OPINION: Public Desertion and Going Home to Die

On Sept. 21, a “bomb” exploded in Ukraine - not a Russian explosive one, but a domestic “information bomb” and the "fallout" is only now beginning to shake the country’s radicalized and war-exhausted population.

The “bomb” was launched by a well-known public activist, blogger, and founder of the literary festival Vydelka Fest, Serhiy Gnezdilov, who stated that after five years of service in the Ukrainian armed forces – including many months on the front line – he was “leaving the location of his military unit without permission and ending his military service”.

In other words, he was announcing his desertion from the Ukrainian army.

The point of this public demonstration was to kick off what he sees as the need for an open debate about the rules that govern the disparity that exists between Ukrainian mobilization and demobilization legislation - which for the latter currently does not exist on paper or in practice.

Ukrainian society has been split down the middle by Gnezdilov’s actions. Some voices are supportive while others, like the well-known lawyer and serviceman, Masi Nayem who angrily said: “Firstly, it is immoral in relation to those who died and were wounded. They gave their lives and health to prevent the front lines from being surrendered to the enemy. It is also unfair to your brothers-in-arms who remain on the front line, in service!”   

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However, Nayem then added: “It is a great pity that society has absolved itself of responsibility for the war, believing that donations and posts on Facebook are enough!"

Gnezdilov certainly did his bit for the war effort. In 2019, he took academic leave from Lviv University, where he was studying to be a journalist, to volunteer for the armed forces and then served in some of the hottest spots of the war - in Pesky near Donetsk and in Bakhmut. But after five years of service, he snapped and, during a discussion at the Festival of Ideas in Kyiv, he announced his decision to unilaterally end his military service.

“The authorities have decided to withdraw from this issue,” he said.  “It is not the nation that goes to the front, but the losers – those who were caught by military enlistment officers. Right now, muscle-bound guys in gyms are boasting to each other about how much they paid and to whom, to avoid what they call someone else’s war. We need decisive action and equality of citizens not only in terms of their rights, but also in terms of their responsibilities.”   

Gnezdilov’s actions may not have garnered so much of the harsh condemnation that could have been expected because his words ring true.

In the minds of patriotic Ukrainians, the packed cafes and bars in Kyiv and Lviv are no longer associated with a brave civilian population determined to show they will not be beaten by air raids and power outages. Now the sight of nightclub-goers, men having their beards trimmed in barber shops, and others working up a sweat in fitness centers gives rise to indignation and doubt about the existence of a fair mobilization strategy.

At the same time the humiliating term “busification” is heard increasingly often. It refers to the process of forcibly detaining men on the street, then placing them in a “bus” and delivering them to a mobilization center from where there is only one road – that leads to an army training ground.

The term is already used by Members of Parliament, although it sounds offensive both to representatives of the army and to the victims of this man-hunt procedure, reminiscent of the British Royal Navy’s Victorian-era “press-gangs.”

Gnezdilov knows that he broke the law and that for unauthorized abandonment of his unit, he could get a prison sentence of up to 12 years. It seems that he is ready to face the consequences.

On Sept. 23, the Prosecutor General's Office opened a criminal case against him, but he has not been arrested. Instead, there have been attempts to “talk to him.”

It is clear that the authorities are waiting for the resulting heated discussion to die down. Neither the Ministry of Defense nor the President’s Office want this case to gain a higher profile in the public consciousness than it already ahs.

Meanwhile, a 39-year-old veteran of the ongoing Russian-Ukrainian war, Oleh Latyshev, has been buried without military honors causing outrage among those who knew and fought with him.

Latyshev took part in military operations in the Donbas in 2014-2015 and was called up at the beginning of the 2022 full-scale invasion. He fought in battles in Bucha, Sumy region, and Bakhmut, where he was seriously wounded. After eight months in hospitals, he returned home to Ostroh, where he died as a result of the injuries he received at the front – just like his brother Taras, who also died from wounds a year ago.

Latyshev's mistake was not to return to his military unit, after leaving hospital, to deal with his demobilization paperwork. Since the paperwork was not completed his official status was – a soldier who had left his unit without permission – in other words, he was designated as a deserter.

I wonder how many of the soldiers who gain the status of deserter are people whose injuries left them too weak to return to their units to “sign out”and who simply went home to die.

In April the Verkhovna Rada, Ukraine’s parliament, adopted a law on mobilization. Initially, this law included an article on demobilization which, according to the draft law, would occur after 36 months of military service. This article was removed from the law at the request of Defense Minister Umerov and Commander-in-Chief of the Ukrainian Armed Forces General Syrsky.

At the time, indignant soldiers were promised a separate law on demobilization – but they are still waiting, as no such bill has appeared.