I feel strongly that the phrase “Kyiv is the Capital of Freedom” represents accurately what this war is about. It also provides a powerful vision for the country that we are to build when the war ends.
Freedom is a fundamental value. Historically, the word emerged as a rallying cry for those who had experienced slavery, serfdom, constraints on movement, assembly, speech, creed… Over the past three centuries many have written of the contrast between “negative” freedom (freedom from) and its “positive” meaning: freedom to. In time, with the spread of respect for human rights, the discourse has shifted to the need to expand positive freedom – a task taken up with fervor by the institutions of the European Union.
Fundamentally, humans are free when they have “agency.”
The Ukrainian version of this English term is “subyektnist” (subjectivity) – a logical contrast to “objectivity”, meaning to be an object of someone else’s will. A person/group that possesses “subyektnist” (or “agency”) has the ability to act, to be heard, to wilfully affect events.
Whether we call it agency or subjectivity we are referring to the same thing: one’s ability to deliberately (positively) enact one’s will: to consider facts, weigh emotions, judge according to one’s values, counsel with others, and then to act with minimal constraint.
Eventually, I’m sure, Kyiv will become the Capital of Freedom. We will rid ourselves of the invader whose aim is to negate our freedom, and we will build a new Ukraine where agency is maximized. That vision will require not only a change in how we build the new Ukraine, but also a change in each of us.
During the Maidan protests, many argued that the revolution was about Ukraine’s “civilizational choice”: to be part of the Russian or European “worlds”. Within the next few weeks, Ukraine’s European choice will be validated (finally) in the form of EU candidate member status. Ukraine will become formally accepted into the “European family” where (apparently) the values that many Ukrainians have fought and died for have been institutionalized. But what are these values?
Simple answer: freedom.
More complicated answer: individual and collective agency, and mutual respect for the agency of others. In other words: the ability and desire to make decisions and act upon them, and recognition of the right (and obligation) of others to do the same.
Eight years ago on the Kyiv Maidan, this value was represented in the word “dignity”. Our demand was to have our personal and collective dignity recognized by our own government, by the international community. Today, we talk about other things: our right to exist as Ukrainians, as human beings… The words have changed, but the end goal is the same. We want to be free.
War changes discourse. Certainly, the way we use everyday words, and what we mean by them has changed. My former student Oryna Stetsenko illustrated the point in a recent FB post with the example of “being safe”: “In general terms, ‘being safe’ for many Ukrainians now means being thousands of kilometers away from home… with a single backpack or with a suitcase, with no job or with a remote one, with no friends or with at least one or two… At least no rockets overhead.”
Words represent our reality. The widely accepted theory of linguistic relativity suggests that the structure of a language affects the worldview or cognition of its speakers, and thus the perceptions of people are relative to their spoken language. Presumably the reverse is also true: changes in worldview (particularly during times of extreme stress) will affect language, discourse, vocabulary.
War inevitably pushes us away from practices that are considered “normal” or “civilized”. The atrocious images and stories of inhumanity from Bucha and Borodyanka, compounded by those from Mariupol, leave no mistake: we have left normality a long time ago.
In normal times we “felt safe”, demanded “freedom” (to, rather than from), and viewed “Europe” in very different ways than now.
In normal times, one of the most important things a person can do is to plan. Lately, I have been asked by multiple friends and acquaintances, what my plans are for the future. For the first time in my life that question leaves me dumbstruck. Friends who have left Ukraine have commented that the most stressful aspect of displacement has been the inability to plan. For those of us in Ukraine, the problem is equally prevalent – perhaps more so because “being safe” means so much more.
Without safety one cannot plan. Without a plan, one cannot effect deliberate agency. Without the ability to plan, one cannot be free to act.
Until planning becomes impossible, one doesn’t realize its importance. Now its centrality to the human condition has become supremely evident. Specifically – to plan, not just to dream.
We dream of victory. We dream of peace. We dream of healing. We dream of making Kyiv the Capital of Freedom and of Ukraine gaining membership in the EU (and NATO). But can we really plan anything?
As humans we are free to dream (always). Agency means being free to act on those dreams: to plan, to deliberate on the pros and cons of variants, to weigh choices against values, and then to adopt a course of action, and then to act without constraint.
Watching the daily press briefings about lost or liberated territory, about weapons shipments, and about the destruction caused by the Russians in Ukraine, it is easy to lose sight of what this war is really about. We are fighting for our freedom: for the ability to make deliberate choices and act upon them.
Amid the destruction, horror, death and constant bombardments we must not lose sight of our purpose. It is what makes us human. If we lose this purpose, the war will cease to be about us; we will lose our agency, our chance to gain real freedom. We may preserve our territory, but we will lose both our individual and collective “subyektnist.”
“Freedom is worth fighting for!” That phrase must remain substantive to our cause, and not merely a slogan.
God help us!
The views expressed in this article are the author’s and not necessarily those of the Kyiv Post.
