On August 24, 2026, Ukraine's Independence Day, the publication Wave RBC.UA turned to well-known Ukrainians with the question of what this date means to them today, against the backdrop of the ongoing full-scale war. In the answers gathered in the author's piece, a clear shift can be traced: the familiar format of mass celebration is giving way to reflections on responsibility, memory, and the price of freedom. For many respondents, August 24 has turned not into an occasion for festivities, but into a day of realizing who, and at what cost, ensures that the country remains independent.
From Celebration to Conscious Responsibility
The key thesis running through all the statements is that independence has ceased to be perceived as a given. "Independence is not a state that was won once and held forever; we have all come to realize its fragility and the need to fight for it again and again," one of the survey's subjects formulates it. After the full-scale invasion, she says, the date became "less a day of celebration than a day of reminder and of realizing the importance and possibility of determining for ourselves what our country and its future will be like."
"The Generation of the Deferred War": Memory of 1991
A special place in the piece is occupied by the recollection of August 24, 1991. One of the participants told how, on that day, she was under the building of the Ukrainian parliament and, together with the crowd, was waiting for the decision on the vote for the Act of Independence. She recalls how, two days later, Anatoly Sobchak came "to bring us to our senses" and to assure us that Ukrainians and Russians are one people, to which, according to her, the crowd "unanimously roared: 'No!'" It is this generation she calls "the generation of the deferred war": the fears of an armed conflict at the time did not materialize, and the war was, in effect, deferred for decades — until 2022.
The Fragility of Independence and the Price of Freedom
The respondents emphasize that in 2026 one still has to fight for the right to one's own culture, language, and home, "shedding blood and giving one's life." One voice in the piece reflects on the nature of war: "War does not change. People do not change and, unfortunately, do not learn their lessons… Now it is the same thing, only the sharpened sticks and stones have been replaced by missiles and drones." Independence, according to the participants, "has the taste of the salt of tears, the color of a pixel of our defenders, and the voice of a Ukrainian song that heals souls in the heaviest of moments."
A Look to the Future: Plans for 2050
Despite the grim context, optimism also sounds through the answers. "We no longer think about the future in the category of 'survive until tomorrow'; today we can already think about what Ukraine will be like in 2050 or 2070, about the next generations," one of the subjects notes, adding that the very fact of being able to make such plans "is already a significant achievement." Another ties her feelings to the daily work of her charitable foundation: "Every drone, every humanitarian cargo, and every charity concert is our shared step toward freedom."
Front and Rear: Unity as a Weapon
The picture in the piece is completed by a call for unity: "May our unity be stronger than any weapon, and may the belief in victory never fade. Only together, holding the defense each on our own front, will we preserve and build our free Ukraine." Thus, in 2026, Independence Day for Ukrainians is at once a day of memory for the feat of ancestors and defenders, a day of realizing the fragility of sovereignty, and a day of personal choice to be free on one's own land.
