I spent the seven weeks before Russian President Vladimir Putin invaded Ukraine in Kyiv, prepping for a film I was co-directing with Sean Penn. Like many Americans in January 2022, I was mispronouncing the name of Ukraine's capital city, and had assumed Ukraine would look like every film I'd seen about the Eastern Bloc–cold, harsh, and very Russian.
To my surprise, Kyiv was busy, bustling, and full of energy. Bars were open late, live music was everywhere. I had assumed there would be a definitive "right" versus "left" divide in their politics–each side diametrically opposed, like in the States. I assumed, too, that people would be afraid to talk on camera for fear of reprisals. Didn't Putin put Polonium in his detractors' almond milk latte? Ukraine must be the same, right?
What I found, instead, was that nearly everyone freely spoke their mind and had strong opinions about policy, government, and the future. What people seemed not inclined to talk about were the differences between their fellow Ukrainians. Before bombs began to erase apartment buildings, people were focused on joining the European Union. They had waged three revolutions which brought them closer to modern democracy. They were "Western." The Ukrainians seem to be emulating "us," but they seemed to be better than "us" at it. They had a common purpose, and it was creating real, tangible, beautiful results. I wanted to tell everyone at home that we were doing everything wrong. We needed to stop the infighting and band together and push our country to be better.
Vladimir Putin knew that a successful democracy on his border could crack the empire he was clinging to. Ukrainians remained stoic, but began to prepare. A local attorney I had been interviewing over shots of horseradish vodka invited me to some outdoor kiosks to buy helmets for him and his wife. The broad smile on his face belied the fear in his eyes.
I think about this man when I hear people in the U.S. question our support of Ukraine. After Putin's unjust invasion, it seemed as though this issue could possibly unite Americans–Sean Penn did The Sean Hannity Show on Fox and it was a love fest. But that moment didn't last. American solidarity produced warm and fuzzy feelings, but not ratings. Tucker Carlson quickly figured this out and began a direct media assault on Ukraine. He began remixing Putin's well-worn chestnuts that Ukraine was "corrupt" and "full of Nazis," while Russia bombed maternity hospitals and undertook gangland-style shootings of families in Bucha.
Why didn't our country, its newscasters, and its politicians stay in solidarity? Well, Representative Marjorie Taylor Greene (R-Ga.) seeing eye-to-eye with Nancy Pelosi wouldn't keep the small-dollar donations rolling in. As Time was naming President Zelensky the "person of the year," Greene was alleging Zelensky wanted to kill American children, and that President Joe Biden should be impeached for supporting Ukraine. Conservative commentator Candace Owens proclaimed she wanted to punch Zelensky "in the face." Recently she rolled out "F*&% Ukraine" on the Patrick Bet-David podcast.
Fast forward to now. All but two of the hopefuls at the first Republican presidential debate proudly declared they would abandon Ukraine. This year's pivotal "Would you accept Trump as the candidate?" (though that one hasn't gone away, either) is, "Will you support Ukraine?"
When Florida Governor Ron DeSantis said that Ukraine is not a "vital" national interest I understand that he didn't see what I saw. But at this moment in America, it's enough that the other side supports an issue for you to oppose it. Every time someone in the media asks, "Haven't we done enough?" I think of my helmet-wearing friend texting me from his basement as Russian tanks rolled by, telling me his wife asked him—should the soldiers breach the door—to kill her before the soldiers got to her.
Ukraine is not just a national interest for the United States, it is the United States–or at least a fledgling version trying its best to grow up. We simply cannot ignore this. If we do, we have lost all sense of who we were, who we are, and who we will become.
We saw what Ukraine was capable of, as they staved off a takeover of Kyiv using old school gear and rudimentary weapons gifted by their NATO friends. When Ukrainians saw my Yankees hat, they would shout "Javelins!" or "HIMARS!"—weapons just getting delivered when we were there in June. But as Ukraine has needed more support and advanced weaponry in the face of Russian escalation, the appetite for helping has waned—largely because it's politically expedient for those running as a Republican or professionally lucrative for those in the right wing YouTube-sphere to draw this line in the sand.
Our support for this war just may be the last test of our metal. If we fail Ukraine, we fail ourselves.
Aaron Kaufman is producer and co-director of the documentary Superpower and non-governmental advisor to President Volodymyr Zelensky.
The views expressed in this article are the writer's own.
Update (9/20/2023, 11:13 AM EST): Patrick Bet-David's first name was corrected.
Uncommon Knowledge
Newsweek is committed to challenging conventional wisdom and finding connections in the search for common ground.
Newsweek is committed to challenging conventional wisdom and finding connections in the search for common ground.
