On the menu today: I’m still in Ukraine, so you’ll have to turn to my colleagues Rich Lowry, Noah Rothman, Jeff Blehar, Phil Klein, Dominic Pino, Ryan Mills, John McCormack, and Mark Wright for reporting, assessments, and analysis of last night’s GOP debate. Instead, today’s newsletter features an observation about the sheer size of Kyiv and the challenges it would present to any invader; another air-raid alert and a tour of the nearest air-raid shelter; a look at Kyiv on a perfect summer’s night, when the war feels very far away; and a talk with Vitaly Portnikov, one of the most respected journalists and political analysts in Ukraine. Plus, a few details for those who think all my reporting is some sort of Zelensky-directed dog-and-pony show.
A Report from the Capital
Kyiv, Ukraine — The first thing you must understand is that Kyiv is massive. Even with a certain number of Kyiv residents evacuating when war broke out, as of June 2022, Kyiv was still the seventh-largest city in Europe, with 2.9 million people living within the city limits — more people than Rome, Paris, or Vienna.
Kyiv is also spread out over a wide area — about 325 square miles, which is on par with San Diego, 25 more square miles than New York City, about 100 more square miles than Chicago, and 170 more square miles than Denver.
Yesterday’s newsletter mentioned the Russian attempt to capture Kyiv with a quick strike at the beginning of the war. I’m no military expert, but riding through the city, I figured that even if the Russians had found a way to roll into Kyiv, they would have needed a massive number of troops to win and keep control of the city. Urban warfare is bloody and hellacious, even in the best of circumstances, with resisting residents having many opportunities for ambushes, traps, elevated locations for snipers, and so on. The locals usually know the territory better than the invaders. This is not a bold proclamation that Kyiv will never fall, just an observation that while Russia has a lot of troops — 1,330,000 active-duty, reserve, and paramilitary troops, according to the New York Times — even if Russia did take Kyiv, occupying the city would probably be a long, slow bleed even more difficult than the U.S. experience in Iraq.
I arrived in Kyiv after a seven-hour minibus ride from Kovel. I’d like to tell you that I saw some amazing sights along the way, but it turns out that cornfields in Ukraine look a whole lot like cornfields in the United States. We did see some sunflower fields and some smaller cities, and we did pass through quite a few military checkpoints, though they weren’t stopping any vehicles.
Once in Kyiv, we drove by the Samsung building, which still had a lot of windows blown out as a result of a Russian missile attack back in October. (The missile didn’t hit the building, but it landed nearby and its impact shattered many of the windows.)
Upon checking into our hotel in Kyiv, the clerk mentioned that the bomb shelter is downstairs, in the parking garage. We were required to sign a paper stating we had been warned, and that if we chose not to go into the shelter during an air-raid alert, we accepted the risks. There are signs on the floor, pointing people to the shelter.
The moment I brought my bags to my room, the air-raid announcement began. More out of curiosity than concern, I decided to check out the shelter. (And hey, if flying shrapnel was about to land anywhere in this area, I would be in the right place.)
The shelter itself, in one corner of the parking garage, is actually a nice spot if you have to get stuck somewhere underground for an undetermined amount of time. It has a water cooler and a coffee machine, some beanbag chairs for the kids, couches and a table with several games including Monopoly. If you wanted to host a small gathering of friends over in a corner of a parking garage, this is how you would do it.
There were probably about a dozen hotel guests down there — none of them panicked, and most of them were a little bored or annoyed. About a half-hour later, they announced the alert was over. I didn’t hear any explosions.
At night, in the Kyiv neighborhood of Podil, you could easily forget that you’re in a country currently being invaded by a nuclear-armed superpower. The restaurants and cafes were full, kids ran around and played with toys, and everyone seemed to be enjoying a perfect summer night. One restaurant had an awning that read, “Enjoy every moment. Life is beautiful.” They’re clichés, but they seemed to mean a bit more in this environment.
Without the war, Kyiv could easily be the next hot European travel destination.
In the evening, we met with Vitaly Portnikov, one of the most respected journalists in the region — and an expert on the political developments of Russia and Ukraine — and he’s written hundreds of analytical pieces for Ukrainian, Belarusian, Polish, Russian, Israeli, and Baltic media. Portnikov began by telling us he didn’t speak English very well, and then he promptly discussed complicated political concepts in English in an erudite manner that quite a few Americans would struggle to equal.
Word had just broken that Russian state media was reporting that Yevgeny Prigozhin, leader of the mercenary Wagner Group, had been killed in a plane crash. When Prigozhin was leading his short-lived rebellion and coup, many Ukrainians perceived it as good news; the more problems for Putin, the more likely it was that Russia would have to divert its attention from the invasion. Once Prigozhin changed his mind, any appreciation for him evaporated.
Asked whether Prigozhin’s death should be seen as good news or bad news, Portnikov called it “very interesting news,” and said the development demonstrated how much modern Russia was a “mafia state.”
My summary is unlikely to do justice to Portnikov’s nuanced analysis, and you’re best reading his works for yourself. His Twitter is here, some of his past work in English can be found here, one of his essays about covering and analyzing the war is here, and apparently somebody bugged his apartment last year. (I suppose having your apartment bugged is the ultimate proof that you’re someone worth listening to.)
Portnikov emphasized that the war between Russia and Ukraine will not truly be over until there is a political settlement, and that the objective of war is to create conditions for a political settlement. He said that Ukrainians and the Russian state had always had differing ideas of what an independent Ukraine would be, with Ukrainians believing it meant genuine independence, and the freedom to grow closer to the West and the option of joining NATO and the European Union. Russia always believed that Ukraine would and could live with independence-in-name-only, where Ukraine would have its own elected leaders, but those leaders would always understand their subservient role to Russia. The past 20 or 30 years of Ukrainian history — the Maidan Revolution in particular, but also other chapters — have been about this push-and-pull between these two different views of whether Ukraine would have independence or “independence.”
I liked how Portnokov described Putin’s vision as a new Soviet Union — “the old borders with a new Russian name.”
ADDENDUM: I saw some comments speculating that I have been controlled, manipulated, censored, or otherwise restricted by the Ukrainian government since I arrived. Nothing could be further from the truth. I’m traveling with a friend and National Review subscriber who has been to Ukraine quite a few times since the start of the war, helping humanitarian efforts. If you’ve gone on a National Review cruise, you may well have met him. There is no one from the Ukrainian government with us, and I have no idea if anyone with the Ukrainian government knows we are here or cares. (You may have noticed that the government of Ukraine has bigger problems on its plate these days than some American journalist running around asking people what life is like since the war started, and what Americans ought to know about their lives.) As for the claim I’m conveniently running into interview subjects who speak English, we hired a translator for the interviews with Kovel mayor Ihor Chaika and Wolf, a commander in one of Ukraine’s civilian-defense units.
I also saw the accusation, “Geraghty already had his mind made up when he went to Ukraine.” Indeed, I am very anti-unprovoked massive brutal invasions to annex territory and the wholesale slaughter of civilians, and I am very pro-defending your country when it gets invaded by the hostile autocracy next door run by a maniac with delusions of being a modern czar. I don’t think there’s “another side of the story” when it comes to soldiers raping civilians of all ages, from four to 82 years old. If you’re looking for coverage with the tone of, “Maybe that Putin fellow has a point, or isn’t such a bad guy, or maybe the invasion is justifiable,” you’re going to be deeply disappointed.
I’m surprised by people who demand neutrality between the oppressor and the oppressed. Wait, did I say “surprised”? I meant appalled.
One reader asked for more photos, so I’m sending more, even though photojournalism is not really my specialty. Thanks to my editors and our tech people, who can convert my blurry smartphone shots into a format that works for this newsletter.