Under the shadow of war: an ANU historian’s mission to mend Ukraine’s social fabric

How do you rebuild a country when hundreds of kamikaze drones fall from the sky every other day?  

How do you repair the homes of millions displaced, the roads they once travelled, or the fields laced with mines? And what about the trust between neighbours, the bonds between communities and the very social fabric torn apart by war and occupation? 

For Dr Filip Slaveski, an historian of the Soviet period at the Australian National University (ANU), the search for answers begins not with blueprints or battle plans, but in the overlooked pages of history.  

“We need to let the past speak to the present,” he says.  

“It is widely believed that the brutalisation and trauma of the First World War made societies more violent in the aftermath and paved the way for fascism to take root in Europe, instigating the Second World War.  

“But this theory has little application to the Soviet Union, especially Ukraine, where although the most brutal violence remained a serious problem in the first half of the 20th century, people who repeatedly suffered under it – genocide, famine etc – often rapidly returned or created new types of peaceful, postwar lives. 

“The historical question we need to answer, which has the most immediate relevance in the present is – how did they do it?” 

Drawing on Ukraine’s long history of resilience, Slaveski is now embarking on a major research project under an Australian Research Council Future Fellowship aimed at helping war-torn communities devastated by Russia’s aggression. 

A dialogue with history

In Ukraine, the same devastated territories have endured successive waves of occupation since the First World War – by the Soviet Union, the Central Powers, Poland, Nazi Germany and now the Russian Federation.  

Examining historical documents such as police records of interrogations, personal diaries and letters, Slaveski has observed similarities in the way different regimes have taken control of the Eastern European country over the years.  

“I spoke to schoolteachers who fled Russian occupied areas in 2022 and realised many of their stories were very similar to those in historical records. The way they had been intimidated, harassed and the impact this had on their immediate lives had striking parallels with previous periods of occupation,” he says.  

Despite being in different historical contexts and under the rule of different occupiers, Slaveski realised there was something holding it all together. This reflection was the genesis of his project, motivating him to learn from those past experiences. 

“In the 1920s, there was an interlude from violence when Soviet society, especially in Ukraine, recovered relatively peacefully. These historically tried and tested ways in which past communities reintegrated after occupation must be shared with people on the ground and with the government to avoid repeating the same mistakes,” he says. 

History can show not just how communities survive under occupation periods, but how the justifications for those invasions are often recycled. 

In his forthcoming book, Stalin’s liquidation game, co-authored with leading Ukrainian historian Yuri Shapoval, Slaveski traces the roots of the current Russia-Ukraine war.  

“Many experts say the collapse of the Soviet Union and a growing NATO infrastructure contributed to a situation where Russia felt threatened by Western expansion, resulting in the 2014 and 2022 conflicts,” he says.  

“But Russian political leaders were talking about Western expansion through Ukraine and the dangers this posed as early as 1918. They spoke of Ukrainians as potentially dangerous and of Ukrainian nationalism and fascism.  

“What Putin is doing today is very much a continuation of the types of behaviour others had before him.”  

The human archive

Much of the evidence Slaveski works with is buried in archives he has fought hard to protect against Russian military attacks.  

But these records can only tell part of the story. To understand the full impact of war, Slaveski has turned to those who are still living under its shadow.  

Engaging with Ukrainians scarred by war is no simple task. Some still have family in Russian-occupied areas, and speaking out can put them at risk.   

Years of fieldwork in the country have earned Slaveski trust among locals, many of whom now feel comfortable sharing their experiences with him.  

He recalls speaking with one woman in particular. Her husband had been killed in Bucha, north of Kyiv. They talked for more than three hours. When the conversation ended, she looked at him and said, almost maternally: “You have to watch yourself. You are talking to me and other people for hours. This will have an emotional impact on you.” 

“This woman was in the middle of rebuilding her home after losing her family and yet she was concerned about me,” Slaveski says. “It was an incredibly humbling experience.” 

Until that encounter, the researcher had never really thought about the psychological toll of his work. His concern has always been the wellbeing of the people he speaks with. 

“Their wisdom is essential to my research,” he says.  

“Most of my project’s participants will be women. They are overrepresented in occupied populations, suffering the worst violence and taking the greatest responsibility for rebuilding what war destroys.”  

Australia, Ukraine, and what lies ahead

Australia has contributed more than $1.5 billion towards defence, economic, energy and humanitarian assistance for Ukraine in response to Russia’s illegal invasion.  

Slaveski stresses that how that aid is distributed matters just as much as the total amount.  

“One of the major criticisms by different NGOs at the moment is that much of the foreign aid for rebuilding Ukraine is being funnelled to capital cities or areas that are not under the same strain as frontline war regions that require it the most,” he says. 

“If we’re serious about having a hand in the humanitarian efforts in Ukraine and want to help the country become a sustainable democracy, we need to think more deeply about how and where we direct the aid.  

“My project’s historically-informed approach can provide good advice to the Australian Government on this front. Now more than ever, it is important to show how history can have a contemporary purpose.” 

The recent Ukraine Recovery Conference in Rome reminded the world that peace won’t come through military victory alone but through rebuilding Ukraine’s economy and society.  

And while some have begun to refer to this as a ‘forever war’, Slaveski insists recovery efforts can’t wait for a peace treaty.  

“I don’t think anyone knows when the war is going to end or what the ‘end’ will look like. The future looks bleak, but we can’t wait until some terminal date to start the efforts to rebuild.  

“During the Second World War, reconstruction efforts in Ukraine occurred while the war was still going on. We need to do the same now, so affected regions can have a real shot at success and peace later on.”