26.06.2024 / Returning

I'm back.

Kyiv is verdant. The weather's been perfect. The city streets are a-bustle with people. And here I was anxious about readapting to living with power outages, missile attacks, amidst my people who've been the target of russia's military assault for over 850 days straight. The sun glints off the white and gold buildings of Pecherska Lavra across the river.

Ukrainians are struggling (though they don’t like to show it). I see it in the details.

At the grocery store I look for my favorite sweet rolls, sold in packages of two. Over time I've watched their size and quality diminish, while the price creeps upward—gradually, so the change is barely perceptible. The package costs the same as it did three months ago. Only now it contains one roll.

On the radio I hear an ad for a home security company. When you sign up for their services you get a free gift—a special plastic coating for your windows that reduces the risk of injury from shattering glass during an explosion.

I sleep soundly in my own bed in my familiar room—right through the nighttime air raid.

In early summer the day breaks at 5 AM and dusk falls around 10 PM; the temperature is not yet oppressively hot. It's hard to complain about the daily periodic power cuts that last a couple hours at a time. Go outside for a stroll or a swim.

But the nasty noise and exhaust from the generators!

Outside, women parade their summer dresses. Teenagers consort in groups and pairs. People gather on the riverside beach, swim, and cast their fishing lines from the bank. But my eye catches on something I'm not used to seeing: young, healthy-looking men walking with a cane or gazing at the water from a wheelchair.

***

I meet James Hodson, who is visiting from the US, for dinner. He and his wife, Anastassia Fedyk, have done much to help Ukraine since we first connected in spring 2022. Their efforts include providing civilians with necessary items like powerbanks; supporting Ukrainian defense initiatives; setting up humanitarian aid centers in several cities; and participating in important discussions about the country's rebuilding strategy.

Foreign investors should direct their resources to cities in Ukraine's east, says James, instead of concentrating their investments in the country's western regions. He's just come back from Kharkiv, which russia has been bombarding relentlessly for the past two years and four months. In June alone, russia has sent some 700 guided bombs toward Ukraine's second largest city, which has the misfortune of being located 30 km (20 miles) from the border with its bloodthirsty neighbor.

Pouring investments into a place under constant attack seems to defy common sense. If you follow the logic of seeking perpetual economic growth in terms of profits and returns, shouldn't you invest in places where conditions are more stable and predictable? Nobody can guarantee that your enterprise or employees in Kharkiv will be safe from attack. russia even targets book printing facilities.

But the people of Kharkiv, tough as nails, keep demonstrating their commitment to defending their city within independent Ukraine. After every airstrike, municipal cleaning brigades quickly begin clearing away the debris. In the morning the city's massive central square rings with the public recitation of the names of Kharkivans who gave their lives for Ukraine's freedom, followed by the national anthem. People stop and stand in solemn respect.

I remember the young, pregnant woman I met in March on the train to Poland. Heading to Europe to give birth to her baby, she was already planning her return to Kharkiv. I thought that was crazy. But we see that wild commitment to living fully in one's home city in the zoo that's still working, in the freshly planted flowerbeds in the city center, and in the cultural events that sustain Kharkiv's vitality through russia’s destructive campaigns.

Isn't that spirited human enterprise worth investing in?

Imagine a scenario where you decide to bolster the growth of businesses and cities in western Ukraine, creating jobs and housing to draw Ukrainians from their embattled home cities in the east. Who will keep those cities alive? How will those that remain survive amidst growing devastation and dwindling resources? At what point will it seem like there is little left that is worth defending?

Investing exclusively in Ukraine's west and encouraging Ukrainians to follow the money is laying the ground for an eventual partial capitulation, for ceding territory to russia: it's preparing Ukraine for life as an amputee.

Investing in Kharkiv means investing in Ukraine's capacity to emerge from this war intact and alive.

You will have to face the same hardships and challenges that the residents of Kharkiv face each day. You will need ingenuity to survive and to protect what you are building in this city. Air defense, securing the border, disabling russia's capacity to launch missiles from just across the border—these issues will instantly become real when the lives and safety of your employees and your business (and your potential profits) are at stake.

Investing in Kharkiv, and thus in all of Ukraine, means accepting, with a cool head and warm heart, that there are things—and people—that you don't just throw away.

I've been away for a long time. In the US in April and May I had 11 book presentations (+1 via zoom), 2 talks with students, 4 podcasts, and 2 readings in NYC bars. It was an honor and a pleasure to join numerous bright colleagues in sharing my story and admiration of how Ukrainians have been defending their political nation with curious, engaged audiences. Each presentation was different from the next. You'll find links to recordings of some of these conversations here: https://akindofrefugee2022.substack.com/p/a-kind-of-refugee-book-tour-2024

It was overambitious to expect that between the intensity of planning, organizing, promoting, and participating in these events, I would manage to compose coherent reflections on those discussions here. Today, rested and nourished by my time spent abroad, I wish to return to some of the thought-provoking encounters and insights I had in the States this spring.

It is the writer's prerogative to take time out of its natural rhythms and sequence to create a new space for thinking. Let me risk making a commitment to revisit those 11 book presentations this summer on a Kind of Refugee while situating my remembering here in Ukraine, 2024, in the 11th summer of war against russia's invasion—and the third of world-destabilizing intensity.

PS The efforts of individuals working in parallel to (or in loose cooperation with) Ukrainian government structures are still critically important in sustaining Ukraine’s defense and helping civilians survive under russia's ceaseless attack. Through the platforms AI for Good and Economists for Ukraine, James Hodson and Anastassia Fedyk are directing individual resources toward meeting Ukrainians' vital needs. You can contribute to a few of their initiatives here: https://ai4good.org/ukraine/