Abdelrahman
The Continuing Conflict in Ukraine: A Closer Look at the Ongoing Struggles
From a broad perspective, the challenges Ukraine encounters after three years of intense warfare with Russia appear straightforward. In the previous year, Moscow has escalated its attacks on civilian targets, conducting near daily strikes involving drones, missiles, and bombs on cities throughout Ukraine. Key infrastructure, including power facilities, has been persistently attacked. This has led to mass displacement, with millions forced to flee the country since 2022, unable to return home. Despite Ukraine’s efforts to maintain its defenses, its soldiers continue to endure injuries and fatalities.
Given these severe consequences, one might anticipate that the citizens of Ukraine would favor any initiatives to conclude the war—an expectation shared by many analysts in the West. While it seems unlikely that Russia will achieve substantial new territorial gains, Ukrainian forces face considerable difficulties in reclaiming lands currently held by Russia. Under this perspective, pursuing a ceasefire and providing relief across most of the country should be prioritized.
However, the sentiment among Ukrainians differs significantly. Following U.S. President Donald Trump’s declarations about swiftly ending the conflict, and in the backdrop of potential reductions in military aid from the U.S. and its allies, Ukrainians have been compelled to seriously consider a ceasefire. Unfortunately, this notion sharply contrasts with the vision of victory articulated by Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky in late 2024. Many citizens harbor deep skepticism toward any potential agreement, believing that opting for a poor settlement would be worse than refusing to negotiate altogether. Indeed, to Western audiences, Kyiv’s relentless commitment to fighting—often engaging in extensive, grueling confrontations to protect devastated regions—may appear irrational.
This ongoing support for the war can, in part, be attributed to the country’s remarkable resilience. Despite relentless attacks on civilian life, Ukrainians have shown an ability to adapt, restoring some level of normalcy. Following the initial economic turmoil of the invasion, Western financial backing—currently comprising 20% of Ukraine’s GDP—has fueled an average economic growth of 4.4% over the past two years. Household incomes have seen real growth, and inflation remains relatively low. Furthermore, since mid-2023, Ukrainian drones have successfully countered the threat from Russia’s Black Sea Fleet, revitalizing maritime trade routes that have boosted exports by 15% over the past year. Presently, approximately 40% of the weaponry utilized by Ukraine’s armed forces is now produced locally, a significant increase from virtually none in 2022. While these changes do not diminish the severe hardships posed by the war, they contribute to a societal adaptability that may not be immediately apparent to outsiders.
Even more crucial to the Ukrainian perspective on the conflict is the profound and complex impact of Russian occupation. For Ukrainians, the reality of occupation extends beyond the full-scale invasion of 2022, tracing back a decade to Russia’s annexation of Crimea and parts of eastern Ukraine’s Donbas region in 2014. The grim realities of Russian military governance have affected not just the southern and eastern regions, where the majority of the conflict is concentrated, but also areas near Kyiv during the initial phases of the 2022 invasion, when Russian troops committed widespread atrocities in the suburbs. Ukrainians recognize that the threat of Russian control reaches far beyond occupied territories—impacting the six million people trapped within occupation zones and affecting the lives of countless displaced individuals who have relocated further west, as well as officials in Kyiv whose family members remain under Russian rule.
Many Ukrainians see the human rights abuses, political oppression, and war crimes occurring in occupied areas—not as isolated incidents—but as integral components of Russia’s wartime strategy. The issue lies not only in the treatment of people currently under Russian control but also in how Moscow’s influence undermines the stability of the entire nation, even without seizing more territory. The Kremlin’s behavior has shown that while pretending to seek diplomatic solutions, it utilized the conflict’s frozen phase from 2014 onward to establish a foothold for its larger military objectives. To put it plainly, Russian control over any portion of Ukraine undermines and threatens Ukrainian sovereignty as a whole.
The U.S. administration’s calls for a ceasefire have fueled speculation about negotiations aimed at freezing the conflict along current frontline positions. Such a scenario will require Russian cooperation, but as of early 2025, there were minimal indications that President Putin was ready to engage in discussions. Whether a deal is achieved or not, the presumption that a ceasefire would eliminate Russia’s primary threat to the Ukrainian population fails to comprehend the conflict’s true nature. Over the past three years of warfare, Ukrainians have overwhelmingly endorsed their military efforts—driven not only by national pride but also by the stark realization that living under Russian occupation presents little hope for a dignified existence. Most Ukrainians currently see the option of continuing the fight as far more favorable than the terror inflicted by Russian control. Failure from the West to understand that Russia is exploiting occupied Ukrainian territories to destabilize the entire country risks making a ceasefire even more detrimental than ongoing warfare.
Anticipating Future Challenges
Since Russia’s initial territorial grabs in 2014, it has commandeered approximately 7% of Ukraine, impacting around three million individuals. Since launching its full-scale invasion in 2022, Russia has nearly tripled its territorial holdings. By early 2025, Russian forces had gained control of about 80% of the Donbas region and nearly 75% of the Zaporizhzhia and Kherson areas. Though definitive statistics are challenging to obtain, estimates suggest that around six million people—over 10% of Ukraine’s total population—now live under Russian jurisdiction, including 1.5 million children. This figure persists despite many residents fleeing from these regions.
Within the extensive territory now occupied, various scenarios unfold. Long-standing Russian-controlled areas in the eastern Donbas region have faced neglect and seclusion. At the onset of the 2022 invasion, local males were disproportionately drafted by Russia and have borne some of the highest casualty rates. Other regions near the Russian border or southern coastline, such as Kherson, Luhansk, and Zaporizhzhia, were overtaken with minimal resistance, allowing quick establishment of Russian military rule. Although these territories endured comparatively fewer bombings, many residents faced both physical and psychological coercion. The Kremlin has also targeted these areas for extensive resettlement efforts, filling them with Russians, including military personnel and their families, to showcase Russian dominance. Conversely, communities located near the conflict frontlines have experienced the brunt of the war. When unable to seize a town or village initially, Russian forces destroy it, forcing civilians to flee and compelling Ukrainian troops to retreat after prolonged combat. As a result, areas like Avdiivka and Bakhmut, once battlegrounds, now lie in ruins under Russian control.
For Ukrainians, the crucial concern is not merely the expanse of territory under foreign control. Despite small advances made by Russia along the frontlines in the preceding year, the overall territory in its grasp has remained relatively unchanged since late 2022. Instead, the pressing threat originates from how Russian authorities impose their rule over local populations and utilize this control to further Moscow’s military objectives. Right from the start, Russia instilled an atmosphere of fear in seized villages and towns. In the aftermath of the early invasion, local residents in occupied regions were often confined to their homes, with those attempting to escape frequently shot by Russian forces. During active combat scenarios, Russian troops have been known to employ Ukrainian civilians as human shields, compelling them to remain in their locations to deter retaliation from Ukrainian forces.
Once Russian control was established, many residents faced a daily struggle for survival. Seeking medical care, food, and water or simply avoiding bombardment left little room for rebellion against the occupiers. The invaders disrupted Ukrainian internet and mobile networks, replacing them with their own to isolate the occupied populations and limit communication with the rest of Ukraine. Additionally, Russia instituted a filtration process to “register” Ukrainians—a method previously used during the Chechen wars. Officially aimed at checking documentation, in practice, this process identified and detained those deemed “disloyal,” particularly military-aged men who had attempted to flee. Throughout the war, Russian forces have maintained this filtration procedure in occupied areas and along the Russian border, often detaining individuals based on flimsy allegations related to their political beliefs or social media activity.
In regions where local population centers remain relatively intact, residents confront a different style of coercion. Early reports revealed that Russian officials generated lists of individuals marked for detention or execution; subsequent actions confirmed the lists’ validity. Specific targets include former military personnel, civil servants, activists, volunteers, and local journalists. Community leaders and mayors—key figures for local information—are often pressured to collaborate; when they refuse, the occupiers rely on potential informants or foster a regime of fear. For example, in Sofiivka, a district near the Sea of Azov controlled by Russians for the first 18 months post-invasion, around 40 residents have been detained by occupying authorities, with one reportedly tortured to death and others still imprisoned for years.
Yet, virtually anyone with perceived pro-Ukrainian ties remains vulnerable. As of early 2025, Ukraine’s Prosecutor General’s office has recorded over 150,000 violations of the Geneva Conventions perpetrated by Russian forces since 2022. The Reckoning Project—a collective I co-founded dedicated to documenting war crimes—has compiled over 500 testimonies detailing systematic practices of abduction, arbitrary detention, and torture. These brutalities have been documented across various regions captured by Russian troops, indicating a consistent approach rather than isolated incidents driven by specific military units. In one instance in Berdyansk, a city with a population of about 100,000, Russian forces detained an array of local people, including farmers and teachers, often merely due to their past affiliations with Ukrainian state institutions.
The cumulative toll of these abuses extends beyond the immediate victims. They serve as a stark reminder to residents in Ukrainian cities such as Odesa, Kharkiv, Chernihiv, Sumy, Dnipro, and even Kyiv—that similar atrocities could befall them. Although most of Ukraine’s largest cities have not come under Russian control, the proximity to danger remains acute, with almost everyone having relatives or friends affected by the occupation. Even in the nation’s western regions, where over 4.6 million individuals have been displaced due to three years of conflict, the stories of hardship and suffering echo throughout communities where kin have experienced the brutal realities of occupation. Faced with such visceral memories, many Ukrainians continue to believe that wage-earning any peace agreement negotiated with Russia would severely undercut their dignity as a nation.
The Crimean Template for Conquest
Ukrainians are acutely aware that Russia’s current aggression finds roots in its earlier annexation of Crimea and occupation of eastern Ukraine. Insights from life in Crimea post-annexation reveal systematic policies employed by Moscow to further expansive military aims. Residents who resisted obtaining a Russian passport found themselves denied essential services, including healthcare and property rights. To continue residing in Crimea, locals were mandated to exhibit a stated income and hold sanctioned jobs, which are often contingent upon Russian citizenship. Minor infractions, from identification lapses to parking violations, could carry sweeping consequences, affecting residency and dictating behavior.
In stark contrast to Crimea’s years as a picturesque tourist destination, the region has been transformed into an extensive military outpost. While Russia invested heavily in seeming civilian infrastructure, such initiatives often concealed their true military intent. For example, roads were designed to facilitate troop and equipment transport instead of benefiting local populations. The Kerch Strait bridge, built with significant Russian funds, served primarily to move military assets into Crimea, reinforcing the Kremlin’s strategic hold over the region.
To ensure the local populace’s alignment with Russian objectives, youth indoctrination emerged as a focal point. Education became increasingly regulated to eradicate references to Ukrainian culture, while organizations like the "Young Army" were established to militarize younger generations. After 2022, similar strategies were employed concerning Ukrainian children abducted and sent to Russia, bringing international ire upon Moscow and prompting arrest warrants from the International Criminal Court against Putin and his associates.
For years, even as Russia manipulated public perception overseas, its actions maintained a dual purpose: distracting from aggressive maneuvers in Crimea and Eastern Ukraine while pretending to seek peace. My discussions with Ukraine’s former foreign minister underscore that at no point did Putin genuinely pursue an equitable resolution; the ongoing diplomatic process served primarily as a strategic distraction.
A Call for Increased Awareness in Western Capitals
Following the full-scale invasion in 2022, Russia has rolled out occupation strategies honed in Crimea—albeit with a more severe grip on the populace. For instance, regions like Zaporizhzhia have endured restrictions on healthcare, local economy, and property rights, in addition to establishing Moscow time as the ruling standard. By compelling occupied populations to accept Russian identification, the Kremlin implements a form of psychological pressure, warning them of alleged criminal repercussions should they return to Ukraine. In reality, Ukraine may prosecute individuals serving the occupying authority, not for availing services under duress from occupation forces, but through the Kremlin’s disinformation, apprehensions run high among civilians.
Initial assurances made by the Kremlin, highlighting prosperity in occupied territories, have since given way to dire economic conditions. Residents find themselves fortunate merely to evade arrest or confiscation of their holdings. The prohibition of Ukrainian currency forces many into deeper economic despair, often overly dependent on maintaining possession of their homes to avoid further loss. Despite promises of beneficial reforms and financial assistance, the actual day-to-day realities involve blatant exploitation of occupied territories.
Following Ukraine’s full-scale invasion in 2022, the Kremlin has initiated relocation programs for Russian citizens into occupied cities, replicating past strategies from Crimea. Ukrainian government estimates suggest that between 2014 and the 2022 invasion, around 800,000 Russians moved to Crimea alone, for there they constitute a third of the population. Since 2022, similar endeavors have expanded throughout Ukraine, fundamentally transforming local demographics and erasing any sense of Ukrainian identity along the way.
Consider Sievierodonetsk in the Luhansk region—once an industrial hub with a population of around 100,000—where a substantial percentage of the populace fled post-occupation. In recent reports, the current population is estimated at 30,000 to 40,000; however, only a fraction are original residents, as the Russian military presence swells amidst reconstruction efforts. Public and private infrastructures now serve primarily Russian military personnel and their families, while any surviving local identity is systematically dismantled.
Comparatively, Mariupol—once a bustling port municipality home to 540,000—endured horrific encirclement from February to May 2022, leading to widespread devastation. Official estimates report that approximately 95% of the city has been razed, with thousands of civilians perishing. Yet, recent Russian propaganda has glorified its reconstruction to lure settlers, indicating a rise in population touted to be approximately 240,000. Russian media has promoted a narrative wherein devastated properties are marketed as investment opportunities, showcasing the deep disconnect between reality and the Kremlin’s narrative of progress.
Legal professionals, such as Ibrahim Olabi from The Reckoning Project, have argued that the underlying strategy behind Russian rule is focused on exerting control through fear and societal transformation, displacing citizens or coercing them into complicity. Additionally, these efforts contribute to a broader Kremlin initiative to destabilize and subjugate Ukraine—through economic destabilization, societal fractures, and the omnipresent threat of new incursions.
A Call to Action for Global Leaders
During his campaign and subsequent administration, Trump advocated for a rapid cease-fire between Ukraine and Russia, proposing that Kyiv should acquiesce to frozen frontlines to reclaim lost territories. Ukraine’s military leadership contends that, with appropriate support—especially advanced weaponry capable of striking key Russian military installations—while restoring complete territorial integrity might be unrealistic, pushing back Russian forces remains feasible. Many Western supporters who value Ukraine’s fight for sovereignty agree, yet acknowledge the discrepancy between vision and reality.
Putin remains dismissive of cities like Mariupol or Sievierodonetsk; his disregard for Ukrainian sovereignty stems from believing Russia’s might renders such concerns irrelevant. However, history has proven that appeasing territorial ambition with forced compliance does not quell further aggression. The permanence of occupation poses the real danger of perpetuating violence and suffering for generations.
Recent polling by the Kyiv International Institute of Sociology revealed a slight uptick in Ukrainians willing to consider territorial concessions to end the conflict—rising from 32% to 38%. Despite this, more than half (51%) oppose any such compromises, demonstrating the resilience and determination prevalent among the populace. For many Ukrainians, the territorial stakes pale in comparison to the weaponization of occupation as a profound threat to their national sovereignty.
While some dialogue regarding ceasefire might appear viable under specific circumstances—such as NATO membership guarantees, robust military support, and substantial reconstruction financing—the likelihood of achieving such assurances remains tenuous. Until Western allies acknowledge that Russia’s occupation fundamentally aims to destabilize Ukraine as a whole, the continued commitment of Ukrainians to their wartime efforts is likely to persist, regardless of the escalating costs. If a ceasefire does not confront the enduring menace posed by Moscow, tangible peace and stability will remain forever out of reach.
