The unbearable sadness of Mariupol for me.
Last edited Wed May 4, 2022, 04:14 PM - Edit history (1)
For over the past three months, a good part of my mind and attention every day has been focused on the war in Ukraine and the impact that has conflict has had on the Ukrainian people. The fact that I am second-generation Ukrainian with family still in the country, and with a family history of my grandparents having fled the country during the worst of World War II, only serves to act as a multiplier for the emotions that I've been feeling.
Besides my concern for the safety of my family--who thankfully live in the "safer" Western Ukrainian regions--the fact that about three years ago I had a chance to tour the country and absolutely fell in every single bit of it (the culture, the people, the food) has kept me worried about the wellbeing of both Ukrainians and their cities.
And while my travels in Ukraine took me to many remarkable places and cities--Kyiv, Lviv, the Carpathian mountains--in the end it's been the fate of one particular Ukrainian city that has haunted me the very most: Mariupol.
I did not visit Mariupol when I traveled to Ukraine; in fact, I didn't even come close to visiting anywhere in Ukraine's besieged Eastern regions. And yet, over the past few years I've grown to know Mariupol on a second-hand basis, and it always seemed to fascinate and intrigue me in a way.
I first heard about Mariupol during the onset of the 2014 Russian proxy war against Ukraine using so-called separatist forces. Nearby Donetsk and Luhansk fell to the invaders, but Mariupol was somehow able to miraculously hold them off. And in doing so, the Ukrainian national spirit in Mariupol grew (bolstered in part by those fleeing the occupied regions) and there was a breath of new air in the city. This is even more notable considering that like many places in Eastern Ukraine the majority of residents speak Russian as their primary tongue as opposed to the native Ukrainian. It didn't matter: Mariupol was Ukraine, and that was that.
And though I never actually visited Mariupol in person, I had "visited" its streets via Google Maps and found it to be a charmingly eclectic mix of a town, with different elements and styles comprising the whole. You had the old school Soviet apartment block buildings--the Khrushchyovkas and the Brezhnevkas--but you also had newer, 21st Century modern architecture sprinkled throughout as well as staid churches that dated back to Tsarist days. And given its prime location on the Sea of Azov, Mariupol was a beach town, too; no doubt probably a favored vacation and recreation spot for many in the region.
And to round it out, of course, was Maripol's most indelible and unmistakable landmark: the absolutely massive Azovstal steel plant that sat in the very center of the city and dominated nearly ever wide shot picture of Mariupol. Azovstal was--by all objective measures--ugly as sin: dirty, gritty, polluting, not to mention an old Soviet relic. But even so, there was something oddly appealing about its hulking, imposing, industrial aura that gave it out; a sense of raw honesty that somehow made it welcome in the overall panache that was Mariupol.
And now Mariupol is no more.
Nearly every single structure in the city is bombed to the ground or otherwise inhabitable. Sadly, I almost knew this would be a certainty the moment the first Russian bomb touched Ukrainian soil that Putin would go after Mariupol, and go after it hard. Not only was it a strategic port city, and ever since seizing Crimea in 2014 the Kremlin has sought to cut off Ukraine from the sea, but I think there was also a punitive goal in mind as well. Because Mariupol resisted the initial wave of Russian invasion, because it dared to clothe itself in Ukrainian pride, because it contradicted the Kremlin falsehood that the Ukrainian government was somehow persecuting its Russian-speaking citizens, Mariupol would be forced to pay a price.
And it most certainly has. Over 300,000 of its 400,000 residents forced to flee their hometown. The death toll cannot be even close to being verified at the moment, but undoubtedly is certainly within the tens of thousands. Only a small pocket of resistance remains at the Azovstal plant; the outlook for their survival is not good. Those who remain in portions occupied by the Russians risk either being paraded around for propaganda purposes, or removal and deportation to areas deep within Russia.
Mass graves. A theater full of civilians--including scores of children--bombed, and hundreds left dead. Indescribable and immense pain and suffering, everywhere.
The total destruction of an entire city is nothing new to humanity; it's a practice that dates back as far as long as human civilization has existed. The ancient city of Carthage was infamously burnt to the ground by the Romans in 146 BC. Russia saw its own cities such as Leningrad and Stalingrad virtually destroyed in total during World War II. And our hands as Americans are not bloodless in this practice either, whether it be by a single bomb (Hiroshima and Nagasaki) or a prolonged and furious bombing campaign (Dresden).
Even in my own lifetime, I can remember Grozny. I can remember Aleppo. I have seen the virtual destruction of cities take place before my eyes on the news.
But--perhaps because where age brings wisdom, or perhaps simply because as someone with Ukrainian roots I have additional emotional investment--Mariupol's tragic fate has hit me harder than ever before. It's more than just reading a history book. It's more than even turning on a news report on television.
It's hard.
It's really, really hard.
An entire city, an entire place--where people lived and took pride in. Gone, just like that.
But even so, Mariupol existed. And it may--at some point in the future--exist once again.
Вічна пам'ять, Маріуполь. Вечная память, Мариуполь. Eternal memory, Mariupol.
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It has affected me greatly, as well & I do not have Ukrainian roots.
I am sickened to my core.
Part of my sadness lies in knowing that the world has allowed such complete destruction to occur.
I wish we could have done so much more to prevent this.
I remember being shocked that the world allowed Putin to take Crimea- If we could only have stopped this mad man sooner, instead of treating him like a legitimate world leader.
Thank you so much for the beautiful pictures of Kyiv you have shared with us.
and the monster Putin will unleash more horrors with less attention to what's going on being paid to his evilness. 