Kyiv, Ukraine – Nadiya narrowly escaped a horrific fate during a massacre that occurred 82 years ago, thanks to her father’s quick thinking. He hidden her beneath a pile of hay while chaos unfolded around them.
“He told me to stay silent and not to move,” recalled the 94-year-old, speaking with Al Jazeera under the condition of anonymity.
On July 11, 1943, a group known as the Ukrainian Insurgent Army (UIA)—a nationalist paramilitary organization—invaded her village near the Polish-Ukrainian border. This brutal attack led to the deaths of ethnic Polish men and the assault of numerous women.
“They also executed those who attempted to defend the Poles,” Nadiya reported.
Despite her frailty, Nadiya’s expression brightens when she mentions her grandchildren’s birthdays and memories of her neighbors—many of whom either perished or fled to Poland. Her own parents never discussed the events of what has come to be known as the Volyn massacre.
“The Soviets silenced it,” she explained, revealing how they vilified the UIA, which continued to resist Soviet control until the early 1950s.
Nadiya also expressed concern that her testimony might provoke outrage among contemporary Ukrainian nationalists who view UIA members as heroes of their struggle against Moscow during World War II.
After suffering through Communist purges, forced collectivization, and a famine that decimated millions of Ukrainians, the UIA leaders thought they had no choice but to ally themselves with Nazi Germany when it invaded the USSR in 1941.
Yet, the Nazis denied Ukraine its independence and imprisoned one of the UIA’s leaders, Stepan Bandera, in a concentration camp.
Another figure, Roman Shukhevych, has been linked to the mass killings of ethnic Poles and the Holocaust, particularly during the volatile period in Volyn in 1943.
Genocide?
Estimates suggest as many as 100,000 Polish civilians, including women and children, were brutally killed during the Volyn massacre, an event some historians and officials classify as genocide.
“It’s not just the numbers that are shocking; it’s the manner of the killings,” noted Robert Derevenda from the Polish Institute of National Memory on July 11.
This year, Polish lawmakers established July 11 as “Volyn Massacre Day,” emphasizing the need to remember the atrocities faced by Polish citizens.
“A martyr’s death for merely being Polish deserves remembrance,” the legislation stated.
“From Poland’s perspective, this is undoubtedly a tragedy for the Polish community, warranting commemoration,” added Igar Tyshkevych, a Kyiv-based analyst, in conversation with Al Jazeera.
However, some Polish right-wing politicians may leverage this day to advance anti-Ukrainian narratives, which could flare up tensions between the two nations, he warned.
“These discussions should focus on historical accuracy, not be politicized,” he added.
In contrast, Ukrainian political and academic circles often refer to the Volyn massacre as a “tragedy,” citing differing casualty estimates and accusing Polish forces of retaliatory violence against Ukrainian civilians.
In post-Soviet Ukraine, figures like Bandera and Shukhevych are frequently venerated as national heroes, with numerous public spaces named in their honor.
Evolving Perspectives and Politics
“The USSR labeled anyone advocating for Ukrainian independence as a ‘Banderite,’ including ordinary citizens who supported Ukrainian culture,” human rights activist Vyacheslav Likhachyov shared with Al Jazeera.
This smear campaign backfired, leading many independence advocates to rally around Bandera and the UIA, ignoring their more radical and violent aspects.
In the 2000s, pro-Ukrainian leaders began honoring the UIA, despite resistance from certain regions, particularly in eastern and southern Ukraine.
Today, perspectives on the UIA are often colored by the current conflict with Russia, according to Likhachyov.
Ukraine’s political narrative positions the Volyn massacre within the framework of an ongoing struggle for land, where tragic outcomes in conflict can be rationalized as strategic actions against perceived enemies, as described by Nikolay Mitrokhin, a researcher at Bremen University.
Many young right-leaning Ukrainians have fully embraced Bandera’s militant nationalism. Before the full-scale Russian invasion in 2022, large gatherings to celebrate his birthday occurred across Ukraine.
“Bandera is our father, Ukraine is our mother,” they chanted, prompting immediate condemnation from Polish and Israeli embassies recalling the historical atrocities linked to the UIA.
Many far-right individuals began enlisting to fight against Moscow-aligned forces as early as 2014 and continued to do so in 2022.
“In a situation where the nation faces existential threats, there’s little room for self-reflection,” Likhachyov concluded.
Warsaw may continue to reference the Volyn massacre to negotiate concessions, threatening to hinder Ukraine’s integration into the European Union if needed, he noted.
Moscow, for its part, seeks to exploit this discord to undermine ties between Kyiv and Warsaw, branding Ukrainian leaders as harboring “neo-Nazi” sentiments, as argued by analyst Tyshkevych.
Is Reconciliation Possible?
Memories of the Volyn massacre are still profoundly divisive. For many in Ukraine, the UIA’s narrative as freedom fighters has only been amplified by the ongoing conflict with Russia, obscuring their involvement in wartime atrocities.
For Poland, memorializing the massacre serves as both a marker of national sorrow and a means to gain leverage in political discussions with Ukraine.
This past April, Polish specialists began exhuming the remains of Volyn massacre victims in Puzhniky, following Kyiv’s recent revocation of a seven-year halt on such investigations. Some view this step as a preliminary move toward addressing the historical grievances surrounding the Volyn tragedy.
However, as historians point out, achieving reconciliation will be a complex and painful process. “Reconciliation often demands a willingness to confront uncomfortable historical truths,” said Ivar Dale, a senior advisor at the Norwegian Helsinki Committee.
“Both Poland and Ukraine have the capability as modern European democracies to engage in impartial examinations of past atrocities—something Russia unfortunately cannot do,” he added.