Pain, death and nation-building
In the final hours before the Russian onslaught, a last grasp at peace. Russian troops would soon pour across Ukraine's borders and Russian missiles would fill Ukrainian skies, taking Ukrainian lives in the biggest air, sea and ground assault in Europe since World War II. But Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy still appealed, on war's brink, for reason to prevail.
Staring intently into the camera in a last-ditch, dead-of-night, video-recorded plea against the invasion, Zelenskyy warned Russia that the consequences would be “an abundance of pain, filth, blood and death.”
“War is a huge calamity,” Zelenskyy said, in what proved to be one of his last outings in a suit before his switch to military-style casual wear. “This calamity carries a huge cost — in every meaning of this word.”
The date was Feb. 24, 2022 — cataclysmic for Ukraine, course-changing for Russia, history-shaping for the wider world. Every hour of every day since has proven those words to be right.
As milestones go, the invasion's first anniversary Friday is both grim and vexing. It marks a full year of killing, destruction, loss and pain felt even beyond the borders of Russia and Ukraine — with warrelated price shocks being just one example.
But it also raises a question that is unsatisfying because it can't be answered at this partway point: How much longer until this stops?
“Not soon enough” might be one response, although any peace deal looks far off as Russia's invasion force meat-grinds into Year Two, with neither side close to reaching hoped-for objectives.
The misery of 365 days of bloodshed and the full
scale of the global repercussions are difficult to sum up with mere words. Russia is more isolated than at any time since the Cold War. Western nations are banding together for Russian President Vladimir Putin's defeat while also gambling that the ex-KGB spy won't go nuclear. China is filing away lessons that could be used against Taiwan.
And how to measure all the tears? How to adequately describe all the suffering and atrocities? Or even the broken heart of just one child who has lost loved ones and futures?
The numbers are dizzying: hundreds of thousands of Russian men escaping abroad to avoid being thrown into battle, millions of Ukrainians uprooted from their homes, tens of billions of dollars poured into weaponry that is making war more lethal, trillions more dollars estimated lost for the global economy. Even those figures don't do justice to the human and economic costs.
Of the body count — surely the most important tally, but kept under wraps by both sides — all that can be said with certainty is
that it is horrific. Western officials estimate it to be in the many tens of thousands and growing inexorably.
But Ukraine is still here. That in itself is a stinging defeat for the Kremlin. Putin seemingly believed his forces and secret services would have turned Ukraine into a puppet state by now. The invasion plan called for resistant Ukrainian officials to be liquidated, weeded out or flipped into collaborating, according to a British think tank's study based in part on captured Russian documents.
Instead, the threat of extinction as a free nation is pushing Ukraine into a closer orbit with the European Union, the United States and the wider West — the very outcome Putin wanted to avoid. Each additional delivery of NATOstandard weapons, the billions of dollars in other Western aid, and pledges to stand with Ukraine for “as long as it takes” are hard-wiring bonds that, in peacetime, might have taken many more years to build.
Ukraine, independent from the ex-Soviet Union only since 1991, has also grown in war as a nation.
Fighting to remain Ukrainian has forced clarity about what exactly that means, sharpening the contours of national identity.
In what have become daily video addresses to share news from the fronts and boost morale, Zelenskyy sometimes wears black hoodies emblazoned on the front with the words, “I'm Ukrainian.”
Many more Ukrainians have joined the president in ditching Russian for Ukrainian as their primary language. Statues of Russians are also being torn down, street names are being changed and Russian history is being expunged from school textbooks.
Says Olena Sotnyk, a lawyer and former legislator: “Putin did for us something which nobody did. He helped us to become a free nation.”
Abroad, too, Ukraine has won hearts and minds, evidenced by the blue-and-yellow flags flying from town halls and the foreign fighters and aid workers risking — and sometimes losing — their lives on Ukrainian battlefields pounded by shellfire into hellscapes hauntingly reminiscent of World War I.