“Conservatives warn that political interference in culture, introduced by activists in the uncertain time of war and carried out without regard for traditions, can destroy a country and deprive people of their faith.”
Can one imagine a prosperous country without traditions?
For writer and activist Ilya Ganpantsura who advocates for linguistic and religious rights in Ukraine, the answer becomes clear if one looks at poor countries without democracy — for they lack the very tradition of democracy.
“Without respect for human rights — for generations they never knew what a human person is outside of religion,” he says. “Their people will not have respect for elders, acknowledging only strength and energy, which, no doubt, are capable of change. But in what direction will these ideas of change flow, and what kind of state will they build? Will their ideals be great enough to comprehend the meaning of freedom and equality of people on earth?”

Speaking of respecting elders in the context of traditions, his grandfather, Viktor Ganpantsura — a poet and prose writer of the 1950s–70s in the USSR — created his works at a time when the Russian literary tradition was being restored after the war and the revolution.
“I remember in one of his novellas, schoolchildren, as part of community work, were clearing snow, while in reality he himself had been forced to lay railway tracks during the Second World War — unable to study, somewhere in the Urals, thousands of kilometers from his native Ukraine,” he says.
This contrast between the literary image and his grandfather’s own youth has always reminded Ganpantsura of how deeply the traditions of respect, understanding of the human person and resilience were rooted in his generation.
Today, when thousands of people have again lost their homes and suffered psychological trauma from the war in Ukraine, Ganpantsura asserts it’s important to preserve the tradition of understanding and communication without pressure.
“It is precisely the culture of communication and acceptance that makes us human,” he contends.
The news of the week: the frontline Dnipropetrovsk region has become the second region in Ukraine to introduce a full moratorium on Russian-language content. In 2023, such a moratorium was introduced in Kyiv. This means: no songs, no films, no theater, no magazines in one of the most widely spoken languages in Ukraine.
Although the law is local, the precedent is “alarming,” according to Ganpantsura — especially considering its first appearance in Kyiv.
Critics are asking: can street musicians now play a song at the request of an elderly woman — the song under which her husband once proposed to her? By law — no, he says, adding: “This resembles the forced erasure of memory and the exclusion of people. What about those who were born during the Russian-speaking Soviet Union, or pensioners who, due to their age, cannot learn Ukrainian? As a result of such policies, the Russian language is disappearing not only from public services but also from medication instructions, which can be dangerous to people’s health.”
The law was adopted on November 7, 2025, by a decree of the Dnipro City Council at the request of the language ombudsman Olena Ivanovska. In the official statement, one of the reasons given was:
“… the use of the Russian language in the cultural space is perceived by citizens as disrespect toward the memory of fallen defenders of Ukraine and is morally unacceptable in the conditions of full-scale war.”
“Faith in peace — expressed through songs, literature and performances — is one of the essential traditions not only of my family but of all families in Ukraine,” according to Ganpantsura. “It is precisely because of this faith that Ukrainians stand in defense of their country. For without faith and hope, there is no life. And without life — there is nothing to defend.”
The Russian Language — Still Present in Ukraine
The Ukrainian sociological group Rating conducted language surveys in 2022 and 2023, and while in western Ukraine 93% of respondents said they speak exclusively Ukrainian at home, eastern Ukraine showed an unexpected result — even in the context of the full-scale war.
When a city introduces a moratorium on ‘any Russian-language content in public spaces,’ especially in a place where the tradition of language and communication holds not just a form of thought but the values of life we fight for — the values for which our fathers and grandfathers also fought — this marks the beginning of the collapse of tradition.
Twenty-three percent of respondents there speak only Ukrainian at home, 25% speak only Russian and 51% use both languages. This often leads to mixed speech and the emergence of the idiom known as “surzhyk.”
These findings seem credible, he says, even though they were published by The Kyiv Independent, a media outlet that is not entirely neutral in the context of the Russia–Ukraine war.
Despite the growing trend of Ukrainians turning to the Ukrainian language for creativity and daily life, Russian still remains widespread in the entertainment sphere, especially in the eastern regions. To understand this, one only needs to look at the statistics on violations of the so-called “language law” — the Law “On Ensuring the Functioning of the Ukrainian Language as the State Language.” Under this law, customer service interactions must begin in Ukrainian.
For example, in 2024 the regions with the highest number of complaints about violations of the language law were the south-eastern regions with a historical — and still present — influence of the Russian language. In particular, the leaders in the number of violations were the Odesa, Dnipropetrovsk and Kharkiv regions.
The Russian Language — Essential for Defense
One of the most famous performers not only in Ukraine but across the former Soviet Union, Andriy Danylko — whose stage persona Verka Serduchka blends Ukrainian color, modern style and the familiar emotional meaning of songs for Eastern Europe — faced strong criticism from supporters of full Ukrainization after his performance on June 13, 2025, at Osocor Residence in Kyiv. A complaint about his activities was even submitted to the State Language Protection Commissioner.
“It is striking and symbolic that the song he performed in Russian was titled: ‘Everything Will Be Fine,'” according to Ganpantsura.
As long as hope pulses through the Russian language, it remains important, he says: “Just as any language that offers hope is important. And if Ukrainians want not only to withstand the war but to join the European family, they must accept a fundamental condition: diversity in unity.”
“When a city introduces a moratorium on ‘any Russian-language content in public spaces,’ especially in a place where the tradition of language and communication holds not just a form of thought but the values of life we fight for — the values for which our fathers and grandfathers also fought — this marks the beginning of the collapse of tradition,” Ganpantsura warns.
Ukraine is already standing in the fire of war, and if it wants to survive not only physically but spiritually, it must first preserve its traditions, he asserts, along with the human qualities of compassion for one another.
“After all, will banning someone’s native language truly unite Ukrainians who have lost their homes and their loved ones in the war?” he asks.
Consequently, Ganpantsura asserts “the new Ukrainian motto” should be:
“Diversity in unity, as diversity in struggle.”
















