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Specters of the Past: How Russia and Ukraine are Weaponizing History

On Orthodox Christmas in late January, Russian President Vladimir Putin sought a symbolic blessing for his invasion of Ukraine from Patriarch Kirill of Moscow. The Patriarch presented Putin with religious iconography honoring Volodymyr the Great, hailed as the “founder of our [Russian] state.” Yet, Volodymyr is revered in both Russian and Ukrainian historical narratives, and this gesture underscored how the war has distorted shared cultural memory into a battleground of national identity.

Since the onset of the war, historical figures and events significant to both Ukraine and Russia have been subject to increasingly divergent interpretations. Historical icons are either rehabilitated or vilified, depending on each side’s propaganda needs. By waging a war not only on land but also in the realm of history, the two nations are deepening their divisions. This “memory war” could entrench these disparities for generations, complicating future reconciliation.

Clashing Historical Legacies

Both Ukraine and Russia are reshaping their historical narratives to serve wartime objectives. Stepan Bandera, leader of the Ukrainian nationalist movement during World War II, illustrates this manipulation of memory. His collaboration with the Nazis has long sparked debate. But in the wake of the Russian invasion, Ukraine’s view of Bandera has shifted. Kremlin propaganda paints the current Ukrainian government as heir to Bandera’s crimes, yet this portrayal has backfired, inadvertently enhancing Bandera’s symbolic status within Ukraine.

Ukraine’s official stance on Bandera is far from cohesive. President Volodymyr Zelensky has commemorated the victims of Bandera’s nationalist movement, but Ukraine’s parliament marked his 114th birthday with public celebrations. This ambivalence reflects the complex ways in which wartime narratives shape and distort national memory.

In Russia, a similar phenomenon surrounds the legacy of Joseph Stalin. Historically controversial for his role in mass murder and famine, Stalin is being reimagined as a hero of wartime leadership. Widespread calls for statues celebrating Stalin have grown, and school textbooks increasingly portray him as a wise, resolute figure, minimizing or erasing his many crimes. For many Ukrainians, Stalin remains a specter of historical trauma, but in Russia, he is lionized as a symbol of national resilience.

Historical Reappraisal Across Borders

Even figures with fewer historical controversies, such as 13th-century prince and saint Alexander Nevsky, have been drawn into the cultural conflict. Ukraine’s autocephalous Orthodox Church recently removed Nevsky from its liturgical calendar, further breaking ties with Russian ecclesiastical tradition.

Other leaders, like Catherine the Great, face similar reassessment. In Odessa, a statue of the empress was dismantled due to its association with Russian imperialism despite its popularity before the invasion. Meanwhile, Russia has intensified its vilification of Ukrainian historical figures, including Cossack leader Ivan Mazepa, whom Russian media portrays as a traitor for his alliance with Sweden during the Great Northern War. These rewritings of history reflect how modern conflicts dredge up unresolved historical grievances.

War and Competing Narratives of Identity

Perhaps the most potent site of historical manipulation is the legacy of the Second World War. The Soviet Union suffered enormous casualties in the war, with both Russia and Ukraine bearing a heavy share of the losses. The conflict has since become a cornerstone of national identity in both countries, though with increasingly divergent narratives.

In Russia, the “Great Patriotic War” serves as a propaganda tool to frame the invasion of Ukraine as a continuation of the country’s historical struggle against Nazism. The Kremlin’s claim that it is “de-Nazifying” Ukraine is central to this narrative and is reinforced through state television and museum exhibits.

Ukraine has countered by redefining its commemorations of the war. In a significant departure from Soviet tradition, the country now observes the war’s end on May 8, aligning with European practice, instead of the Soviet-era May 9 celebrations. Museums have adjusted their narratives, comparing World War II-era aid programs with contemporary support for Ukraine and drawing parallels between Nazi atrocities and Russian war crimes.

One of the most visible shifts is seen in the Mother Ukraine statue in Kyiv. Originally named the Mother Motherland, the statue symbolized Soviet victory and prominently featured the hammer and sickle. In 2023, Ukraine replaced the Soviet emblem with the national trident, signaling a symbolic break from the Soviet legacy and an assertion of its independent historical narrative.

The Battle Over Volodymyr the Great

The war over historical memory also centers on Volodymyr the Great, the medieval prince whose Christianization of the region holds deep significance for both Ukraine and Russia. Patriarch Kirill has recast Volodymyr as a warrior-king defending Russian lands, while Putin has invoked his legacy to promote the idea of an unbroken historical unity between the two nations.

Ukraine, however, has sought to reclaim Volodymyr’s story as part of its distinct national identity. Scholars argue that Russia’s appropriation of the saint’s legacy is part of a broader effort to delegitimize Ukrainian sovereignty. The Ukrainian Ministry of Foreign Affairs has even used Volodymyr’s Christian conversion to bolster arguments for closer integration with the European Union.

The politicization of saints and historical figures is not without precedent. The Russian Orthodox Church has long sanctified military heroes to serve state narratives. Yet Volodymyr’s contested legacy stands out for its profound importance to both countries’ histories and identities.

The Danger of Politicized History

The ongoing war has turned history into a weapon, distorting national memories to fit political aims. Saints are politicized, nationalists are rebranded, and wartime propaganda supplants objective historiography. These narrative manipulations risk hardening divisions and complicating any prospects for postwar reconciliation.

If these distortions persist, they may ossify into historical myths passed down through generations. Historians will be responsible for separating fact from fiction, and they must confront the challenge of untangling narratives born of wartime propaganda. Only through rigorous scholarship can future generations hope to move beyond the specters of this conflict and imagine a shared more truthful past.