The residents who remained in the southern Ukrainian city poured into the streets after the occupiers left. In a surprising appearance, President Selenski speaks of the beginning of the end of the war – the euphoria is huge throughout the country.
On the central squares of the city of Kherson, Ukrainian patriots celebrate the end of the Russian occupation.
The Ukrainians don’t really trust the calm in Cherson yet. On Monday, the authorities instructed the population to avoid Freedom Square in the center as duds would be cleared. But the people of Cherson don’t let themselves be impressed: Hundreds gather in front of the “White House” of the city administration, wrapped in Ukrainian and European flags. Complete strangers laugh at each other on the street, which is even more unusual in the post-Soviet region than anywhere else.
It is the emotions that have been pent up for eight months that have been released in Cherson since the liberation. “I wanted to shout ‘Glory to Ukraine’ and tie the flag on my head,” Olexandra Wetitnikova describes her state of mind during the occupation, which ended on Friday with the surprisingly quick withdrawal of the Russians. She found out more by accident, from her father, who noticed the Ukrainian soldiers while fishing. “I couldn’t stop crying for an hour,” says the 21-year-old with tears in her eyes.
Ukrainian Olexandra Vetitnikova on Freedom Square in Kherson.
Selenski’s surprise appearance
The euphoric mood on Freedom Square increased when President Volodymyr Zelenskiy suddenly appeared in front of the crowd with his security guards and took a quick dip in it. His unannounced appearance may have been the main reason for the Ukrainian demining hoax. As in the eastern city of Izyum, which was liberated in September, the military leaders salute the supreme commander to the sounds of the national anthem. Some of those gathered sing along, even if the stately pathos doesn’t quite match the tone of the festive mood.
Zelensky calls the conquest of Cherson the beginning of the end of the war. While the front remains close, the focus is now likely to shift further east given the liberation of the right bank of the Dnipro and the river’s importance as a natural obstacle. When asked where the army will go next, the President half-jokingly replies: “Not to Moscow. We are not interested in the territory of another country.” Russia sees it differently: In response to the appearance, the Kremlin reaffirmed its claim to Cherson.
However, Russia can hardly influence the reality on the ground – apart from the artillery fire, which can be heard almost every minute. The projectiles hit uncomfortably close, the fighting in the area is intense. The city itself, however, remained largely intact; Landscapes of ruins like those in the vicinity of Kyiv or in the Donbass are missing in Cherson. Ukrainian residents also do not confirm reports that the occupiers left countless mines and booby traps behind in the regional center when they left. In any case, the streets are full of happy strollers on this warm, summery day.
Big damages
The newly installed civil-military administration is nevertheless confronted with enormous tasks. The pro-Ukrainian stance of the estimated 70,000 remaining city dwellers should make it easier to discover potential Russian sleeper cells. Restoring the infrastructure is becoming more difficult: after systematic destruction by the withdrawing Russians, Cherson has neither running water, electricity nor the Internet. In any case, the operator was only able to keep the promise that there would be cell phone reception again in the center on Monday.
Anschela Pavlova is enjoying the opportunity to go outside again after months of Russian occupation.
At least the gas supply is still working, although the residents hope that this will continue to be the case when it gets cold and demand increases. The uncertainty about the approaching winter has already prompted the new administration to ask the population to evacuate. In the current euphoria that can be felt across the country, however, such thoughts are far away for people.
“It’s not about material comfort,” says Anschela Pavlova, who walks her husband and dog on the other side of Freedom Square in front of the “Ukraina” cinema. They just sat at home during the occupation, waiting and hoping, she says while playing with her dog. When her husband begins to report on the atmosphere of lawlessness under the occupiers, Pavlova interrupts him. “We don’t want to talk about that now. I just want to soak up the positive energy here.” She doesn’t seem ready to answer the anxious questions of where the tens of thousands of people who are no longer in the city have gone.
