Volodymyr Mykolaienko: Three weeks before Kherson was seized, President came and held press conference saying we were secure in this direction

Author:  Olha Moskaliuk

Former Kherson mayor Volodymyr Mykolayenko considers August 24 his second birthday. It was on Independence Day this year that he returned home from Russian captivity. He had spent more than three years there after being abducted by the Russians from his hometown, which was already under occupation at the start of the full-scale invasion.

Before that, he was offered to collaborate, but he refused. Then he was lured into a meeting under false pretenses, seized, and taken first to Crimea and later to a correctional colony in the town of Pakino, in Russia’s Vladimir region. In captivity, he endured beatings, abuse, torture, psychological pressure, cold and hunger, but he held out. He is now undergoing treatment in one of the capital’s hospitals, where we met him for this interview. We began by recalling how he found out that he was to be exchanged.

- "They take me into the cell we called the ‘portal’ (the so-called ‘dispatch cell’ — O.M.)," says Volodymyr Vasylovych. "Journalist Dmytro Khyliuk was already there, as were Yevhen Vovk and another Dmytro, I won’t give his surname because he’s still there. He’s a young man, about 27–28, who seems to have lost his mind. He was completely inside himself, in his own thoughts, talking to himself, laughing. When our law enforcement interviewed us here, I told them about the guys’ condition, who needed help first, including Dmytro. I hope this will affect the exchange lists that are being prepared.

"So on August 20, they changed our clothes in that cell and forced us to write a statement saying we had no complaints against Russia, that everything had been fine. As if we’d just decided to pay a visit here for three and a half years and overstayed a bit (he smiles — O.M.). And the next day they sent us back to our cells and told us: ‘Ukraine doesn’t want to see you. We offered you, and they refused.’ Yet another lie. I was, of course, upset, but at the same time relieved that I’d spent only a day there and no more. Because there was a guy who had been in the cell with me: he spent three weeks already dressed for transfer and ready to go home. But they sent him back and are still holding him. What happened there, and why, no one knows. It’s all very hard…

"Then on August 23, they took me and Dmytro Khyliuk out. In literally two or three minutes, they changed our clothes, saying, ‘Come on, quickly, quickly!’ They marched us into the yard, shoved us into a car, and we drove to the airport."

"THE SENIOR OPERATIVE ANSWERS: ‘WE’LL FEED YOU! YOU WON’T DIE. WE’LL TIE YOU TO A CHAIR AND FEED YOU THROUGH A TUBE.’"

- Dmytro Khyliuk said he realized he was being prepared for exchange, they started feeding him up, bread in particular. What about you?

- That was in the third block; in our first block, no. They cut corners on bread altogether. Usually, it was wet and gummy inside, inedible. Everything was the cheapest stuff.

Once they gave us a whole loaf each. I ate almost all of mine and then felt very unwell. I thought: why did I do that? It was dark bread too, which my stomach couldn’t tolerate at all. So when they gave extra bread, I passed it to the guys. They’re young; their bodies are still growing.

- Going through your interviews, I noticed how you talk about the boys. It feels like you treat them as if they were children…

- They are children! You know, at New Year we would sometimes get parcels from Ukraine, socks, T-shirts, underwear, and a few sweets. But those, let’s say, "lads" would take a lot for themselves. They even swapped things out. The bags were labeled, for example: "condensed milk, 450 g." Inside it was Russian, and not 450 but 275 grams. Or the candies: they were supposed to be ours, but instead, there were some cheap local caramels. Still, it worked out to about a dozen and a half per person. That was such happiness! I’d keep a few candies, and when a holiday came, I’d give them to my boys, first of all to the youngest. Once I gave a candy to one lad on St. Nicholas Day. He’s young, about 25 but still a child. And he says to me: "You know, this is the first St. Nicholas gift in my life. No one ever congratulated me or gave me anything on this day." I was shocked. How can that be? Perhaps his family had Soviet habits and didn’t celebrate it.

When parcels arrived from Ukraine, they filmed videos of the boys being handed the gift bags. But they demanded that we thank Moskalkova and "Ded Moroz," even though the bags clearly said it was a Ukrainian parcel. You know, Russia is completely permeated with this desire to go back to Soviet times. They tell these fairy tales about how good it was back then. It seems to me that even this war, in their minds, is about restoring the Soviet Union.

- We’re talking about food and treatment. Our people are being kept there in horrific conditions. Meanwhile, Russian prisoners here get three meals a day, and everything is fine for them…

- By the way, something I noticed: when they brought us to the border for the exchange, we saw Ukrainian buses. Joy on every face: "That’s it, we’re home!" And next to us stood a bunch of those Russian POWs. I look at them, and they seem downcast. And I don’t understand: what was done to them that they look like that? Why aren’t they happy? Our eyes were shining; we couldn’t get enough of the air, here it is, the Motherland! And they were not like that.

- Because they have it better with us.

- I recall how, after World War II, those returning from German captivity were sent straight to Siberia. Maybe they’re afraid of that. I don’t know.

- And I remember how two years ago our serviceman Maksym Kolesnykov came back from captivity. They handed him an apple by the bus. As he admitted, it was the first fresh fruit in the entire year he’d spent there. His photo with that apple was carried by hundreds of media outlets; it went viral. So telling. It’s just beyond comprehension how you can treat people like that.

- Obviously, we didn’t see any vitamins there. Only in June of last year, and not every day, they gave us a tablespoon of some grated beet. Nothing else like that. So what did we do? They would take us out to these exercise yards, about three by three meters, with grilles, so we could "walk." But how? You pace in circles with a T-shirt over your head, tied over your eyes. They were afraid we’d see their faces (though they wore balaclavas anyway) or any details around us. You walk, guided only by your feet so you don’t stumble. Sometimes, a little patch of nettles would poke through by the fence. We’d pluck it, two or three leaves per person, just to get at least some vitamins. And you’re talking about an apple… An apple! Two nettle leaves there, that was already great! I tear off a leaf, my hand burns, and I’m pleased. Because it’s alive. My body will at least get something.

- What did you want most? I watched an interview with intelligence officer Ihor Pavliak where he said he dreamed of a Snickers in captivity.

- I dreamed of a small cup of coffee and a piece of cheese. And also a bowl of cottage cheese with sour cream and a bit of jam on top. That’s what I missed the most. And now I eat that cottage cheese with sour cream every morning.

- Has your sense of taste changed after captivity?

- It has… I’ve never been picky about food, but when you have nothing, that’s different.

Just yesterday, I stepped on the scale. In these three weeks, I’ve gained 4.7 kilograms. I eat from morning till night. Sweets especially. My body’s been short on glucose, there was practically none. I see something sweet and I can’t stop. I eat a bit, walk around, eat again. Round and round. I need to stop. Otherwise, it’s a short road to diabetes. So I don’t buy Snickers anymore. Though right after I came back, I did buy one, that happened (he smiles — O.M.). But now, no. Maybe some gingerbread, some cookies. That’s my weakness. Still, I keep myself in check so I don’t put on weight too fast, that’s a strain on the body too.

As for our boys, I know two who each weighed about 120 kilograms, and now they’re around 60. There were some who were under 50. Tell me, how can a healthy adult man weigh so little?!

- That’s horrific! By the way, how much did you lose?

- About 25 kilograms. With that diet, it couldn’t be otherwise. They fed you just enough so you wouldn’t starve. When I went on hunger strike, they told me: "We won’t let you die of hunger. We’ll tie you up and force-feed you. And after that — do as you wish."

- Tell me more.

- It was this February. They started beating us badly again. Everyone. We were running back, either from yard time or a check, I can’t recall  and they forced us to rush in and hunch over. I can’t do that, not just morally but physically. We dash into the cell, and some on-duty guard says, "Hey, you — come here!" He took me into the corridor and started wrenching my back. Says, "I’ll break you! I’ll make you bend!" Imagine this youngster, young enough to be my son at the very least, making threats like that.

The next day we run into the changing room again, take off our jackets. We stand there waiting for the command to run to the cell. Eyes down, head bowed so we wouldn’t see them. And that same guy comes up to me and just punches me in the face. Out of nowhere.

By then I’d been in prison nearly three years, but the reaction fires automatically. I straighten up on instinct to strike back, even though I know better (he smiles — O.M.). Reflexes. And he drives a kick straight into my chest — near the heart. Hit me so hard I dropped to a squat. The guys helped me back to the cell. They spent almost an hour bringing me around. I said, "They’ll either kill us here or cripple us. I see no other option but to declare a hunger strike. There’s no other way to force a change." I understood they don’t want a death on their hands, least of all Mykolaienko’s. That would make a splash.

So I declared a hunger strike. The guys backed me. I’m grateful to them. They understood it wasn’t emotion or a grudge, it was a necessity. They tried to eat quickly. They gave me their tea so at least I could drink. The duty officer reported it upstairs: "One of ours isn’t eating; he’s on hunger strike." Then a senior operative came, called me out, and asked what was going on. I said, "I have no other option. I’ll die. I’m stubborn. Either you stop the beatings, or I go all the way." He answers, "We’ll feed you. You won’t die. We’ll tie you to a chair and feed you with a tube." I thought to myself: I’ll clamp my teeth shut. But he seems to read my mind: "Then we’ll feed you through the nose." And he adds: "End the hunger strike. I promise they won’t touch you again." I said, "No, not until they stop beating everyone." Because that same day, after I declared the hunger strike, in the evening they took one of our guys, a Master of Sports of Ukraine in two disciplines, a big, strong man, out into the corridor and beat him so badly they tossed him back into the cell barely alive. They kicked him in the head. The marks were there, everyone saw. After the talk with the operative, those kinds of beatings in our block stopped.

"PRACTICALLY ALL THE GUYS SAY: ‘WE’LL DO THE TIME, BUT DON’T GIVE UP LAND FOR US’"

- How long did your hunger strike last?

- Four days.

- And they really didn’t beat you anymore?

- They might still smack someone on the ear or the back of the head. For them it’s a pastime. It's a kind of "joke." But the systematic beatings stopped.

By the way, a few days later that same senior operative came up and asked how I was after the hunger strike. But his main question was whether I could taste acetone. He said, "If you could, an irreversible process would already have begun in your body. As it is, you’ll recover." And they transferred me to another cell. And there, a new horror. In general, from 6 a.m. to 10 p.m., Russian radio blared non-stop. It was constant propaganda: that we’re scum, fascists; that we abuse people who have their own views about these events; that the Americans staged the Maidan; that Moscow priests are wonderful; and that Russia is proud of those Ukrainians who support it. In that cell the radio screeched even louder than in the previous one. It kills every thought, you can’t think at all. I saw some of the guys start to waver. They’d hear something and react: "It was on the radio!" Well, there’s all sorts of things written on fences too, but!

There was no hot water in that cell at all. In the previous one they at least gave it sometimes, sporadically on Friday, Saturday or Sunday. Here,  nothing. I asked why. "Because that’s how it is." I’ve got poor circulation; even in summer, my hands get cold. And here — cold. On the second or third day, I fell ill: some kind of palpitations, my blood pressure went up. And an inner state, as if you’re losing your mind. Later I adapted a bit. Got used to it.

Another thing I recalled. Around May 2023, they had a bout of hysteria. Then it repeated in October. They ran from cell to cell saying, "We’re ready to set you free. We’ve submitted lists three or four times, but Ukraine doesn’t want to take you!" Some of us were even allowed to call home, but only together with a slip of paper that read: "Ukraine doesn’t want to take me back. Go to the presidential administration, organize rallies and protests." They even set up some Telegram channels supposedly to post information about us. I’d have been curious to see their stories about how we "relax" in that "sanatorium." So the guys called home, until one told his wife, "They’ve put me forward four times, and still they aren’t releasing me." She replied in Russian: "Puskay ne svistyat!" There was a different verb, you understand (he laughs — O.M.). They were listening too, on speakerphone. They cut the call immediately, and that was the end of all the calls.

- And you weren’t allowed to call?

- No. I wasn’t that lucky. They treated me differently overall. It felt like the senior operative was a bit wary of me. Once we went to the so-called prayer room. There was some priest. After the prayer he says, "You probably haven’t confessed or taken communion in a while. Let’s do that." I went. And the chief operative stood right there listening…

- So much for the secrecy of confession!

- (he laughs — O.M.) That’s how the chief operative listened to what I confessed.

- He knew who you were.

- He did. There was also a talk with another senior operative. He says: "Some people want to come and talk about Kherson. You probably know something, you were the deputy mayor." I say, "No, you were lied to; I wasn’t the deputy mayor. I was the mayor" (he laughs — O.M.). He: "So will you talk to them?" Me: "Let them come." This was early May 2023. As I understand it, there were some Kherson locals somewhere whom they perhaps also wanted to hear, because he had a list (up to a dozen people) where he ticked my name. Two or three weeks later, some FSB guy shows up. His main question: "You do understand why you’re sitting here, right?" I play dumb: "Everyone’s sitting; I’m sitting too." He: "Well, they offered you to agree to cooperate. You didn’t agree." That’s about it. He likely came to make sure I wasn’t going to keep engaging with them. And I told him there are people there who have nothing whatsoever to do with the war. Farmers, or a man who went to gather firewood in a shelterbelt, they said he was some kind of spotter, and he’s been locked up for three and a half years. They just grabbed everyone they could to stock up on hostages. The philosophy of terrorists. But I keep repeating now that we discussed with the guys what negotiations might be possible, what way out there is. We understand Putin is digging in, and the main demand is territorial claims. Practically all the guys say: "We’ll do the time, but don’t give up land for us. We’re against it!" Even so, in every interview I call for speeding up the exchange process…

- But they don't give it back!

- I understand. But we still have to bargain somehow. There are parents over there too, sitting and waiting for their children. You can’t exactly go rally at the presidential administration. You can’t even write online, "Free my child," because they’ll make you believe you’re in the wrong. In any case, we need to step up this work. I can’t comment on the exchange process, because I’m not part of it. Those processes require silence so as not to do harm. But every time I simply ask: bring back as many people as possible!

When they exchanged us, there were nearly 150 people. From one camp, 34, from another 36, from ours — two. It’s been almost a month since that exchange. Where are the next guys? Now I’m constantly hoping someone from our Pakino (colony — O.M.) will appear so I can hug them. Just to be happy for them. Many of the guys who got out earlier called me to congratulate me. Some even came here to the hospital, supported me, told me where they are and how they’re doing.

- What do the doctors say? Will you be here long?

- No, I don’t think they’ll keep me long. They said I need to stay here a little longer, and then I can go wherever I want. My daughter came to see me while she was on a business trip. My niece was here too. And my cousin as well.

- And your wife?

- No. My wife is still there, at home.

- But you're in touch, right?

- Yes! We talk about 15 times a day (he smiles — O.M.).

- You've seen on the internet what's happening in Kherson now, haven't you?

- It’s very hard to look at those photos and videos of a devastated Kherson. I look, and I just can’t accept it in my heart. Part of me resists: it can’t be like this! Even though I know it is. I can’t even imagine how it will be when I come and see it with my own eyes. Even the abuse and torture in prison seem less frightening to me than what I’ll see in Kherson. It’s very painful…

When I was abducted, the destruction wasn’t like this. It wasn’t as massive and systematic as it is now. These days, drones come in daily from the left bank and chase after minibuses, because the Russians tell themselves a fairy tale: there are no civilians left — only soldiers disguised in civilian clothes. And they just go after these people. I don’t understand why the whole world isn’t shouting about this. Civilians are being deliberately killed every day!

"THOSE WHO SURRENDERED KHERSON HAVE THE BLOOD OF OUR SERVICE MEMBERS AND CIVILIANS ON THEIR HANDS."

- You’ve spoken a lot about how the full-scale invasion began for you. I want to ask about the start of the war. You were elected mayor in 2014, when Russia had already annexed Crimea and started fighting in Donbas. What were your thoughts then?

- We expected that after Crimea they would come to us as well. It was a very serious danger. We remember there were no Armed Forces like we have now. I was told there were in reality around five thousand Ukrainian soldiers capable of resisting. In the first days of the attack, they were simply shuttled from place to place. Overall, the army at that time was ruined, broken, plundered. It was frightening.

But we had a huge groundswell of people going out, digging trenches, setting up checkpoints. Still, if that Russian onslaught had come then, we wouldn’t have held the country. You can’t do anything against tanks with assault rifles. Though even then they wouldn’t have lasted here long because of significant popular resistance.

- They did dare to launch the full-scale invasion eight years later. Speaking about why Kherson fell so quickly, you’ve noted that our side didn’t even blow the bridges. You put it memorably: "All that was missing was rolling out red carpets for those Russian tanks to come in"…

- It’s horrific. They came into Kherson and literally on the second or third day they mined the Antonivskyi Bridge. I even sent photos to "the mainland," showing them mining its sides. People living nearby took pictures and passed them to me, and I, in turn, passed them on to our military.

I understand that some people in leadership positions within the security agencies in Kherson region were precisely those in whom the Russian side had an interest. That’s the "fifth column." Nothing surprising there. Take Saldo as an example among the political leadership — once a mayor, then an MP, with certain connections and influence, obviously. People like him were preparing for the arrival of their "brothers." As we saw, quite successfully. It was very painful to watch how, within a few hours, Russian troops were already outside Kherson on the left bank. There was a certain bewilderment. How could that be?! Just about three weeks earlier the President had come, attended exercises. He’d been told everything was fine. He even held a press conference saying we were secure on that axis. And then we saw what happened.

- Who surrendered Kherson?

- I don’t know. I can’t say. Let the investigators sort it out. I’m not a judge. I hope those responsible are punished, because they have the blood of our service members and civilians on their hands. Had the Antonivskyi Bridge been blown, the nearest crossing would have been Kakhovka. That’s easy to control, since the right bank is high and the left is lower. The next one is Zaporizhzhia. We could have regrouped forces and mounted some kind of resistance.

- You refused to collaborate when the occupiers offered it. But Saldo and Stremousov were in the front ranks…

- Sorry to interrupt. Who they were was obvious to everyone. We shouted ourselves hoarse that they were Moscow sleepers. They might as well have had "traitor" written across their foreheads.

I had no doubts about them. So when I found out, I wasn’t surprised. It’s a mistake of our society that we thought such people could be controlled or influenced. As for that same Stremousov, the security services said: "That’s just his political views. We’ve got him under control." You can’t control evil! It’s like Merkel said: "We thought if we gave Russia more money, they’d become kinder." Sorry, that was never going to happen! They spent that money on weapons and came to kill us. Evil is evil! You can’t make deals with it! That’s the main lesson of this war, never make deals with evil.

As a rule, there isn’t a single person who betrayed us whose betrayal would have surprised me. But there were a few people you might have suspected and they didn’t do it. I won’t name names.

- But what resistance the people of Kherson put up against the occupiers!

- That was incredibly powerful! I was just in awe. I’m proud of our people. I remember at one rally someone said, "Let’s march from Freedom Square to the Park of Glory." That’s where we have the eternal flame and a monument to ATO veterans and internationalist soldiers. We formed up. I took the center of the column, the front row, because I knew I wouldn’t be hiding. There was a big flag we carried. We went along Ushakova, turned onto Perekopska (the streets have since been renamed, so I don’t even know what they’re called now, I’ll have to check when I get back). We got almost to the TV tower. They had a guard post there, a tank, concrete blocks they peered out from behind. People told the Russian warship where to go (he smiles — O.M.). They stopped us. I looked back and saw Perekopska packed solid with people. And more were still coming from the side street. I hadn’t seen that many people even at a Soviet-era demonstration when they forced everyone out on May Day. I was thrilled! I was proud then, and I’m still proud of my hometown!

- I recorded an interview with a servicewoman callsign "Multyk," who, still a civilian then, spent a month and a half in occupied Kherson. She described the rallies like this: "Sometimes fear makes us do such things that we’re shocked at ourselves"…

- There really was that groundswell of people to show their stance. You scoundrels came to "liberate" us? From whom — from ourselves? You came to kill us! Admit it! Once I was walking past their so-called military unit. A young lad, an officer with a pistol, comes out. Cheerfully: "Good afternoon (he said it in Russian - ed. note) !" I said, "I don’t greet scum." I don’t use swear words, otherwise I’d have said exactly whom I don’t greet (he smiles — O.M.). He stared at me. I thought: now he’ll pull the pistol or what. I have no words. What was he expecting? That I’d hug him? Or say, "Wait there, I’ll just run for bread and salt"?

- Many of them really did expect that.

- They’d been told we’d be waiting for them with bread and salt. I remember how, on the eve of elections, the political technologist Pohrebynskyi ran a poll for Medvedchuk.

He "found" that supposedly 60 percent of Ukrainians were pleading: "Come here, Putin!" So the Russians expected we’d greet them with flowers. Remember how, in the first days of the war, Putin’s address was aimed at the Armed Forces of Ukraine? Like: lads, drive out your Cabinet and president, and together we’ll restore order. And then, when they got their asses handed to them, the rhetoric changed completely. Suddenly, the AFU were "a gang of terrorists holding whole cities hostage." As if we would have happily run out to welcome those Russian tanks, kiss them and shower them with flowers — if only our "terrorist military" hadn’t stopped us. Oh sure, that’s exactly how it was! (he smiles — O.M.).

- When, in captivity, you learned that Kherson had been liberated, what did you feel?

- It was a celebration! Even my imprisonment faded into the background. I came back to the cell beaming. They asked me, "What happened? Why are you so happy? Did they treat you to candies out there or let you have a smoke?" (he smiles — O.M.). I said, "I don’t smoke. They didn’t give me candy or cigarettes, but they confirmed Kherson is free." They whispered it to me. I was sure that if the city had been liberated, the region would soon be freed too. Unfortunately, it turned out to be more complicated. Back then, for some reason, I was convinced they’d already been driven back to Crimea. But they dug in hard on the left bank. You know, I’m very aware of who lives in Tsyurupynsk (Oleshky) and Hola Prystan. These are people with a strongly pro-Ukrainian stance. I always monitored voting results. Some of the strongest support for patriotic political forces in Kherson region was precisely in Tsyurupynsk, Hola Prystan and Skadovsk districts. Many people there had moved from western Ukraine, settled in, and live there. And when you see them under the Russians now, you understand they’ve built torture chambers and are abusing people. What can I say? If you don’t have a Russian passport, you can’t even buy medicine at a pharmacy. People are waiting for the Armed Forces of Ukraine, and they probably dream of liberating their towns just as I dreamed of Kherson. And it hurts terribly…

I’m planning to go to Kherson. I hope to help raise it from the ruins and at least lend a hand to those communities. I have no military experience at all, but I want to help in any way so they’re freed from that filth as soon as possible.

- MP and serviceman Roman Kostenko, who hails from Kherson region, also took part in the de-occupation of parts of the region and of Kherson itself. We recorded an interview after those events. He told me how he came home then and how the people of Kherson greeted our troops. I’ll quote: "Kherson is the city where the locals showed so clearly that they were sincerely grateful for their liberation. I haven’t seen emotions like that even in films! I think nothing like it has happened since World War II"…

- I think he’s right. As I was told, it was a grand celebration for the city. By the way, Kherson City Day is marked on September 20. I sent congratulations and asked that they be posted on the city council’s website and in local media. But you know, it seems to me it should be moved to November 11 — Liberation Day. We always celebrated March 13 — liberation from the Nazis. But now I think November 11 is the bigger holiday. For me, it’s the city’s true birthday — the day its freedom returned.

I explained why they needed to grab those public and well-known people and force them into collaboration. They needed us to join their lies, go on television and say that everything we had done before was a mistake and untrue. That Maidan, supposedly, was organized by the Americans, and people stood there only for money. They truly don’t understand us! This Ukrainian resistance, this spirit — that Ukrainians don’t accept lies or coercion. So they simply kill. They have no other means of influence or argument. We know their nature. When I returned to Ukraine, I learned that rallies in support of prisoners are held every Sunday. I try to take part every time as well. The first time I came, I saw women holding a large banner with men’s photographs. I thought they were the missing. I looked closely — maybe we’d been held together. And I realized they were the dead. They were killed back in 2022, but their bodies have not been returned. Imagine that pain: you know your husband, brother, or son is gone, and you don’t even have the chance to go to a grave — to talk, to weep. Yesterday I read that supposedly a thousand bodies were exchanged…

- Yes. And Interior Minister Ihor Klymenko said that Russia even handed over several bodies of its own citizens instead of Ukrainians.

- You see, they speculate even on that. That’s their true nature.

- Yet another confirmation of who they are. And we understand that we’re in an existential conflict with them. What do we do with that?

- As we said, they dream of restoring the Soviet Union, and they exploit that. I recall a Russian saying that Putin used to describe the "average Russian": "sated, drunk, and with his nose in snuff." He said how great it is to work with people for whom the main thing is to drink and eat, and how hard it is with the intelligent. That’s their goal, for everyone to have a "nose in snuff," and at home, they put it into practice. But here in Ukraine people think. How do you deal with that? Here, when you spew propaganda, people say: "Are you stupid? You’re lying to us! We understand everything!"

You know, I never thought I’d end up in the very heart of Russia, in a Russian prison where they try to turn you into a Russian. That’s their aim — to make us like them. With batons and propaganda they try to stamp that "Russianness" into you.

They say a nation can be "remade" quite simply and quickly. But not the Ukrainian nation! That’s why they beat it into you with batons, that you must be obedient and submissive, because the Russians are some kind of supernation above everyone else. And those Moscow priests preach that it’s a great blessing to be Russians. I’m a believer, but sometimes it irritates me when I hear "Russian Orthodox Christianity." I understand there’s very little Christianity there, it’s just Russian. Listening to their sermons, you’d think everyone fighting on their side will go to heaven, and we Ukrainians will die…

- And we know where they’ll really end up.

- Not a shadow of a doubt! It’s astonishing that these Russian priests have effectively declared a jihad on us. But what kind of faith is it that blesses war?!

- We’re different from them. That’s why I stress that what we have is an existential conflict. There are voices in Ukrainian society now saying the war will be over soon. But that’s not so. The situation is far deeper…

- Of course it’s deeper. Remember how Brzezinski said that without Ukraine, Russia will never have an empire? This is likely a struggle to resurrect that monster. They need it; they want to be, as they say, a "superpower." But in truth, with this war, they’ve slid, in my view, to the status of a regional power somewhere in Asia. I recall how Kherson was entirely Russian-speaking. One hundred fifteen nationalities lived in the city. In daily life, I often spoke Russian myself. The Russians, among other things, because of the language, considered that the roots here were Russian. They’d point out: Potemkin brought a charter saying Catherine founded the city. But people had lived there a century before! They simply decided there would be a city here called Kherson. I’m proud that the people of Kherson showed: this is a Ukrainian city, and it cannot be otherwise.

I’ll repeat: in captivity, they tried to beat this "Russianness" into us. Yes, you can destroy physically and morally, humiliate, break, kill. But we will never become Russians! I feel that one hundred percent. I saw the difference firsthand. They may force someone to take that Russian passport, but we won’t become Russians!

Olha Moskaliuk, Censor.NET

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