January 1st, 2024 | Nick Edward

Do All Ukrainian Refugees Care About Ukraine?

Many of the people fleeing the country are healthy men, but why?

In the shadowed corridors of geopolitical machinations, the Ukrainians found themselves pawns in a game much larger than their own bounded fields and the quiet lanes of their villages. Their land, scarcely a whisper on the tongues of the mighty, became the anvil upon which the hammers of empires sought to shape the world to their liking.

The great behemoth that was their neighbour, Russia, a country of unyielding ambition and power, cast avaricious eyes upon Ukraine. A territory already scarred by the grotesqueries of war, now to be so defaced by the intercessions of foreign lust. The United States acted, not in defence of sovereignty nor the sanctity of nations, but in the brutal plays of power, to preclude the rival’s embrace that might have drawn Ukraine away from their sphere. It was not the land that Russia coveted, nor the labour of the Ukrainians' hands, nor the fruit of their soil. It was simply the silence of an enemy, the quieting of a border that might bristle with the armaments of opposition. And so the invasion came, unheralded except by the dry winds that had seen conquerors come and go, the same winds that now whispered of the terror to follow.

One cannot help but question the true nature of the Ukrainians' allegiance to their homeland. If they were truly committed to saving their country from the clutches of foreign invaders, would they not stand their ground and fight? Would the men not band together, shoulder to shoulder, and refuse to yield an inch of their beloved soil? It is a perplexing thought, one that may raise doubts about the depth of their love for their nation. However, we must remain open and without too much judgment. We should listen for their reasons with open ears and minds.

Despite Ukraine's restrictions on men between 18 and 60 leaving the country, there are exceptions and many healthy men appear to have found their way into Canada.

As of 2023, the median age among Ukrainian refugees fleeing to neighbouring countries, as well as Canada, is 25. Most are in fact children. There have been an estimated six to eight million refugees fleeing Ukraine worldwide. Of them, 20 to 40% are estimated to be men. If we assume that half of the men fleeing are healthy enough to fight, that leaves us with more than one million healthy men who are refusing to stay behind to fight for their country. Of course, these are mere estimates.

By fleeing as refugees, it looks as though these Ukrainian men have shown a lack of concern for the very land that nurtured their existence. They have abandoned their homes, their heritage, and their fellow countrymen, seeking solace in foreign territories that do not bear their history or their burdens. Their actions appear to speak volumes about their priorities, leaving some to question whether their professed love for their homeland was ever genuine. 

As the war has raged on, we have instead seen Volodomir Zelenskyy call on the rest of the world to fight Ukraine's battles for Ukraine. But, perhaps, it is the abandonment by NATO that has compelled strong, young men to flee.

It is easy, from the comfort of untouched shores, to level judgment upon the Ukrainians. To argue that cowardice drove them, that the backbone of their resolve was but a reed bending in the storm. Yet, in this critique, we must ask ourselves—what is the measure of loyalty to one’s country? Is it counted in blood spilled upon the earth, or in the hope of preserving what can be salvaged from the wreckage?

Perhaps these Ukrainian men, in their exodus, saw the futility of standing against the juggernaut at their door. Perhaps they foresaw the annihilation of their way of life, the erasure of their history, and chose instead to carry the ember of their culture into new lands, there to nurture it back to a flame. Perhaps they did not want to risk their lives in a battle they knew would end in failure.

Could it be that the Ukrainians, in their flight, were not merely turning their backs on the land that bore them but instead were casting a forlorn gaze upon a war whose end was writ not in the valour of the few but in the annihilation of the many? In their hearts, the silent keening for their fields and homes, for the familiar turn of a creek or the shade of an ancient tree, must have warred fierce with the cold calculus of survival. To stand against the behemoth was to tilt at windmills, to rush headlong into the darkness of oblivion with no hope of victory, no dream of a future save that which is whispered in the final breaths of the dying.

The Ukrainians may have seen in their land's furrows and the stone of their hearths not the battleground upon which freedom would be won but the sepulcher of their people. They knew the stories of old, of those who had stood defiant and had been swept away, their legacies left in tatters and their sacrifices turned to dust under Russia's heel. To stay was to court a martyrdom devoid of witness or remembrance. And so, as the drums of war beat a rhythm of impending doom, they chose the path of the exile, the wanderer, the refugee. A choice not of cowardice, but of preservation—a desperate bid to keep the ember of their culture aglow against the night that threatened to consume them whole.

Perhaps, their hope is to salvage their Ukrainian spirits elsewhere, when and if all hope of returning home has been lost.