Nina: Hi Andriy, thank you so much for taking the time to talk. You are a Ukrainian from Eastern Slobozhanshchyna and one of the co-founders of the “Eastern Slobozhanshchyna” movement, a participant in UUHL. I think our readers will be curious to learn more about you, whatever you feel safe to share. What did you study, where did you grow up, and when did your interest in history begin?
Andriy: On my father’s side, my ancestors are Eastern Sloboda Ukrainians from the village of Olkhovatka, located in the Voronezh region. It used to be called “Sloboda Olkhovatka,” or in Ukrainian, “Vil’khuvatka.” I wasn’t born there myself, but that’s where my roots are. As a child, I visited the village a few times, though not often — it’s over 200 kilometres from Voronezh. Still, that place has always felt close to me, and even back then, I began to feel a sense of identity — Eastern Sloboda, Eastern Slobozhanshchyna.
Nina: Could you explain in more detail what that Eastern Slobozhanshchyna identity means to you?
Andriy: I’ve always been curious about my roots. I used to ask my grandmother and father a lot about our ancestors. I was struck by the fact that the language spoken in Vil’khuvatka was different from Russian. Even as a child, I understood that we weren’t Russian in the ethnic sense. The differences in language and culture were very noticeable.
Nina: And the language your grandmother spoke to you in — was it a dialect of Ukrainian or Russian?
Andriy: Ukrainian. It was the Ukrainian language, although in a local dialect — the Eastern Slobozhanshchyna variant.
Nina: When did you start getting deeply interested in history?
Andriy: It was around 2016 or 2017. That’s when I first came across the works of Arkadii Zhivotko. I can’t remember exactly how I found them — maybe I was searching for something about Ukrainians in the Voronezh region. From that moment, I began exploring the topic more seriously.
Nina: What triggered that search?
Andriy: A major influence was Putin’s claim that all Ukrainians are supposedly ethnic Russians. That statement really angered me. I thought about my roots and felt the need to investigate more deeply — to understand who I am, who my ancestors were, and what our true history is.
Nina: How did you come to realise that you are Ukrainian?
Andriy: Unfortunately, my path to identifying as Ukrainian went against what my parents used to say. I never really talked about this with my grandmother, apart from knowing about my roots. But I did talk to my father. He once told me: “We’re not Ukrainians, not Russians — we’re khokhols.” That’s how they used to refer to themselves in his childhood. His friends in the village identified the same way — khokhols. It was a kind of odd identity — not quite Ukrainian, not quite Russian, something in between. He also said that before moving to Voronezh to attend university, he hardly knew any literary Russian. In their village, they spoke with each other in the Eastern Slobozhanshchyna dialect. Only after moving to Voronezh did he learn proper Russian, at a literary or technical level. But he never had a conscious understanding that he was Ukrainian.
Still, he had books in Ukrainian — works by Hrebinka and other authors. There were also books about Nestor Makhno and Roxelana. You could sense a subconscious pull toward everything Ukrainian, but it never fully developed into a clear understanding of his ethnic or mental identity. Today, many people don’t identify as either Ukrainian or Russian. Their identity is vague and undefined.
Nina: Do you think that might be a result of the repression people in Eastern Slobozhanshchyna experienced because of their Ukrainian background? Maybe someone wasn’t directly persecuted, but their parents, grandparents might have been. And they subconsciously avoid identifying with something that could once again put them in danger. It’s a kind of genetic memory, when even a single Ukrainian word or idea could get someone detained, persecuted, or arrested. And not just in Soviet times — even back in the days of the Russian Empire.
Andriy: Yes, I agree. But it wasn’t just about the repressions themselves — it was the constant risk. Imagine living in your village, speaking Ukrainian. Then you go to the city — say, Voronezh — for business, and people mock you for speaking what they call a “peasant dialect.” That humiliation sticks with you. Eventually, living in the city, you start adapting to the local Russian norms.
When you return to your village, you feel morally torn — not fully Ukrainian, not fully Russian. Your identity becomes blurred. This is the result not only of harsh repressions from various eras but also of long-term russification. I believe a similar story happened to Oleksandr Vasylovych Nikitenko — he was originally from the territory of today’s Belgorod region, which was then part of Voronezh Governorate.
He recalled how, as a child, he moved to Voronezh for school and encountered condescension because of his language, his Ukrainian mannerisms. He basically had to break his own identity to adapt to that new environment.
Nina: You’ve been collecting historical materials about Eastern Slobozhanshchyna for quite some time. What has surprised you the most?
Andriy: The uprisings against Soviet rule. Particularly, the resistance among ethnic Ukrainians in the southern Voronezh region — for example, in the Ostrogozhsk district — against dekulakization, colonisation policies, and war communism. For a long time, I thought the resistance was mostly political — appeals to the Ukrainian government and such. But then I found evidence that there was also armed resistance — people took up weapons and killed the Red occupiers in their villages.
Nina: How long did these uprisings continue?
Andriy: The uprisings in support of the Ukrainian People’s Republic (UNR) took place from 1917 to 1919. Many of our people later served in the UNR Army or the Army of the Ukrainian State under Skoropadsky. One uprising, known as the Kolesnykivshchyna, lasted until 1924–1925 — it was a major action. Local acts of resistance continued into the late 1920s and early 1930s during collectivisation. That’s what I know. I’m convinced there are still many valuable documents stored in the archives of the Voronezh FSB, which we currently don’t have access to. If we ever got to read them, I think we’d uncover a lot of unexpected and important truths.
Nina: How long ago did you move to Ukraine, and what prompted it?
Andriy: I moved to Ukraine permanently in 2017. Before that, I had stayed for long stretches, off and on. The main reason was my wife — she had serious problems in the so-called “LNR.” She fled from Luhansk, and I left Rashka, Mordor. We decided to live together. That was the key reason. But at the same time, I realised that my protest activity in 2016–2017 had already brought me dangerously close to prison in Russia. I had been detained, interrogated. It became clear — I had to run.
Nina: When did you decide to become a volunteer? What pushed you?
Andriy: At the beginning of the full-scale invasion, my wife and I were in the Luhansk region, in the city of Rubizhne. By mid-March 2022, it was clear the city would be occupied — Russian troops entered the centre. The very next day we saw this, we left for Dnipro. There, I registered as an internally displaced person and went to the military enlistment office around April or May. But they didn’t take me because of my Russian citizenship; they said, “Sorry, we can’t accept you.”
I learned about the Ukrainian Volunteer Army (UVA) in the fall of 2022. I had a conversation with Serhiy Vasyluk — the lead singer of “Tin Sontsya.” We already knew each other. I asked him a question, and he introduced me at one of his concerts to a commander of a UVA unit. And they took me in. Since December 2022, I’ve officially served in the Ukrainian Volunteer Army.
Before that, I tried to apply to the Right Sector, but due to bureaucracy and my Russian citizenship, it didn’t work out.
Nina: Were you officially registered as a volunteer in the UVA?
Andriy: Yes, I was registered officially. I have an ID. We’re an official unit.
Nina: Can a Ukrainian with Russian citizenship by birth currently join the UVA?
Andriy: Yes, after a background check.
Nina: How was your role in the unit determined?
Andriy: Working with UAV drones happened naturally. I had experience flying Mavics and knew the equipment well. At the time, those drones were the most common. That helped define how I could be useful. Of course, now there are many more types of drones, but back then, that was a key skill.
Nina: Do any effective immigration mechanisms exist in Ukraine to help ethnic Ukrainians with Russian citizenship who are forced to flee due to their Ukrainian identity and the threat of criminal charges or international arrest?
Andriy: Unfortunately, I haven’t encountered any truly functional mechanisms for Ukrainians from the Voronezh or Belgorod regions. I don’t think such mechanisms currently exist in Ukraine.
Nina: Do you think that if such mechanisms existed, it would encourage stronger identification with Ukraine and a greater desire to help?
Andriy: Absolutely. Ideally, such mechanisms should have existed since 2004, for Ukrainians living on historically Ukrainian lands now within the so-called Russia. People who identify as Ukrainians should know that Ukraine remembers them. They would be more eager to help, especially now, during wartime. They’d know they’re not outsiders.
And that if they’re threatened, they won’t be abandoned. At the very least, Ukraine should recognise their right to protection — to refugee status — if they’re persecuted in Russia. Anyone discriminated against based on their ethnicity in Russia should have a simplified asylum procedure in Ukraine.
But again, we run into issues with the State Migration Service, at least as it was before 2022. Many people came to Ukraine with evidence of persecution in Russia, applied for refugee status, and were told: “You must’ve done something wrong yourself, because that just doesn’t happen — Russia is a democratic country.” People actually heard responses like that. It was common before 2022.
Nina: So even after Crimea’s annexation, Ukraine’s institutions considered Russia a democratic country?
Andriy: Yes.
Nina: How would you feel about a new state, Eastern Slobozhanshchyna, emerging if Russia collapses?
Andriy: I’d be fully supportive. If such a state appears — Eastern Slobozhanshchyna — it should work closely with Ukraine and guarantee ethnic Ukrainians the right to their native language, cultural identity, and other national rights. Perhaps it would join Ukraine as an autonomous entity. Or maybe it would be fully independent.
Nina: But what would be the point of being part of Ukraine if we’re talking about creating a separate state for the Ukrainians of Eastern Slobozhanshchyna? Especially considering that every UN-recognized state has its own vote. Why join Ukraine if it’s possible to maintain allied relations while remaining independent?
Andriy: That would be, for example, in case Moscow suddenly decides to reoccupy these territories.
Nina: But for that, it’s enough to have agreements on military cooperation. It’s not necessary to be part of another state. A new country could sign a military and economic alliance treaty with Ukraine. What practical benefit is there in joining? Honestly, I don’t see any — only drawbacks.
Look, first of all, as part of Ukraine, Eastern Slobozhanshchyna wouldn’t have its own vote in the UN. But if there were two friendly countries — Ukraine and Eastern Slobozhanshchyna — there would be two votes, which would benefit both. Secondly, if a territory that has not yet been recognised by most countries is immediately integrated into Ukraine, it could harm Ukraine itself, for example, in terms of joining the EU. Some EU countries might refuse to recognise such integration, and it could become an obstacle to Ukraine’s accession.
As practice shows, new states are not recognised right away — first a few countries do, then others, gradually. This process can take 10 to 20 years. So, in my opinion, it would be more advantageous to create an independent state that is as close as possible to Ukraine, an ally, with tight economic, cultural, and military cooperation.
In other words, it would still be a state friendly to Ukraine, but the status of a separate country is more beneficial, both for Eastern Slobozhanshchyna and for Ukraine.
Andriy: That does sound like a good option!
Nina: Thank you for the conversation.
Andriy: Thank you, too!
Nina Belyaeva
