Powerful Message from Ukrainian Journalist

When the Russian invasion of Ukraine began, many of us who were concerned about that country and its people were looking for reliable sources of accurate information on what was going on inside that country with the military situation, internal politics, welfare and moral of the people, and so much more.

Over the past 3 years, I have followed a few dozen politicians, soldiers, journalists, professors, economists and scientists in Ukraine who have been very valuable to me in getting the full picture of what is going on as that country and its brave people struggled to survive against a barbarian Russian horde, European allies largely unprepared initially, and the dramatically changing political landscape of their most important ally - the US.

Through it all, the most consistently insightful, interesting and reliable source of news and commentary on a daily basis for me has been Ukrainian journalist Illia Ponomarenko. From time to time, I have shared things from him in my daily Bulletins on politics. But he just made a post on social media where he reflected on how far Ukraine’s people and culture have come through this epic struggle, and how it has made their country stronger and more united than ever.

We ended up following each other on social media through most of this, although I am sure I learned more from him than he did from me.

Here is his post in its entirety. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

You know what the single most profound, far-reaching effect of Russia’s war against Ukraine is? Ukraine has finally learned to truly respect itself.

We are no longer some godforsaken "Russia's backyard", where corrupt mafia clans don’t dare to make a sound without the Kremlin’s permission, and where everyone lines up to lick Moscow’s boots. We are a nation that, in just a few years, built from scratch a capable army — the one that is now heroically fighting Russia, one of the largest military powers in modern history. To stand up to such an adversary in the biggest war of our time, Ukraine has been sustaining World War I-scale mobilization and made revolutionary breakthroughs in military innovation.

Today, Ukraine possesses one of the most capable armies in the world, with cutting-edge, real-time experience in modern warfare—able to resist an enemy that is vastly superior in everything. We have preserved a democracy and a brutally competitive political life like neither Russia nor any of its satellites country ever had. Our president, once a populist comedian, has grown to be a leader of the free world—someone applauded by entire nations in the halls of St. Peter’s Basilica.

We are no longer the punchline of imperial Russian jokes. No longer “village bumpkins,” no longer “little brothers.” We have finally remembered who we are—descendants of the ancient Slavs, the Vikings, the Zaporizhian Cossacks. Our capital is not a provincial town but a sacred, ancient Christian city—the beating heart of this part of civilization. And its holy sites belong to us. No one else. We no longer feel ashamed of our language or our culture. No longer do we see them as “backward,” “provincial,” “second-rate,” as Moscow has insisted for centuries.

We have long since broken out of Russia’s cultural orbit: there’s no more garbage Russian pop music on the radio, no endless cop shows from Moscow on TV, like we endured for decades. Instead, in the midst of war, we’re witnessing a cultural renaissance unprecedented in our history—Ukrainian music, cinema, and literature are flourishing. In Kyiv, tickets to classic Ukrainian plays are sold out six months in advance. We’re no longer a patchwork “post-Soviet country,” split between a “Russian-speaking southeast” and a “Ukrainian-speaking west.” We are a united nation. A person from Dnipro and a person from Lviv now share the same values, the same mission, the same grief, the same culture and history — and the same enemy. People from Kharkiv fight the Russian invader just as fiercely as those from Ternopil.

No one laughs anymore at the idea of a Ukrainian navy— our naval drones have humiliated the Russian Black Sea Fleet. We shoot down enemy fighters. Our drones and missiles now strike oil depots, airfields, and ammunition bases across Russia nearly every night. Ukraine is no longer a country you can show up to, toss some exploitative resource deal on the table, and sneer, “Sign this — you’ve got one hour.” No. Now you’ll be escorted out of the room with your hands shaking — and only after that will a balanced, civilized, mutually respectful agreement be negotiated. Yelling and threats no longer work here.

We are a country whose Chief Mufti has volunteered to become a combat medic at the front. Our Chief Rabbi works daily to advocate for Ukraine around the world. His son died in combat, defending Ukraine with a weapon in his hands. Ukraine is now holding our ground — honorably —against a whole axis of evil: Russia, Iran, and North Korea. And Russia has suffered devastating defeats and drained its once-vast Soviet stockpiles of weapons and ammunition.

And along the way, we’ve shaken up global politics. We’ve earned the trust and support of dozens of nations. We’ve broken through walls of Western fear, hesitation, and passivity, the appeasement. Ukraine’s victory in the Battle of Kyiv in 2022 changed the course of European history when the best military minds were giving us 72 hours.

You can’t imagine how often we still find ourselves saying to each other, half in disbelief: “Can you believe this? Who would’ve thought our poor Ukraine was capable of this?”

What more can I say? Ukraine has already proven itself a great nation. We have countless enormous problems—and they’ll require titanic effort to overcome. But if we endure this war of annihilation, this country will have glorious future.