Ukrainian veterans prepare for post -war leadership

Nothing about the dozens of men and women gathered on a summer Saturday in the inconspicuous classroom in the center of Kyiv, gave to whom they were. Pale, lean women in Punkish black mixed comfortably with fleshy men in rough workwear. Ages varied from early 20 to late middle age. They greeted each other warmly and shared a few jokes as they pressed in plastic chair agencies and waited for their instructor.

What they had in common: everyone had chosen Ukrainian veterans to participate in a program that they hope will prepare for future leadership, either in the government, non -profit organizations or community institutions -any initiative, such as the fellow founders of the program put it in an interview, to rebuild and reinforce “.

Almost no one in Ukraine expects peace soon – they do not believe that Vladimir Putin will make peace until he has reached his goal to subdue his southern neighbor. But in a nation that fights to get rid of Russian influence, again models of itself as a European democracy, the future of the country is in everyone’s thoughts – that’s what they are fighting and dying – and it is never too early to think about the reconstruction.

One estimate of a prominent parliamentarian suggests that there could be 3 million Veterans by the time that the war ends, maybe 10% of the population, and they are expected to play an important role in reforming the country. But there are also many question marks, including a gaping social gap between those who have and have not taken up weapons against Russia.

The Defenders Leadership Center housing Kyiv-Mohyla UniversityA small, elite school in the heart of the capital offers a window on this generation that will inherit Ukraine in the years after the war.

An intensive program encourages the generation to reform the country after the war

Most participants in the program hold full -time jobs, a quarter of them still in the army. But they find time to attend class two evenings a week and all day on Saturday. The center does not offer traditional social or mental health care. It is an academic program that is mainly taught by volunteers from the Faculty of Kyiv-Mohyla class in Ukrainian history and literature, as well as public administration and strategic communication.

The goal, according to the staff of the center: to understand the Ukrainian identity and political values, to strengthen the feeling of personal responsibility that soldiers learn in the army. The Spirit is patriotic but intellectually rigorous. “We speak frankly about the weaknesses of the Ukrainian system,” explains co -founder Yana Chapailo me, “with the emphasis on what a future leader can do to change them.”

Chapailo and colleague Kyiv-Mohyla Alum Mariia Savrun, both in the mid-1930s with honey blond hair, launched the program a little more than a year ago, knowing that they were swimming against the tide. “All Ukrainians are grateful to the defenders,” explains former IT marketeer Savrun. “We would not be here without them. But there are many misconceptions.” Some citizens think that all veterans suffer from post -traumatic stress disorder. Bosses hesitate to discipline them, do not avoid so many HR managers. “We want to show people that it is not necessary to be afraid of the subject,” says former non -profit manager Chapailo.

The fellow founders look at private donors to support the program, and in the first year they served a little more than 100 veterans, who are available for free. The two women say that they come up with their approach while they are going further, with the help of the Kyiv-Mohyla faculty and military advisers of active service. But the couple has a strong views on a few things, starting with some veterans want and need.

“We don’t hug them alone,” Savrun explains. “We make it clear that there are rules that apply to them – and they respect the discipline. We carefully select the participants, and everyone here is motivated by the same – a sense of responsibility for the future of Ukraine.”

Two former hunters know first -hand what should change

Tymur Abdulin, 28, comes 10 minutes late in the classroom, a long, thin man with a dark ponytail and an abundance of tattoos. It only takes a few minutes before he entered the conversation. Smiling and charismatic, a kind of natural leader, he asks a question when there is a chance and every question answers that the instructor has asked. Only later do I learn what a difficult time he had in the army in the early days of the war.

Even with a master’s degree and work experience as an IT manager, he struggled to find a unit that would accept him as a hunter. When he finally secured a place, he was made a platoon commander. But he found it difficult to take the lead over two dozen men, much of them much older, with different backgrounds. “I was only 25 and the only one in the peloton who could read an Excel spreadsheet,” he remembers.

He was transmitted by a series of units, but none of them saw enough action for his taste, and he became more and more frustrated by what he thought there were assignments. He felt that the commander of the last unit where he served was deliberately bothering him, and when his older mother fell ill, he took the opportunity to collect from the service. But now, two years later, he is chased by regret. “I didn’t do the best in the army,” he tells me, and he thinks he is about again every day.

His friend, Liudmyla Pautets, 35, is quiet in the classroom, but already very much reached in her field. A pale woman with dark hair and thick eyebrows, she knew as a child she wanted to practice medication. When she could not afford to train as a doctor, she followed courses in nursing and health management. When in 2014 a separatist rebellion supported by Russian fighters in 2014 in eastern Ukraine, she tried to register as a paramedic. The army would not take her, but she served as a volunteer, offered frontliniezorg and evacuated wounded soldiers from some of the fiercest fights of the conflict.

Amazing memories of moments when she did not feel that she knew enough to offer the necessary care, drove her to continue her medical education after the war. Then she found work training others and ultimately the development of courses in combat care. Nowadays she is the director of tactical medical instruction in the influential non -profit organization, come back alive and is already working on the national policy for frontliniezorg.

Different as they are, the two veterans have a lot in common. Asked what they get from the KYIV-MOHYLA program, both emphasize the feeling of community. “Nobody who has not served in the army understands us,” Abdulin complains. “A friend of mine who is a veteran – a doctor – hit a job in a hospital, and the only thing the recruitment manager wanted to know was:” How many Russians did you kill? “

Abdulin is not sure if he sees the point of all topics being treated in the KYIV-MOHYLA program. But what made it worthwhile for him was the ‘community of veterans’. “The people here are very different,” he says, “different ages and all layers of life. But we have all experienced the same thing and we understand each other.”

Both Abdulin and Pautets also share strong views about what is wrong with the Ukrainian army. Both had difficulty finding their place in the armed forces – units and positions that could fully use their talents.

Both struggled with what they saw as blinked, “Soviet-style” commanders, more focused on the rules and what their bosses would think than on the task that was obvious or the lives of the fighters they ordered. One of Pautets’s biggest complaints is about the blindness of the army for gender issues – she says she was denied several jobs for which she was more than qualified.

The most damn, both complaining, the army is not open enough for new ideas. “It is impossible to change the system from the system,” says Pautets. “That’s why I never really became a member of the armed forces. I have done all my work as a volunteer.”

Motivated men and women who are determined to promote reform

Their strongest bond: both veterans share a consuming drive to reform the Ukrainian army – the command structure and the approach to medical care.

Pautets is well on the way to achieve her goal. She has a vision of what is needed and a clear plan to get there. In the era of Drone warfare, she says, you cannot leave combat care to specialized staff, whether they are doctors or paramedics. Every soldier must know the basis, and every third hunter must be more qualified one trained ” Combat Life Saver. ” At Come Back Alive, she works to realize this dream with a train-trainer network and allies in the armed forces.

Abdulin’s plans are still taking shape. He first wants to return to the army and prove himself, ideally in a specialized elite unit. But unlike Pautets, he is convinced that he can promote change from within. “If we want to change this country,” he tells me, “we have to go through the government,” and he is looking for like -minded lawyers in his current job at Brave1, a government initiative to support entrepreneurs in the defense industry.

No one at the KYIV-MOHYLA DEFDENDERS Center-Noch the co-founders nor the veterans I met-has any idea when or how the war will end. But they can’t wait to start forming what will come next. “There is enough work to do now,” says Savrun. “These people want to become changing agents – that’s why they are here. It is our job to encourage them and give them the tools.”