“Had the state been functioning and its officials following orders, everything could have been suppressed by the police and without the special forces,” states Semen Semenchenko from Donbas, the commander of the volunteer battalion Donbas. “I have witnessed the entire process with my own eyes,” he adds. It is true that, at the beginning of the conflict, pro-Russian separatists couldn’t brag about their efficiency or numbers. The police would have dealt with them without bringing reinforcements from other cities.
In April the pro-Ukrainian movement in Donetsk is still easily able to organize demonstrations with more people than the separatists are. But the largest group of people are the “indifferent” types, who don’t care what is happening around them. We simply want to make money in order to live quietly, they say. To them pro-Russian demonstrators are objects of ridicule. “Look, it’s a madhouse,” a man on a bus turns to me. He points to the occupied Regional State Administration, surrounded by dozens of people and several tents. If I were not interested in current events, I wouldn’t even notice the Russian Spring in Donetsk.
“We are here to defend Donbas from the Kiev junta, who despise the Russian-speaking population.” That’s what I hear in the tent of the Communist Party of Ukraine. Other separatists often add that Donbas returns too much tax money to Kiev. In fact, Donbas receives two times more than it pays in. This is not a secret and many people in Donetsk know it. They also know that Russian speakers have never been discriminated against in Ukraine, particularly in the capital of Donbas, where it’s fairly rare that you hear Ukrainian. That’s why pro-Russian separatists can hardly fire up the crowds. Their rhetoric and demands are completely incomprehensible in this city of almost one million residents. “Nobody is discriminating against us,” says Andrij, visibly surprised.
There are, however, places more susceptible to these demands. In Donbas, with its six million people, there are many postindustrial cities with populations of one hundred or two hundred thousand inhabitants. In the times of the Soviet Union they were centered around big factories. The Soviet Union collapsed, the factories were collapsing, too—obsolete, inefficient, and often useless. Today most of them don’t exist and many jobs have disappeared. In some cities unemployment has really become a serious problem. That is why it is not only elderly people who are dreaming about the return of the Soviet Union.
According to Oleksij Matsuka, editor in chief of Novosti Donbasa, many political organizations worked very hard to exacerbate this discontent. They used left-wing populism, conservative ideas of russkii mir (literally, “Russian world,” a nationalist concept of a cultural zone of “Russianess” outside Russia’s political borders), and old Soviet rhetoric. It was they who prepared the foundation for the events in Donbas in 2014. “It is not that Russia just came here. Everything has been the result of our internal problems and Russia interfered a little later,” says Semenchenko from the battalion Donbas.
From March to April the Russian Spring spreads with special intensity to the towns of Donbas and other Ukrainian regions, although it doesn’t go beyond street protests and short-term building occupations. But there were also some tragic incidents. Particularly bloody disturbances took place in Odessa, when the House of Trade Unions was set ablaze and about fifty separatists lost their lives. Clashes were also taking place in Kharkiv, Mykolaiv, Zaporozhia, and Dnipropetrovsk. At that time there was a common worry in Ukraine that the Crimean situation might be repeated, in other words, that more and more Ukrainian territories would be annexed by Russia. Very quickly, however, pro-Russian demonstrations were halted all over—with the exception of Donbas.
In the Donetsk and Luhansk regions hot spots appear one by one. Small postindustrial towns there turn into the main headquarters of pro-Russian activists and militants. It is much easier there to find support among populations struggling with serious social problems. It is also easier to project an impression of mass involvement and total control. Pro-Russian demonstrations in Donetsk coincide with demonstrations in Alchevsk, Khartsyzk, Druzhkivka, Horlivka, Kramatorsk, Makiivka, and Slovyansk. They also erupt in two larger cities, Luhansk and Mariupol. The scenario is usually the same: pro-Russian demonstrations lead to the occupation of the city council, the police headquarters, or the security service.
In Horlivka the police immediately join the militants. The police station is guarded by “volunteers” armed with police shields and batons. The officers do nothing to oppose them. Some surrender, because they sympathize with the separatists’ ideas, others surrender because they know they can’t count on any help from Kiev. In principle, postrevolutionary authorities lacking any structure and a corrupt system make any action impossible. At the beginning of the conflict you may get the impression that Kiev hardly cares what will happen to Donbas.
In mid-April in Kramatorsk and Slovyansk cheering demonstrators are joined by the “little green men.” That’s what the Russian soldiers in unmarked uniforms who were responsible for the intervention in Crimea were called. “We are Crimean… I mean Donbas Mass Mobilization…,” “Balu” begins his speech. He is a commander of the little green men. Those in Slovyansk are armed with automatic rifles and grenade launchers. They also have armored vehicles. A Russian flag is flying on one of them. Until now in Donbas this has been a rare sight. For several months Slovyansk becomes the unofficial capital of separatism. It is here that the majority of the militants’ forces are stationed.
“How did you get your weapons?”
“The residents gave them to us,” explains one of “greens” with a sarcastic smile.
“And what about the armored vehicles?”
“In the morning we found them parked here, so we took them.”
It is certain that some equipment is being seized from the few and undisciplined Ukrainian forces, which in the initial phase of the conflict are not fighting the separatists. Instead, they surrender without a single shot. From the very beginning it is the Russians who are suspected of arming the separatists.
“It would never have begun, if the Russians hadn’t helped them,” claims Vasil, a resident of Donetsk. His view is shared by many people.
The protests in Donbas as well as the intervention in Crimea were caricatures of the events on the Maidan in Kiev. On the Maidan barricades appeared and official buildings were occupied. After a while there was violence, and in the end the authorities were forced out. In Donetsk as well the barricades went up in front of the administration building. Posters and flags appeared. Tents have been put up nearby, there are leaflets and posters. Loudspeakers are positioned outside the building, speeches go on, and music is playing. If we leave out the number of participants, we can get the impression that we are dealing with a copy of the events in Kiev. “At first glance everything looks the same, but it evokes apprehension rather than joy,” one of my friends wrote. As a matter of fact, something is not right.
The Maidan was fighting the regime, sooner or later doomed to collapse, but at that moment still strong. In Kiev the streets were flooded with complete police units who were defending the government. They were the Berkut—the special police forces of the Ministry of Internal Affairs. They had no problem in pacifying their compatriots with clubs, cruelly and ruthlessly. During their first attempt to disperse the Maidan, the police were beating up people covered with blankets (there were no tents on Independence Square yet) who were simply sleeping around the Independence Monument.