The Collapse of a Pro‑Russian Ukraine. How the War Will Change Political Life in Ukraine’s South‑East

The Collapse of a Pro‑Russian Ukraine. How the War Will Change Political Life in Ukraine’s South‑East

Ukraine’s successful counteroffensive around Kharkiv and Kherson means, among other things, that much of the Russian‑speaking South‑East is returning to the Ukrainian political space. This region has always held a special place in the country’s political life and, even after 2014, tried to offer some alternative to the country’s Euro‑Atlantic course.

However, the local elites’ orientation toward Moscow proved fatal for them — the Russian invasion led to their collapse, forcing a choice: either become open collaborators or join the patriotic consensus in subordinate roles. Now the Ukrainian South‑East must find new political leaders and a new identity.

Major changes

The Russian invasion struck first and foremost those regions of Ukraine that had been most loyal to Russia and that typically voted for pro‑Russian parties. Just two years ago, in the local elections of 2020, the pro‑Russian Opposition Platform — For Life, with Viktor Medvedchuk among its leaders, won seats in the regional councils of Zaporizhzhia, Mykolaiv, Odesa, and Kherson regions.

Despite the deterioration of relations with Russia and the threat of war, this part of Ukraine generally maintained a positive attitude toward the eastern neighbor — 53% in the East and 45% in the South. Although the share of supporters of joining Russia was small — from 22% in Luhansk region to 11% in Kherson region.

The Russian military invasion dealt a devastating blow to these sentiments — in May 2022 only 4% of residents of the East and 1% of the South had a positive attitude toward Russia. Instead, support for Ukraine’s NATO membership soared to record highs: to 69% in the East and 81% in the South. For comparison: a poll conducted 16–17 February this year, just days before the start of the war, recorded these figures at much lower levels: 36% in the East and 48% in the South.

Cultural and historical orientations also changed rapidly. Now Stepan Bandera, leader of the OUN, is viewed positively by 65% of residents in the East and 54% in the South (in 2021 only 11% of residents of the south‑eastern regions had a positive view of Bandera). Ukrainian is now considered the native language by 68% of respondents in the South and 53% in the East. Although bilingualism still dominates daily life — 49% in the South and 47% in the East.

This shift in public sentiment leaves no room for political projects built on a distinct south‑eastern identity and makes anything associated with Russia toxic. Local politicians must either fade away or adapt. A telling example is Odesa’s mayor Hennadiy Trukhanov, who opposed dismantling the monument to Catherine II until this summer but now ardently supports its removal.

The fates of South‑East leaders

In 2014, in Crimea and Donbas local elites did not face such problems — most of them smoothly integrated into structures created by Russia. So far, collaboration has not become a mass phenomenon in the occupied territories. For example, the Opposition Platform faction in the Kherson city council actually condemned the Russian occupation of the city. Local pro‑Russian politicians, with rare exceptions, were not ideological adherents of the “Russian world” but rather corrupt opportunists who opposed Kyiv mainly to protect their neo‑feudal privileges.

Only a few outright Ukrainophobic figures risked siding with Russia, such as Kherson regionalist Volodymyr Saldo, who was mayor of the city in 2002–2012 and now heads the Russia‑appointed administration. Saldo has so far retained his post, but many others have already felt the serious risks associated with such a shift.

Many remember the mysterious crash in which Saldo’s deputy Kyrylo Stremousov died on the eve of Kherson’s surrender. Under unclear circumstances, Oleksiy Kovalov — a Kherson businessman who had been a People’s Deputy from Servant of the People and later appeared at a meeting with Sergei Kiriyenko as a “representative of farmers” — was killed. It is believed that Ukrainian territorial defense killed Kreminna’s mayor Volodymyr Struk, a former prominent Luhansk regionalist. And former deputy Oleksandr Rzhavskyi, an active proponent of dialogue with Russia, was killed in Bucha by Russian marauders.

Given these conditions, switching to Russia’s side is a dubious prospect, but continuing to work in Ukraine also promises little comfort for South‑East politicians. The collaboration of a number of pro‑Russian politicians with the Kremlin gave the Ukrainian authorities free rein to fight all former political projects of the South‑East. 12 parties were banned, including the pro‑Russian Opposition Platform — For Life and the more moderate Opposition Bloc associated with oligarchs Rinat Akhmetov and Vadim Novinsky. The party bans were followed by the dissolution of their factions in the Verkhovna Rada and local councils.

Politicians connected to these projects scattered in different directions. Viktor Medvedchuk was first arrested and later handed over to Russia in exchange for Ukrainian prisoners. Opposition Platform leaders Vadim Rabinovich and Taras Kozak left the country on the eve of the Russian invasion. The more moderate wing associated with Yuriy Boyko and Serhiy Lyovochkin is attempting to register a new deputy group, but their chances of preserving their former position look illusory.

Unsurprisingly, some former pro‑Russian politicians are trying to adapt to the new reality by joining the patriotic consensus. This mainly concerns figures from the Opposition Bloc — the more moderate segment of the pro‑Russian spectrum that was oriented toward Akhmetov.

A prominent Opposition Bloc representative, Oleksandr Vilkul, who ran for president from that party, headed the defense headquarters of Kryvyi Rih. Mykhailo Dobkin, the well‑known former governor of Kharkiv region, went to war as a volunteer (his frontline photos wearing a cap with the UPA flag caused a sensation). In the patriotic camp are Odesa mayor Hennadiy Trukhanov, once considered pro‑Russian, and Kharkiv’s city head Ihor Terekhov, an associate and successor of Hennadiy Kernes.

What will happen

The political project of a “Russian‑speaking Ukraine” has failed. Its representatives could not formulate an attractive alternative to a Euro‑Atlantic course within the national state. Politicians of Ukraine’s South‑East preferred to emulate the Russian model of authoritarianism and thus became associated primarily with Soviet nostalgia and post‑Soviet corruption.

Paradoxically, the main blow to the positions of pro‑Russian forces was struck by the Kremlin itself, which brought its military machine down on historically loyal regions. In the current conditions, the Ukrainian authorities have finished off the remnants of pro‑Russian parties while doing so with the agreement of the majority of society.

Regardless of how the current war in Ukraine ends, it is hard to imagine future political projects similar to Viktor Yanukovych’s Party of Regions or Medvedchuk’s Opposition Platform. “The theme of friendship with Russia will drop out of our politics. Even the theme of peace and reconciliation in the context of ongoing aggression will be perceived as betrayal,” political scientist Volodymyr Fesenko is convinced.

Ukrainian officials have also repeatedly stated they will not allow the revival of political forces oriented toward Russia. One of the administration’s “hawks,” Oleksiy Danilov, said that “members and leaders of pro‑Russian parties must be deprived of the right to participate in Ukraine’s political life.”

However, the collapse of the old system, in which pro‑Russian parties provided a political choice for the South‑East, creates a problem of representation for that region. In wartime it is difficult to outline the future contours of Ukrainian politics, but one can assume that the vacant space will try to be filled by the pro‑presidential Servant of the People party, which already had good positions here before the war. New regional leaders will also emerge — a generation that rose up during the war: veterans, civic activists, and volunteers who embody a kind of military democracy.

New political leaders of Ukraine’s South‑East are already visible today — for example, Mykolaiv region’s governor Vitaliy Kim, who gained nationwide popularity through his video appeals during the defense of Mykolaiv in the spring.

One can expect the rise of nationalist populism with a regional shade of “Russian‑speaking patriotism” — language habits in the region are unlikely to change drastically within the current generation’s lifetime. However, there will no longer be a significant base for pro‑Russian forces. The large political projects of a “Russian‑speaking Ukraine” will irrevocably become a thing of the past.

Kostyantyn Skorkin, published on the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace and Carnegie Politika website