The Legacy of 1991: How Independence is Re-understood in Wartime

Since 24 August 1991, when Ukraine’s parliament declared independence from the Soviet Union, the country has undergone a tumultuous journey toward statehood, sovereignty and self-definition. For years, the significance of 1991 was debated in terms of its economic upheavals, ambiguous geopolitical positioning, and the lingering shadow of post-Soviet identity. But since 2022, amidst the full-scale Russian invasion, the meaning of that moment in 1991 has been dramatically reinterpreted by Ukrainians. What once felt like a legal declaration has been transformed into an existential struggle—one that has reinforced, deepened, and even finalised the ideals that animated Ukraine’s original pursuit of independence.

From Theoretical Independence to Lived Sovereignty

In the decades following 1991, Ukraine’s independence was often more procedural than substantive. While formal political institutions and a national legal framework were established, Russian influence remained pervasive. Gas dependency, the presence of Russian-language media, and the psychological weight of shared Soviet history all curtailed the development of a strong and unified Ukrainian civic identity.

Today, however, Ukrainians increasingly regard independence not as a date on the calendar, but as a state of mind. The war has catalysed a transformation. Independence is now seen as inseparable from cultural authenticity, military resilience, and civic participation. The idea that sovereignty must be defended daily—sometimes with blood—has radically redefined public understanding of the legacy of 1991. The rights declared on paper now demand enactment on the battlefield, in government offices, in foreign embassies, and in ordinary homes.

The Role of Generational Memory

For the younger generations born after 1991, the Soviet Union is a historical abstraction rather than a lived experience. Yet the war has sharpened intergenerational awareness. While older Ukrainians may remember the late Soviet period with mixed emotions—some associating it with social stability or pensions—young people overwhelmingly embrace the notion of Ukraine as a European country, fundamentally different from Russia.

The invasion has accelerated the process of national self-understanding. What used to be historical reflection has become active identity-making. Museums, memorials, language policies, and even school curricula now increasingly centre upon Ukraine’s distinctiveness, resistance and aspirations. In this way, the legacy of 1991 is no longer passive but dynamic—a lodestar for action.

Political Independence and Moral Clarity

In the years after 1991, Ukraine’s foreign policy orientation fluctuated between East and West. Multiple presidents, notably Leonid Kuchma and Viktor Yanukovych, navigated a precarious balancing act between Moscow and Brussels. This ambiguity has now been replaced with remarkable clarity. Ukraine’s trajectory is decisively westward. The notion of neutrality has largely evaporated, replaced by a moral binary between democracy and authoritarianism.

This dichotomy has strengthened political independence. Public trust in Ukrainian institutions—long undermined by corruption and inefficiency—has grown during the war. The fact that the government, the military and civil society have worked in tandem to protect the nation gives new meaning to the political freedoms proclaimed in 1991. Independence now has institutional guardians.

The Shift from Statehood to Nationhood

One of the most profound shifts is that Ukrainians now speak more often of themselves as a nation, not just as a state. Before 2014, and even more so before 2022, regionalism and linguistic divides complicated national unity. Today the shared trauma and resilience of war have fostered a sense of collective destiny. Kharkiv, Odesa, Mykolaiv, and Lviv now appear on equal footing in the national imaginary. Millions of displaced persons are rebuilding not just homes, but a sense of belonging.

This is not to suggest uniformity. Ukraine remains pluralistic. But national cohesion has become one of the war’s unexpected victories. What 1991 failed to fully realise—an integrated sense of nationhood—has been forged in the crucible of existential threat.

Reclaiming Symbols and Language

The reassessment of independence also plays out in the cultural sphere. Language laws, educational reforms and even street names are being revised to reflect a more Ukrainian-centred historical narrative. The decolonisation of memory—removing Soviet symbols, celebrating national heroes, promoting the Ukrainian language—has become an urgent task. If 1991 opened the door to such changes, 2022 made them imperative.

The fight to preserve cultural identity is now framed not just as an act of patriotism but as a line of defence. To speak Ukrainian, to commemorate the Holodomor, or to fly the blue-and-yellow flag is no longer just symbolic. It is an affirmation of the state’s right to exist—and to endure.

1991 Revisited

More than three decades after Ukraine declared her independence, the country finds herself in a new moment of rebirth. The legacy of 1991 was once associated with uncertainty, fragility and post-Soviet inertia. Today it carries new gravitas, reanimated by sacrifice and purpose.

As Ukrainians fight for their future, they are also redefining their past. Independence is no longer an inheritance but a battle cry. The revolution of dignity, the defence of territorial integrity, and the democratic aspirations of an entire people are converging into a new national story—one that sees 1991 not as a conclusion, but as a beginning still being written.