n July 2021, Russian president Vladimir Putin issued a 5,000-word essay entitled “On the Historical Unity of Russians and Ukrainians”. The lengthy, ahistorical document outlined his belief that Russians and Ukrainians are “one people”, questioning the legitimacy of Ukrainian sovereignty and borders. Putin ultimately suggested that Ukraine’s statehood, in effect, depends on the consent of Moscow. Whilst the document contained nothing that hadn’t been said before by Putin or his political technologists in the Kremlin, it did raise eyebrows and prompted questions as to why Putin was publishing the essay and what did he hope to achieve. It also clearly established that the ongoing war in Ukraine’s east, the Donbass, was not the center of gravity: Russia’s war was ultimately about Ukraine itself, something that was tragically borne out by its expanded invasion eight months later.
Putin’s understanding of Ukraine was and remains wholly shaped by outdated models of thinking and a specific interpretation of the intersection of Russian and Ukrainian history. In the case of the former, it is his belief that greater powers—such as Russia once was and is to be again—have spheres of influence, areas over which they have dominion and political control. In the case of the latter, it is a mentality that there is a greater Russia encompassing both Belarus and Ukraine, and that it is only through foreign plots, interference, and false thinking that the national boundaries suggest anything else.
Most glaringly, it ignores the possibility that there is any unique Ukrainian identity—whether in the historical sense or in a more modern, post-Soviet way. This post-Soviet identity’s emergence, and how it both shaped and was shaped by Ukraine’s politics, is the backbone of Olga Onuch and Henry E. Hale’s exceptional new book “The Zelensky Effect”. There is no small irony that Putin, in embarking on a war based on his misunderstanding of Ukrainian history and identity, he may have catalyzed a truly united Ukraine.
“The Zelensky Effect” is a far more complex book—in a good way—than readers may first expect. It is partly a biography of Volodymyr Zelensky, but it is also a contemporary history of Ukraine. It’s partly an exploration of Ukraine’s post-Soviet politics, but also partly a detailed study of generational change. Much like Ukraine’s identity, Onuch and Hale add multiple layers to create a vibrant picture of Ukraine and its people.
It’s also a multimedia study of sorts of this identity’s emergence and reflection. Few books on Ukraine incorporate Spotify playlist suggestions, bits of poetry, extracts from Zelensky’s “Servant of the People” skits, and his speeches alongside weighty polling and econometric data analysis. At first glance, these bits shouldn’t sit well together, but in the hands of Onuch and Hale, they fit remarkably well.
The authors astutely observe, “How can we know what Russians are misunderstanding about Ukraine if we do not ourselves have a correct understanding of it?” While it is clear that Russia and Putin made successive erroneous assumptions about Ukraine and its politics, it is equally true that the West did not understand Ukraine or its politics. Volodomyr Zelensky was, for many in Washington, an actor and a bit player in the impeachment of President Donald Trump, subject to the same buffeting winds of patronal demands. Ukraine’s politics were thoroughly corrupt and its military was weak (though improving). With this perspective, surely Ukraine and its young president would fall in the face of Russia’s onslaught.
How wrong both Russia and the West were.
“The Zelensky Effect” is about the president, of course, but it is more about the country that shaped him rather than how he shaped the country. He is a member of the “Independence Generation”, a cohort now entering into their late 30s and early 40s, that were born prior to the collapse of the Soviet Union, but that have grown up in a post-Soviet world. This transitory period is critical to understanding Ukraine’s history and its politics. Zelensky represented, in many ways, wholly new software that confounded and challenged Ukraine’s existing patronal hardware. He was still part of the system, but he challenged it in such a way that he had far more effect than his predecessors who were in many ways custom written software for an inherited Soviet operating system.
For as much attention has been given to Ukraine’s deep and rich history, it is the contemporary history that has been even more consequential according to the authors. This period encompassed the 2004 Orange Revolution, the 2014 Euro-Maidan protests, the annexation of Crimea and war in Donbas in the same year, and the expanded invasion of February 2022. These formative events shaped the civic national identity of this generation, which both demonstrated and was buffeted by two other key factors in the wake of the war: the “rally around the flag effect” and the generational transition that brought Zelensky and his age cohort to the country’s leadership.
Onuch and Hale chart the evolution of Ukraine’s politics and the ups and downs, hopes and disappointments, of successive political upheavals. The petty politics of division—geographic, ethno-linguistic (true Ukrainian versus Russian-speaking)—and the continued dominance of patronal and oligarchic interests were difficult to overcome, and even affected Zelensky’s political life following his election. Yet Zelensky, by virtue of his heritage, his personal experiences in both Russia and Ukraine, and his conscious decision to eschew the politics of division and focus on a true Ukrainian identity, helped unite the country even prior to Russia’s invasion—which served only to solidify this nascent modern construct.
It is interesting to note how wrongly Moscow read the mood in Ukraine and its certainly turbulent politics. The democratic infighting, corruption, and resulting public dissatisfaction was seen as weakness and vulnerability. But as Onuch and Hale write, “What Russia overlooked is that people can be extremely dissatisfied with their government and even disagree vociferously on how to correct their country’s problems without ever wavering in their commitment to the country itself.” Far from being the house of cards the Kremlin expected to topple with ease, Ukraine became a violent battleground from which far fewer Russians would return than entered.
While much has been made about Zelensky’s comedic background, it is too simplistic a perspective of both the man and the figure. To be sure he is an actor and a performer. He also knows how to wage an information campaign (and indeed information war) far better and more instinctually than many so-called information professionals. Zelensky’s messaging was seemingly tailor-made for the war that was to come. A part of the “Independence Generation”, he sought to craft and incubate a whole-of-Ukraine identity, avoiding the politics of division. He used his show “Servant of the People” to reflect the challenges that everyday Ukrainians faced (and lampoon their politics and politicians), but also offer the possibilities of hope that things could be different. Onuch and Hale also note how through this Zelensky enjoyed effectively three years of free campaigning through his show. It was as if Martin Sheen used “The West Wing” as the foundation for a future political run (even if Zelensky hadn’t decided to run at the time).
His communication to the Western world is inspired. From his wearing of the olive drab military shirt to the portrayal of the war in Ukraine as a something much broader, Zelensky knows how to tailor a message and does it supremely well. It certainly helps that Ukraine is the victim in this war and Russia’s aggression is so barefaced (despite its attempts to spin a separate narrative). Yet it is interesting to wonder, counterfactually, how one of his predecessors would have fared had they found themselves in the same situation. Would Leonid Kuchma, Viktor Yushchenko, or Yulia Tymoshenko have managed to unite the country as successfully as he did?
Where both Ukraine and Zelensky go from here remains to be seen. Much is contingent on how the war ends. Zelensky has said that any end to the war cannot and will not include territorial concessions to Russia. This firm line in the sand and maximalist position is both understandable and morally right, but it presents a risk if Zelensky needs to retrench his stance for negotiating purposes. Perhaps even more notably, what happens after the shooting stops will be even more telling. Wartime leadership is fundamentally different than post-war reconstruction and rehabilitation—just ask Winston Churchill (a comparison Onuch and Hale raise).
Whilst Putin may have solidified a true post-Soviet Ukrainian identity, how long and how strong that will remain in the aftermath of war is unclear. The pre-war political divisions, regional distinctions (to say nothing of the underlying reasons for many in the east of Ukraine to lean away from Kyiv and towards Moscow, superbly explored by Anna Arutunyan in “Hybrid Warriors”), and patronal politics will almost certainly reemerge. The reconstruction of the country will be long, complex, and expensive. Russia’s actions have irrevocably turned Ukraine’s orientation to Europe—it is in early discussions on European Union membership, and is, consciously or otherwise, development a NATO-standard military force. Yet it remains clear, as Onuch and Hale write that “unlike in Russia, where the ruling elite is still dominated by older generations of politicians with formative years in the Soviet era, in Ukraine the Independence Generation is not going back on the shelf.”
“The Zelensky Effect” is a truly enlightening book about Ukrainian national identity and resilience. The West is rightly in awe of the country’s ability to stand-up to naked aggression and unrestrained violence, but reading Onuch and Hale’s book provides a deeper understanding of from where that reserve of strength originates, and the man that has come to embody Ukraine. Of course, there is a deep Ukrainian history, but it is the post-Soviet period, the years after independence, that deserve much greater recognition and appreciation.
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The “Servant of the People” Ukraine Needs
Photo by Gleb Albovsky on Unsplash
March 18, 2023
"The Zelensky Effect," recently published by Oxford University Press, is about more than the suddenly famous Volodymyr Zelensky. It is also an exploration of Ukraine's post-Soviet identity, debunking Putin's claims that Ukrainian identity is fundamentally Russian, writes Joshua Huminski.
I
n July 2021, Russian president Vladimir Putin issued a 5,000-word essay entitled “On the Historical Unity of Russians and Ukrainians”. The lengthy, ahistorical document outlined his belief that Russians and Ukrainians are “one people”, questioning the legitimacy of Ukrainian sovereignty and borders. Putin ultimately suggested that Ukraine’s statehood, in effect, depends on the consent of Moscow. Whilst the document contained nothing that hadn’t been said before by Putin or his political technologists in the Kremlin, it did raise eyebrows and prompted questions as to why Putin was publishing the essay and what did he hope to achieve. It also clearly established that the ongoing war in Ukraine’s east, the Donbass, was not the center of gravity: Russia’s war was ultimately about Ukraine itself, something that was tragically borne out by its expanded invasion eight months later.
Putin’s understanding of Ukraine was and remains wholly shaped by outdated models of thinking and a specific interpretation of the intersection of Russian and Ukrainian history. In the case of the former, it is his belief that greater powers—such as Russia once was and is to be again—have spheres of influence, areas over which they have dominion and political control. In the case of the latter, it is a mentality that there is a greater Russia encompassing both Belarus and Ukraine, and that it is only through foreign plots, interference, and false thinking that the national boundaries suggest anything else.
Most glaringly, it ignores the possibility that there is any unique Ukrainian identity—whether in the historical sense or in a more modern, post-Soviet way. This post-Soviet identity’s emergence, and how it both shaped and was shaped by Ukraine’s politics, is the backbone of Olga Onuch and Henry E. Hale’s exceptional new book “The Zelensky Effect”. There is no small irony that Putin, in embarking on a war based on his misunderstanding of Ukrainian history and identity, he may have catalyzed a truly united Ukraine.
“The Zelensky Effect” is a far more complex book—in a good way—than readers may first expect. It is partly a biography of Volodymyr Zelensky, but it is also a contemporary history of Ukraine. It’s partly an exploration of Ukraine’s post-Soviet politics, but also partly a detailed study of generational change. Much like Ukraine’s identity, Onuch and Hale add multiple layers to create a vibrant picture of Ukraine and its people.
It’s also a multimedia study of sorts of this identity’s emergence and reflection. Few books on Ukraine incorporate Spotify playlist suggestions, bits of poetry, extracts from Zelensky’s “Servant of the People” skits, and his speeches alongside weighty polling and econometric data analysis. At first glance, these bits shouldn’t sit well together, but in the hands of Onuch and Hale, they fit remarkably well.
The authors astutely observe, “How can we know what Russians are misunderstanding about Ukraine if we do not ourselves have a correct understanding of it?” While it is clear that Russia and Putin made successive erroneous assumptions about Ukraine and its politics, it is equally true that the West did not understand Ukraine or its politics. Volodomyr Zelensky was, for many in Washington, an actor and a bit player in the impeachment of President Donald Trump, subject to the same buffeting winds of patronal demands. Ukraine’s politics were thoroughly corrupt and its military was weak (though improving). With this perspective, surely Ukraine and its young president would fall in the face of Russia’s onslaught.
How wrong both Russia and the West were.
“The Zelensky Effect” is about the president, of course, but it is more about the country that shaped him rather than how he shaped the country. He is a member of the “Independence Generation”, a cohort now entering into their late 30s and early 40s, that were born prior to the collapse of the Soviet Union, but that have grown up in a post-Soviet world. This transitory period is critical to understanding Ukraine’s history and its politics. Zelensky represented, in many ways, wholly new software that confounded and challenged Ukraine’s existing patronal hardware. He was still part of the system, but he challenged it in such a way that he had far more effect than his predecessors who were in many ways custom written software for an inherited Soviet operating system.
For as much attention has been given to Ukraine’s deep and rich history, it is the contemporary history that has been even more consequential according to the authors. This period encompassed the 2004 Orange Revolution, the 2014 Euro-Maidan protests, the annexation of Crimea and war in Donbas in the same year, and the expanded invasion of February 2022. These formative events shaped the civic national identity of this generation, which both demonstrated and was buffeted by two other key factors in the wake of the war: the “rally around the flag effect” and the generational transition that brought Zelensky and his age cohort to the country’s leadership.
Onuch and Hale chart the evolution of Ukraine’s politics and the ups and downs, hopes and disappointments, of successive political upheavals. The petty politics of division—geographic, ethno-linguistic (true Ukrainian versus Russian-speaking)—and the continued dominance of patronal and oligarchic interests were difficult to overcome, and even affected Zelensky’s political life following his election. Yet Zelensky, by virtue of his heritage, his personal experiences in both Russia and Ukraine, and his conscious decision to eschew the politics of division and focus on a true Ukrainian identity, helped unite the country even prior to Russia’s invasion—which served only to solidify this nascent modern construct.
It is interesting to note how wrongly Moscow read the mood in Ukraine and its certainly turbulent politics. The democratic infighting, corruption, and resulting public dissatisfaction was seen as weakness and vulnerability. But as Onuch and Hale write, “What Russia overlooked is that people can be extremely dissatisfied with their government and even disagree vociferously on how to correct their country’s problems without ever wavering in their commitment to the country itself.” Far from being the house of cards the Kremlin expected to topple with ease, Ukraine became a violent battleground from which far fewer Russians would return than entered.
While much has been made about Zelensky’s comedic background, it is too simplistic a perspective of both the man and the figure. To be sure he is an actor and a performer. He also knows how to wage an information campaign (and indeed information war) far better and more instinctually than many so-called information professionals. Zelensky’s messaging was seemingly tailor-made for the war that was to come. A part of the “Independence Generation”, he sought to craft and incubate a whole-of-Ukraine identity, avoiding the politics of division. He used his show “Servant of the People” to reflect the challenges that everyday Ukrainians faced (and lampoon their politics and politicians), but also offer the possibilities of hope that things could be different. Onuch and Hale also note how through this Zelensky enjoyed effectively three years of free campaigning through his show. It was as if Martin Sheen used “The West Wing” as the foundation for a future political run (even if Zelensky hadn’t decided to run at the time).
His communication to the Western world is inspired. From his wearing of the olive drab military shirt to the portrayal of the war in Ukraine as a something much broader, Zelensky knows how to tailor a message and does it supremely well. It certainly helps that Ukraine is the victim in this war and Russia’s aggression is so barefaced (despite its attempts to spin a separate narrative). Yet it is interesting to wonder, counterfactually, how one of his predecessors would have fared had they found themselves in the same situation. Would Leonid Kuchma, Viktor Yushchenko, or Yulia Tymoshenko have managed to unite the country as successfully as he did?
Where both Ukraine and Zelensky go from here remains to be seen. Much is contingent on how the war ends. Zelensky has said that any end to the war cannot and will not include territorial concessions to Russia. This firm line in the sand and maximalist position is both understandable and morally right, but it presents a risk if Zelensky needs to retrench his stance for negotiating purposes. Perhaps even more notably, what happens after the shooting stops will be even more telling. Wartime leadership is fundamentally different than post-war reconstruction and rehabilitation—just ask Winston Churchill (a comparison Onuch and Hale raise).
Whilst Putin may have solidified a true post-Soviet Ukrainian identity, how long and how strong that will remain in the aftermath of war is unclear. The pre-war political divisions, regional distinctions (to say nothing of the underlying reasons for many in the east of Ukraine to lean away from Kyiv and towards Moscow, superbly explored by Anna Arutunyan in “Hybrid Warriors”), and patronal politics will almost certainly reemerge. The reconstruction of the country will be long, complex, and expensive. Russia’s actions have irrevocably turned Ukraine’s orientation to Europe—it is in early discussions on European Union membership, and is, consciously or otherwise, development a NATO-standard military force. Yet it remains clear, as Onuch and Hale write that “unlike in Russia, where the ruling elite is still dominated by older generations of politicians with formative years in the Soviet era, in Ukraine the Independence Generation is not going back on the shelf.”
“The Zelensky Effect” is a truly enlightening book about Ukrainian national identity and resilience. The West is rightly in awe of the country’s ability to stand-up to naked aggression and unrestrained violence, but reading Onuch and Hale’s book provides a deeper understanding of from where that reserve of strength originates, and the man that has come to embody Ukraine. Of course, there is a deep Ukrainian history, but it is the post-Soviet period, the years after independence, that deserve much greater recognition and appreciation.
