2024-02-15 13:09:26
For a city that has come under frequent Russian attacks, Kharkiv in Ukraine’s northeast is doing surprisingly well. The streets are buzzing with life during the day, the cafes are full and there is even some nightlife.
Authorities say about 1.2 million people have remained in the country’s second-largest city despite the threat of a new wave of rocket and drone attacks. Before the Russian invasion, it had 2 million inhabitants.
Some people have returned to this cultural and scientific center after trying to find relative safety in western Ukraine at the beginning of the war. They did so despite the danger of living in a town close to the front line and only 42 kilometers from the Russian border.
“In one day I feel more life here than in three months elsewhere,” says 29-year-old Katerina Pereverzeva, a magazine editor. In a conversation in a cozy cafe in the center of the city, she told Reuters that she had no intention of leaving again, despite the increasing frequency of Russian attacks. The latest wave of attacks began on December 29 last year, when at least three people were killed in Kharkiv and 31 were killed across Ukraine in one of the most massive Russian airstrikes to date.
Since then, 17 people have been killed and 168 injured in the city alone, according to UN data. Ten people died in the deadliest day since the attacks intensified. Dozens were injured in multiple strikes on January 23. A family of five and an elderly couple were killed in a drone attack on an oil facility on February 9.
Hotels, historic buildings and housing cooperatives have also been shelled, with missiles from North Korea among the weapons used in the attacks on Kharkiv in recent weeks, Ukrainian authorities said.
Kharkiv is less protected by air defenses than the capital, Kiev, and is more vulnerable to missiles fired at close range. Their elusive trajectory and short duration of flight make them difficult to intercept. Sometimes they hit the target before the air raid alert is raised.
“Illusion of Peace”
Despite the constant danger in Kharkiv there is daily activity. Many commercial activities affected by the strikes are reviving, notes municipal councilor Nataliya Popova. However, the city feels under siege and the boarded up shop windows are a constant reminder of the war.
The city’s historic buildings, an impressive mix of Tsarist and Soviet-era architecture, also bear the scars of artillery shelling. In the evening, the city falls into an eerie silence as the boulevards plunge into darkness, even before the evening hour of 11:00 p.m.
“You feel an illusion of a peaceful life,” says Mykola Davydenko, 26, who opened a hair salon downtown last summer. In late December, a Russian drone crashed into a building near Demidenko’s residence and salon, shattering the studio’s windows.
Some of the locals believe that the disaster has mobilized them and made them appreciate the historical heritage of the city.
Until the declaration of independence of Ukraine, the city was under strong Russian influence and was a bastion of pro-Moscow politics. The war has turned the tide of events, notes Anton Nazarko, co-founder of a new center for art and performances. He says that Kharkiv now has a “historic opportunity” to build an image freed from Russian influence.
On a frigid evening recently, partygoers broke through tight security and gathered for an electronic music party in an industrial area, now the Center for New Culture, once a Soviet refrigeration plant.
“If we don’t want the city to lose this creative spark, we have to act right now, to start building right now,” declares 37-year-old Nazarko over the rumble of a deep bass.
Local authorities have also shown signs of interest in building a new urban image as part of a nationwide drive to break cultural and historical ties with Moscow.
In November, the Ukrainian National Opera and Ballet in Kharkiv commissioned the creation of a city anthem. Mayor Igor Terekhov proposed to rename one of the central streets from “Alexander Pushkin” to the Ukrainian philosopher and poet Grigoriy Skovoroda.
Knowledge of ballistic missiles
As in other cities bombed by Russia, people in Kharkiv have learned to adapt.
Speaking outside the badly damaged co-op where her apartment is, Popova, who advises regional authorities on humanitarian issues, explained why corridors and bathrooms are the safest places to hide in airstrikes. According to her, bomb shelters are of little use when ballistic missiles hit almost without warning.
“Because, let’s be honest – it’s unrealistic to get to the basement in 40 seconds or to run to the subway in time,” says Popova. She survived the attack on January 2 in the courtyard of her cooperative by rushing to the bathroom with her young son.
Popova points out that due to the almost constant threat, many local residents rely on the channels in the Telegram application, whose administrators monitor the launched missiles themselves, saving life-saving seconds. As she speaks, in the courtyard of her co-op, a military veteran recovering from his wounds walks his son through the gutted interior of a former gym.
According to the UN, at least 79 rockets and drones have hit residential areas in Kharkiv since December 29, BTA reports. The locals are already so familiar with incoming munitions that in many cases they are able to distinguish them from one another, notes Pereverzeva.
“The sound of a close-range S-300 (long-range missile – author’s note) impact is not as loud as a distant landing of an Iskander (short-range missile),” she concludes.