Odesa: A City of Beauty, History, and Enduring Hope

Perched along the northwestern shore of the Black Sea, Odesa has long stood as one of Ukraine’s most enchanting cities—radiating charm through its sun-drenched boulevards, neoclassical architecture and cosmopolitan air. Known for its vibrant port, elegant opera house and tree-lined Potemkin Stairs, Odesa has for centuries been a cultural and economic jewel of the region. Yet in the shadow of war, this city of light has endured darkness. Since the full-scale Russian invasion of Ukraine in 2022, Odesa has faced missile strikes, drone assaults and psychological pressure. Despite it all, the city has retained its spirit and looks resolutely to the future.

A Cosmopolitan History

Odesa’s origins stretch back to the late 18th century, when Catherine the Great ordered the establishment of a Russian port on the ruins of a Turkish fortress known as Khadjibey. In 1794, Odesa was officially founded and soon became a magnet for settlers from across the Russian Empire and beyond. Under the guidance of foreign architects, military engineers and traders—many of them French, Italian, Greek or Jewish—the city quickly evolved into a bustling, multicultural hub of commerce and art. Its wide streets, Mediterranean flair, and proximity to the sea gave it a unique ambiance.

During the 19th century, Odesa became the Russian Empire’s third-largest city, after Moscow and St. Petersburg, and developed a distinctive identity shaped by trade, literature and theatre. The free port status granted to Odesa in 1819 spurred economic growth, turning the city into one of the busiest ports in the Black Sea. The city became a crucible of cultures, languages, and ideas—hosting large communities of Jews, Armenians, Bulgarians, Italians, Germans, and Greeks alongside Ukrainians and Russians.

The city has long been known for its humour, irreverence and tolerance. Odesa nurtured literary giants such as Isaac Babel and musicians like Leonid Utyosov, and it stood as a haven for Jews, Armenians, Greeks and others seeking refuge and opportunity. Although periods of pogroms and repression marred its past, Odesa retained a pluralistic ethos that separated it from the nationalistic currents elsewhere in the region. Its legacy of multiculturalism remains visible in the architecture, cuisine, and traditions that define the city's character.

War Comes to the Pearl of the Black Sea

In 2022, the brutal expansion of Russia’s war on Ukraine shattered Odesa’s sense of relative calm. While the city was initially spared the most devastating early battles—such as those suffered in Mariupol or Kharkiv—it did not escape the war’s reach. Cruise missiles struck civilian infrastructure. Iranian-made drones buzzed overhead, exploding in port facilities and apartment blocks. The nearby port towns of Zatoka and Bilhorod-Dnistrovskyi were similarly affected. Lives were lost. Businesses shuttered. Tourists vanished; and with them, a measure of joy.

Beyond the physical destruction, the psychological toll has been profound. Odesa, a city where many people historically spoke Russian in daily life, began a cultural transformation. For many Odessans, the war has been a wake-up call. Russian-language billboards were replaced with Ukrainian ones. Children who grew up speaking Russian at home now learn Ukrainian in schools. Cultural events increasingly promote Ukrainian authors, history and traditions. This linguistic and cultural shift does not necessarily reflect hatred of the Russian people, but rather a decisive rejection of the violence committed in their name. Language has become a shield and a statement of belonging.

Economically, the city has suffered acutely from the disruption of trade and the partial blockade of its port. As one of Ukraine’s primary maritime gateways, Odesa’s port once exported vast quantities of grain, oil and manufactured goods. Russia’s attacks on port infrastructure have disrupted exports, imperilled global food supply chains, and pushed many local businesses to the brink. The hospitality and tourism sectors—long reliant on the summer influx of visitors to the city’s beaches and historic sites—have been decimated. Hotels now house internally displaced persons (IDPs) rather than vacationers.

Indeed one of the most visible human consequences of the war in Odesa has been the influx of IDPs. Tens of thousands of Ukrainians fleeing the devastation of Mykolaiv, Kherson, Donetsk and other embattled areas sought refuge in Odesa. The city, while under pressure, has responded with compassion. Municipal authorities, NGOs, churches, and volunteers have organised food distributions, shelter, legal assistance and trauma counselling. Schools have opened their doors to displaced children. Doctors and psychologists have provided care under difficult conditions. This wave of solidarity has tested but also demonstrated the resilience and generosity of the people of Odesa.

Amidst the adversity, daily life has found moments of normalcy. Cafés and bookstores have reopened. Musicians still perform in the courtyards. The opera house—a marvel of 19th-century architecture—has hosted performances that blend mourning with defiance. Artists paint murals celebrating Ukrainian courage. Weddings take place in quiet ceremonies. These are not acts of denial, but of quiet resistance.

Beauty Amidst Resilience

Despite the trials of war, Odesa has refused to surrender its soul. Its historic opera house reopened even amidst the threat of bombardment, becoming a symbol of defiance and beauty. Street art bloomed anew, with murals commemorating heroes and dreams. Cafés reopened, offering patrons coffee and a sense of normalcy. The Black Sea sparkles on sunny days, offering brief moments of peace.

Beyond the city, the surrounding region holds equal allure. The vineyards near Shabo continue to produce wine; the Dniester estuary remains rich with birdlife; and the port towns—though bruised—retain their maritime charm. The resilience of the Odesa region’s people has kept much of the local economy alive, from agriculture to logistics.

A Future Worth Building

Odesa’s future will depend in large part on the outcome of the war. But already civic leaders, architects and planners are imagining a post-war city that blends historical preservation with innovation. Green rebuilding initiatives, support from the European Union and twin-city relationships with metropolises around the world provide hope.

The EU has promised support for Ukraine’s Black Sea economy, and there is widespread international recognition that Odesa’s port must play a crucial role in future food exports and maritime trade. Tourism, though dormant, may one day return stronger than ever, spurred by global admiration for Ukraine’s resilience.

Crucially, the people of Odesa refuse to let war define them. They continue to write, paint, sing, teach, build and dream. In every cobblestone of Deribasivska Street and in every tree along Prymorskyi Boulevard, there is a memory of peace—and a determination to find it again.

Odesa is more than a city; it is a living testament to Ukraine’s cultural wealth and unyielding spirit. Its history is one of adaptation and openness and in the face of war, it has not lost its character—it has evolved. The Russian bombs have destroyed buildings but not the soul of Odesa. The language has changed, but the music plays on. With the war’s end—however it may come—the city will rise again, shimmering on the edge of the Black Sea, as beautiful and resilient as ever.