Letters from the Republic

Alarm after alarm buzzes around 8am as Putin flexes ahead of meetings in Turkey. They pose no danger to me, but I dare not restrict my notice settings any further.

It’s a beautiful day in Kharkiv. I have no meetings until the afternoon and the blood donation center is closed today, so I set off to get some tourism in.

One of 11 surviving Mk V tanks from 1918. Sends a message.

It’s as good an opportunity as any to get a sense of the religious landscape of Kharkiv. My first stop is the Monastery, in the dead center of Kharkiv and running since the late 17th century.

The world shifts as you pass through its gates and Ukrainian Orthodoxy shows its true force. A pall of reverence hangs over the courtyard and priests wear their authority with chests high. Walking into the Intercession Cathedral, I stand out more than I have at any point in Ukraine so far – not least because I look up at the frescos covering every surface instead of down in worship. Dozens of icons hang in the dark rooms and the faithful trickle in with such regularity to genuflect before them.

This place has made no preparations for tourism; it is busy enough as a working religious institution.

The air is cold and light with a breeze filtering through the fine ventilation, but sweet with incense. Still, I don’t hang around – the atmosphere isn’t entirely welcoming.

An unwelcoming place

It is unclear whether these frames used to hold sun lenses, but I choose to believe they did 

There’s not much to the interior of the Church of the Holy Myrrh-Bearing Women, and the context I get from Google reviews is that nobody seems to like it. Sure the church site dates back to the 17th century, but the modern rebuild was completed in 2015. When the Office of the Security Service next door was bombed in 2022, the church suffered some damage to its domes and was hit by some small arms fire during the street fighting; it’s in largely good shape… that being a relative measure. 

Some context. For additional context: the Ukrainian Orthodox Church voted to fully separate from the Moscow Patriarchate in 2022.

The Assumption Cathedral, actually dating to the 17th century, was struck by a Russian missile in 2022 while civilians took refuge inside. The reconstruction will be beautiful, with a beautiful sky blue chosen for the ceiling and flowery molding patterning every rib. Sunlight streams in without any stained glass, illuminating brand new icons hanging over a temporary wooden flooring.

Across the river is the Annunciation Cathedral – the largest cathedral in Eastern Europe – completed in 1901. It’s a bit far, a bit recent, and I just don’t feel like going. Tall as it stands in an expansive sky, it is dwarfed in perspective by an enormous flagpole in the foreground. The Ukrainian flag billows high with a constant wind ensuring it never drops. The whip of the banner carries over the air, rising above the volume of traffic far below it.

On the way back up the hill, I pass the monument originally built by the Soviets for the “Heroes of the October Revolution.” Ukrainian activists struck the original plaques and have simply renamed the site “Eternal Flame.” The flame is out.