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Kiev

Map

December 18–20, 2013

Maidan Nezalezhnosti (Independence Square) in downtown Kiev has been occupied for a month now. It’s full of people, activity and revolutionary sentiments. And yet, throughout that whole month, not one person has been able to coherently explain what, exactly, is going on.

The truth tends to be unappealing. The truth offends the eye, as the Russian saying goes. But there’s nothing I can do about that—as the only fair, objective, candid and incorruptible observer, I must describe things as they really are and not just say what someone wants to hear.

So, Ukraine. President Yanukovych spends three years trying to work out an association agreement with the EU. You can imagine how much bureaucratic work was completed over that time: official trips, talks, meetings, shmeetings, acts, pacts. The signing is just a few days away when Putin apparently wakes up, realizes that his preciousss is being taken away from him, calls up Yanukovych and says, “Hey, man, are you out of your mind? Screw Europe and stay with us.” At which point Yanukovych immediately lays out his conditions and cancels the signing of the association agreement.

The progressive part of Ukrainian society felt like its dreams had been shattered. I mean, no one likes standing in line for a Schengen visa. And besides, if Romania got accepted into the EU, Ukraine should be a shoo-in.

Ukraine and Europe have so much in common, after all:

Yellow, blue (in Ukrainian)

Approximately two thousand demonstrators came out to the Maidan, Kiev’s longtime go-to place for protests.

So, there they were, protesting, no big deal. But one night, when there were very few people on the square, just a couple hundred, the Berkut special police forces came and beat them all up. Literally beat them up, instead of simply forcing them out, which would have put an end to the whole thing.

And then a miracle happened: the next day, a million people came out to the Maidan. In other words, the only ones who didn’t come were children and the disabled. All of Kiev was there.

The most curious part of all this is that the Ukrainian opposition missed its moment. Instead of picking one leader (and there are, like, three right now: Klitschko, Yatsenyuk and Tyahnybok) and seizing power, which every politician dreams of, they went to the president to negotiate terms for themselves. After all, each of them has businesses, and they’re not willing to lose them overnight. In other words, they could have had the whole country, but they rushed to save their restaurants.

And the protest was sort of extinguished.

The Maidan has been occupied by protesters for a month now, and everyone knows they’ll have to wrap it up by New Year’s. Because there’s no clear opposition leader, because there are no clear demands, because Yanukovych has received 15 billion dollars from Putin in the meantime, and because it’s no use swinging fists after the fight.

During the Orange Revolution, which was one of the most inspiring events in my life, there was a particularly uplifting moment when various institutional bodies began to declare their support: such-and-such police department has joined the revolution, such-and-such mayor’s office, governor so-and-so. Those were moments of enlightenment, life-changing decisions, risking it all and siding with the truth.

Truth be told, those to whom the revolutionaries gave their voices managed to completely screw up everything possible. That’s precisely why Yanukovych won the last election. He may not be the best, but there was nobody better, and Yushchenko could have counted on maybe three-four voices in the whole country, those voices being those of his immediate family.

Long story short, while the Euromaidan leaders were negotiating benefits for themselves and Yanukovych was patching up the economy with Putin’s generous gifts, the crowd stayed put. And it’s still there to this day.

And the biggest truth is that today absolutely no one has any idea why the Maidan protesters are still there.

Every weekend, the main street in every Ukrainian town is closed off for public festivities. Kiev is no exception. Every Saturday and Sunday, Khreshchatyk Street becomes pedestrian-only from Prorizna Street to the end of the Maidan. Right now the geography of the closures is a bit broader, but the idea is the same. Every driver knows how to get around the occupied stretch of road. People come to the Maidan to listen to yet another speaker or concert and hang out. But there’s no other goal.

Let’s go have a look while the barricades and artwork haven’t been taken down yet. This is the most interesting part, after all—pure folk art, unfiltered by corporate rules, tenders, bureaucratic whims and marketing assholes. These are the moments when you can see things as they really are.

The barricades are still up. Fewer people are around during the day, when everyone works, but from 8 p.m. to midnight the action picks up.

Everyone has an opportunity to speak their mind.

It’s not exactly summer outside, so people warm themselves around fires.

During the Orange Revolution, people plastered the columns of the central post office with all kinds of art and signs. After Yushchenko’s victory, these works were covered with glass panes to preserve them. And now a new portion of folk art has been pasted over the glass. If I were Yanukovych, I would put up a second layer of glass for the sake of the humanities. That way, over a hundred years, you’d amass a serious cultural layer with indisputable ethnographic value.

At dawn, I set out to photograph all the artwork under normal lighting. The first barricade in the middle of Prorizna Street:

The second barricade, on Khreshchatyk Street:

Trash cans make excellent fireplaces.

Souvenir sales are in full swing.

Information centers have been set up: people self-organized, put up tents and staffed them with nice young women who answer all sorts of questions, allocate shelter to those who need it, direct people to canteens, forward journalists to their points of interest, and so on. The protesters’ camp now has its own navigation system.

Fridge magnets.

Bus stops in the occupied zone have turned into bulletin boards.

The inconvenient truth is being told.

Crimea and the Navy. I Serve the People of Russia. Victor Yanukovych cuts a deal for Russian gas discounts by giving up a share of sovereignty

People sitting around, keeping warm.

Tents are staked down with rebar, which is pounded right into the asphalt. Empty bottles warn of its presence.

The composition of a barricade.

Some narrow walkways have been left on the sides.

In the middle of the party, workers were sent in to construct a municipal Christmas cone, following the Russian recipe. They weren’t given a chance to finish, but the cone became an excellent pillar for creative banners. Everyone got their square meter of freedom of speech.

It has everything.

Free trade with the EU! Berkut is the worst — Grade 4 class C, Galich—Europe

Illustrations.

Attacks on Putin.

Putin is a bloody dictator

Masters of the wall newspaper genre bringing back the old days.

Everyone hangs up whatever they want.

And writes whatever they want.

And uses wide-format printers and sleek typefaces to print whatever they want.

And gets as creative as they want.

Mafia, Party of Thieves, Donetsk Authorities

Censors sometimes come by and retouch the most unpleasant messages.

Yanukovych is a F*G

Some people still have lots of firewood.

While others are already running out.

Need firewood

Creativity.

Putin’s nightmare.

Putin, we are your nightmare (don’t take us into your empire)

Someone’s on a roll.

New people’s formats are emerging. Everyone writes down the name of their city on a wood block. Amazingly, the composition hasn’t been knocked over so far, although it’s holding together on spit and bailing wire.