People like to tell me that Ukraine should ‘fight its own wars’. Here’s how I reply

As a Ukrainian American, I am not a neutral observer of this nightmare. Nor do I want to be neutral

People attend a ceremony in tribute to fallen defenders of Ukraine (via REUTERS)

As Russia continues its military buildup on the border with Ukraine, many of us directly and indirectly affected feel like violence is becoming inevitable. The question is — what occurs after Russian president Vladimir Putin ramps up his war machine? Are we going to call a spade a spade?

Although I grew up in the United States, I was born in Ukraine, and most of my extended family continues to live there. I am not a neutral observer of this nightmare. Nor do I want to be neutral.

Online, I am constantly bombarded by sneering commentary — from both far-left “anti-imperialists” and far-right “let’s go Brandon” types — that Ukraine should “fight its own wars”. But the truth is that Ukraine has been fighting its own war with Russia for years now — since 2014, to be precise, when Russia first annexed the Crimea and destabilized parts of the Ukrainian east.

Ukrainains, eager for stronger ties with the EU, had overthrown a corrupt pro-Moscow president then, and they’ve been paying in blood ever since. Today, Ukrainians ask for training and military aid, not American boots on the ground.

Ukrainians also desire and need clear red lines for Putin — for example, cutting Russia off from SWIFT and otherwise devastating its economy should absolutely be on the table at this crucial time.

Muddying the waters is a favorite tool of Russian propaganda. We’re told it’s Russophobic to oppose Putin’s naked aggression; we’re told we “want World War Three” when we correctly point out that Putin shouldn’t be threatening Ukraine unopposed. People who lack information about these issues are more likely to fall for these simple but disingenuous narratives.

Putin was a KGB desk jockey with a lackluster career who rose to prominence by first being a useful lackey to Russian statesmen. This is a man who is permanently obsessed with his status, as he has been ever since he watched the Soviet empire fall to pieces. I was a small child when it happened, but I can still remember and understand the bitterness and confusion of that time. What I can’t understand is stewing on it — and then taking it out on millions of random people.

Ukraine is a struggling, but beautiful and democratic nation. Last spring, I buried my father there, outside a village where I can trace my lineage back at least six generations. Flowers bloomed on his grave all through the summer, in that place that will always be a part of me, the place where my cousins are raising their children and caring for their elders. Having all of that threatened because some rich people in Moscow are aggrieved by Ukraine’s independence is a curse I wouldn’t wish on anyone.

Today I am told that I must accept that Russia wants its “great power” status back, and to hell with the fact that my relatives may die or be imprisoned so that Russia may get it. But what is the definition of a great power?

Is it “great” that Russia is a fantastically corrupt and cynical society, where artists are randomly jailed and a deranged Chechen strongman runs a state-within-a-state where gay people are rounded up and tortured? Perhaps there is “greatness” in Russia’s failing space program? Am I supposed to think that a “great power” is a place where history is rewritten, and even criminalized, while Joseph Stalin, a mass murderer who rivals Adolf Hitler, is venerated?

Enough is enough. We should not be playing this game anymore. There is no “greatness” in Putin’s approach, only a vicious desire to secure his wealth and power, and the wealth and power of his friends. The emperor is naked, ugly, and bitter, and we should not accept his nightmare version of reality.

Natalia Antonova is a Ukrainian American writer and investigator based in Washington DC