Traveling to Georgia and Syrian Border Helped Me Understand Russia’s War Crimes
We can’t go back and stop Russia’s previous atrocities, but we can hold them accountable and prevent more destruction.
In 2015, I went on a short but somewhat life-changing trip. My destinations were chosen during the long summer nights in my favorite bar in Kyiv, called Living Room. The owners are my friends; they came from Syria to study, then stayed in Ukraine to open this little place that gathered people from around the world to share feelings, ideas and drinks. I’ve spent more time in this bar than I did in any other place, discussing everything from why Sartre was a prick, to the war in Syria.
Most of these friends left their native land before the war, but their souls were still broken by it. They didn’t speak much about it. I could only sense some grasps of anger and despair when they couldn’t take their families out of that boiling hell. One of the regulars of the bar was a Syrian-Ukrainian who faced the war, and never once spoke about it.
They taught me a lot about acceptance, different shades of colors in everyday life, and about their culture — the diverse part of it, the one that has been systematically destroyed by the obsessed political regimes and religious extremism. We listened to oriental jazz a lot and even more we spoke about it. It felt like this music and this place collided and transformed into a magic sequence of events that brought me to the only possible solution: I needed to go, listen and see all of it with my own eyes. I couldn’t go to Damascus so I chose the nearest place possible that struck me with its mystery and overwhelming stories. I chose Beirut.
I started my journey in Georgia — a country that foretold the future of Ukraine to some scale. It was my fifth time there, I felt like I was home with their heartfelt people and generosity. I hung out in the bar where my friend worked; we were laying down on the rocky beach with a mountain hovering just above us, we danced, ate a lot of glorious Georgian food and enjoyed ourselves. I visited a family living up in the mountains as well — spent the whole day there stopping at every Tamara bridge on the way back. We discussed with locals why we despise Russians, what was happening in Abkhazia, and why Ukraine and Georgia are forever brotherhood nations. At that time, I didn’t comprehend the atrocities that were actually happening in Abkhazia and Osetia. I understand it now.
I stayed with my friends for a few days, then took a bus to Istanbul. It was a questionable decision because the bus took 22 hours. But the view was fascinating — never had I seen such beauty 22 hours in a row. I took pictures on my newly acquired camera from the bus window while three Iranian teachers (who for some unknown reason were traveling the same route) shared their food with me. In Istanbul, I spent wonderful days with my other friends, listened to all the jazz I could and enjoyed every minute. One of my friends worked as a doctor on the Turkish border. She told me a story about the body of a Syrian refugee that was found in the sea. They managed to identify him; he was a teacher. I didn’t comprehend the scale and horror of running from death but stumble upon it on the way. I understand it now.
From Istanbul, I took a plane to Beirut. The city met me in a peculiar manner — border control was suspicious of me and asked many questions about the reasoning behind my arrival. Solo traveling as a Ukrainian woman in Lebanon was not common. During the preparation for my trip, I heard many surprised gasps from people. How can you go to Lebanon? There’s a war there! The image of Beirut under siege and occupation has been very deep in the minds of people, as well as this ominous pre-war state that finds you in most reminiscences about the Middle East. This forgotten experience that you actually never had but have a clear vision of it. No need to say that there was no war at that time, however, I witnessed protests against the corruption which were peaceful and more problem-centered.
Beirut was a cure for stereotypes. Wars, occupations, terrorist attacks and the constant fight between forces uncontrolled by the people didn’t break the soul of the city. It had this cosmopolitan chic with bohemian cafes and a strong connection to identity and to culture. But this chic was covered with bullet holes — you could see them on the buildings and in the society that paid a big price for their diversity and perhaps, their will to exist.
Lebanon has a very complicated relationship with Syria, being occupied and bullied by it. Since 2011, the Lebanese have encountered a new kind of problem — violence affiliated with the Syrian war and refugee crisis. One day, I took the Beirut-Damascus road with my Ukrainian friend who had been living in Beirut for several years. As we approached the border with Syria, which coincides with the Antilivan mountain range, the Beqaa Valley opened up in front of us. There was an ancient lake, and deep in the fog — Mount Hermon, mentioned in the Old Testament in the Book of Enoch. When the angels decided to descend to earth to human women, they confirmed their intention on this mountain.
The religious sentiment towards this place didn’t have a particular effect on me, but the pressure of the ancient land was overwhelming. As well as Syrian refugee camps located in the middle of nowhere on the outskirts of Beqaa Valley, I saw them as a picture in the magazine — they were so distant and obscure, even though they were in front of my eyes. At that moment, I didn’t realize what kind of horrors those people were running from. I understand it now.
I understand now that no one has ever been held accountable for the war crimes in Georgia, Syria, Chechnya, Donbas and Crimea. Russia hasn’t paid for any of their crimes — the ones they committed before the Soviet Union, during, and after. Who needs to die in excruciating pain for the world to finally stop justifying Russia? If Syria was not convincing, was the massacre in Bucha enough? Or the unknown crimes committed in occupied cities of Ukraine?
During the Second Chechen War, the UN was very concerned (as always), and the American Secretary of State, Madeleine Albright, even said:
“Together with other delegations, we have expressed our alarm at the persistent, credible reports of human rights violations by Russian forces in Chechnya, including extrajudicial killings…. The war in Chechnya has greatly damaged Russia’s international standing and is isolating Russia from the international community.”
Needless to say that the isolation of Russia did not happen back then, nor did it happen after. Not economically, not diplomatically, not mentally. The world did not take the threat seriously, while Russia has been growing its propaganda influence, corrupting politicians and public speakers, and strengthening diplomatic and economic ties with strategically important countries. I can see many sentiments that the West needed to stop Russia just after the Soviet Union collapsed, some refer even further — to the Churchillian approach that bolshevism was the biggest tyranny of all.
“Communism makes attacks on the human spirit and human rights. My hatred of bolshevik and bolshevism is founded not on their silly system of economics or their absurd doctrine of the impossible equality. It arises from the bloody and devastating terrorism which they practice in every land into which they’ve broken and only by which they criminal regime can be maintained.”
— Winston Churchill
We can’t go back and stop Russia before it’s too late. But what we can do is to hold them accountable for their crimes.
I understand how helpless you can feel when you see all of these atrocities. How distant they are for you, even if you feel the pain and have all the sympathy towards victims. But let’s take the road to understanding the horrors of Russian wars together, and see what everyone can do to stop the aggressor and punish these criminals:
- Always remember that Russia is lying. You can’t take what they are saying seriously — neither the Putin regime, nor the so-called ‘Russian liberals’. All of them supported the invasion of Crimea and Donbas, all of them were there during every other crime Russia committed. Every time someone is questioning whether Russia is actually an aggressor or maybe we can justify them, remember: Russians will do everything to create an image of victims. They did the same during the Soviet era, it’s nothing new.
2. The Russian war in Ukraine is ideological; it’s not just a pure aggression. They want to destroy Ukraine and Ukrainians, and have talked about this directly. Putin’s speeches have a genocidal flair, while his soldiers in Ukraine are torturing, raping and murdering women and children. They left “Z’ signs on houses they’ve looted. They share their ‘victories’ with their wives and children, receiving support. They came to my land to destroy my country and Ukrainian identity as a whole, and they use every method to do so. Before justifying Russians ask yourself a question: why am I questioning this at all? Why do I see the news about 14-year old Ukrainian girl being raped by 5 Russians, but still believe that it’s only Putin?
3. The media and the public have been supporting Russian propaganda. That’s an answer to the question above. For years and years, the world was questioning whether Ukrainians attacked themselves in Donbas and shared more stories about imaginary neo-nazis in Ukraine than about Russian atrocities. You could see some documentaries now and then about Russian crimes, the Wagner Group’s presence in war zones, the violence of Kadyrovtsy, and the reality of Russian participation in wars. But what we see now is how the media are learning to speak about Ukraine for the first time. Offices of many big media institutions were located in Moscow, and they covered Ukrainian contexts from there, often without a real understanding of the situation. So when you feel like you know something for sure (for example, that the Azov unit is neo-nazi), try to think against yourself. Why do you know it? Are you sure that what you know is correct?
4. Listen to what Ukrainians are saying. We can speak Russian, we have a better understanding of their political landscape and social fluctuations — more than anyone else. We know what they are actually saying, we also see them with our own eyes. However, if you can translate the words, you can’t translate the mindset. We know how and what Russians are thinking, and why. Listen to us and try to hear.
A video of a woman playing piano in her destroyed house:
5. It didn’t start on the 24th of February in Ukraine. It started long ago — modern Russia has been committing war crimes around the world for years. I’ve seen the devastating results of it with my own eyes in Georgia, with Syrian refugees and from the stories of my Syrian friends. I saw it in Donbas and Crimea but I never fully digested it until Russia came into my hometown. Don’t wait until the war comes to your house. Instead, try to support the actual victims, check every piece of information, and do all that you can to condemn Russians for their war crimes.
We need to make sure that they are held accountable this time for all the horrors they put upon the lives of others. Whether it’s in Syria, Georgia, the Central African Republic, Ukraine, or any other place in the world that deserves to flourish. Not to be murdered in cold blood by someone who will never be punished.
