‘Unspeakable’: Ukraine breaks the silence surrounding wartime sexual violence
Growing numbers of Ukrainian women in areas recaptured from Russian occupation are starting to speak about the sexual violence they experienced at the hands of Russian soldiers. The watershed moment comes from the amplitude and nature of the crimes, says Inna Shevchenko, a Ukrainian feminist activist and author of “A Letter from the East”.
It's curious that both women in the photo above have "Free Azov" written on their signs. What does that mean?
Grok: The term carries symbolic weight. In Ukraine, the Azov Brigade is widely viewed as a symbol of resistance and heroism against Russian aggression, particularly for their stand in Mariupol. However, the unit is controversial due to its far-right origins and past associations with neo-Nazi ideology, which Russian propaganda has heavily exploited to label them as extremists and justify its actions. Despite this, the brigade has been integrated into Ukraine’s National Guard, and its defenders argue it has evolved into a professional military unit focused on defending the nation, not promoting extremist views.
In short, "Free Azov" means advocating for the liberation of Azov Brigade members from Russian detention, reflecting both a call for humanitarian action and a broader expression of support for Ukraine’s fight against Russia. The phrase has been popularized through social movements, public demonstrations, and online hashtags like #FreeAZOV, often tied to the broader sentiment of "Glory to Ukraine" (#СлаваУкраїні).
The heroic Azov gang quickly diminished their early reputation for Neo-Nazi links, war crimes like torture, abuse of prisoners, gang rape of a mentally handicapped man, and accusations of rape of Russian-friendly women.
Truth is the first casualty of war. The likelihood of getting honest reports from either side of a conflict is very low.
When Russian forces began their full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2022, the bodies of Ukrainian women became another battlefield. Early in the war, reports of torture, mock killings and forced deportations emerged. Yet accounts from survivors of sexual violence were much rarer, because of the silence and isolation of many of the victims.
The cases of sexual violence documented today in Ukraine took place in the areas that were temporarily occupied by Russia and are now liberated. While prosecutors have registered 344 cases of conflict-related sexual violence since the start of the invasion, women’s groups believe the real number runs in the thousands.
Inna Shevchenko, the author of “A Letter from the East”, spoke to numerous women who returned from Russian captivity and testified as to what they witnessed: widespread, repeated and targeted sexual violence – inflicted not just on civilian and military women but also on men.
“The taboo around sexual violence has begun to break, not because society has suddenly evolved, but because the cruelty of Russian crimes has forced the unspeakable to be said.”
Certain women old enough to be grandmothers have begun speaking about their rapes at village meetings in Kherson region to raise awareness. “In the face of such barbarity, silence becomes a form of collective abandonment. And it is these voices, fragile but courageous, that are breaking the wall of silence,” said Shevchenko.
“I think testimonies are very important,” said Mariia Mezentseva-Fedorenko, an MP from Kharkiv and chairwoman of the Ukrainian delegation to the Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe. “On one hand, it’s a very traumatic experience, but it makes other victims come forward.”
Future justice
Ukrainian and international NGOs are on the front lines of this battle waged mostly, but not exclusively, against women’s bodies. “They have an essential role: they search for victims, and they record facts. They often work in extremely difficult conditions. Their role is central – to document crimes, create archives, construct databases for future justice,” said Shevchenko.
The actions of the Ukrainian government are “still limited”, according to Shevchenko. There is still no coordinated national policy dedicated to this type of violence, she noted, nor any national agency designed to provide psychological and social support to survivors.
That is about to change. Ukraine’s parliament passed a bill last November to formally recognise conflict-related sexual violence under the law, paving the way for a national policy on these types of crimes. The law will give victims the right to be recognised as survivors and to receive reparations.
She said applications will be filed through a national “Register of Damage” which will collect accounts of the crimes, including material losses. Mezentseva-Fedorenko called the passage of the law a “great achievement” though she admitted that it does little to address the trauma of victims.
Obtaining justice is also part of the emerging national debate surrounding sexual violence. The main obstacle is tracing the Russian soldiers who perpetrated the crimes, who could be anywhere – back on the battlefield, in the hospital, with relatives, back in Russia, or even dead.
“We are aware we might not ever see the Russian soldiers who committed these crimes in our lifetime, but they can still be tried in absentia, and this would be a form of consolation to victims,” Mezentseva-Fedorenko said.
Russian forces currently occupy around 20 percent of Ukraine, and the circumstances of the inhabitants there are murky because of Russian surveillance, limits on media access and internet restrictions.
“We cannot even estimate the real scale of crimes which are currently happening in the territories that are still occupied,” said Shevchenko.
“The horror continues there, in the silence imposed by the occupation.”
