Lviv and Lwów, the Plight of Ukraine pt 2

While I was in Ukraine, 1,200 km and 15 hours of driving, on the other side of the country, a war was raging. Shadowy crimes against humanity were taking place that won’t really emerge until after the conflict simmers, or possibly never come to light at all. Surprisingly, while walking through the streets of the cultural capital of western Ukraine signs of the conflict were not very noticeable. There was a lot of Ukrainian memorabilia being sold on the streets, the bright blue and yellow were ubiquitous, but nothing that was provocatively nationalist, and signs that people were dying every day within the same borders were almost non-existent.

I happened to come across a monument to the great Ukrainian poet Taras Shevchenko where hundreds of candles in red and white glass cylinders had been placed in some sort of memorial. The thought crossed my mind that these could be for fallen fighters in the east, but the longer I looked at them the more I realized it had nothing to do with the war, and in fact it turned out to be commemorating a famous Ukrainian musician who died a few days earlier in a car crash near Dnipropetrovsk.

On one of the walls of the town hall in the central square there was a poster with 66 black and white photos of men who had presumably died in the conflict, but the writing underneath only ambiguously mentioned that these were heroes of the homeland. The purported nationalism in the west was not really noticeable, except for when my Russian speaking host suggested that I shouldn’t speak Russian.

I asked my host Ivan if there were signs of the war around the city, and he told me that of course they were everywhere. I asked him what kind of signs, and prompted the answer ‘posters,’ and he said, “Yes, posters.” Walking around many corners of the city, and keeping a special eye out for propaganda posters, I rarely came across anything overt.

Ukraine’s 20^th century can easily go down as one of the most tumultuous of any country in the history of humanity. At one point surrounded by two of the biggest and most genocidal powers to have ever existed, they were faced with impossible decisions and unavoidable subjugation. By both sides they were dehumanized and used as cannon fodder, sent to concentration camps and gulags, lied to about the possibility of independence, and generally violently forced into a form of servitude.

One of the most horrendous events of the 20^th century happened in the core of Ukraine. An event perpetuated by Moscow’s secret police, where the borders where internally cut off from the rest of the USSR, and the people deliberately starved to death. In just one year over 7,000,000 people died from the forced famine. The holocaust took four years and murdered around the same amount of people, give or take 1,000,000. The population of Ukraine before the Holodomer (the name of this genocide) was around 28,000,000. In the years of 1932 and 1933 one in four people would die by excruciating hunger.

Then World War II hit. Ukraine has an incredibly complicated history here, and there is no way to simplify it, but notably during this time the country went through two scorched earth policies, one at the beginning of the war while the Soviets were retreating, and during which vital infrastructure and historical buildings were blown to smithereens, and again after the battle of Stalingrad, during the Nazi retreat, where the Ukrainian land was again torched to ash.  An infernal fire blazed endlessly above Ukraine’s black soil, enveloping the people that walked upon it, and ruthlessly and indiscriminately bringing them to their disquiet grave. By the end of this event, again one in four Ukrainians would indiscriminately die. If you can imagine 79,000,000 Americans dying in the span of four years, or one year due to starvation for that matter, then you can come somewhere close to the psychological impact that these events had (and still have) on Ukrainian people.

After the war the Soviets systematically suppressed any nationalist movements, killing the leaders via trademark Moscovian assassination. Today Ukraine is in turmoil once again, and the violent aggressor is indubitably expansionist Moscow. Moscow is fighting a proxy war for control of rich resources, much like the Americans did in Iraq in the past decade, the difference being that Moscow wants direct control and Russian institutionalization, whereas America just wanted, and still wants, the resources. (I am making no moral judgment, just pointing out the difference in intention)

I finished my stay in Lviv, and headed towards the beautiful art-nouveau Austro-Hungarian train station. There I could catch a mini bus to the Polish-Ukrainian border. Under the illusion and romanticism of Lviv Ukraine’s conflicts were not heavily on my mind. I was well rested, and thoroughly enjoyed my stay. Everything was cheap, charming, and pleasurable.  

On the way home I met a Pole. He was a middle aged man, with some childlike energy (as many travelling Poles have), and he was from the area around Białystok near the border with Belarus, also near one of the most beautiful national parks in Poland, Białowieża. Through him I experienced a very different Lviv. He told me of the countless bodies being brought back home to the surrounding villages, of the constant talk of the conflict and Russian aggression, and of the secret Ukrainian nationalist bar where you must say “Slava Ukraina,” (Long live Ukraine) at the door in order to enter. Hearing this I felt like I missed something. I had a feeling that maybe a longer sojourn in Lviv was needed in order to come into contact with its true contemporary nature. He said he stayed with a friend who was a journalist, and through her he was able to experience Lviv for what it really was.

I crossed the border by foot. It was very easy, unlike crossing the border by car, which took us three hours. I bypassed the long line of Ukrainians by using my nonexistent American charm to go through the stations labeled 'Citizens of the European Union.' Surprisingly, the officers in charge of regulating the lines looked at my American passport once, snickered a little bit, and then with a smiling face and a strong Polish accent said, "I think yes," and I was on my way. 

On the other side I stood in awe of the old Ukrainian ladies that had passed the border just for a few hours in order to sell a bottle of vodka and two packets of cigarettes marked up about 200%. At one point a police car appeared at the end of the street, slowly creeping up towards the central location of the elderly smugglers. At this moment every single old lady, without exception, hid their paraphernalia under their knee length black and mauve overcoats and started walking at a snail’s pace towards the main highway 200 meters away.This was a real spectacle, and one that unfortunately reeked of desperation. I felt sorry for the 60 year old woman who whispered in my ear as I was entering the bus, “Będzie pan papierosy?” (Cigarettes for you sir?) Ukraine desperately needs something more. They need solidarity, belief, and some honesty that might put them on the road to stability. Eventually, if by a miracle things are done correctly, Lviv, and all of Ukraine could solidify its identity and become a prime example of the reconciliation of history.

Link to part 1

Old Ukrainian women trying to sell vodka on the Polish side of the border.

Photo was taken by the author