In Kyiv, we are marking the day under the constant threat of Russian attack – and facing a watershed in the course of the war
Ayear ago on 24 August – the 30th anniversary of Ukraine’s independence – a new generation of pilots were leading the Ukrainian air forces flying over Independence Square in Kyiv. The fighter jet column was headed by Anton Lystopad, who was recognised as one of the country’s best pilots. He was 30 years old, born in the year of independence. Almost a year later, in August 2022, Lystopad received the Order for Courage from the president, Volodymyr Zelenskiy. A few days after the ceremony, he was killed in combat.
Lystopad’s story may sound almost too symbolic, but Ukrainians have become used to such tragic symbolism. Six months on from the start of the Russian invasion, with its indiscriminate bombardment of peaceful towns, the atrocities and horrors of Bucha and Mariupol, but also the solidarity, resilience and sacrifices we have experienced, everything feels sharper and deeper. The bitterness of losses and the joy of survival.
Even before the full-scale war, for Ukrainians, Independence Day was the most important holiday of the year, the brightest day, when we thought not about the death of tyranny and the Soviet empire, but the rebirth of the state and of freedom. Amid the war, a military parade in the capital is not an option – soldiers and equipment must be on the frontline. A civilian gathering may put people in danger. There are concerns that Vladimir Putin’s airstrikes will punish those celebrating something he wants to destroy. But doing nothing would feel like a defeat. Not letting Russia destroy our usual way of life is a form of protest. The installation of destroyed Russian military equipment along Kyiv’s main street, Khreshchatyk, has been applauded by many. It offers an ironic commentary: on 24 February, Moscow wanted its armoured vehicles trundling into central Kyiv.After Russia’s defeats in Kyiv, Chernihiv and Sumy, and later its slow advance in the Donbas, the Kremlin changed its strategy. Instead of battles, Moscow makes random missile strikes on peaceful towns such as Kremenchuk in June, where 21 people were killed in a shopping mall, and Vinnytsia in July, where 27 lost their lives.Many of us have got used to air-raid sirens; some have even stopped hiding in basements. But this possibility of attack at any place or any moment is cruel. It remains invisible to foreign visitors, who are often surprised by how normal life in Kyiv or Chernihiv has become.
Yet we still hope Independence Day will be a perfect sunny day. The start of a new season, when many return after a summer break. Many Ukrainian women and children will return home from their refuges abroad. For some, the financial means to be out of the country are exhausted, while others just want to go back to their homes. Unless, of course, they are places under occupation such as Mariupol or Severodonetsk.
Half a year has turned out to be enough to understand the war: to see its ugliness, but also its banality. It is not a force of nature, and it’s not inevitable. Victory depends not just on heroism or might, but on strategy and the capacity to use resources wisely.

Nataliya Gumenyuk is a Ukrainian journalist specialising in foreign affairs and conflict reporting, and author of Lost Island: Tales from the Occupied Crimea