Former defense chief Martin Herem told Vikerhommik that Ukrainians see normal life as key to resilience and won't accept peace on Russia's terms.
You have said that much of Ukraine's will to defend itself rests on the fact that, despite the war, people have tried to maintain at least some semblance of normal life. You recently visited Ukraine -- could you give some examples of activities and ways of life that give the impression people are doing everything possible to keep life going as normally as they can?
The purpose of aggression is to frighten people into giving up their will, their values and their morale. There's the military side, but there's also society as a whole. It seems to me that people who hold on to their values even in wartime aren't necessarily trying to show the enemy anything -- they themselves draw strength from it.
For example, when I visited different units, I saw how they take care of stray animals. Every unit, even an artillery gun crew, has a kitten they've found somewhere and taken in.
Another example is in Kherson, where they mow the grass. In July, a whole team of park workers was mowing lawns even though there was a constant drone threat. There are two reasons for this. First, parks should look nice. But second, dry grass is dangerous -- if the Russians set it on fire, everything around it could burn down.
The maternity hospital there is still operating. It worked throughout the occupation and continues to do so today, just three kilometers from the front line. In six months, 73 babies have been born there, which used to be the monthly average before the war. They keep it running at all costs. The third floor was destroyed by shelling, the roof has been patched up somehow and most of the medical work takes place in the basement.
And then there's garbage collection. In Kramatorsk and Kherson -- Kherson is of course closer to the front line, about 20 kilometers away -- garbage isn't hauled away, but it is sorted by residents. There are street bins for trash, but also separate bins for bottles and cans. People still sort their waste.
And so it goes. Just recently there was news that they had reopened a school and kindergarten in Kherson. Children don't go to school every day in the traditional sense; much of it is done remotely. But there still have to be opportunities for them to meet. For example, kindergartens are closed, but after work parents can take their children to playgrounds that have been repaired and surrounded with shelters. Families really do sit there together while the children play, because as we learned during COVID, people need social contact.
They do all of these things. And when I ask why, they reply, "Why are you asking such a silly question? Why wouldn't we? This is our home, this is our right. This is what we've always done and we will keep doing it."
One sight that was hard to comprehend was when I entered Kherson and saw new houses being built. Not like some big new housing development, but three completely new private homes. They didn't look like replacements for bombed-out houses -- these were just new homes going up, only about seven kilometers from the front.
You also see roof and road repairs, sometimes just three to five kilometers from the front. That may partly be for logistical reasons, but the work goes on whenever possible.
We've also seen in news photos that when there's massive destruction, ordinary civilians are out in the streets sweeping, hauling debris and cleaning up after explosions.
That's been the case since 2022, and it still is. Whenever there's an attack and explosives hit the city, cleanup begins no later than the next day and by the end of that day the streets are clean. Of course, the building hit remains damaged, but the streets are cleared.
You've been there several times. Over nearly four years of full-scale war, has people's attitude, resilience or will to defend themselves changed? At some point, people must get tired, even though Ukrainians understood from the start this wouldn't be a short struggle.
Of course there are what Ukrainians call ždunõ - "waiters," or those who just wait for things to change. They exist everywhere. When you talk to Ukrainians, they all say they want peace. If you leave it at that, it sounds like they just want the war to end, whatever the terms. But I don't think that's the case. If you keep talking, they'll say, "We want peace -- but on our terms." And that's where it gets complicated.
Many people will not accept peace if it means giving up territory. Maybe in Lviv or Kyiv some people would accept that, but I'd estimate that about a quarter of the soldiers are from areas now under Russian control. They will never agree to give them up.
I don't see people breaking. Yes, they're tired and they wish the war would end already -- but you can always add a comma to that thought: "... but on our terms."
What about ordinary Ukrainians' view of Western countries, especially the United States, where there are constant debates about sanctions and aid, while Russia keeps launching new attacks?
Back in January, generals in Ukraine's Defense Ministry told me, half-jokingly: "Well, Herem, what are you doing here? The war will be over soon -- [Donald] Trump will end it," and they burst out laughing.
Even today, they treat us a bit like children. There's sometimes a condescending tone, mocking what we in the West say: "We'll give you aid, we're with you in spirit." They may even draw strength from that -- despite our promises and limited action, they still manage on their own. Their own industry, their defense sector, everything is growing stronger.
They don't make too big a deal of it, though there is disappointment. But it's not greater than before. If anything, their self-confidence has grown, which makes up for frustration with the West. They laugh off broken promises as a way of coping.
Did you also learn how they view fellow Ukrainians laying low or living abroad -- those who might otherwise be on the front or helping inside the country?
It really varies. I've spoken with soldiers and generals. One general said: "What's the point of young men in Lviv volunteering (for civilian tasks -ed.)? Let them leave that work to women and come fight." But a soldier told me: "No, life in Lviv has to continue. Someone has to fix my kid's bike. And when I go on leave, I want to drink coffee -- I don't care if it's served by a 23-year-old man or a 73-year-old woman."
Sometimes there's resentment. But many fighting men and women have family members abroad, for all sorts of reasons. They know that today, men under 25 aren't subject to mobilization. If young people are abroad, let them be. Often they can't find work in Ukraine anyway -- better that they earn money abroad and send it back home.
So yes, opinions differ, but I didn't see any major focus on criticizing Ukrainians who fled or calls for them to return. The focus is on the east, on driving out the Russians.
And what about Ukrainians who left at the start of the war or even before and may have built new lives abroad -- people who might not come back to help rebuild Ukraine?
I've spoken about this in another context: what happens after the war, if it ends in a frozen conflict or a peace agreement. Many fighters' families have left and built completely new lives elsewhere -- even with new partners. How will soldiers view that when they return? Everyone nods when this is brought up: it's a built-in conflict, a problem for the future. This is one of Russia's achievements -- it has created divisions within Ukrainian society that will have to be resolved after the war.
But if you ask soldiers or generals what their focus is today, they'll say: "Driving the Russians out." Questions about relatives abroad and everything else will be dealt with later.
Looking back at last week's drone incident, [Ukrainian President Volodymyr] Zelenskyy said Russia is trying to expand the war. On a citizen level, that sounds frightening. How seriously should we take this?
Russia is expanding the war in our relationships with each other. We already see how some people mock NATO or Poland. I've suggested, along with Gen. [Riho] Terras, that Poland could extend its air defense to cover part of Ukraine's airspace. Some people then call us "crazy" -- and that's exactly the kind of division Russia often manages to create. We start arguing among ourselves, wasting time on pointless disputes, calling each other names.
This is what Russia achieves with such actions: sowing division; maybe that's too strong a word, but certainly uncertainty and instability. Useless arguments within societies and between allies. That is one way it expands the war.
As for kinetic escalation -- not yet. I don't think Russia wants to risk a real confrontation with NATO while it's still tied down in Ukraine.
But it keeps testing the limits.
Yes, pushing borders constantly. And in doing so, it's testing how much conflict it can stir up inside our societies. Then it amplifies that in its own way.