Please, Do Not Betray My Crimea

Crimea is not just a lump of land, it is the home to many hundreds of thousands of Ukrainians. In exile or under occupation, it is a part of our soul.

Source: Anadolu agency

I have friends from Crimea. We all left the peninsula when we started university, but I still remember how we’d gather back in our hometown by the Black Sea during the summer. We preferred the mountains, and now, I regret not spending more time by the water.

In the small village of Koktebel, we would gather lavender or hike across the hills where the scorching air smelled of juniper, lavender, and pine — infused with the warm breeze from the Black Sea and the refreshing coolness of the Crimean mountains.

People from all over the world — from my Ukraine, but also from Georgia, Uzbekistan, Russia, Kazakhstan, Turkey, the US, and the Netherlands — would flock to our peninsula, the southernmost part of the country.

This was especially true during the summer, when the Kazantip electronic dance festival was held. My parents never allowed me to go, I was a kid, but I remember the stories my older friends used to tell. And I listened to other stories, like the US editor who told me how he and his friends once made honey there. This from a man whose hobby is hunting in the US southern states. It felt like Crimea had something for everyone.

I still have high school classmates who stayed on after the Russian invasion, but I don’t know what’s happened to them. We lost touch, and it is probably dangerous for them to contact an old friend in a supposed enemy state. I often think about how all our lives have been changed. Mostly changed beyond recognition.

Some of us had to leave the peninsula. Others stayed, but that meant adapting and living under Russian law, enforced by Russian secret policemen with an enthusiasm for hunting humans holding the wrong thoughts in their heads. And torturing or jailing anyone, even for a suspicion of wrongdoing.

Crimea did not ask for this. It wanted the opposite — to be a part of Ukraine. It proved this in 1991, when a clear majority voted to join the new Ukrainian state, and in the bogus referendum of 2014 when as few as 15% of the population voted to join Russia amid on-street violence and intimidation, before the Kremlin falsified the figures (2013 polling by Gallup showed only 23% in favor of union with Russia).

Since 2014, Crimea has become increasingly isolated from the world.

Russia’s act of theft has taken land and lives not only from millions of Ukrainians, but also from the world. Because who in their right mind would go there now, when Russia is using Crimea as a launchpad for missile attacks on Ukraine?

When I read articles in some of the respected media outlets today about the possible recognition of annexed Crimea as Russian territory, I sincerely hope this is an idea that never becomes reality.

Because, I ask, what would this mean for Ukrainians still living in Crimea? It would mean that they are abandoned. That the idea of justice is just that — an idea that can be thrown away at a moment’s notice for the convenience of bigger countries.

For years, many have anticipated the return of Ukrainian forces, including those from Crimea, with the hope that their presence would mark the restoration of liberty and the end of occupation. Such a development would not only represent a significant step toward Ukraine’s victory but also signal to the international community that acts of aggression can be effectively resisted and overcome.

The villagers and townspeople of Ukraine are not the only ones waiting for a better tomorrow. We remember the tens of thousands of Ukrainians held illegally, or on false charges, in pre-trial detention centers on the peninsula.

Crimea’s surrender would mean these patriots would remain in Russia’s routinely cruel prisons, with no hope of freedom.

It would mean that the illegal pipeline to funnel kidnapped Ukrainian children through Crimea would continue.

And for the many hundreds of thousands forced to flee Crimea? They would have no option to return.

Russia is hellbent on its imperial mission in Crimea. It forces people to flee, and for those who remain, it offers prison or citizenship of its imperial dictatorship. Since the illegal annexation, Crimean residents have been forced to take Russian passports. Those who haven’t may face increased scrutiny, or something darker and worse.

As you read this, many Crimeans are fighting on the front lines. They did so because their territory was invaded by a foreign invader. Many have died in a war started by Russia.

Have they sacrificed their lives for nothing?

And if we want to talk seriously about justice, then let’s ask — What is the legal path to make Crimea a place you and I can freely visit, the place it was before 2014? Not for propaganda tours arranged by Russian state television, but so that anyone can get on a plane and fly there, just because they want to see this part of the world.

When you can go once again, travel freely to my home in Crimea, you will know that international law is working. That the world is safe.

But if you can’t — and it’s far too dangerous right now — then the most basic questions of safety and justice remain unresolved.

Recognizing or normalizing the annexation of Crimea would once again send a message to authoritarian regimes around the world: You can take land by force, and no one will stop you.

I hope — and believe — that we can do better.

That we can live in a safe world, and that everyone can come to Crimea once again. A Crimea where I’ve found my lost friends and where you, a stranger, can join us and enjoy this painfully beautiful Black Sea peninsula without any armed men and military bases. And I’ll be there, translating and guiding you.

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By Elina Beketova. Elina Beketova is a Non-resident Fellow with the Democratic Resilience program at the Center for European Policy Analysis (CEPA). Article first time published on CEPA web page. Prepared for publication by volunteers from the Res Publica - The Center for Civil Resistance.