Democracy Wounded

A three-week journey to the capital upended my idealized view of Ukraine, exposing me to a starkly different reality of freedom and democracy than I encountered in the news.

 

Arriving with high hopes, I had dismissed concerns about eroding freedoms and systemic corruption as Russian propaganda. However, it didn’t take long for me to encounter a society with democratic institutions in shambles, where those wealthy enough to pay bribes face an entirely different set of rules.

 

The contrast between Ukraine and Poland immediately became apparent when I crossed the border. The E-40 highway, which stretches from France to Russia and beyond, deteriorates drastically at the Polish-Ukrainian border. It shifts from a well-maintained, modern highway to a poorly maintained back road. At times, the Ukrainian E-40 narrows to a single lane, with construction detours leading to dirt and gravel paths. 

 

I knew Ukrainian society faced poverty but underestimated the disparity between the EU and Ukraine. Still, on day one of my journey, I set aside my concerns about Ukraine’s deteriorating infrastructure, recognizing that wartime priorities took precedence, and I pressed on to Kyiv.

 

After settling into an apartment near Maidan Square, I began filming for the documentary Russia, Ukraine, and the Information War. I set out to explore Kyiv without an agenda. Instead, I intended to let the story come to me by capturing whatever piqued my interest. 

 

Military checkpoints and roadblocks quickly disoriented me as I traversed the city, but fate led me to the United Nations (UN) building. I paused to take a long shot of the UN letters on a vehicle, and a man startled me when he began shouting from a distance in Ukrainian. Unable to understand but eager to learn more, I paused and waited for him to approach before asking in English if he was speaking to me. 

 

In a clear suggestion that I was under government surveillance, he promptly warned me against “filming everything” as I “walked around” the city. Determined to learn more and to resolve a possible problem with the Ukrainian authorities, we continued conversing as we walked toward the military checkpoint, which blocked access to the presidential palace. 

 

I noticed his severe limp and asked whether he had served in the military. He informed me that he was a former National Guard member injured in duty. Understanding his connection to the Ukrainian security services, I assured him I would respect all restrictions on photography posted near military installations. Ironically, I witnessed one woman violating the order as she recorded a cell phone video outside the Security Bureau of Ukraine headquarters, where orders to intimidate journalists often come from.

 

This initial confrontation at the UN took new meaning a few days later when I returned to my rental car. I had parked my vehicle outside a building guarded by an armed soldier, confident it would remain safe, but to my dismay, I returned to find the rear window smashed.

 

I first considered if I had been the victim of a robbery attempt or if a snow plow could have kicked up a cobblestone. As I opened the driver's door, remnants of glass began to fall, and it became clear that no one could have accessed the car through the small circular hole in the window without causing the remnants of glass to fall out of place. As I looked at the back seat, I saw no debris other than glass, and the only item in the vehicle – the registration – remained. 

 

We’ll never know with total certainty precisely what happened. However, with my car under constant surveillance by an armed soldier, the preponderance of evidence suggests that a state actor smashed my window in an attempt to intimidate me – perhaps with the hope that I would immediately flee. This troubling incident aligned with local reports of “systematic work aimed at discrediting journalists,” which I carefully considered as I continued my investigation in Ukraine. 

 

Widespread reports from local journalists, think tanks, and international NGOs, like Human Rights Watch, confirm my account. The Ukrainian regime, unfortunately, focuses its critically limited resources on harassing journalists, including an alarming number who have gone missing during the war. 

 

For the first time, I seriously considered whether vandalism might escalate to physical harm or even imprisonment. Despite my fears and consideration of immediately leaving Ukraine, I decided to stay in Ukraine to document the war and share my experiences. I continued filming cautiously, practicing the one Ukrainian phrase I had learned – “thank you” – to de-escalate any future confrontations.

 

Though angry soldiers tried to intimidate me as I filmed in Bucha, identifying myself as an American journalist quickly defused each confrontation. Still, the constant intimidation left me both afraid and determined. After all, local journalists cannot escape government intimidation by simply speaking English. 

 

Meanwhile, it became clear that the mainstream Western media outlets were content to regurgitate the Ukrainian regime’s talking points when I uncovered a different experience. I determined to share my story even if I risked death or detainment at the border.

 

By the time I prepared to leave Ukraine, I didn’t think my disillusionment with the regime could become more stark, but I again underestimated the brutality of the Ukrainian government. Leaving Lviv for Poland just after curfew ended, I expected a brief wait at the border but found myself waiting seven hours in a queue just 500 meters from the border.

 

Sitting idle in a glass case of emotion, anxiety about being detained quickly became sorrow and depression as countless luxury cars sped past on the wrong side of the highway, bypassing the queue. Inching toward the border for seven hours while the wealthy constantly cut to the front of the line taught me a disheartening lesson about life in Ukraine: wealthy Ukrainians are free to circumvent standard processes and face an entirely different set of rules.

 

While military-aged men face stringent controls at the border, the government fails to ensure safe departures for women and children. 

 

I departed just after curfew, and as I inched toward the front of the line, those behind me urged me to close the gaps between vehicles. As daylight faded, it became apparent that the guards would shutter the border in preparation for evening curfew, and those who couldn’t reach the front of the line wouldn’t be allowed to leave. 

 

The frantic encouragement from those behind me underscored a harsh reality: freedom was a matter of millimeters in Ukraine. The thin margin of space between cars determined whether one would escape the war-torn nation or be left behind.

 

Reflecting on my experiences, it became clear that my earlier dismissal of corruption as mere Russian propaganda had been a misjudgment. I would have been prudent to consider the implications of the Ukrainian government’s corruption more seriously, like the dismissal of Ukraine’s corrupt Defense Minister and all six deputy ministers. 

 

According to Transparency International, Ukraine is ranked 104th out of 180 countries for corruption. This report places Ukraine below other nations notorious for corruption, such as Colombia and Belarus, highlighting a severe issue that undermines Ukraine’s democratic institutions.

 

During the seven-hour wait to re-enter the free world, I also reflected on Ukrainians’ views on corruption. One told me that “there was no more corrupt government in Ukraine [after 2014],” while another noted, “There is corruption, but still democracy.” My journey confirmed that Ukrainians strive to address corruption but often underestimate its impact and lack an accurate understanding of what a society without systemic corruption looks like.

 

When I passed the security checkpoint at Krakow airport, I finally felt safe again, but sorrow tempered my relief. The courage and spirit of the Ukrainian people deeply affected me as I saw their government hindering their democratic and freedom aspirations. My experience with Ukraine’s infrastructure and border control left me deeply concerned about the systemic issues that severely challenge Ukraine’s democratic aspirations.

 

Recent tragedies, such as the bombing of Kyiv’s largest children’s hospital, further highlight the critical need for addressing systemic corruption in Ukraine. These events illustrate the dire consequences of mismanagement and corruption during wartime.

 

While Ukraine faces legitimate security challenges during wartime, senior citizens, children, and those with disabilities should not endure such deceptive conditions during their departure from a warzone. Ukraine must immediately reform its border policies to ensure a fair and timely departure for those who seek refuge in the European Union (EU). 

 

The poor condition of Ukraine’s infrastructure further highlights the pervasive impact of corruption. The contrast is striking, with impoverished nations like Mali—where Ukraine has deployed its military as part of this war effort—offering better roads than Ukraine. Although wartime priorities are understandable, the failure to maintain critical infrastructure demonstrates neglect of fundamental needs that affect ordinary Ukrainians. 

 

The disrepair of infrastructure and the exploitation of border controls are not isolated incidents but part of a larger pattern of systemic corruption that affects all levels of Ukrainian society. After all, the Ukrainian people’s fight against corruption sparked the conflict a decade ago, leading to the ousting of President Viktor Yanukovych. Despite progress, corruption remains a severe threat, jeopardizing the hard-won achievements of the Ukrainian people.

 

Although Ukrainians aspire to combat corruption, democratic oversight is severely wounded and increasingly replaced by military control. Corruption infiltrates Ukraine’s borders, courts, and conscription officers, who accept bribes from those wealthy enough to buy their way off the front line. Meanwhile, those unable to afford bribes are dragged from their workplaces and homes and forced into combat. 

 

Corruption is just one issue among dozens that undermines Ukraine’s democracy. The regime’s insistence on keeping casualty figures secret, too, denies its citizens and allies information necessary for self-governance. Instead of Ukraine following the Russian practice of secrecy, Ukraine must adopt a transparent approach like the American model of promptly updating casualty figures. Even during wartime, greater transparency is essential to strengthen democratic governance and public trust.

 

Similarly, Ukraine must promptly hold elections. Rather than using martial law as a Soviet-like excuse to delay democratic processes, the Ukrainian government must find innovative solutions to uphold democratic principles. Historical examples, like the American elections in 1864 and 1944, show that democracy must persist amidst war to achieve a just peace.

 

The Ukrainian authorities must also immediately halt the surveillance and intimidation of journalists, which erode the foundations of Ukraine’s democracy. The lengths to which the Ukrainian regime will go to suppress dissent and control the narrative raises serious questions not only about the fundamental freedom of speech but also about the information that the Ukrainian regime withholds from its citizens and allies. 

 

Ukraine’s aspirations to join the EU are premature without reforms ensuring free and fair elections, a publicly available casualty count, robust press freedom, meaningful anti-corruption measures, and reinforced democratic oversight.

 

While condemning Ukraine for its shortcomings does little to advance justice and freedom in Ukraine, it’s clear that Ukraine requires prompt and significant reform. In light of this reality, a new government is necessary to usher in freedom for the Ukrainian people. Though bombastic and highly regarded by Western governments, President Zelensky has revealed himself as a brutal and oppressive ruler, incompatible with the values of democracy and freedom. The perception that his opponent, Vladamir Putin, similarly brutalizes his people does not justify the continuation of an authoritarian regime in Kyiv. 

 

Beyond encouraging elections and a government interested in freedom for the Ukrainian people, the European Union and the United States must actively support the Ukrainian people in their quest to emerge from this conflict as a robust and transparent democracy.

 

Regardless of how the conflict with Russia ends, Ukraine requires outside support to reinforce and repair its increasingly authoritarian democratic institutions, combat systemic corruption, and protect fundamental human rights like freedom of the press and freedom of movement. 

 

Postponing democracy and freedom until another tomorrow only makes this goal more distant.