I just returned from my third trip to Russia, and my second
trip to Donbas (now referring to the republics of Donetsk and Luhansk
collectively) in about eight months. This time, I flew into lovely
Tallinn, Estonia, and took what should be about a six-hour bus ride to
St. Petersburg. In the end, my bus trip took me about 12 hours, due to a
long wait in Customs on the Russian side of the border.
Having a U.S. passport and trying to pass the frontier from
a hostile, NATO country into Russia during wartime got me immediately
flagged for questioning. And then, it turned out I did not have all my
papers in order as I was still without my journalist credential from the
Russian Foreign Ministry, which was necessary given that I told the
border patrol that I was traveling to do reporting. I was treated very
nicely, though the long layover forced me to lose my bus that, understandably, went on without me.
However, sometimes we find opportunity in seemingly
inconvenient detours, and that was true in this case. Thus, I became a
witness to a number of Ukrainians, some of them entire families, trying
to cross the border and to immigrate to Russia. Indeed, the only other
type of passport (besides my U.S. passport) I saw amongst those held
over for questioning and processing was the blue Ukrainian passport.
This is evidence of an inconvenient fact to the Western narrative of the
war that portrays Russia as an invader of Ukraine. In fact, many
Ukrainians have an affinity for Russia and have voluntarily chosen to
live there over the years.
Between 2014—the real start of the war when the Ukrainian
government began attacking its own people in the Donbas—and the
beginning of Russia’s intervention in February 2022, around one million Ukrainians had already immigrated to Russia. The fact that Ukrainians were going to live in Russia was reported in the mainstream press back then, with the BBC writing
in September 2014 about some of the refugees while noting that
“[s]eparatists in the eastern regions of Donetsk and Luhansk declared
independence after Russia annexed Crimea from Ukraine.
Since the violence erupted, some 2,600 people have been killed
and thousands more wounded. The city of Luhansk has been under siege by
government forces for the past month and is without proper supplies of
food and water.” The number of dead in this war would grow to 14,000 by February 2022, again before Russia’s Special Military Operation (SMO) had even begun.
Around 1.3 million additional Ukrainians have immigrated to Russia since February 2022, making Russia the largest recipient of Ukrainian refugees in the world since the beginning of the SMO.
When I commented to one of the Russian border officials—Kirill
is his name—about the stack of Ukrainian passports sitting on his desk,
he made a point to tell me that they treat the Ukrainians coming in “as
human beings.” When my contact in St Petersburg, Boris, was able to send
a photo of my newly acquired press
credential to Kirill, I was sent on my way with a handshake and was
able to catch the next bus heading to St. Petersburg almost immediately.
Once in St. Petersburg, I went to Boris’s house for a short
rest and then was off by car to Rostov-on-Don, the last Russian city
before Donetsk. I was driven in a black Lexus by a kind Russian
businessman named Vladimir along with German, the founder of the
humanitarian aid group known as “Leningrad Volunteers.” The car was
indeed loaded with humanitarian aid to take to Donbas. After some short
introductions, and my dad joke about the “Lexus from Texas,” we were off
on our 20-hour journey at a brisk pace of about 110 kilometers an hour.
We arrived in Rostov in the evening and checked into the
Sholokhov Loft Hotel, named after Mikhail Sholokhov, Rostov’s favorite
son who wrote the great novel And Quite Flows the Don. We were
told that, until recently, a portrait of the titular head of the Wagner
Group, Yevgeny Prigozhin, had adorned the lobby wall. They took this
down after members of the Wagner Group invaded Rostov, putting fear in
many of the residents. Now, the hotel only has Hollywood movie posters
decorating the walls.
In the early afternoon the next day, my translator Sasha
arrived from her hometown of Krasnodar, Russia, a seven-hour train ride
from Rostov. Sasha, who is 22 years old, is a tiny red-headed woman who
quickly turned out to be one of the most interesting people I met on my
journey.
As Sasha explained to me, she has been supporting humanitarian
work in Donbas since the age of 12. She told me that she derived her
interest in this work from her grandmother who raised her in the
“patriotic spirit” of the USSR. As Sasha explained, her parents were too
busy working to do much raising of her at all. Sasha, who is from the
mainland of Russia, attends the University of Donetsk to live in
solidarity with the people who have been under attack there since 2014.
At age 22, Sasha, who wore open-toed sandals even when we
traveled to the front lines, is one of the bravest people I have ever
met, and she certainly disabused me of any notion that I was doing
anything especially brave by going to the Donbas. But, of course, as
Graham Greene once wrote, “with a return ticket, courage becomes an
intellectual exercise” anyway.
We quickly set out on our approximately three or four-hour
drive to Donetsk City, with a brief stop at a passport control office
now run by the Russian Federation subsequent to the September 2022
referendum in which the people of Donetsk and three other Ukrainian
republics voted to join Russia.
I was again questioned by officials at this stop, but for only
15 minutes or so. I just resigned myself to the fact that, as an
American traveling through Russia at this time, I was not going to go
through any border area without some level of questioning. However, the
tone of the questioning was always friendly.
We arrived in Donetsk City, a small but lovely town along the
Kalmius River, without incident. Our first stop was at the Leningrad
Volunteers warehouse to unload some of the aid we had brought and to
meet some of the local volunteers. Almost all of these volunteers are
life-long residents of Donetsk, and nearly all of them wore military
fatigues and have been fighting the Ukrainian forces as part of the
Donetsk militia for years, many since the beginning of the conflict in
2014.
Members of the Donetsk militia escort Ukrainian prisoners of
war in the Donbas. The militias have been fighting the Ukrainian Army,
backed by the U.S., since the war really started in 2014. [Source: medium.com]
This is something I cannot impress upon the reader enough.
While we are often told that these fighters in the Donbas are Russians
or “Russian proxies,” this is simply not true. The lion’s share of
fighters are locals of varying ages, some quite old, who have been
fighting for their homes, families and survival since 2014.
While there have been Russian and international volunteers who
have supported these forces—just as there were international volunteers
who went to support the Republicans in Spain in the 1930s—they are
mostly local.
Of course, this changed in February 2022 when Russia began the
SMO. Nonetheless, the locals of Donetsk continue to fight, now alongside
the Russian forces.
The lie of “Russian proxies” fighting in the Donbas after 2014
is actually one of the smaller ones of the Western mainstream press, for
the claim at least acknowledges that there has been such fighting. Of
course, the mainstream media have tried to convince us that there was
never such fighting at all and that the Russian SMO beginning in
February 2022 was completely “unprovoked.” This is the big lie that has
been peddled in order to gain the consent of the Western populations to
support Ukraine militarily.
What is also ignored is the fact that this war was escalating
greatly before the beginning of the SMO and this escalation indeed
provoked it. Thus, according to the Organization for Security and
Co-operation in Europe (OSCE), a 57-member organization including many
Western countries, including the United States, there were about 2,000
cease-fire violations in the Donbas just in the weekend before the SMO
began on February 24, 2022.
In a rare moment of candor, Reuters reported
on February 19, 2022, “Almost 2,000 ceasefire violations were
registered in eastern Ukraine by monitors for the Organization for
Security and Cooperation in Europe on Saturday, a diplomatic source told
Reuters on Sunday. Ukrainian government and separatist forces have been
fighting in eastern Ukraine since 2014.”
Jacques Baud, a Swiss intelligence and security consultant and former NATO military analyst, further explains the precipitating events of the SMO:
“[A]s early as February 16, Joe Biden knew that the Ukrainians
had begun shelling the civilian population of Donbass, putting Vladimir
Putin in front of a difficult choice: to help Donbass militarily and
create an international problem, or to stand by and watch the
Russian-speaking people of Donbass being crushed.
…This is what he explained in his speech on February 21.
On that day, he agreed to the request of the Duma and
recognized the independence of the two Donbass Republics and, at the
same time, he signed friendship and assistance treaties with them.
The Ukrainian artillery bombardment of the Donbass population
continued, and, on 23 February, the two Republics asked for military
assistance from Russia. On 24 February, Vladimir Putin invoked Article
51 of the United Nations Charter, which provides for mutual military
assistance in the framework of a defensive alliance.
In order to make the Russian intervention totally illegal in
the eyes of the public we deliberately hid the fact that the war
actually started on February 16. The Ukrainian army was preparing to
attack the Donbass as early as 2021, as some Russian and European
intelligence services were well aware. Jurists will judge.”
Of course, none of this was news to the people I met in
Donetsk, for they had been living this reality for years. For example,
Dimitri, a young resident of Donetsk who has been fighting since 2014
along with his mother and father, told me quite exasperatedly as he
pointed to some of the weapons and ammunition behind him, “what is all
this stuff doing here? Why have we been getting this since 2014? Because
the war has been going on since then.”
Dimitri, who was studying at the university when the conflict
began, can no longer fight due to injuries received in the war,
including damage to his hearing which is evidenced by the earplugs he
wears. He hopes he can go back to his studies.
Just a few days before my arrival in Donetsk, Dimitri’s
apartment building was shelled by Ukrainian forces, just as it had been
in 2016. Like many in Donetsk, he is used to quickly repairing the
damage and going on with his life.
Dimitri took me to the Donetsk airport and nearby Orthodox
church and monastery which were destroyed in fighting between the
Ukrainian military and Donetsk militia forces back in 2014-2015. Dimitri
participated in the fighting in this area back then, explaining that
during that time, this was the area of the most intense fighting in the
world. But you would not know this from the mainstream press coverage
that had largely ignored this war before February 2022.
Bridge near the Donetsk airport which was destroyed in 2015 by
Donetsk militia forces to prevent Ukrainian troops and tanks from
crossing. [Source: Photo courtesy of Dan Kovalik]
One of the first individuals I interviewed in Donetsk was
36-year-old Vitaly, a big guy with a chubby, boyish face who wore a
baseball hat with the red Soviet flag with the hammer and sickle.
Vitaly, the father of three children, is from Donetsk and has been
fighting there for four years, including in the very tough battle for
the steel plant in Mariupol in the summer of 2022. He decided to take up
arms after friends of his were killed by Ukrainian forces, including
some who were killed by being burned alive by fascist forces—the same
forces that, we are told, do not exist. Vitaly, referring to the
mainstream Western media, laughed when saying, “they’ve been saying
we’ve been shelling ourselves for nine years.”
Vitaly has personally fought against soldiers wearing Nazi
insignia, and he is very clear that he is fighting fascism. Indeed, when
I asked him what the Soviet flag on his hat meant to him, he said that
it signified the defeat over Nazism, and he hopes he will contribute to
this again.
When I asked him about claims that Russia had intervened with
soldiers in the war prior to February 2022 as some allege, he adamantly
denied this, as did everyone else I interviewed in Donetsk. However, he
has witnessed the fact that Polish and UK soldiers have been fighting
with the Ukrainian military since the beginning. Vitaly opined that,
given what has transpired over the past nine years, he does not believe
that the Donbas will ever return to Ukraine, and he certainly hopes it
will not. Vitaly told me quite stoically that he believes he will not
see peace in his lifetime.
During my stay in Donetsk, I twice had dinner with Anastasia,
my interpreter during my first trip to the Donbas in November. Anastasia
teaches at the University of Donetsk. She has been traveling around
Russia, including to the far east, telling of what has been happening in
the Donbas since 2014 because many in Russia themselves do not fully
understand what has been going on. She told me that as she was
recounting her story, she found herself reliving her trauma from nine
years of war and feeling overwhelmed.
Anastasia’s parents and 13-year-old brother live near the front
lines in the Donetsk Republic, and she worries greatly about them.
Anastasia is glad that Russia has intervened in the conflict, and she
indeed corrected me when I once referred to the Russian SMO as an
“invasion,” telling me that Russia did not invade. Rather, they were
invited and welcomed in. That does seem to be the prevailing view in
Donetsk as far as I can tell.
During my five-day trip to Donetsk, I was taken to two cities
within the conflict zone—Yasinovataya and Gorlovka. I was required to
wear body armor and a helmet during this journey, though wearing a
seatbelt was optional, if not frowned upon.
While Donetsk City, which certainly sees its share of shelling,
is largely intact and with teeming traffic and a brisk restaurant and
café scene, once we got out of the city, this changed pretty quickly.
Yasinovataya showed signs of great destruction, and I was told
that a lot of this dated back to 2014. The destruction going back that
far included a machine factory which is now being used as a base of
operations for Donetsk forces and the adjacent administrative building
which looks like it could have been an opera house before it was
shelled.
For its part, the city center of Gorlovka looked largely
unmolested with signs of street life and even had an old trolley,
clearly from the Soviet era, running through the center of town. But the
outskirts of Gorlovka certainly showed signs of war. In both cities,
one could frequently hear the sounds of shelling in the distance.
In Gorlovka, we met with Nikoli, nicknamed “Heavy.” Nikoli
looks like a Greek god, standing at probably 6 feet, 5 inches, and all
muscle. I joked with him while I was standing next to him that I felt
like I was appearing next to Ivan Drago in Rocky IV. He got the joke and
laughed. While a giant of a man, he seemed very nice and with a strong
moral compass.
He led us to a makeshift Orthodox chapel in the cafeteria of
what was a school, but which is now the base of operations for his
Donetsk militia forces. He told us that, even now after the SMO began,
about 90% of the forces in Gorlovka are still local Donetsk soldiers,
and the other 10% are Russians. Again, this is something we rarely get a
sense of from the mainstream press.
Nikoli, while sitting in front of the makeshift chapel,
explained that, while he still considers himself Ukrainian—after all he
was born in Ukraine—he said that Donetsk would never go back to Ukraine
because Ukraine had “acted against God” when it began to attack its own
people in the Donbas. He made it clear that he was prepared to fight to
the end to ensure the survival of the people of Donetsk, and I had no
doubt that he was telling the truth about that.
At my request, I met with the First Secretary of the Donetsk
section of the Communist Party of the Russian Federation (CPRF), Boris
Litvinov. Boris, who has also served in the Donetsk parliament,
explained that the Communist Party under his leadership had been one of
the leaders and initiators of the 2014 Referendum in which the people of
Donetsk voted to become an autonomous republic and leave Ukraine.
According to Boris, about 100 members of the Donetsk section of
the CPRF are serving on the front lines of the conflict. Indeed, as
Boris explained, the CPRF supports the Russian SMO, only wishing that it
had commenced in 2014. Boris is clear that the war in Ukraine is one
over the very survival of Russia (regardless of whether it is capitalist
or socialist) and that Russia is fighting the collective West that
wants to destroy Russia.
Boris compares the fight in the Donbas to the fight of the
Republicans against the fascists in Spain in the 1930s, and he says that
there are international fighters from all over the world (Americans,
Israelis, Spanish and Colombians, for example) who are fighting
alongside the people of Donbas against the fascists just as
international fighters helped in Spain.
The last person I interviewed, again at my own request, was
Olga Tseselskaya, assistant to the head of the Union of Women of the
Republic of Donetsk and First Secretary of the Mothers’ United
organization. The Mothers’ United organization, which has 6,000 members
throughout the Donetsk Republic, advocates for and provides social
services to the mothers of children killed in the conflict since 2014.
I was excited that Olga opened our discussion by saying that
she was glad to be talking to someone from Pittsburgh because Pittsburgh
and Donetsk City had once been sister cities.
I asked Olga about how she viewed the Russian forces now in
Donetsk, and she made it clear that she supported their presence in
Donetsk and believed that they were treating the population well. She
adamantly denied the claims of mass rape made against the Russians
earlier in the conflict.
Of course, it should be noted that the Ukrainian parliament’s
commissioner for human rights, Lyudmila Denisova, who was the source of
these claims, was ultimately fired because
her claims were found to be unverified and without substantiation, but
again the Western media has barely reported on that fact.
When I asked Olga whether she agreed with some Western peace
groups, such as the Stop the War Coalition in the UK, that Russia should
pull its troops out of the Donbas, she disagreed, saying that she hates
to think what would happen to the people of the Donbas if they did.
I think that this is something the people of the West need to
come to grips with; that the government of Ukraine has done great
violence against its own people in the Donbas, and that the people of
the Donbas had every right to choose to leave Ukraine and join Russia.
If Westerners understood this reality, they would think twice about
“standing with” and continuing to arm Ukraine.
Daniel Kovalik graduated from Columbia
University School of Law in 1993. He then served as in-house counsel for
the United Steelworkers, AFL-CIO (USW) until 2019.
Mr. Kovalik received the David W. Mills Mentoring
Fellowship from Stanford University School of Law and was the recipient
of the Project Censored Award for his article exposing the unprecedented
killing of trade unionists in Colombia.
He has written extensively on the issue of international
human rights and U.S. foreign policy for the Huffington Post and
Counterpunch and has lectured throughout the world on these subjects. He
is the author of several books including The Plot To Overthrow
Venezuela, How The US Is Orchestrating a Coup for Oil, which includes a
Foreword by Oliver Stone.
