy graduate, with bitterness. Around a bowl of borscht – a reddish beetroot soup – this handful of thirty-somethings deplore the violence of recruiters, the lack of quality training for new soldiers and the corruption which plagues the army bureaucracy.

Start negotiations

If President Volodymyr Zelensky retains the confidence of 59% of his population, 57% of Ukrainians now believe that their country should “start negotiations with Russia to try to achieve peace (2)”. Even if not everyone agrees on the terms of the agreement. In kyiv, like every evening, the warning sirens announcing an air attack continue to sound. Andriy and his friends pay no attention to it. In the heart of the Boutcha forest where Valentyna and the other protectors of the sky peer into the darkness, night has set in. In the sights of the fighters, birds of misfortune from Russia.

1. The International Criminal Court has opened an investigation into war crimes committed in Ukraine and, since March 17, 2023, Vladimir Putin has been the subject of an international arrest warrant.
2. According to a survey by the Kyiv International Institute of Sociology, dated May 2024.