DONETSK, Ukraine - In front of the sober-grey, Soviet-era building where the seized Donetsk National University is housed, 19-year-old Artem Glushuk stands waiting for his class to begin.
Glushuk is an economy student whose ambitions have become more limited because of Russia’s war against Ukraine.
“I started my studies when Donetsk was still a part of Ukraine, but now my university has become part of the Donetsk People’s Republic,” Glushuk said. “My diploma is worthless outside Donetsk, but what can I do? Just leave and continue my studies elsewhere? Start all over? No, I stay here to finish my university studies and we’ll see what will happen in two years when I graduate.”
Since the Russians and their proxies seized control of Donetsk during a bloody conflict that began in April 2014, they have taken over several institutions to cement their grip over the lives of the remaining people here. This includes the education system and universities.
In theory, the university Glushuk is attending shouldn’t even be open. Months ago as the new academic year was about to commence the Donetsk National University escaped the bloodshed and fled to Vinnytsia, some 1,000 miles to the west. Some students fled with the staff, but some also stayed, including Glushuk.
Glushuk works part-time as an administrator in a Donetsk-based realtor office. Things have changed for him drastically though, like everyone else in separatist-held territory.
“I used to work in the same realtor office, but now work has become more complex. There are less customers, and new rules set out by the Donetsk authorities. I only still work there because the pay is good and to gain experience. When I graduate and obtain my degree I’d like to become a realtor myself,” Glushuk explained.
Where that is remains a question. “Wherever my diploma gets recognized,” he said.
The academic year has almost come to an end and students are preparing for their final exams. Parents of students and students themselves have expressed their concerns multiple times during the year. The self-proclaimed Ministry of Education in Donetsk has assured them though that “the name of the university is what matters” and “that the eventual stamps will be carried out by the Donetsk National University and not by Donetsk’s Education Ministry.”
However, education authorities in Kiev deny this. Only the Donetsk National University that moved to Vinnytsia is qualified to hand out exams and recognize university degrees, according to Ukraine’s government.
The authorities in Donetsk want Russia to recognize the degrees obtained at separatist-led education institutions. Sitting in his office in military fatigues, separatist education minister Igor Kostyenuk points out that he seeks “a Eurasian agreement.”
Kostyenuk said: “You have to understand that we are the youngest country on earth. We are establishing new institutions, and it costs time to have things function smoothly. Our aim is to have Russia, Belarus and Kazakhstan to be among the first to recognize the higher education system in Donetsk.”
For the remaining students in the occupied territories, a career far away from the war seems unlikely once they’ve finished their higher education in Donetsk.
There are few jobs in separatist-held territory. But, according to Kostyenuk, conditions will improve.
“What’s important is that our young and vibrant students will eventually form the backbone of our economy,” he said. “I don’t assume though that they’re not allowed to leave Donetsk, but if Kyiv keeps cutting us off more, it is inevitable that alumni will stay here. They don’t want to live somewhere where all their hard work is unrecognized. Also, given all the hatred in Ukraine against us, I bet there are many employers in Kyiv not even wanting to give our students a chance. That’s an example of fascism.”
A few students don’t care where their diplomas will be recognized.
“I will receive a degree in biology from the Donetsk People’s Republic, and I’ll be happy when I receive it,” said 18-year-old first year student, Pavel Blazhkov, as he came out from a zoology class. “My parents run a farm south of Torez. I love animals and once I finish my university I hope to take over our family farm. I have no plans to work anywhere else. Life in the ‘Republic’ is good.”
Others are not as convinced as Blazhkov.
Tatiana, 20, doesn’t want to give out her family name because she fears running afoul of the separatist authorities if she criticizes them.
“It feels that we’re becoming isolated. There used to be a foreign exchange program every year. Now obviously not. Our diplomas are worthless and the authorities do everything to falsely assure us. Who would possibly believe them? We’re the Internet generation. We can surf online and find out in a second that our diplomas are worthless everywhere.”