There are no barricades on Ivan Franko Square in Kyiv as there were in 2014. This peculiar performance is far removed from the events of eleven years ago. Different goals require different methods. Instead of burning tires, there are cardboard signs bearing slogans that express disappointment, but also hope. In this way, young Ukrainians are protesting against Law No. 12414, seeing it as a threat to anti-corruption reforms – and to the future of the state. What is the Cardboard Maidan? Ukrainian scholar Yuliia Fil reflects on this question in the pages of PostPravda.Info.
Ukraine of the Past and Ukraine of the Future
Cardboard Maidan – is that not too ambitious a name for the protests on Ivan Franko Square in Kyiv? After all, the word “Maidan” is associated with revolution, and it is still too early to speak of one. But it is also associated with hopes for the future. Objective historical processes are unfolding in Ukrainian society. This is a struggle between two forces: conservatives interested in preserving the Ukraine of the past and those seeking change and the construction of a new Ukraine of the future. Who are all these people who, on July 23, in the fourth year of the full-scale war, came out to protest against the adoption of Law No. 12414?
Being among them and listening to their conversations, one notices that they are mostly young people oriented toward Ukraine’s future and who perceive the current authorities as a conservative force. None of them had previously taken to the streets during Ukraine’s war for survival, because they believed it was necessary to unite against a mortal enemy and refrain from internal political confrontation. However, they viewed the adoption of a law eliminating the independence of anti-corruption institutions as a violation of the social contract that imposed a moratorium on public political protests during wartime. They are outraged not only by the content of the law, but also by the circumstances under which it was adopted: during the most passive and relaxed month of the year, when Ukrainians are vacationing at the seaside, at summer cottages, and in the Carpathian Mountains, in order to avoid public attention as much as possible.
At first glance, calling the government of the relatively young President Volodymyr Zelenskyy and his team archaic and conservative seems counterintuitive. After all, he came to power as an outsider, far removed from politics – “from the people,” so to speak – someone who shared their hopes and aspirations. Perhaps the young people now gathered on the Maidan initially thought the same. But over time, they began to doubt this and came to believe that the authorities increasingly prioritize their own interests over national ones and make undemocratic decisions.
The protesters are convinced that, despite the façade of digitalization and de-oligarchization, the current government is interested in preserving the “old” Ukraine – a Ukraine of corruption, hierarchical relationships, and post-Soviet practices – because this guarantees its own survival. The changes Ukraine seeks and that are being implemented through the process of European integration contradict the interests of those who use their positions of power for personal gain. Therefore, transparency and oversight by society, as well as by state and international institutions, are highly undesirable for those in power. This raises the question: how sincere is the government when it speaks about Ukraine’s course toward European integration?
The second tendency – the orientation toward the future – is embodied precisely by those young people who, for several days in a row, have been shouting profane slogans in front of – ironically enough – the National Academic Drama Theater. They want to show that they care deeply about what is happening in the country, not only because they are young, their lives lie ahead of them, and they do not want to spend those lives in a corrupt, oligarchic country, but also because they see themselves as active subjects responsible for the fate of their country.
Public figure Valerii Pekar wrote the following about the youth at the Cardboard Maidan on his Facebook page:
“This is their initiation – their entry into adulthood and agency. The previous Revolution of Dignity is history and legend to them. So, to some extent, they see themselves as continuers of the tradition, and this is evidenced by the slogans of previous Maidans that occasionally emerge among the new ones… The light, joyful atmosphere and confidence in their own strength contrast sharply with the first days of Euromaidan, when the air was filled with a sense of lost opportunities and ‘hopeless hopes.’ An incredible new feature of the ‘cardboard revolution’ is that almost every person carries their own creative slogan, and you want to photograph and write them down. This is an expression of a higher level of agency, of that Ukrainian feeling of ‘I am a drop in the ocean.’”
The protest turned out to be not only a way of expressing the will of the people, but also a form of self-expression for each participant. It became a kind of protest-performance – both a political and artistic action at once – revealing not only the will of the participants, but also their creativity. Most importantly, these slogans testify to agency and activism, making visible what had previously remained hidden within the Ukrainian collective unconscious.
Among the cardboard slogans are those that directly appeal to agency and responsibility: “I am the government,” “The government is us,” “The government is the people,” “We are the voice,” “I am not a sucker.” By contrast, one immediately recalls the artificial orange ribbons and flags of the first Maidan, produced not by the people, but for the people. Now, however, the people create their own symbols, and they are highly expressive – “cardboards” as something simple, unpretentious, democratic, yet meaningful, because they convey the people’s disappointment and aspirations while containing concise but powerful messages to the authorities.
Only the Ukraine of the Future Will Endure
The open struggle between these two tendencies – toward preservation and toward development – began back in 2005 with the Orange Revolution and continued with the Revolution of Dignity, yet neither side has achieved victory so far. Today, protesters are taking to the streets to prevent the triumph of conservative forces and to fight for the Ukraine of the future so as not to remain trapped in the Ukraine of the past.
Moreover, although not all participants in the protests consciously realize it, the idea is certainly present within the collective unconscious: what is at stake is not only the independence of anti-corruption institutions, nor even solely Ukraine’s future as part of European integration, but the very survival of the state itself. For only the Ukraine of the future will be capable of defeating the enemy and preventing another invasion.
The Ukraine of the past – with its corruption, distance between the authorities and the people, irresponsibility, and weak institutions – has no chance of standing against an enemy with the same problems but several times larger. Thus, whereas previously Ukraine could afford compromises in the process of nation-building – as during the first explosion of popular will in 2005 or the second in 2014, when old elites remained in power and reforms were implemented only partially – the war now leaves no room for such compromises. Either Ukraine fully embarks on the path of reforms and transformation, gaining a chance for development and a future, or it will be swallowed by the enemy – or simply decline.
One of Ukraine’s problems remains the absence of a vision of victory, and many believe there is no need to think beyond victory on the battlefield, which with each passing year of war appears increasingly elusive. But the simple fact of Ukraine’s geographic position means that the enemy will always remain its neighbor and, most likely, will continue threatening it even after defeat. This means that the very idea of victory is inseparably connected with a vision of the Ukraine of the future.
What kind of Ukraine must exist so that its treacherous neighbor never again dares to attack? It becomes obvious that Ukraine must be a European, democratic, free, innovative, tolerant, multicultural state with strong institutions and a developed civil society. The protest demonstrated that such an image of Ukraine is gradually crystallizing, that people deeply care about what kind of country Ukraine will become, and that they are already prepared to take responsibility for decisions upon which its future depends.
The Cardboard Maidan Makes Ukraine Stronger
Accusations that the protesters are destabilizing the situation are now coming not only from bloggers but also from certain representatives of state institutions. Which side is right in this political confrontation? Only public dialogue can provide an answer convincing to everyone.
There is one essential feature that distinguishes the current protest from those of 2003–2004 and 2013–2014: all sides in the political conflict recognize a common goal – to withstand a mortally dangerous enemy seeking to destroy them.
All suggestions that pro-Russian forces are influencing the situation are nothing more than manipulation. Contrary to alarmist claims that protests during wartime threaten national security, in democratic societies they are a form of dialogue with the authorities and an instrument of change; only authoritarian regimes perceive them as a threat. Moreover, protests are a traditional form of public dialogue within Ukrainian political culture. Protest actions are one of the democratic institutions that strengthen the state, and this is precisely where Ukraine’s advantage over Russia lies.
The steps taken by the Ukrainian authorities toward the protesters indicate that they understand this: Volodymyr Zelensky has promised to consider a bill restoring the independence of anti-corruption institutions.
