Dozens of Ukrainians, many of them students, have died since the outbreak of the Euromaidan and the 2014 Ukrainian revolution. However, Ukraine seems a world away, and news from that part of the world is often diluted by time, space, and bias.
So when I met a young man from there, I jumped at the opportunity to learn more. Why was there fighting? Who started it? And which side was he on, the Separatists or the Nationalists?
His answer was profound: Neither — he is a patriot.
He explained that on both sides, a divisive and dangerous sense of nationalism overwhelmed common sense and minimized charity. Pro-Russians seem to care only for Russian power and imperialism, while pro-Ukrainians seem to desire integration in the West and personal autonomy above all else. This tension is grounded in a regime plagued by corruption, scandal, and capricious decision-making, and is surrounded by a powerful and manipulative Russia on one side and a turbulent European Union on the other.
A patriot does not fall prey to such unrestricted passions. Rather, the young man defined himself as a lover of his country who was aware of its faults. His loyalties will always remain with Ukraine, and he will do anything in his power to improve it. But this is not simply the result of his upbringing and the family members who live there. It comes from something much more significant and fundamental, something that exists beyond any nation or tradition. This young man would give his life for Ukraine because he believes that, at its very foundation, it stands for human freedom.
Of course, a statement like that opens the floor to debate ad nauseam. But whether or not Ukrainian government is predicated on the defense of human freedom is not my point. I want to state one simple thing: Our love for country should not derive solely from one source.
Love of country should come from both an attachment to the place and people of a nation as well as the abstract, yet still real, principles for which it stands. For example, this young man loves his country for its scenic beauty as well as its cultural uniqueness, all the while aware of the human freedom it claims to represent and uphold.
Some may counter this, claiming that they’ve “never seen freedom” or live according to the good earth alone. But these are restricted views, and miss out on the greater joy that comes from the full picture.
My friend from Ukraine didn’t risk life and liberty in the protests without reason. He went to Kiev to stand in solidarity with his people, honor his country, and fight for its rightful principles. The conviction that something greater than himself was in danger, and deserved to be saved, caused him to do that which we can only imagine.
As an American, my takeaway is brief but powerful: For what am I willing to give all, to make that last full measure of devotion? In light of the turmoil throughout the world, from the Sudan to Ukraine, all of mankind must consider this question.
At the end of our conversation, my friend remarked that for us at Hillsdale, and for Americans generally, it could always be worse. His family lives day-to-day, uncertain that their business will survive questionable regulation. Each day, strife and conflict rock his town. Few of us can relate to this even slightly.
But the question remains, just as heavy on us as on him: For what will you live, and, if need be, for what will you give everything?
