Impressions From A City At War
Colin Turbett
Colin will be giving a visual presentation of his stay in Ukraine on Wednesday 22nd May 7.00pm on Zoom. You can find out more and book a ticket here: Kharkiv - Eyewitness Report - Colin Turbett & Ivanna Khrapko Tickets, Wed, May 22, 2024 at 7:00 PM | Eventbrite
Most Common Weal supporters will instinctively believe that a nation should have a right to self-determination and will have sympathy with the people of Ukraine, whose eastern neighbour sees things somewhat differently having launched a full-scale military invasion two years ago. This met worldwide condemnation from governments and a popular welcome to the refugees who arrived in our communities escaping the war. That was over two years ago, and Ukraine is no longer a headline item despite the continuation and escalation of Russian aggression. Under these circumstances Ukrainians have had two choices – capitulate in the name of an end to fighting or resist to secure freedom and the hope of lasting peace. The territories that have been occupied have suffered oppression of every form – arrests and deaths, the kidnap of children, the suppression of culture, and forced Russification. Understandably many Ukrainians continue to flee abroad to safety.All this formed the backdrop to my recent visit to Kharkiv to meet with trade unionists, social work colleagues, community activists and ordinary residents. This unique experience was facilitated by friendships made prior to the war, and through the solidarity movement being built in the UK including here in Scotland. The city nearly fell in March 2022, but the invaders were thrown back to their own nearby border and life was picking up again. People began to return from safer areas. Now that is changing again as this city of over one million, faces daily missile attacks, some targeted on infrastructure like power supplies, and others randomly landing on residential areas and civil buildings.Whilst life on the streets looks superficially the same as anywhere, with people shopping, going about their business, and children playing in the parks outside school hours – in reality it is anything but normal. Air raid sirens go off constantly but are largely ignored as they only respond to activity detected over the border, rather than actual attack. As it takes seconds for a missile launched from Russia to land in the city, there is no real warning. The city has no air defences – a fact that seems incredible. People live in a constant state of anxiety and every household has a grab bag of essentials ready in the event of a need to evacuate in a hurry; other adaptations have become normal: large gatherings are discouraged unless underground and this includes bringing children together for school; students in the many universities are taught entirely now online – some from as far away as the UK. Power cuts to conserve the supply are regular and the city is often humming with diesel generators outside shops and offices.Despite all these problems Kharkiv is scrupulously clean – a fact the people take real pride in, and bomb damage is quickly cleared as much as possible although there are no funds to repair the many damaged buildings. The metro system (which provides shelter) is free, as are the trams and many of the buses and trolley buses. When I was in the city centre on a sunny Sunday afternoon, people were flocking to a newly blossomed magnolia tree for “selfies”. It seemed incongruous but represented the spirit I found in Kharkiv: despite the fear and weariness, people are still looking for hope – my friends told me it was all they could believe in just now, and even then, they could not look much further forward than the next day.With a steady haemorrhaging of people leaving the city for safer areas, services are stretched – especially when there is so much need. Kharkiv hosts 120,000 refugees from the occupied areas and “grey zones” – the places where active fighting is taking place. However social services are well organised and innovative – we could learn much from workers in the district office I visited. With mobile phones important tools for alerting people to immediate danger as well as accessing help and financial benefits, older and vulnerable people are offered classes in smart phone use – and given devices for free.The voluntary sector has emerged informally at community level to provide support and meet essential need. The activists I met were truly inspirational – creative in the help provided within their localities (and beyond to the grey zones), and with an adaptation to wartime conditions and problems that gave them some pride in themselves. One example: the City Farm’s animals now provide therapy to soldiers recovering from wounds and terrible experiences, as well as children who have also suffered through the war: the sight of horses, goats and other animals in the midst of dense high-rise flats (where most of the people of Kharkiv live) seemed odd but has been a feature of life there since 1935.So how do the people I met see their situation? They want peace but not one imposed upon them by the invader (Russian speaking Kharkiv is seen by Putin and his followers as belonging to them), and they want our help – that aid, they all told me, must include the arms their forces need to defend their communities and push the invader back to the border. Such assistance, I could see, is an urgent need as the Russians again seem to be making gains.I left Ukraine on a night train to Warsaw from Kyiv (500kms east of Kharkiv) that was packed with women and children: a sad experience as I watched loved ones say their farewells at the station. I come home to Scotland with worry for the people I met whose homes are in a warzone; they remain determined to stay until that becomes absolutely impossible and they deserve our support to give them more hope than they have at present.