In April, the hotel owner from Konstantinovka said the situation was “absolutely fucked up”, with Russian artillery shelling his unit non-stop. Now, he looked visibly different: thinner and worn, but still motivated. “Our brigade is more than half the people of Donbas,” said Vasil, from the eastern region that pro-Russian forces have been fighting for since 2014, and which is now bearing the brunt of Moscow’s full-scale invasion. School in Konstantinovka that was hit by a rocket. Photo: Anastasia Vlasova/The Guardian For Vasyl and many in his unit, winning or losing is not abstract. If the front lines move further west, he will lose everything: his hotel, his house, his town and the people he knows. For the past eight years, he said he and others like him have watched the lives of people in Russian-held Donbass deteriorate drastically, and that he will do everything he can to prevent more of the region from being taken over. Russia has stated that taking Donbas is one of its priorities and is slowly bombing and then capturing cities. It now owns about 75% of the area. Vasyl represents a group of people in Donbas who are fighting for the region to remain part of Ukraine, either as soldiers, volunteers or as part of the local self-defense forces. The stereotype of people from Donbass is that they are pro-Russian, and the existence of people like Vasyl and their supporters is rarely highlighted. While respondents said that there are still many people with pro-Russian views, they also said that much has changed and that it is wrong to assume that those with pro-Russian views are the majority. In Bakhmut, a front-line town in the Ukrainian-controlled region of Donetsk, Viktor Shulik, a former principal, and his 23-year-old son Denys Shulik, who taught physical education at the same school, stand under the shade of a tree carrying rifles. . They had just walked four kilometers through the wheat fields from their positions in the front line. Viktor Shulik. Photo: Anastasia Vlasova/The Guardian Viktor and Denis are from Popashna, a town in the Luhansk region that was on the 2014-22 eastern front and was captured by Russian forces in May. Images of the city show it has been almost leveled by the shelling. This is Popashna, a Ukrainian city in the Luhansk region, occupied by Russian troops. What was once a safe home for many has now been completely destroyed. And it’s not just this city. Remember Mariupoli, Bukha, Irpin. pic.twitter.com/vbfsaiDXsA — Franak Viačorka (@franakviacorka) June 10, 2022 “War is not new to us, but this is the war of wars,” said Victor. “People must understand that they have come here to destroy us. It’s a cycle of history.” After their kitchen windows were blown out, they went to stay with friends in another Donetsk town, Liman, which like Popashna was eventually captured by Russian forces in May. Lyman was also bombed and Victor and Dennis decided to sign up. “We don’t have an apartment now, our block was set on fire by a rocket, so we are now homeless. We don’t have the school anymore because it was bombed, so we don’t have a place to work,” Victor said. “We took up arms because, what else can we do?” “They said we couldn’t stay together if we enlisted because I have military experience and he doesn’t and I’m old and he’s young, so we decided to join the Territorial Army instead,” Victor said. In 2014, half of Donbas was captured by Russia’s proxy forces after a coordinated propaganda campaign and military operation that gained the support of some of the local population. The takeover was done mainly by people connected to the Russian military intelligence service, but also by locals. After a series of battles in the first year, the front lines remained almost stagnant from late 2015 to 2022. Fighting was low-level compared to the current war, with shells being fired between the two sides infrequently. As part of the peace accords reached in 2015, Russia demanded that Ukraine allow representatives of the so-called republic to enter the Ukrainian parliament. Ukraine refused, arguing that it would give Russia a direct say in Ukraine’s national and foreign policy. The agreements were never implemented, and the Donbas region was transformed from a vast industrial area in need of modernization to one that was considered to have little or no future. In occupied Donbas, the isolated economy plummeted and civil liberties disappeared. Anyone who complained or went against the regime could be held without trial in detention camps, disappeared or even executed. Meanwhile, the war in Donbass was gradually ignored by many in Ukraine, who were able to go on with their lives as normal, away from the front lines. Those living in Donbas, on the Ukrainian-controlled side, however, were still feeling it, from shelling to unemployment, being physically separated from friends and family, and problems with basic services such as water, electricity and gas caused by the demarcation line. After the full-scale invasion, some returned to fight in Donbas with feelings of guilt. One of them is Yegor Firsov. Originally from Donetsk, Firsov became a member of the Ukrainian parliament after 2014 in Kyiv and later an environmental activist. He is now a volunteer army doctor. “For the past eight years, I lived in Kyiv. I ignored the war. I had a gun in my house for eight years and never practiced how to assemble it. I resent myself (for this),” said Firsov, who is from Avdiivka, a town still held by Ukraine that has been largely destroyed by shelling since the February invasion. Firsov said he signed up for Kyiv’s territorial defense forces and after seeing the aftermath of Russia’s atrocities in the Kyiv region, wanted to join the army. He knew the commanders from Avdiivka and spent a month training as a medic before being deployed. A Ukrainian soldier named de guerre Medvid. Photo: Anastasia Vlasova/The Guardian “People think that Donbass is exclusively a pro-Russian people, but there are many people who are anti-Russian and patriotic,” Firsov said. “People from the rest of Ukraine understand people in Donbass now. This war was not their choice. For example, the (displaced person) question was always about Donbas and now it’s from everywhere.” Many other Donbas natives have been fighting since 2014. Medved, a Ukrainian special forces soldier who likes to be known by his first name, said he understood Russia from the inside. “I was in Moscow when it all started [in 2014]. I had a good metal business there,” Medvid said. “But I was watching TV and thinking what the hell is going on.” He said his unit consisted mostly of Donbas locals aged 21 to late 50s, and that their former commander was 62 years old. Putin toilet paper in the office of Tetiana Khemion, a dance teacher in Sloviansk who is organizing supplies of basic equipment for units in northern Donetsk. Photo: Anastasia Vlasova/The Guardian Near the front lines, Tetiana Khemion, a dance teacher in Sloviansk, organizes supplies of basic equipment for units in northern Donetsk, where her husband is fighting. “I used to have a great life. I had dozens of students, I could afford everything I needed, I had the man I loved sleeping next to me,” said Khemion, in her office, where nearby streets have come under heavy shelling in recent weeks. She and other volunteers in the city fill holes in the military’s supply chain – sleeping mats, backpacks, socks, boots, helmets. “Unfortunately, a lot of effort was made for a long time to eliminate Ukraine in Donbass,” Khemion said. “Therefore, I do not deny that there are many people who are pro-Russian. But it all comes from the Soviet legacy. “Then there are other people who are indifferent because their homes are somewhere far from it,” Khemion said. “The only thing people should not do is forget the war like last time,” Khemion said. “I often think that if more people had cared before, things would be different now.”
