Even Russia hasn’t sent any observers to the referendum. Voting in Donbas is monitored only by the supporters of the “people’s republics” of Donetsk and Luhansk.
The results are announced already, two or three hours after the referendum is over. They are presented during a press conference where Russian media and the media created by the separatists are especially well represented. According to Roman Lagin, the president of the Central Election Committee, 89.07 percent of the voters have supported the independence of the Donetsk region. The turnout was 74.87 percent. The highest turnout was in Horlivka and reached 96 percent. It is unclear, however, how they estimated the turnout so quickly if complete lists of voters didn’t exist. In the Luhansk region the separatists won even greater support. The people’s republic was favored there by 96 percent of the voters with a turnout of 75 percent.
The referendum took place without any serious incidents. Only in Krasnoarmijsk, located near the border with the Dnipropetrovsk region, did a curious event occur. Some armed pro-Ukrainian militants showed up and tried to stop people from voting. A group of outraged voters gathered quickly in front of the polling place.
“You have broken the referendum!” they shouted. When shoving started, one of the militants shot into the ground a few times. Ricocheting bullets killed one man and wounded another in the leg. The insurgents, disconcerted by the incident, left the city. It was clear they had planned to stay there much longer, because before the shooting they had taken over a police station to turn it into sleeping accommodations.
Yuriy, a local police chief, is well experienced in contacts with assorted militants. Since the beginning of the Russian Spring his police station has been captured three times. This time, however, it was not done by separatists. He claims that their cars had Kiev or Dnipropetrovsk license plates.
“We no longer have vests, helmets, and weapons. They were taken by the men who broke into the station first. Now, when the pro-Ukrainians showed up I could just spread my arms helplessly and tell them that I have only my shirt left,” he says. Because of this incident the referendum ended earlier, but still the local commission claimed a turnout of 70 percent, so its results were absolutely legal.
Except for this unclear incident that probably was the arbitrary action of some pro-Ukrainian group, Kiev took no measures to stop the “referendum.”
The separatists can now proclaim a huge success—Kiev has lost, at least for the time being. Everyone still remembers the “Crimean referendum” that was the last step before annexation by Russia. That’s how it is perceived by the most enthusiastic proponents of the Donetsk People’s Republic, who don’t seem to notice any difference in the questions posed. In Crimea people were asked about joining Russia, in Donbas they were asked about independence or autonomy (the Russian word can be interpreted in many ways). The Kremlin is more reserved in talking about the future of Donbas than it was in case of Crimea. It respects the results of the so-called referendum, but at the same time it doesn’t encourage breaking relations with Kiev. Instead, it pushes for dialogue.
In Donetsk the separatists’ success is hard to notice. The indifferent still live their lives and don’t pay any attention to what’s happening around them. The cautious decided it would only get worse later, so they packed up and left. Along with them many people with pro-Ukrainian views who had doubts until the very end said good-bye to Donetsk. The referendum was the symbolic end of opposition to the separatists. From now on nobody will dare challenge them.
The day after the referendum the separatist authorities decided to celebrate independence. In the evening a round of fireworks was fired from the administration building. The cannonade lasted a few minutes. A tiny group of spectators stood in front of the building. The indifferent ignored it. Creation of the “republic” didn’t take them away from their dinner plates and private discussions in the local bars. They still hoped they would live as before.
On May 25, two weeks after the referendum, Ukrainians were about to elect a new president. It was the number one topic in the entire country (except for the occupied territories). It was stressed that the election results would determine the future or even the existence of the state. Many Ukrainians decided to vote for Petro Poroshenko, although he was not their dream candidate. Yet they wanted to elect him in the first round to legitimize the authorities fighting the separatists and to continue the reforms. But it looked as if nobody cared whether in the Donetsk and Luhansk regions these elections would take place.
A few days after the referendum I go to one of the polling stations that is getting ready for the Ukrainian presidential elections. It looks like a meeting of an underground organization.
“Are you looking for the commission? You have to go this way,” a lady janitor tells me. Only one door is open in the empty building. The members of the commission have gathered there. The most important part of their session is excluding those members who don’t want to hold any formal position or who want to sabotage the commission’s activity. In this case it is a woman sent by the Communists. The Communist Party has declared that its members will not participate in the elections. The Communist representative has stopped attending the meetings, but she has no intention of leaving the commission. If other commission members followed suit, its activity could be blocked for its lack of a quorum.
The commission makes its decision to exclude the Communist. The two OSCE observers are staring at their smartphones. Noticing their lack of interest, the interpreter doesn’t even try to tell them what is happening. They sit there in silence minding their own business.
Will the elections take place?
“If Kiev doesn’t help us, I don’t think so,” says Volodymyr, one of the commission members. He explains that the polling commission is a very fragile structure that can be blocked easily. There are many ways to do this: hold its members by force, take away their computers, and so on. There is no security and nobody to rely on. The members of the polling commission are the last group who oppose the separatists and support a united Ukraine. Yet Kiev is doing nothing to help them with the election. Three days before the vote, the chairman of the commission whose session I attended is kidnapped. In the end, no polling station in Donetsk will be open. In the entire region voting will take place in 20 percent of the stations and a little more than 10 percent of the voters will cast their ballots.
6. DISASTER COMES
MAY 9, 2014. I am planning a trip from Kiev to Slovyansk and Kramatorsk, and from there to the territories controlled by separatists. Another journalist is coming with me. There have not been any direct trains for a long time, but you can reach Donetsk by taking a roundabout route. A night train from Kiev to Kharkiv turns out to be cheap and relatively fast. After that we could get around by bus, taxi, or private car. “To Slovyansk and Kramatorsk?” asks Irina, who is sharing a compartment with us. She is coming back with two children from Kiev, where she was resting from war and the sight of the wounded people brought to her city. They are going home, to Izium, where for a long time the headquarters and the base of the antiterrorist forces have been located. When the front moved into the Donetsk region, the military and the National Guard relocated.