On 26 November, former Kherson mayor Volodymyr Mykolaienko was honoured as one of one hundred winners at the third annual UP100 ceremony. After receiving his award, he stepped onto the stage with a speech he had written on the train from his native Kherson to Kyiv. Here is that speech in full.
I have spent a great deal of time thinking – both in captivity and after I came back – about what is happening to us, why it happened to us, whether we could have prevented it and how to stop it. And, you know, these are foolish thoughts. They bring nothing but bitterness and despair.
The answers are, in fact, simple.
Why did this happen to us? Because of geography. Geography is destiny. Because we could not take to the streets in protest against Putin in place of the Russians; we could not defend their media or their constitution. They were the ones who were supposed to do that. But they were quite content with their situation – and, let's be honest, they still are.
Could all this have been prevented? Perhaps, but there was only ever a slim chance – just a few percentage points – that it might not have happened. If only we had not given up our nuclear weapons, if only we had not surrendered our strategic aircraft, if only we had elected Chornovil instead of Kravchuk, if only, if only, if only…
We are still torturing ourselves with these "if onlys", as though we could return to the past and fix everything. But we can't. And these endless "if onlys" simply become pressure points around which we argue endlessly.
We have to accept reality as it is, even when we deeply dislike it and would rather live in 2008, pretending that no war exists.
But this is how we live now. Adults bury their children, the Russians kill civilians for entertainment, the country constantly hums with the roar of generators, and the front line stretches for thousands of kilometres. Meanwhile, the international community has still not decided whether we deserve to survive and keep our country.
This is our reality. And within it, one thought troubles me profoundly – that so many are swept up in this war, yet only at the surface.
I am not even speaking about so-called draft-dodgers, for they are only a small fraction of the Ukrainian people. I think we have no complaints against the people as such – because most of the people are fighting, and draft-dodgers are exceptions, not the rule.
My criticism is directed at those who speak for the people, decide for the people, and directly influence how the people live. I mean our politicians, and some of our journalists.
I find it hard to accept that so many within our elite have spent the past four years acting as if there is a spare Ukraine to flee to if this one falls. I understand that many influential figures have enough money and connections to live out their lives in Paris, Prague, or New York, recounting tales of how the people failed, how the people lost and how, of course, they warned everyone.
But most of us don't have a spare Ukraine – we only have this one. We don't have another life – we only have one, and we are ready to give it to Ukraine, here in Ukraine.
I am deeply frustrated by politicians who treat a government crisis not as a risk, but as an opportunity to enrich themselves. I cannot bear news written to crush the last functioning nerve cell in me, all for the sake of an extra click on some meaningless nonsense.
Everyone treats Ukrainians as a resource. But this resource is not infinite.
I would very much like Ukrainian politicians, at the very least, to learn to respect their own people – the people they serve. Because these people are all we have. They are the only ones who can save us.
There are people who endure everything, who overcome unimaginable hardship, who are stronger than death and despair. People who know no fear, for whom "Ukraine above all" is not just a phrase.
These people are our fellow Ukrainians. And it is thanks to their dedication that we are able to gather here and present one another with awards.
Everything we have is our people – the Ukrainian people. And it is in people that we must invest. In everyone who has stayed, in everyone for whom Ukraine matters. In everyone who turns away in disgust at the thought of Russians, everyone who fights on and holds firm.
I have seen Russia up close, and I am certain that there is nothing more vile, more despicable, or more utterly unlike Ukraine, than Russia.
Sometimes I feel that those who have not seen Russia as closely as I have cannot fully grasp what we are fighting against, or how vital it is not to lose.
If Satan has a residence on Earth, it is there, in Russia.
We must not, under any circumstances, become part of that hell. And we will not. Thanks to the extraordinary people who are killing this plague every day. And thanks to the fact that everyone who is not on the front lines must do everything possible to support those who are – with gratitude and devotion, every single day.
And then the time will surely come when we will no longer argue or say: "If only…"
Volodymyr Mykolaienko, for Ukrainska Pravda
Translation: Myroslava Zavadska
Editing: Artem Yakymyshyn