Safeguarding Society from Russian Aggression
Research paper
Published 11 June 2020
Updated 1 March 2021
ISBN: 978 1 78413 407 5
A woman passes in front of the Slaviansk sign, which is covered in bullet holes from clashes between the Ukrainian government and rebel groups, 3 April 2019. Photo by Cristopher Rogel Blanquet/Getty Images
Ukraine is a front-line state in the struggle between European rule-based order and Russian kleptocratic autocracy. Despite Russia’s aggression, economic pressure and information war, Ukraine has managed to preserve its statehood and democratic reforms.
Ukraine is a front-line state in the struggle between European rule-based order and Russian kleptocratic autocracy. Since the Euromaidan Revolution in 2013–14, Russia has deployed a range of measures – short of an open declaration of war – to undermine Ukraine’s aspirations to build an independent democratic system of governance and integrate into the Euro-Atlantic community.
Russia is waging a full-spectrum war against Ukraine, exploiting domestic vulnerabilities to sow chaos and challenge the state. In this sense, Ukraine can be considered a political ‘laboratory’ of Russian influence on a large scale. Because of its proximity to Russia, the widespread use of the Russian language and Russian infiltration of its security forces, Ukraine is often used by the Kremlin as a testing ground for various coercive measures.
Russian strategic intentions towards Ukraine have not changed since the start of the conflict in 2014. The Kremlin remains committed to keeping Ukraine weak, isolated and under some form of control. In his December 2019 press conference, Russian President Vladimir Putin reaffirmed threats to Ukraine’s territorial integrity beyond the Donbas region, in the east of the country, by claiming that the area north of the Black Sea (‘Prychormoriya’) is historically Russian land.1
Fundamentally, the Kremlin wants Ukrainians to believe that they do not need their state and that state-building is a futile effort that only benefits corrupt, dysfunctional elites. It wants to encourage citizens to wonder whether things would not be better if Russia governed Ukraine. For this to happen, the Kremlin seeks to promote polarization and a clash between Ukraine’s people and its governing elite.
Since 2014 the Kremlin has adapted its tactics in Ukraine. These have developed from initial fermentation of civic discontent in the southeast against Kyiv, to pushing wider fragmentation, and to the use of direct military means to sustain simmering conflict along the line of contact (LoC) in Donbas. Russia exploits the current military situation in the east to further destabilize Ukraine. However, opinions in the Kremlin differ on how best to deal with Ukraine. Some advocate patience and maintaining pressure via conflict until widespread autonomy for Donbas is granted, while others argue for some form of compromise in exchange for the lifting of Ukraine-related sanctions against Russia.2
From the Kremlin’s perspective, the broad menu of satisfactory choices includes: integration of the self-proclaimed ‘Donetsk people’s republic’ (DNR) and the ‘Luhansk people’s republic’ (LNR) into the Ukrainian constitution as special-status areas; annexation of these quasi-statelets via recognition; or maintaining military pressure until Ukraine compromises and the West loses interest. In short, Putin would like to have a veto over Ukraine’s future.
Russian tactics to subjugate Ukraine include disinformation warfare, cyberattacks, trade embargoes and limitation of transit to Asia, undeclared war in Donbas, interference with navigation in the Sea of Azov, energy supply blackmail, and the annexation of parts of Ukraine’s territory (e.g. Crimean Peninsula). Since April 2014, over 13,000 people have lost their lives due to the conflict in eastern Ukraine, with an additional 30,000 injured. These figures include over 3,300 civilian deaths and over 7,000 injured civilians.3
Russia’s aggression has caused major disruptions in Ukraine including rising flows of internally displaced people (IDPs), difficulty in the reintegration of war veterans, the loss of coal supplies for leading Ukrainian metallurgic companies, and complications for the shipping and fishing industries due to the construction of the Kerch Bridge across the Sea of Azov. The region’s ports are critical for Ukraine’s exports of grain and metallurgical products.
In the occupied territories of the DNR and the LNR the Kremlin is creating pre-conditions to complicate the future reintegration of these territories into Ukraine. Moscow is limiting remaining voices inside the DNR and the LNR calling for these territories to become part of Russia.4 At the same time, in those territories, it is conducting a soft integration of existing structures in Russia’s ‘sphere of influence’, notably in the economic, cultural and education sectors, and through a passportization policy. At the start of 2020, Russian authorities reported that 200,000 Russian passports had been issued in Donbas using the fast-track procedure available for people working for the separatist ‘authorities’.5
Russia has used its information channels, which also reach Kyiv-controlled parts of Donbas, to mould a separatist identity through the manipulation of fear and pre-existing grievances. The Kremlin is conducting a form of social engineering through propaganda in order to generate a pro-Russia, anti-Ukrainian electorate. This is particularly controversial since ideological brainwashing of citizens includes schoolchildren via new curricula in history and ‘citizenship classes’.6 In terms of ideological content, Russia’s narrative focuses on the de-legitimization of the Ukrainian state7 and the promotion of the idea of a special status for the separatist territories that goes beyond current Ukrainian legislation.8 This has resulted in the creation of a local identity shaped by war.9 While this local separatist identity is not well established, it has the potential to take hold as it has been formed by more than six years of conflict and against a background of rising anti-Ukraine sentiment.
Beyond Donbas, Russian destabilization tactics against Ukraine have evolved over time and are notoriously slow burning. They range from broad attempts to undermine the independent Ukrainian Orthodox Church (UOC)10 to specific efforts to negate a sense of pride among local volunteers. These tactics mostly aim at multiplying internal disputes in Ukraine, exploiting passive discontent and putting pressure on state structures. For instance, Russian authorities are most likely behind a series of fake bomb threats that are putting additional strain on Ukraine’s infrastructure and diverting the attention of local authorities.11 Other endeavours focus on undermining the central government by corrupting regional administrations, as exemplified by recent court decisions in Mariupol regarding the amnesty of DNR war fighters.12
On top of continuously discrediting democratic Ukraine, Russian propaganda efforts are now concentrating on depicting President Volodymyr Zelenskyy as a ‘puppet’ of the West and a ‘clown’. Seizing the opportunity presented by the COVID-19 pandemic, Russian state media spins the story of the collapse of Western liberalism and depicts apocalyptic scenarios in Ukraine to increase panic, such as possible hunger protests, lack of cash in the economy, and the disintegration of the healthcare system.13 Russian-designed disinformation operations and active measures radicalized the local population in Poltava region to violently protest against the placement of Ukrainian citizens recently evacuated from China in the local hospital.14 This violent demonstration generated negative media coverage of Ukraine in leading international outlets and damaged the country’s image.
Fortunately, these major disruptions have not resulted in a nationwide disaster or state collapse. Despite Russia’s aggression, economic pressure and information war, Ukraine has managed to preserve its statehood, reclaim parts of territories captured by Russia-backed separatists and roll out a comprehensive programme of ambitious reforms. Ukraine is attempting the equivalent of rebuilding a ship in heavy seas.
Ukraine has persevered as an independent state thanks to its resilience and determination to defend its own future. There are various definitions and examples of resilience. In physical sciences and psychology, resilience is viewed as the capacity to regain shape after various shocks. Among countries under duress, Bashar al-Assad’s regime in Syria is an example of such perseverance. Ukraine’s own crony capitalist economy with its strong vested interests demonstrates similar robust resilience and opposition to change. The second kind of resilience is a system’s ability to absorb shocks and make adjustments without losing its main features. For example, the US financial sector following the 2008 economic crisis, where some adjustments in policy allowed it to return to business as usual.
For the purposes of this analysis, we define resilience as the capacity of an entity – an individual, a community, an organization or a natural system – to prepare for disruption, to recover from shocks, and to adapt and grow from a disruptive experience.15
In the case of Ukraine, the adaptive nature of resilience is of key importance. In addition to withstanding and absorbing shocks, there is an opportunity to generate a resilience dividend. By this, we mean an adaptation that comes out of a crisis, which develops Ukraine’s political institutions to a new higher level of operation. Much of Ukraine’s post-Soviet transformation occurred as a result of innovation from non-state actors, both private sector and civil society. This is where societal resilience comes into play and why it is so important. It has been the bedrock of Ukraine’s transition. At present, Ukraine finds itself needing to accelerate this process of adaptation if it is to emerge as a strong and viable state; it is not enough to maintain the status quo.
Ukraine is in an extremely turbulent environment. Russian military aggression and coercive actions, the domestic turmoil resulting from structural reforms and, more recently, the challenge of addressing the COVID-19 pandemic all require resilience from citizens, organizations, cities and communities. The mobilization of active parts of society often compensates for the weaknesses in Ukraine’s political institutions. In the current crisis, a new type of institution is already emerging from this interaction between political institutions and non-state actors (civil society, business sector, local communities).
Ukraine already has a certain amount of resilience capital based on the following factors, mainly stemming from its societal culture and views about the armed conflict:
These factors should be nurtured as Ukraine remains highly exposed to Russian threats. Building the resilience of communities and institutions is an important strategy for Ukraine to achieve its developmental objectives despite the actions of a violent and disruptive neighbour. Resilience is not an inbuilt feature that is present by default in each system. It can be acquired and strengthened if the proper mindset is applied to social change, organizational development and approaches to crises.
To better understand how Russia has deployed its various levers of influence in Ukraine, previous research by Chatham House proposed a set of categories to identify areas of strategic local vulnerability:17
Figures 1 and 2 map Ukraine’s vulnerabilities and responses to drivers of Russian influence, as assessed by independent experts, in 2018 and 2019.
Russia’s negative influence continues to impact the structural features of Ukrainian society. For this research paper we will only detail the first three vulnerabilities (see previous page) and expand on the impact of armed conflict on the body of Ukrainian politics and society. Ukraine’s domestic weaknesses, such as the role of business tycoons and high-level corruption, clearly make Ukraine more vulnerable but are largely unrelated to external Russian drivers.18
Ukraine’s vulnerabilities outlined in the 2018 Chatham House research paper19 remained prevalent in 2019 and included conflict and security, corruption, and the quality of the political sphere. The impact of the conflict with Russia has decreased compared to 2018, partly because citizens have grown used to the low-intensity aggression in Donbas. This is partially why President Petro Poroshenko’s securitized campaign for re-election was unsuccessful (see Chapter 2 for details on the impact of conflict).
Perceptions of corruption in Ukraine have increased since 2018. The corruption narrative was prominent during the 2019 presidential election and Russia continues to use it against Ukraine. Simultaneously, transparency in public affairs has increased across the board in Ukraine and the volume of investigative reporting has soared. However, not all of this content was highly professional, balanced and factual. For example, the public broadcaster Suspilne TV aired a programme produced by an independent investigative group, Slidstvo.info, about Poroshenko’s offshore accounts including content that violated international standards of investigative reporting.20 In addition, the oligarch-owned information space, especially private-owned TV channels, created a strong impression that corruption is worse now than during Viktor Yanukovych’s presidency and that nothing has changed for the better. All these factors have contributed to an increased perception of corruption.
The oligarch-controlled media have vilified Poroshenko and the ruling elite. However, a 2018 Chatham House paper21 and another one by the Ukrainian Institute of Economic Research and Political Consultations demonstrated that, contrary to popular perception, anti-corruption measures have saved Ukraine around $6 billion since 2014.22 The share of Ukrainians who either personally or within their family have experienced corruption has decreased by almost 20 per cent, compared to 2007.23 At the same time, in 2018, 61 per cent of Ukrainians said that corruption had increased compared to 2013.24
The political sphere remains highly vulnerable to Russia’s negative influence, owing to weak institutions, the high concentration of corrupt money, and the significant leverage of the media. The degree of fusion between large business groups and politics remains high. The modern toolkit of wealthy interest groups that wish to exercise influence includes media ownership; investment in political parties and individual members of parliament; corruption of judges and prosecutors; and funding right-wing radical groups capable of undertaking small-scale violence if necessary. These features are visible at the national and regional levels.
The entry barrier into top-level Ukrainian politics for independent and motivated actors remains very high. This is partially due to politics being a competition of big money rather than big ideas. With no cap on campaign finance in the Law on Presidential Elections, only political actors supported by vested interests could compete nationwide in the 2019 poll. According to the Centre for Democracy and Rule of Law, during the campaign the top three presidential candidates spent between $5 million and $21 million, mostly on TV advertisements.25 By comparison, in Poland, where GDP per capita is almost four times higher than in Ukraine, total campaign spending per candidate in 2015 was $4.8 million.26 Lack of transparency and accountability around political finance in Ukraine allows pro-Russia candidates to inject significant sums of cash into politics, which remains undocumented but influences the political discourse to a large extent.
During the 2019 electoral campaigns the Kremlin clearly endorsed the Opposition Platform – For Life (OPFL). Just eight days before the first round of the presidential election OPFL leaders Yuri Boyko and Victor Medvedchuk met with the then Prime Minister of Russia Dmitry Medvedev in Moscow.27 Another meeting followed in July, 10 days before the parliamentary elections. Medvedev stressed ‘the lack of clear signals from President Zelenskyy and the need for political dialogue between Ukrainian and Russian political parties’.28 The meeting was widely televised by OPFL-owned TV channels.
These efforts were to demonstrate to voters in southeast Ukraine that the OPFL has access to the Russian leadership and therefore has a real chance to stop the war. Connections to the Kremlin also mean the possibility of unobstructed passage of naval cargo through the Kerch Strait.29 This could constitute an offer of significant interest to big financial groups, as they face serious constraints after the construction of the Kerch Bridge.
Despite strong backing from Moscow, the OPFL won 13 per cent of seats on the party list and gained six ‘first past the post’ seats, giving it 43 MPs out of 423 in the parliamentary elections.
With newly regained political status as a member of parliament and as deputy head of the OPFL party – as well as being the owner of several media channels and an extensive business empire – Victor Medvedchuk has actively pushed the idea of autonomy for Donbas, for Kyiv to directly negotiate a peaceful solution with the Russia-backed separatists, and a nationwide referendum on a future peace deal. Support for giving Donbas special status – which could be a Trojan Horse to undermine Ukraine on its path to integration into the Euro-Atlantic community – is weak nationwide and stronger in the southeast. The OPFL’s presidential candidate Yuri Boyko, who also pushed this agenda, was the winner in the first round of presidential elections in Donetsk and Luhansk and came second in Odesa, Zaporizhia, Kherson, Mykolaiv, Dnipro and Kharkiv.30 Despite strong backing from Moscow, the OPFL won 13 per cent of seats on the party list and gained six ‘first past the post’ seats, giving it 43 MPs out of 423 in the parliamentary elections. After both elections, OPFL-loyal TV channels gradually turned against President Zelenskyy, accusing him and his team of lacking the political will necessary to achieve peace in Ukraine.31
Medvedchuk’s influence operation is not limited to Ukraine. He co-produced a film with Oliver Stone, Revealing Ukraine,32 which premiered at the Taormina Film Festival in July 2019. The film featured the dominant Kremlin propaganda narratives about the Euromaidan and the history of Ukraine. It focused on anti-US, anti-Soros narratives and pushed the idea of Ukraine being the battlefield for a proxy war between the US and Russia. Medvedchuk, his wife Oksana Marchenko and Putin himself appeared in the film. A week before Ukraine’s elections separatist media and pro-Russia outlets in Ukraine spun key messages from the film.33
Medvedchuk’s link to Russia is not only ideological; he benefits substantially from access to prime Russian oilfields. NZNP Trade, a company connected to his wife, produces oil at the Novoshakhtinsk refinery. This provides him a considerable source of revenue since one-third of the diesel that Ukraine consumes comes from this particular refinery via connected companies.34
In the religious sphere, the perception of Russia’s leverage has increased as it remains influential through the Russian Orthodox Church (ROC). The situation has escalated after the Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew of Constantinople signed a decree granting autocephaly, the so-called Tomos, to the Orthodox Church of Ukraine (OCU) in January 2019.
This raises the possibility of future conflict fuelled by Russia in communities where parishes of the ROC might decide to join the OCU. The procedure for such a transfer was established by parliament in January 2019 and more than 541 parishes out of around 11,000 have completed a peaceful transfer.35 Indeed, Ukrainian security officials reported that Russian security services were offering $2,000 to those willing to light fires in ROC church buildings in order to ignite religious conflict in Ukraine.36 In Zaporizhia and Kryvy Rig, police have arrested people attempting to set churches on fire.37
Moscow reacted very negatively to Tomos and made clear efforts to obstruct other Orthodox churches from recognizing it. Putin was vocal that he reserves the ‘right of action to protect Orthodox believers’ in Ukraine in case their rights are violated.38 This expanded the pretext of possible intervention in Ukraine, which previously included only ethnic Russians and Russian-speaking populations. As seen from Moscow, Tomos is a serious matter. It signifies a further advancement of the West towards the Russian World and poses a threat not just to security but to Russia’s positioning as the Third Rome and defender of Orthodoxy.39
The independence of Ukraine’s church is used by Russia to polarize communities and discourage parishes from joining the OCU. Separatist and pro-Russia media push narratives to discredit autocephaly, stating that the whole affair is motivated by a money grab and using the former head of the church Patriarch Filaret to spread disinformation that Tomos is illegal.40 This aims to obstruct consolidation of the OCU and maintain the ROC’s control over the parishes in Ukraine. This control is critical for Russia as Ukrainian parishes make up over 40 per cent of the ROC, which allows it to claim to be the largest Orthodox Church in the world.
While all other Ukrainian religious communities observed government-imposed restrictions related to COVID-19, ROC churches ignored distancing guidelines. Archbishop Pavel of Kyiv-Pechersk Lavra called on all ‘believers young and old to hurry into churches and hug one another’. He said, an ‘epidemic is nothing to be afraid of, but a sin which kills a soul is’.41
As shown in Figure 2, perceptions of the Ukrainian state response against Russia’s negative influence have changed since 2018. At that time, the Poroshenko administration mainly focused on rebuilding the armed forces, strengthening the security services and implementing policies related to national identity (mainly on language and decommunization). At the NATO level, a Civil Emergency Planning Committee was launched to ensure the resilience of the state and its critical infrastructure.
Nonetheless, in the view of most non-state actors the authorities are not adequately addressing Russian vectors of negative influence. Civil society actors see the state response as weak, mostly due to the preoccupation of senior officials with the electoral race in 2019. Reforms have largely come to a halt and weak state institutions are unable to function in such an environment. However, there has been a stronger state response in the sectors that were central to Poroshenko’s electoral programme (conflict and security, the Orthodox Church, and language and national identity). The assessment of Zelenskyy’s efforts are not included in Figure 2, as the expert survey was conducted too early in his presidency.
The level of response from civil society organizations (CSO) has increased across all sectors, particularly in key areas of vulnerability. Their effectiveness varies and is often constrained by limited capacity, uncooperative local authorities and disengaged citizens. Local CSOs are assisting with delivering services to IDPs, veterans and families affected by war. A number of think-tanks and anti-corruption groups are pushing for more accountability, transparency and a higher quality legislature. This is especially visible at the regional level among local CSOs and community-based organizations. The case studies in Chapter 3 illustrate how CSOs contribute to a more resilient Ukraine.
