The opinions expressed in this op-ed are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of Military.com. If you would like to submit your own commentary, please send your article to opinions@military.com for consideration.
Through a drone above a farm destroyed by shelling near my home city of Kharkiv, I watched the grainy smoke and flames spreading like fingers through golden, burning wheat. The fire stretched outward, squeezing red and black from the vibrant gold until it clenched into a fist and disappeared into ash. As an artist, I was struck by the brutal beauty. It felt like a metaphor for war -- gripping, consuming, and annihilating everything it touches.
The soldier in me knew this was no ordinary attack. The Russian shelling was deliberate, an effort to destroy our food supply before what promised to be another brutal winter. Even though we survived the barrage, others would perish from hunger.
War's true essence lies in its smells and sounds: the cries of wounded animals and people, the suffocating heat, the incessant flies that settle on your face and hands. It is the weight of exhaustion and the awareness that some of the best people you know have died while you are still alive.
I have lost so many friends -- brothers in arms who volunteered to stand between danger and their people. Brilliant, vibrant individuals: a lawyer turned commander, a beloved teacher, a gifted student. All gone. They didn't seek glory or riches. Their reward was the simple honor of fighting for what they believed in: our independence, our culture, and our right to exist.
In Ukraine, everyone has a war story. It may not be combat, but it is the constant burden of destruction. We see our enemies' intentions clearly, every day, as stark as the air after a storm.
Their goal is not just to take our land; it is to destroy our identity, our freedom, and our democracy. Ukraine's attackers see our freedom, independence and democracy as threats, and these values have become their primary targets. Their aim is not merely to destroy our resources but to erase our identity.
This is why we fight. We resist not because we seek conflict, but because the alternative is annihilation not just of our nation, but of our very soul.
As an artist, I understand the power of culture. It is both a target for our enemies and a source of our resilience. Ukraine has long been a battlefield, and this history has paradoxically made us inclined toward peace. Our culture, shaped by generations of survivors, teaches us the value of life and the futility of war.
This war, the one started via an invasion in 2022, has claimed countless artists, writers, teachers and social activists. These are the very people who were building the future of our culture. Their loss is immeasurable, but it compels us to work harder to create, rebuild and preserve.
Russia is using kill lists to target not only our soldiers but also our teachers, artists, scientists and social activists. These lists aim to destroy Ukrainian culture by eliminating those who contribute to its growth and preservation. Teachers of the Ukrainian language, cultural leaders, and the parents of our future artists and scientists have been systematically killed in occupied territories. By extinguishing these lives, the Russian army is killing the future of our culture.
Our resistance, both military and cultural, is also inspired by history, especially the sacrifices of American soldiers. We have long admired how American troops fought with unwavering bravery during World War II. My father, like almost all young men in the Soviet Union, had to serve in the Soviet army. He was in Cuba during the Cuban Missile Crisis of 1962. He always believed that the world was saved by the determination of the United States.
We understand the responsibility you feel: the duty to defend freedom everywhere even when it may not seem like your own fight. It is a humbling and powerful example for us. As volunteers, we all came to the Ukrainian army because we felt our own responsibility in the face of history.
Your example inspires us to stand firm. You have not fought on your own soil in a long time, but your battles around the world show us what it means to protect democracy and freedom wherever they are threatened.
The war in Ukraine is not just our fight; it is a defense of values shared by people across the world. Freedom, democracy and cultural identity are not abstract concepts -- they are the essence of who we are. In this fight, art is our resistance. By continuing to create, we assert our right to exist and preserve the culture that has long been a target of those who seek to erase it.
Those who can stand and protect these ideals have no choice but to do so, for the alternative is unthinkable.
This is why we fight. This is why we create. This is why we endure.
-- Slava Leontyev is a veteran of the Ukrainian special forces and a highly regarded weapons instructor for civilians defending their country. He is the first-time co-director of the documentary
"Porcelain War," which won the Sundance Festival Grand Jury Prize: U.S. Documentary. As a debut director, he has also been nominated for an Academy Award in Documentary Feature film and by the Directors Guild of America for Outstanding Directorial Achievement in Documentary. Together with his wife and longtime collaborator, Anya Stasenko, Leontyev creates the porcelain figurines featured in the film.
