«Щоб нас не оглядали на блокпостах, я діяв як детектив», — поліцейський із «20 днів у Маріуполі»

After photographer Evgeniy Maloletka, videographer Mstyslav Chernov and fixer Vasylysa Stepanenko managed to escape the Russian-encircled Mariupol in mid-March 2022, their footage from the first 20 days of the occupation caused a massive global reaction.

Today, Evgeniy Maloletka holds more international and national awards than any other Ukrainian photographer - around 40. Notably, he is a Pulitzer Prize laureate for Public Service, a recipient of the James Foley Award for Conflict Reporting, and the Shevchenko and Georgiy Gongadze national prizes. He also won an Oscar for the documentary «20 Days in Mariupol». We spoke with Evgeniy about the feelings of futility when facing human indifference, the people who helped him escape from occupation, his ambitions to make it into history books and the strategies he uses to avoid burnout.

«Camera does not protect you»

Kseniya Minchuk: How did you start photographing the war?

Evgeniy Maloletka: Although I have a degree in electronic devices and systems engineering, photography captivated me during my student years. I worked for several editorial offices. In 2010, I went to cover the protests in Belarus. After that, I documented both sides of our revolution: the protests for and against Yanukovych, and then Maidan. I worked in conflict zones around the world, including various UN missions in Africa. Eventually, I found myself on the train that brought me to the war.

I am originally from Berdyansk. When I looked at the map and saw Russia intensifying its actions, I realised that a full-scale war was inevitable. And when you understand that something terrible, like war, is about to happen, you ask yourself: «Where do I want to be, and what do I want to do? Where do I need to be to make that happen?» Although when that «terrible» thing arrives, plans can break. But at the very least, you should be technically prepared, which is what I did.

From there, the most important thing is your knowledge and your ability to adapt quickly. The more you know and the faster you react, the more you can accomplish.

- One of the most heart-wrenching photos by Evgeniy Maloletka, and of the war in general, is the series from Mariupol where young parents rush to the hospital with their injured baby, only to learn that the child has died. It is unimaginably devastating. How do you cope with the pain you witness and capture with your camera? Is photography itself a method?

- Definitely not. The camera does not protect you. You keep looking at these people in the photos and you go through it with them. The faces of the parents, and later the doctors - you see the hope fade from their eyes... and that pain never leaves you, it stays with you forever. I live with it. Constantly. I had to learn how to coexist with it.

The footage from «20 Days in Mariupol» - is the pain that will stay with me for the rest of my life. I saw it live. I have rewatched the film many times, and now I do not cry anymore. But inside, the emotions are still incredibly heavy and intense.

For me, every photo of the war is the most terrifying. They are like flashbacks, like a dream. Like something that happened to someone else. But no - it happened to me.

I am constantly confronted with grief. I have to edit, show it to the world, look at the photos of other photographers. Human bodies, destroyed buildings, lives taken. These emotions are overwhelming. And there is still so much more horror I will have to capture.

Sometimes the things you did not capture are more terrifying

What keeps me going is the awareness that I am doing a small, yet important job. Hoping that it is not in vain. That the world will see it, remember it, because every photograph represents a human story. And it is crucial that we ourselves do not forget our own history. That is why I keep doing it.

- You have documented the protests against Yanukovych that led to his removal, the pandemic and now the war. Do you see your work as an important mission?

- Sometimes it is disappointing when photos get little attention. But other times, a story I captured goes viral. The more you work and the more your photos are seen and elicit a reaction, the stronger the sense that it is not in vain.

At least, I hope it is not.

I understand that only the things we remember will remain in history

We will remember people’s stories through the photos and videos that moved us. Only a small part of what has happened during this war will make it into history.

I hope the work we are doing will end up in books and textbooks so future generations can learn what our people went through and understand what war really is.

- Do you feel any satisfaction from what you do?

- That is a tough question. Yes and no. Because I photograph horrifying things that people do not want to see. And you force them to look. People, especially outside Ukraine, in Europe for example, mostly want to see positive things. Even here, we tend to think like that. If the strike hit the house next door and not ours - thank God! But in that neighbouring house, people died...

- Have there been moments when you could not bring yourself to photograph what was happening?

- Of course. There were times when I put the camera down and helped because no one else was around. If you see that you can help in some way, you do it.

«We went through 16 Russian checkpoints, and they let us through each one»

- You arrived in Mariupol an hour before the war started. Did you understand what you were getting into?

- Yes. It is impossible to predict every detail, but Mstyslav Chernov, Vasylysa Stepanenko and I knew that the city would likely be encircled. We went to Mariupol deliberately, to be surrounded. Consciously.

Of course, it was terrifying. We travelled at night, and it was eerily quiet and tense. We prepared for various scenarios and even joked that we were heading to the city that would become one of the starting points of World War III...

- How often were you under fire in Mariupol?

- Constantly. I would wake up in the morning at the hotel and go outside to film the building across the street because it had just been destroyed. There was no need to travel anywhere.

- You worked without electricity, water, the internet, and under constant danger. What decisions saved your lives?

- We were lucky in many ways, but some specific decisions and people truly saved our lives. There were tough moments when we barely escaped from areas that the occupiers had already surrounded.

For a while, we lived in a hospital that sheltered us. We became friends with the doctors, sleeping in the corridors where everyone had moved to avoid the shelling, and when necessary, we helped carry stretchers with the wounded. Then the building next to us was taken by the Russians. Tanks rolled out onto the streets. Their forces advanced, and aircraft were deployed. Street fighting raged around the hospital, and we were inside. Then our military came for us and said, «Pack up, we are running». And we ran with them. That saved us.

Another instance was when we finally got out of the encircled area, but I lost my car - it was destroyed. A police officer named Volodymyr offered to drive us out of Mariupol. He risked his life and the lives of his family to take us in his car, even though we had met just two days earlier.

His car was shot up, the windows were gone, but it was still drivable. He, his wife, and their child took the three of us (myself, Vasylysa, and Mstyslav) into their vehicle. And that is how we got out.

- Vasylysa told me this story, and I still can not grasp how you managed to pull it off…

- We passed through 15 or 16 Russian checkpoints, and at each one, they let us through. The occupiers had only just begun implementing their filtration process. Perhaps it helped that we did not take the same route as others. The truth is, you never know exactly what saved you. But if the Russians had found the footage we shot or realised we were Ukrainian journalists, we all would have suffered - us, and Volodymyr with his family.

One warrior does not make a battle

- There is a concept known as «survivor’s guilt», a feeling often experienced by those who fled the war and went abroad. Did you feel something similar when you escaped Mariupol?

- We thought about why we could not stay longer, especially because we did not capture the events at the drama theatre, where so many people died... But the fact that we survived at all - that is a miracle.

- Vasylysa mentioned her fear of going to Mariupol, and that your and Mstyslav’s confidence inspired her. Is it easier to work in a team or alone?

- There is a saying, «One warrior does not make a battle». I am convinced of that. In difficult circumstances, you need to be with people you trust, who are on the same wavelength as you.

If, God forbid, you get injured, you need to have your people by your side, who know what to do. Mstyslav had significant experience working in war zones, and I had some experience in our own war.

In the summer of 2021, I took a course in first aid. I already knew how to apply tourniquets and do other essential things, but refreshing those skills is critical when you live in a country at war. Life taught me how to act during shellings.

Vasylysa and I started working together about a month before the full-scale invasion. Before Mariupol, we actually tried to talk her out of going. But she made her choice because she wanted to be with us. She took the risk. She is brave.

- Who inspires you?

- Mstyslav, Vasylysa and I inspire each other. But above all, I am inspired by our people.

Ukrainians are incredibly strong. They have suffered so much from the war, but they do not give up. I often see soldiers who have been wounded but have not lost their immense life potential and energy. For example, there is a soldier who underwent about 60 surgeries and had both limbs amputated. He says: «It’s nothing. I have my whole life ahead of me». He is undergoing rehabilitation and can now walk up the stairs by himself. His goal is to «get his two kids on their feet». How can you not be inspired by that?

My grandmother worked until she was 82, until her last day. She was an engineer and had been disabled since childhood due to polio. Despite having a severe disability, she went to work every day. It was hard for her to climb to the third floor, but she did it. She always said that you can not just sit or lie down, that you have to keep moving. After the full-scale invasion began, my parents had to leave their home and became internally displaced. But my father did not fall into depression or anything like that. Even at over 60, he continues to work.

I do not want to sound pretentious, but what is the point of life if you are only doing everything for yourself? I realise that in war, it is those who care who show up. And I never want to stop caring

For me, it is important not to stand aside. To take part in something that matters.

It is also crucial not to burn out. We are in the middle of a long marathon, and we need to maintain the pace to make it to the end - without losing strength or the sense of why we are doing it.

- But how? What helps you with that?

- It is a difficult period right now. I try not only to photograph but also to help my colleagues, especially young talented photographers, develop. That inspires me too.

- Are there any photographs that make you feel joyful and happy?

- Of course. I love taking pictures of my son. Watching him grow, mature and just seeing how cool he is.

- What can each of us do to help achieve victory?

- We should all do what we do best. Every day. How else? Some people fight, some make drones, others protest abroad, and we do journalism. It all matters. Every action. Every person.

I lie on a couch in a small kitchen somewhere in Warsaw, enjoying the aromas - onions, beetroots, carrots and tomatoes are quietly simmering in the pan. Such is the smell of the prospect of being fed borsch.

My friend is cozily bustling by the stove while I exhale my fatigue after an early flight from Paris. It is still 5 hours until my train to Kyiv, and I stopped by with a bottle of wine and a bag of sweets (there are also two little fans of Haribo gummy bears in this house). In return, I received coffee with treats, plenty of conversation and an unexpected homely feeling of comfort you only find at your mom’s or your other closest ones’ places, where you can visit without any formalities and shamelessly sprawl on the couch while lunch is being prepared.

Why have I not taken advantage of this great offer before? - I think to myself. After all, I fly often, and the opportunity to visit someone I know for coffee in a foreign city is a big help. However, this also concerns unfamiliar people.

I remember writing a Facebook post once asking if anyone was willing to let me in to take a shower at their place in Warsaw. I then received dozens of warm invitations, mostly from Ukrainian women I did not know. Well, now I actually do have a place to drink coffee and shower in almost every Polish or European city.

This is also a mark of our new reality: there are many Ukrainian women scattered around the world as of late, and the majority (at least, those whom I know personally) yearn for the opportunity to see each other, talk face to face and envelop their kin in their kindness.

My thoughts are interrupted by a joyful girl hopping into the kitchen on one foot. She is wearing a cast on her second leg, though she does not seem bothered by this problem at all. «Mom, you promised us lody (ice cream in Polish)!» Over two years of this family's life in Poland is evident in the way this girl and her brother communicate in a tender mix of Ukrainian and Polish words.

«Yes-yes, we’re going now», - my friend agrees, and like a multi-armed Indian goddess, she manages to simultaneously tend to her borsch, prepare the temporarily rented stroller, help her daughter get dressed for the walk - all with such ease that I’m candidly amazed by her.

- It’s the antidepressants, - she laughs. - You know, things have brightened up lately. I even realised I don’t yell at the kids anymore. At all! Can you imagine?

And so, I will spend a couple more hours in this house, observing this family’s life. Of course, my observations will be shallow and incomplete, the tip of the iceberg, so to speak, and even so I will still be able to experience many things.

«You know, I rarely even allow myself to have a glass of wine over here, - my friend says, placing the wine bottle I brought on the top shelf. - Just the other day, we had this broken leg from a bicycle accident… Ugh, what a nightmare it was. And I realised once again that I can't afford to relax even for a moment. Injuries and things like that always happen unexpectedly.»

How can I afford a moment of weakness or an unclear conscience if I am the only one responsible for the children here? I am the only adult here, you understand?

I’m not sure if I do understand, as I have never been in her place. And even though there were times in my life when my husband was on the frontlines, and I would end up being the only adult taking care of our son, my closest relatives and friends would still be beside me - what’s there to say - when you are home, even the walls seem to help.

While I can only wonder about what the displaced people have been through. The possibility of such an experience has always terrified me more than any attacks on Kyiv. But I would never ask my friend if she would consider going back to Ukraine while the war is still going on. I have never been in her shoes, I do not know all the circumstances. I do not bring up such subjects while talking to my friends who have fled abroad. Still, though, they always start discussing it first.

«I feel like I’m suspended between worlds, - my friend tells me. - I don’t want to put down roots in Poland, to build my life here. I want to go home more than anything. But...» Yes, there are plenty of these bitter «buts» in her life. This woman is divorced and is raising her children mostly on her own, she does not have a place to live in Kyiv, and the money for rent is scarce, as it is hard to find a job back home with her specific profession. And she has found a job here, in Poland. Not the one she’s dreamed of but she gets paid. And the kids have been going to school for two years already, learning the language and finding friends.

My friend’s son, who’s been diagnosed with Asperger’s syndrome, was fortunate with his school - he fits in well, which is very important. Her daughter enjoys going to various clubs, which are free here. And most importantly - the war in Ukraine is not over yet.

- However I constantly feel as if I’m doing the splits between two realities

«And the feeling of this perpetuating impermanence, and simultaneously of persistent root spreading in a country where I don’t plan to live simply destroys me. - she confesses, pouring odorous borch on my plate. - Even though I want to come home badly, I cannot bring myself to start the process of returning just yet».

Changed identities

Suddenly, I’m overtaken by a déjà vu, as I recently had the same conversation, and I was being fed the same delicious borsch in Vilnius. However, my friend's situation there is even more acute: she is a single mother of many children, and their home in eastern Ukraine is in a war zone. There is no way to return right now, and will there ever be any?

It’s difficult for her to keep her head above water in another country: her family does not receive any special support from Lithuania, and she’s paying for rent herself, which basically completely consumes her modest salary and her first-year student daughter’s scholarship. Her younger children study in school, catching up to their local classmates in performance, and her youngest daughter has adapted to the kindergarten’s environment so well that you can hardly tell which language is her first - Lithuanian or Ukrainian…

This friend of mine, a mother of five, has acquired a completely new profession abroad as a trolley bus driver. This responsibility terrified her at first, she even lost 10 kilograms during her first months on the job, but she has gotten around to it.

«What I’m grateful for, among other things, is that Lithuanians give forced migrants the opportunity to study for free. Yes, I have to pay back the money invested in me during my first 6 months on the job but I find it fair. I’m considering learning to become a bus driver as well. Not every Ukrainian city has trolley buses…»

This painful topic hangs between us.

My friend keeps on stubbornly planning her future in Ukraine, but right now, all her unanswered questions seem too resemblant to open wounds

Will their house in the Donetsk region still be around if their town is under constant fire right now? And if not, which Ukrainian city is ready to take in such a large family? How are they supposed to rebuild their life there once the war ends? And most importantly, - when will it end?!

As there is also the following problem: my friend and at least one of her sons have a strong reaction to shellings, having lived through the first difficult years of the war in their town. Unlike many Ukrainians, they have not adapted and have not learned to deal with their fear.

There are too many painful questions and too few hints on their possible answers. But my friend is so wistful of her home and talks about it so much… And not just home as a place to live - home in a much broader sense.

«I’m so worried for our nation’s future, - she says to me with an apparent aching. - Our greatest men die on the battlefield, meanwhile so many women have gone abroad with their children».

I listen and look at her with wonder because when I first met this woman, the questions regarding the Ukrainian nation’s fate seemed quite foreign to her, and the Ukrainian language and culture were exotic. Now everything’s changed. War, upheaval and new existential experiences are reshaping our identities, and each of us has our own path and pace. Some people, for instance, only realise their own Ukrainian identity when they lose the ability to live in Ukraine.

There are no easy choices left for us anymore

I have the privilege of staying home in the time of war. Of course, this is a conscious for my family and simultaneously a responsibility for all the possible consequences but it also is a combination of certain favorable factors. Unlike many of my fellow Ukrainians, my house is intact and I live in Kyiv, the most protected city in Ukraine at this moment, and luckily I have not lost the ability to make a living under the circumstances of the war. And there’s also a lot going on behind the scenes.

Undoubtedly, one can talk at length about the various drawbacks of this decision, but my friends and I, who have found ourselves on the other side of the experience, tread carefully on this thin ice. And yet, I am always amazed at how all of them - those who went to Poland, Lithuania, Germany, France, USA and so on, and have not made the decision to stay there - every time we meet, they start explaining and justifying themselves to me, as if the fact that I stayed in Ukraine gives me the right to judge them.

Hey, what are you doing?! No, there are no easy choices left for us anymore. Yes, it will always be a complex mix of entirely polar feelings.

And I listen to you, my dear friends, very carefully about all your tough calls and hard times and ask myself - could I have done the same?

And I cheer for you when I hear about your children’s or your own success in an unfamiliar foreign-speaking environment. I breathe a sigh of relief when such terrible trials as suddenly discovered oncology or other insidious diagnoses are treated for free and with quality in those developed countries where you have ended up. I am not annoyed by your everyday small joys that you are too shy to openly share on social media.

Moreover, frankly, I am proud of you - all these volunteer initiatives, the incredible projects you are driving in your new locations, all this great collective work for Ukraine, its military, image, culture and so on, all of this is very, very important. The Ukrainian diaspora is our superpower, I always say that.

But I won't lie, I often feel bitterness and resentment that the damn war has scattered all of you to distant lands, that prolonged stays in other worlds inevitably affect changes in your mentality and perspective. And it hurts me, God, it hurts me so much, too, that the flower of our nation has been so cut down on various levels.

However, I want to keep believing in our power and unity, I want us to stop bickering among ourselves and learn to listen to each other in this not-so-black-and-white reality. I want to feel that circumstances and distances can not take my close ones away from me. And that someday I will feel more or less at home anywhere, where I will be fed with sincere Ukrainian borsch.

…Having thanked my host for the hospitality, I’m leaving Warsaw once again to catch one of my many trains to Kyiv. I often travel this way and already have a collection of usual observations. These trains, connecting Ukraine and Poland, are always full of our women and children who are carrying heavy luggage, learning various languages (oh, the everpresent sound of Duolingo!), who have special documents confirming the legitimacy of their stay abroad, generously share the conditions of their new lives, complain or praise themselves, who are sad or laughing, explaining themselves or defending their decisions quite aggressively, even when no one challenged them. There is so much poignancy in all of this.

On the road, I observe the cheerful little daughter of another passenger for a while. She must be two or three years old, she’s active and constantly chattering about everything under the sun. However, I find it hard to understand her. «She speaks German better than Ukrainian now», - her mother says, embarrassed and almost apologetic to everyone. Well, that happens. Especially during the endless balancing between different worlds.

Lyuba Shipovich had been living in the United States since 2008, but after the beginning of the full-scale war, she returned to Ukraine. Lyuba is a co-founder of the «Razom for Ukraine» public organisation, and since 2023, the founder of the «Dignitas» charitable foundation, which takes care of military and veteran projects, including providing the army with UAVs and training drone operators. Last year, Shipovich was listed in the TOP 50 Ukrainian female leaders according to Forbes magazine.

Nataliia Zhukovska: Lyuba, the main area of your work is unmanned technologies: surveillance and combat drones. What is the real situation with military units being provided with UAVs today?

Lyuba Shipovich: It is about technology in general. Apart from unmanned vehicles, there is also software, situation awareness, combat control systems etc. As for the drone supply, the state is now buying them. Yes, not yet in a sufficient amount but they started doing it. However, we still lack the infrastructure for these drones. I am talking about antennas, ground control stations, portable power stations, tablets, 3D printers for explosive components of air-dropping systems. Unfortunately, this whole infrastructure is not funded by the state at all at the moment. The funding comes either from foundations or the units raise the money for this themselves.

The drone does not fly by itself. There also have to be glasses, RCs, antennas, charging devices, tablets, retranslators

What has to be done to ensure there are enough drones on the frontlines?

If we compare 2022, when there were no drones at all, to the situation now, it is significantly better. According to the prime minister, 40 billion hryvnias have been dedicated to purchasing unmanned systems this year. This already is an improvement. But it is not enough. When the President is talking about a million drones, it sounds like a lot. In reality, however, we calculated that such an amount would only be sufficient for three months in today’s frontline and combat intensity. Therefore, a million - is, in essence, a fourth part of the yearly demand.

We are engaged in an intense war, the largest drone war in the world in the history of humanity. Moreover, due to the frequent lack of ammunition, drones often replace artillery. Western countries were not prepared for a large-scale land war. NATO's doctrine is to gain air superiority. However, we are conducting a large-scale land war. Even the combined NATO countries cannot supply it with enough ammunition. On one hand, they lack the capacity, on the other hand, political and bureaucratic processes are an obstacle. We cannot rely solely on the help of our Western allies.

We must invest in our own production. And what we are doing quite well is primarily the production of unmanned technologies

It is known that Ukraine still depends on China for some components necessary for drone production. And last year, the Chinese already imposed certain export restrictions. How do you assess the risk that at some point they might completely «tighten the screws»?

We need to look for alternatives. China is the cheapest and largest manufacturer, but fortunately, not a monopolist. There are other manufacturers in Central Asian countries. Factories are also being built in Europe and the USA. And, of course, we need to pay enormous attention to localising the production of components. We should produce in Ukraine everything that can be produced here, even if it is more expensive. Because during the war, the cost is not evaluated purely based on the economic factor. There is also the factor of national security. Currently, there are several hundred stable productions in Ukraine. However, very few of them scale up production capacities because they do not have guarantees that orders will be consistent.

The state should enter into medium- to long-term contracts with manufacturers for procurement. If the contract is at least three years, it will be of interest to the manufacturer to invest in their business

This is probably the biggest problem. And if we talk about manufacturers in European countries, they generally want 8- to 10-year contracts. After all, these are capital investments in production lines, expansion of facilities, and so on.

Lyuba, you have been involved in volunteer work since 2014. It was then that the charitable foundation «Razom for Ukraine» was established in the United States. You are one of its co-founders. Since February 24, over the course of a year, you have managed to raise 68 million dollars. How did you achieve that?

Over 60 per cent of the funds came from small donations from people, mostly Americans and Canadians. They contributed 10, 20, 100 dollars to help the Ukrainian army. There were also corporate donations. Up to ten corporations donated 1 million dollars each. These were quite well-known companies worldwide that often wished to remain anonymous. I attribute this level of activity among foreigners to the fact that, at that time, Ukraine was at the top of all the news. It was a natural impulse to help in the fight against injustice.

It is also important to understand the American culture, where volunteerism is instilled from a young age. It is an integral part of life. There are even special days of the year, such as Giving Tuesday, that unite people to help each other. Currently, this support has decreased significantly, partly because Ukraine has disappeared from the news. Last December, I travelled to the United States, where Americans asked me, «Is there still a war going on?» If it is not shown in the news, it seems like it is over. But it is the same as Ukrainians not knowing what is happening in other countries. For example, in December, an important news story was about Venezuela. But if you ask Ukrainians what happened there, many would say, «Where is that?» When something is not in the news, it feels like it does not exist.

Last year, the team that worked on military and veteran projects within «Razom for Ukraine» separated into a new foundation called Dignitas. Why did this happen?

Out of the 68 million dollars that we managed to raise during the first year of the full-scale war, 45 million went to support the military. Specifically, this included the purchase of tactical medicine, drones, radios, power stations and so on. Meanwhile, the organisation also had humanitarian programs. Towards the end of 2022, discussions began about reducing military aid and redirecting more funds towards support and rebuilding efforts. At that time, I was the only board member based in Ukraine - all others were in the United States.

I tried to convey to people that it was still too early to focus on rebuilding Ukraine and that investment in defence was necessary. Because if we do not destroy the Russian tank, it will continue to wipe our cities off the map. Consequently, the rebuilding would become a never-ending process

It was at this stage that certain differences began to emerge. It became increasingly difficult to advocate that the funds were needed specifically for the military. After consulting with my team, we decided to separate into a new foundation, where it is clearly stated in the charter that we are a foundation for technological assistance to the security and defence forces, as well as veterans. We started again with zero dollars in our account.

Who forms the «core» of your team?

All those who had worked with us on military and veteran projects since 2014. The largest initiative, «Victory Drones», is led by Mariya Berlinska. It is an ecosystem for training the military in technology, specifically drone operators for the Armed Forces of Ukraine (AFU), the State Emergency Service of Ukraine (SES), and medical services in cooperation with the General Staff. There is also the «Fierce Birds» project, which supplies strike drones to the front line. It is led by Katya Nesterenko, who had worked for many years in the «Isolation» project and is very knowledgeable and understanding of the Donetsk region.

There is a project called «A Thousand Drones», which primarily focuses on reconnaissance drones. For example, in the United States, we are not allowed to raise funds for strike drones. Therefore, we have split the fundraising efforts: we collect funds for strike drones in Ukraine and for reconnaissance drones abroad.

There is also the «Fly» project, within which military personnel in rehabilitation departments are taught to operate FPV drones. This project is led by Dana Yurovich, who had previously worked for many years with the Ministry of Health team under Ulana Suprun (acting Minister of Health of Ukraine from 2016 to 2019) and on various international projects. In the tenth year of the war, volunteering needs to be professional. Yes, there were periods when everyone was doing everything when tourniquets and drones were bought indiscriminately and without understanding. But in reality, such an approach is an inefficient use of financial resources, which are already quite limited. Everyone should focus on their area of expertise.

For example, everyone knows that they need to buy a Mavic drone. However, not all understand that there is a whole line of them with different characteristics and firmware. As a result, people spend money on the Mavic 3 Classic, which is often unsuitable for use on the frontlines. But if a little more money were added, another drone could be purchased that would definitely be useful. There have even been cases where drones were bought and handed over to the military without being reprogrammed, and without anonymised firmware, they revealed positions. So, sometimes it is not just wasteful, it can be harmful to the military. That is why we do not get involved in other areas. Our focus is on technology.

For a long time, you were involved in advocating for weapons for Ukraine. What was the most challenging part, and did Western politicians always listen to you?

I continue to do this work even now. Our American team regularly communicates with congressmen and attends meetings. This work does not stop. In 2022, it was challenging to convince American politicians that Ukraine would hold out. If you recall that period, what kind of weapons was Ukraine being given? It was Javelins and Stingers - not for waging war, but for guerrilla warfare. Only in May 2022, when it became clear that Ukraine was indeed ready to fight, did they start providing heavier weapons for conventional military operations. So, until the middle of 2022, it was a matter of simply convincing them that we could and would endure, that we did not need to surrender Ukraine along the Dnipro or agree to any peace deals.

We have shown that we are ready to fight. The Western politicians and voters believed in us

What do we need to do to prevent the weakening of support from Europe and the United States?

It seems to me that Ukraine has disappeared from the news in the United States. We are not acting proactively. Look at Russia, which has been developing a network of television channels around the world for over 20 years. They broadcast in different languages - Arabic, Spanish, English, French, German, and others - meaning they generate their own content. In addition, they have a whole series of entertainment programs. They attract viewers' attention with these, and then they broadcast news between them. And what kind of news do the Russians broadcast about Ukraine? The ones that benefit them.

Where does the Western consumer get information about Ukraine? Either from the infrequent news in Western media or from Russian TV channels. We need to pay more attention to the information space and understand that foreign consumers consume information in their own language. Not Ukrainian and not always English. There is a huge Spanish-speaking world that we do not pay attention to, and the Arab world, where we also have very little information. And to gain support in those countries from politicians, we first need to gain it from their voters.

Why are there political bargaining and debates in America right now? Ukraine is a bargaining chip because voters do not have a clear opinion about us. If all voters wanted to support Ukraine, it could be guaranteed that politicians would do the same. Because they listen to their voters, especially in America, where congressional elections are held every two years. It is a relatively short election cycle, so voters are listened to constantly. Moreover, our politicians often use Western media to fight among themselves. And it is important to understand that this does not benefit us either.

When Western consumers see our internal political games, they think the war is over because local politicians are competing with each other

The major goal of the state is Ukraine's accession to NATO. This would be the greatest security guarantee for the country. Do you believe in NATO, where everyone defends each other?

I have spoken with Poles on this topic quite a bit. They are confident that they will be the next target of the Russian Federation. But when you ask them if they would go to defend their country, the response is: «Why would we? We are in NATO, the Americans will come to protect us». That is the classic answer. They do not understand that the primary responsibility is to defend their own country. And this collective NATO agreement is not about sitting back while someone else comes to fight for you. It means that we all defend each other together.

In my opinion, Russia will not go into Poland next, but into the Baltic countries. And I think that Estonians, Latvians, and Lithuanians understand this very well. They also understand that they must rely on their own forces. That is why they are actively preparing

For instance, they are conducting training for the population. When we talk about NATO countries, we think of a strong, powerful army. However, the Alliance does not have experience in conducting land wars. Right now, many of our military personnel are undergoing training abroad, and even NATO generals admit that they can learn more from Ukrainians than vice versa. Because currently, there is only one country in the world that can resist Russia - and that is Ukraine. Only we have the experience of resisting such a powerful aggressor. So if NATO sees Russia as an enemy, they are definitely interested in having Ukraine as, if not a member, at least a strong ally.

Photos from a private archive