By Kie Jacobson – Rise to Peace Fellow
Since the outset of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, Russian operations have consistently blurred the distinction between military and civilian targets, where the civilian population is frequently under threat. The lack of differentiation between military and civilians has been a recurring feature throughout hostilities. However, closer examination indicates a broader strategy aimed at weakening the resilience of the nation.
The treatment of Ukrainian cultural and historical institutions reveal the additional levels at which the war is being waged, detailing the long-term nature of Russian strategy. Not only have cultural sites with no inherent military function been damaged or destroyed, institutions have been extensively looted by Russian forces. From museums to archaeological sites, Ukrainian cultural property has come under threat, with concerning implications.
A Pattern, Not an Accident: Russia’s Record in Ukraine
Indicative of a pattern rather than isolated incidents, damage to Ukrainian cultural heritage has occurred across multiple regions and phases of the war. Even away from the front line, sites such as Saint Sophia Cathedral in Kyiv, a UNESCO World Heritage site, have been damaged by Russian strikes. As territorial control has shifted, a more direct approach toward cultural heritage has been displayed during occupation. In major cities, cultural institutions and sites have been systematically looted, with Mariupol, Melitopol, and Kherson as prominent examples.
In occupied urban areas, the extensive removal of artworks and artifacts by Russian forces displays an intentionality, with concerning implications for Ukrainian cultural sovereignty. The Melitopol Museum of Local History was stripped of historical weapons it held along with gold and silver artifacts, such as Scythian gold items dating from the 4th century BCE. In Mariupol, reports indicate that during the removal of the Kuindzhi Museum’s collection, soldiers specifically sought out works by the artist Arkhip Kuindzhi, whose identity as Ukrainian or Russian has been heavily contested. Instead of being an opportunistic endeavor, the gutting of museum collections seems to have been organized. During Melitopol operations, troops were reportedly accompanied by a man guiding the selection of items to take. At the Kherson Local History Museum, employees from museums in occupied Crimea were alleged to have assisted in the selection, documentation, and packing of items for transport. Compounding the theft of the items themselves, Russian forces have taken museum collection records with them, making it difficult to even identify the full extent of what has been taken.
Beyond their material worth, the artifacts reflect a historical continuity into modern-day Ukraine and affirm a Ukrainian cultural identity as autonomous from Russia. It is the symbolism that makes these items so significant and acts of destruction or looting so harmful. With the exhumation and transport of figures like Prince Potemkin’s remains to Russia, there is a clear message that historical markers and symbols that could be used to legitimize a state are Russian. Yet theft is only one component to the assault on Ukrainian heritage, occupied territory has been subjected to further reforms aimed at the erosion of Ukrainian identity and culture.
Destruction Under Occupation
The measures employed by Russian authorities in occupied Ukrainian territory are not new. These policies draw upon the precedent set by imperial Russian and Soviet authorities, with the suppression of Ukrainian language and Ukrainian cultural organizations. Under first the imperial regime then the Stalinist government, expressions of Ukrainian identity were treated as subversive or criminal. The guiding belief being that Ukrainians were a branch of Russian people and the language merely a Russian dialect. It is this logic that shapes contemporary efforts to erase Ukrainian cultural presence in occupied areas, where such measures are framed as a restoration of historical and cultural unity.
Children have emerged as one of the primary targets of these efforts, with the implementation of a Russified education curricula as well as deportation to Russia in extreme cases. This has involved the destruction of Ukrainian-language educational materials, where use of the language is not explicitly forbidden but is essentially taboo. In addition, teachers and school administrators in occupied territory have been either coerced into implementing the new curricula or replaced. Alongside this, the deportation of Ukrainian children represents the most severe extension of the strategy of re-education, where children are forcibly transported into Russia and have been adopted out into new families. Framed by Russian authorities as rehabilitation and integration, this is intended to ensure linguistic and historical assimilation via isolation and indoctrination. The reality is that these practices target Ukrainian cultural identity at the root. If children are displaced and assimilated, it undermines the formation of Ukrainian identity both in the current generation and the subsequent generation.
In its entirety, the approach to education and children in occupied territory displays additional dimensions of Russian efforts to erase Ukrainian identity. It is vital to recognize that cultural destruction extends far beyond physical damage to property or artifacts, and involves efforts to destroy formative aspects like language and community. In the context of Ukraine, this is intended to pave the way for a broader reconfiguration of historical narratives and public space under occupation, aligned with Russia.
Cultural Genocide
Recognizing the deep connection between culture and society has led to greater awareness of how attacks on culture can be linked to more insidious objectives, such as genocide. The idea of cultural genocide originated with Raphael Lemkin, the legal scholar who articulated the concept of genocide following the Second World War. For Lemkin, genocide was not necessarily just physical harm to a community, but included efforts aimed at destroying its distinctiveness, language, and oftentimes religion.
Taken altogether, Russia’s actions in Ukraine point to a broader strategy that goes beyond battlefield objectives. The destruction of cultural heritage, suppression of Ukrainian language, rewriting of historical narratives, and targeting of children through education policy and deportation do not serve a military purpose. Instead, these practices work as a way to forcibly align the Ukrainian people with Russian wartime narratives. It is difficult to ignore the parallels between characteristics Lemkin identified as associated with cultural genocide and the reality unfolding in Ukraine. The suppression of language, re-education campaigns, destruction of cultural heritage, and looting of artifacts mirror methods Lemkin describes as central in destroying social and cultural foundations. While the term cultural genocide remains debated legally and academically, the concept of the term resonates in the case of Ukraine because it captures the cumulative and deliberate nature of Russian actions, and provides insight into the intent behind them.
Understanding what has been lost
Even though the most obvious markers in the destruction of cultural heritage are damaged buildings or looted collections, the true consequences of the losses are less visible and harder to solve. The value of cultural heritage lies in its relationship to historic memory, the community, and sense of place. To use a specific example, the destruction of monuments commemorating victims of the Holodomor undermines the public remembrance of a man-made famine central to Ukrainian collective memory and national identity. In addition, the Holodomor itself has been contested between Ukrainian and Russian historical narratives. While Ukraine recognizes the famine as a deliberate, man-made atrocity and a foundational trauma in its history, Russian narratives have tended to minimize or deny its intentionality. As is the case with example of Holodomor memorials, the damage is not just the physical loss that occurs, but the ability of a community to authentically remember and communicate its history not just in the present day but to future generations.
Beyond the impact on Ukrainian society, the destruction of cultural sites and items have also been a loss to broader humanity. The archaeological and scientific significance of the Mariupol Museum of Local Lore’s collection demonstrates this very clearly. Russian attacks destroyed natural history collections that not only were a unique repository of knowledge, but are impossible to restore because of the impact climate change has had on animals and plants in the last century. In terms of other items lost, artifacts from Neolithic and Bronze Age burials including those from the Mariupol Neolithic Burial Site, internationally valued for their insight into early human societies in the region, are among those missing. The loss of these materials is a blow to the greater archaeological and scientific community.
These forms of loss also pose serious challenges for postwar justice and restitution. The destruction or removal of artifacts complicates efforts to document crimes and pursue accountability. Even where reconstruction is possible, it cannot necessarily restore what has been lost in substance or meaning. Rebuilt churches, museums, or libraries can replicate the physical, but they cannot replace or restore the original materials, historical continuity, or the trust embedded in intact cultural institutions. In terms of looted objects, there is concern that the items will wind up at auction, leading them to be absorbed into private collections and further complicating restitution efforts. However, other stolen pieces are being placed on display in Russian state institutions or being incorporated into its respective collections, while the destruction or removal of inventory catalogs during looting make it difficult to even fully identify what has been lost.
Looking Forward
The destruction of Ukrainian cultural heritage is not a casualty of war. It reflects a broader effort intended to forcibly reshape history, identity, and belonging. From the targeting of museums and monuments to the deportation and re-education of children, culture represents a strategic domain in Russia’s war of aggression against Ukraine. Looking ahead, the question is not just how Ukraine can recover, but also how to prevent further loss. Museums and other cultural institutions have concentrated on developing emergency responses to protect their collections. In the early stages of the full-scale invasion, this was often done under conditions where there were shortages of supplies, staff, and protective equipment, not to mention the threat of Russian forces. Documentation, emergency preservation, and international support for cultural workers are essential. The challenges facing personnel in the cultural heritage sector are immense, especially given the fragility or size of certain items. However, it is important to consider prevention as much as restitution and accountability, since items become increasingly difficult to track let alone recover once stolen. Beyond immediate protection, it is critical to consider the greater logic at play in Russia’s focus on cultural heritage. The intent is to weaken, if not erase, Ukrainian identity. However, the damage is not just to Ukraine. The collections destroyed and looted include centuries of artistic and historical contributions that are a part of wider human heritage. The protection of what remains and restitution of stolen objects is not necessary to support the legitimate Ukrainian identity but for the global community as well.


