What will be the future of Ukraine after the end of the war?

As the latest, perhaps the last, residents forced to evacuate the devastated region of Mariupol set foot in the relatively safe Ukrainian-controlled city of Zaporizhia, feelings of anguish, relief and determination are felt in almost equal measure. Some of the new arrivals have the courage to raise their hands in the air and shout victory and long live Ukraine. While most are silent. Some of them overcome their emotions and talk in detail about the hell they left behind.

He recounted weeks spent in the dark oblivion of bunkers beneath the sprawling Azov-Stal steelworks and spoke of the deadly dangers of venturing out for a few moments for light and air. He spoke of friends and family members who were gone forever, the lamp of their short or long lives extinguished suddenly, seemingly without regulation. As you listen to this detailed and true-to-life account, you can’t help but wonder how the narrators seem filled with feelings of gratitude for being alive while enduring so much in comfort.

The worst things they probably didn’t mention and probably never will. One of the most unusual aspects of war is that once the horrors are over, many people seem ready to move on with life, regardless of the brutality and deprivation they have endured. passed through

It still seems as real as it did in the past. Most survivors of Nazi death camps never spoke about their experiences, and this was the case with Japanese prisoners of war. Take Britain in the 1950s and 1960s, how many parents told their children about Dunkirk or D-Day or the German bombing of London and other cities during World War II?

My husband’s parents, who were taken for forced labor from the Ukraine to what is now the Czech Republic, recount only fleeting memories of the days when they traveled westward from Europe during the closing stages of World War II. They were part of the tide of the human ocean. For the victors, the facts of the war were soon replaced by tales of heroism and the defeat of evil by good. Suffice it to say that my father-in-law, despite being under the protection of America, slept with an ax in his bed until the last moment.

War leaves behind complex legacies that are felt across time and at many levels. Once the war is over, the effects of this complication will be evident in Ukraine. Hints of what will happen in the meantime can be found in many other places that went through the same situation that Ukraine is going through today.

The scope of such examples is vast even if you limit them geographically to Europe and Russia. You can start from Arnhem or Verdun in the west and come to Stalingrad (Volgograd) in the east, stopping along the way at some of the very Ukrainian cities that are or may be in conflict today.

Additionally, you can add to this list some cities destroyed by recent conflicts, such as Sarajevo in Yugoslavia, regardless of other conflicts such as Nagorno-Karabakh or Transnistria, which date back to the time of the collapse of the Soviet Union, but still Not resolved.

Mostar has three museums of its own, one of which offers its own perspective. You can’t take a walk around the ancient center and not see several small cemeteries, each offering a view of fresh white stones, occasional aromas and clusters of name-seeking pilgrims.

As I say the range of examples is very wide. The war has left its footprints all over Europe. But it so happened that my recent trip included two cities whose 21st-century identity is based on war and which are clear examples of its lingering effects. The first is the city of Arras in northern France and the second is the city of Mostar in the now independent state of Bosnia and Herzegovina.

Of course, these two wars are completely different in their time and background, but both almost destroyed their respective cities. I don’t know if it should be said here that, like many other places that have been the center of fierce and prolonged fighting, this city has spread its feet around a river that has the power to unite or divide them. What they both have in common is that the echoes of their reconstruction and survival can be heard very soon in Ukraine.

More than a century has passed since the guns of the First World War fell silent, when an armistice was signed in the Forest of Campion, a few hours’ drive from Arras, which took effect at the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month of 1918. Today’s Arras is a thriving commercial city with historic churches and classic Flemish squares as rich as if the war hadn’t even touched it. But maybe this is just a point of view.

The center of Arras is as intact as it appears today, but not in spite of the war, you might say because of the war. By the end of the war, about two-thirds of the city had been reduced to ruins. Its famous town hall and its tower were destroyed in the early months, and the following year the same happened to the cathedral. From the brief German occupation in 1914 to the decisive battles of 1917, Arras was just 10 kilometers from the battlefield.

What creates a direct link with Mariupol is the presence of underground bankers under the Azov steelworks, the extensive bunkers (medieval) and tunnels beneath the Aras that helped secure the city, which It moved large numbers of people underground from above ground and provided shelter for British troops to hold the city against German attacks until 1917.

But what happened next defines what Aras is today. With the end of the war, the people began to rebuild the city of their own free will, and not only rebuild, but replicate as much as possible the former structure. As a result, the ancient city was revived on the outside in almost all its details, but on the inside it was built according to the latest construction techniques and amenities.

Arras seems to have been lucky with its builders and founders of the city, whose mentions are now scattered across the center on plaques, and the square once known as Small Square was named in tribute to these British soldiers. The Heroes’ Square was laid out, who had successfully defended the city. Along the Ring Road there is a neat Commonwealth War Cemetery with over 2500 graves.

Note the cruel irony that the reconstruction of Arras was completed in 1938, a year before the outbreak of war in Flanders and two years before the German occupation of Arras. Although it is the Great War that defines the city today, a hundred years after its near-total destruction, the city has largely mitigated its suffering with a wealth of civic and national mythology.

One day the war in Ukraine will end. But actually it won’t end, Ukraine will change. War causes far more damage in many other ways than the clear statistics of deaths, injuries and material destruction.

It is for this reason that as I walked around Aras, I saw it as a model for most, if not all, of Ukraine’s devastation and urban devastation, which sows the realistic hope that they too can be restored as quickly and vigorously as possible. It can be as it once happened. In fact, Ukraine’s capital, Kiev, already has its Independence Square to commemorate the ‘Heavenly Hundred’ which, despite being affected by the 2014 protests, was not completely demolished. From February 2022 and for as long as the war continues, there will be many martyrs to build memorials in Ukrainian towns and cities.

Nor can it be doubted that the people of Ukraine will be as determined as the people of Aras to restore their lost historical architecture. I remember when the first Russian missile was fired on the outskirts of Kharkiv, a young volunteer told the BBC without emotion that the war in Ukraine was about replacing the ugly Soviet-era blocks with something more aesthetically pleasing and appropriate. can provide an opportunity. No doubt many of his countrymen would agree.

With such widespread destruction and the urgent need for new housing, financial problems can certainly arise, as happened in Arras. But a century of Aras can be a beacon of hope in many ways for Ukraine, and especially for a devastated city like Mariupol. War is destructive, but it can also be a catalyst for reconstruction, handing the reins of a complacent past into the right hands for a brighter future.

But the century, even half a century, that it took for Aras to emerge from the interwar period is a long time for war-weary Ukrainians or anyone. Even if you just talk about material reconstruction, it took 20 years, a whole generation. Even with modern architectural methods, a ruined city of the size of Mariupol still seems unlikely to be completed in less than that time.

Mostar’s war legacy perhaps holds little consolation and few warnings for post-war Ukraine. Just 27 years have passed since the Dayton Accords, a framework for ending the Bosnian war, which erupted as a result of the post-Cold War breakup of Yugoslavia and Serbia’s territorial ambitions, were agreed. Here the war is alive and well in the memory of people over forty years old at least. To some extent this presence is also wonderful.

The city boasts a dramatic locale, in a steep rocky gorge along the deep turquoise Neretva River, and the historic 16th-century bridge that bears its name is the reason for its worldwide fame. It became a symbol of combat divisions at the hands of Croatian forces on 9 November 1993, just as the bridge’s reconstruction as close to its original design as possible and its first crossing in July 2004 became a symbol of peace and reconciliation.

In many places, for example Northern Ireland, peace does not necessarily bring reconciliation, and the same is true of Mostar. Between 1992 and 1996, more than five-quarters of 80 percent of the city was damaged or destroyed, a proportion higher than Sarajevo, which was blockaded by Serbian military forces for nearly four years and Made headlines around the world. Today Mostar’s old town has been almost completely restored to its former glory with its cobbled streets and stone roofs, largely under the financial support and supervision of UNESCO.

However, you don’t have to go far to find dilapidated and dilapidated buildings and dilapidated streets. The residential blocks are dilapidated and littered with political slogans written in Serb and Croat scripts but with the same language.

Everyone knows where the front line was during the war (and it wasn’t down by the river but a few blocks away) and everyone knows that the city is now effectively cut off from the old front line and now there There is only one school in which (mainly Catholic) Croats and (mainly Muslim) Bosniaks and a few (mainly Orthodox) Serbs co-exist. An open trilateral armed conflict has become a bilateral conflict between Croats and Bosniaks that is not known to resolve itself over time. You can hear church bells and calls to prayer at certain times of the day. But any sense of coherence is missing.

Whether the deteriorating law and order situation continues depends to some extent on the economic prosperity of the city. After the war, the tourism sector dominated the economy and was on a promising path when the Corona epidemic hit. Tourists are just starting to come back again. Four out of ten locals are unemployed: wages are pitiful and as many as they can get EU visas to get out. Poverty is one aspect: clear evidence that post-war recovery is far from over. But just as important is where the money and talent is being used.

At least apparently its observable use is on a series of monuments: museums, memorials and cemeteries. Mostar has three museums of its own, each offering its own perspective. You can’t take a stroll around the ancient center and not see several small cemeteries, each offering the sight of fresh white stones, the occasional scent and a cluster of name-seeking pilgrims. Perhaps family members or friends or former comrades come armed.

Then when you bend down to read their details, the ethnic and religious mix, some names distinctly Christian and Croat or Serb while others Muslim and Bosniak, is even more surprising than between 1993 and 1995. The proportion of adolescents who die in their third decade is It’s hard to imagine now, but this city center was a battlefield where these sites were emergency burial sites.

The conflict in Ukraine may seem different from the war in Bosnia, given the fact that it began with the old traditional pattern of one country attacking another and its pre-existing sense of national unity and nationalism. It is a legacy that is being further strengthened by a new stream of inspiring memories and new local and national legends. In this spirit, the new heroes will be remembered with the names of streets, squares and buildings. If the war in Bosnia leaves this part of the Balkans almost as divided as it was before, Ukraine will be much more united than in the past when the war with Russia ends.

However, there are two legacies of war that the recent war zones of Mostar and Ukraine probably share. The first is economic loss. A recent World Bank estimate shows that Ukraine’s economy could shrink by more than four percent this year as a result of the war. Conversely, if the war ends, recovery should be easier for Ukraine. This is thanks in part to generous international aid from the US, Canada and the European Union very early on, this and the inclusion of something like the Marshall Plan. But that’s partly because the mainstay of Ukraine’s economy is agriculture and mineral resources, sectors that can recover quickly after the conflict ends.

However, the situation is not so promising. War damage to infrastructure, particularly in the transport and power generation sectors, can be overwhelming in itself and hinder the recovery of other sectors. There is also the question of the workforce: how many of those who left the country will return, and how many of them will be the younger and better-educated ones needed to rebuild Ukraine.

Another potentially common post-war legacy between Ukraine and Bosnia concerns community relations. While the Russian invasion has undoubtedly boosted Ukraine’s self-love and intensified patriotism, something that could help Ukrainians endure potential post-war economic hardship, it Meanwhile, two other trends can produce opposite results. One is the possibility of reprisals against those suspected of harboring pro-Russian sympathizers or collaborating in Russian-occupied territories. According to some evidence, it has already started.

Secondly, the other facet of group homogeneity is the product of conditions of siege. I heard similar stories of how the underground refugees of Mariupol and Kharkiv shared essentials like food and phone chargers with each other, and the same sentiment was seen in wartime Mostar. . But the greater the sense of group solidarity, the more intense the hatred of the enemy.

In Mostar, this hatred is mostly directed against non-existent Serbs, but also runs between Croats and Bosniaks. In Ukraine, it is towards the Russians. Of course, under the current conditions of the war, the hatred against the Russians is completely understandable. But according to aid workers, they have heard even young children express their desire to take revenge on the Russians, with far-reaching effects on personal and political relationships, and hatred of Russia and Russians for at least a generation. Until and maybe even longer.

The creation of the Common Market after the Second World War was actually a way of promoting anti-German sentiment and is now recognized by many of the EU’s core members as an economic and now political as well as a largely successful peace plan. Is it the effect of the European Union or the passing of 150 years that you hardly ever hear anti-German sentiment expressed in public, and when I visited Arras there were a large number of German visitors and I noticed this. Found the truth.

After the worst experience of war and political travel in opposite directions between Ukraine and Russia, the prospect of a permanent near-term peace plan, let alone a proposal, is unlikely, at least as long as the government in Russia remains in power. Don’t change.

Finally, a psychological aspect is mentioned that the war will leave behind a state of trauma. It’s not just limited to the symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder, and of course there is a better awareness of such damage today, but also how people behave after a war ends. Monotheism reigned in the basements of Mostar as it does now in the underground stations of Kharkiv and the bunkers of the Azov steelworks. But how long will such a sentiment last?

What I saw in Mostar and other places not long after the end of the war suggests that war, perhaps because personal survival becomes imperative, makes behavior worse. Under its influence, there may be widespread suspicion of strangers, as well as a lack of social trust and an extreme selfishness in almost everything. You may find harshness where there was once politeness.

One day the war in Ukraine will end. But actually it won’t end, Ukraine will change. War causes far more damage in many other ways than the clear statistics of deaths, injuries and material destruction. It leaves more scars that can only be felt by those who have been fortunate enough to see a peaceful time in life. But its effects are very diverse.

The outcome of the war is a fertile subject of scholarly and scientific study and my opinion is nothing more than personal observations that I made in various places, which may provide some clues as to the future situation in Ukraine. Its positive aspects likely include an emerging fresh sense of civic responsibility, a stronger sense of belonging to a Ukrainian nation, and a deeper sense of common purpose that reflects a desire to make amends for what was not done in time. People may be more willing to make sacrifices for a better future than they were in the past, practical examples of which are not limited to material goods.

However, a country that was already poor by Western standards must be assessed not only for its economic toll, but also for the psychological effects of war on social relations and behavior, where many now carry guns. Have become accustomed to charging and balancing the power bill.

However, the biggest change on a collective and individual level may be the intense hatred developed for the clumsy and poorly behaved neighborhood bullies.

That hatred could be enough to destabilize the entire region for years, raising the risk that the Russia-Ukraine conflict will not end.