I am on a train. It is a long journey back to London and I am sad to be leaving Kyiv, again. But I am looking forward to seeing Marta and Bunster. On that Sunday night, before I left for Ukraine, I was putting Bunster to bed and he says to me “Daddy, can we all go to Ukraine one day?” I look at him and said “I hope so Bun man”. He then says “Can we stay there forever?” I almost started to cry, but I know this naughty little Bunster and I say to him curiously, “How come you want to be in Ukraine?” And he says “Because my toys are there?” Ah, the honesty of children. I got a cool present for this little man from an awesome toy shop in the city – he is going to love it.
“The EU and the US alike — have taken far too long to cut off Russian gas and oil from world markets. The US government has stopped all military aid to Ukraine — what continues are shipments of US arms to Ukraine that are purchased by Europeans, as well as European arms shipments. Even though the Ukrainian need is great and the Europeans are paying for everything, the United States has been slow to make deliveries. We are not sending the Ukrainians the air defense they need to protect themselves. This is one reason millions of people are in the cold, and why civilians die almost every day.
The major policy of the Trump administration has been to use the word “peace.” Peace comes when an aggressor ceases to aggress and the country that is attacked can rebuild. But Trump has been unable to muster a policy that would change Russia’s incentives. He has difficulty even presenting the war as a war, rather than as a misunderstanding about real estate; his administration issues official statements that praise Russia for its desire for peace, even as the offensives continue missiles fall. Trump has put pressure on Ukrainians, who, unlike the Russians, have to fight. For Russia, this is an ego war, a war by a dictator for his own legacy. For Ukraine, this is a war of national sovereignty and physical survival.“

“Ukrainians shouldn’t have to be resilient. If Ukraine’s partners were to give the kind of support Kyiv continually begged for, civilians would not have to be suffering.
Praising their resilience is like standing on the shore, watching a person struggle not to drown in a riptide. Instead of sending a lifeboat to save them, you praise them for being such a strong swimmer. If you decide a nation is resilient, you shrink your obligation to take any action to help them.
Resilient people always figure it out on their own, right?
The continued repetition of a resilience narrative is also damaging because it slowly softens outsiders’ comprehension of what war is over time. Foreign audiences don’t want to think about the ever-deteriorating conditions civilians are forced to live in — they want to read about how bars stay open during a blackout, or focus on the ways in which Russia could be losing.
It’s uncomfortable to think about how the trauma of Russia’s war in Ukraine is affecting real people, every day, and how it will seep down through generations. It’s far more digestible to view the war through the lens of resilience because it transforms a nation’s suffering into a positive, hopeful, character-forming experience.
We love a story where a hero finds strength amid immense adversity, because in our culture, we’re taught that the character who chooses to be resilient always wins, no matter the odds.
Resilience is, at its core, a positive character trait when you have a choice in how to act. When we talk about Ukraine’s resilience, we omit what Ukrainians know very well — that Russia isn’t going to stop its war until Ukrainian independence is crushed. Ukrainians have no choice but to continue and resist Russia’s demands.”






