The Roots and Persistence of Paranoia in Ukrainian Society

Paranoia is more than a passing sentiment; it is a social condition that arises where trust has been repeatedly broken. In Ukraine suspicion has long been a survival strategy, shaped by centuries of invasion, betrayal and repression. Yet beyond the history of Cossack autonomy, imperial partitions, Soviet terror, and the corruption of the post-Soviet era, the persistence of paranoia can also be understood through the lens of psychology and sociology. These disciplines illuminate how trauma is passed from one generation to the next, how collective memories are transmitted through families and institutions, and why paranoia, once useful, can remain even when its original causes have faded.

Paranoia as a Legacy of Trauma

Psychologists studying societies that have endured famine, war and dictatorship often describe a phenomenon known as intergenerational trauma. Parents who lived through episodes of betrayal or surveillance teach their children—sometimes without words—that caution, secrecy and suspicion are the safest courses. Ukrainian families scarred by the Holodomor or Stalinist purges often passed down silent habits: not speaking too freely in public, concealing opinions, distrusting officials. Even when the immediate danger passed, the patterns of thought and behaviour persisted.

Sociologists describe this as the “path dependence” of social norms. Once a community has been trained to be suspicious, individuals who act with openness may be punished or exploited, confirming the community’s caution. Over time, paranoia becomes embedded not just in private psychology but in the very structure of society.

Collective Memory and National Identity

Theories of collective memory help explain why paranoia retains such a powerful hold upon Ukraine. The nation remembers herself not only through written history but through folklore, family stories, monuments and silences. Tales of betrayal—the Cossacks deceived by Moscow, peasants starving while others informed, dissidents denounced by colleagues—become part of the national narrative. Such memories are not confined to history books; they are lived in family conversations, cultural symbols, and even in jokes tinged with irony about corruption and duplicity.

This creates what some sociologists call a “cultural script”: an unwritten expectation that betrayal is always possible, that power conceals hidden motives, and that vigilance must be constant. In Ukraine, where the past is often close to the surface, this script continues to shape daily interactions.

The Soviet Contribution: Institutionalised Paranoia

The Soviet Union refined paranoia into a system of governance. Its use of informants, its insistence upon ideological conformity, and its manipulation of truth blurred the boundary between imagination and reality. Citizens came to doubt not only one another but even their own perceptions. Hannah Arendt wrote that totalitarian regimes thrive by destroying trust, leaving individuals isolated and fearful. Ukraine, as one of the Soviet Union’s most repressed republics, inherited this legacy in acute form.

When independence arrived, the habits of suspicion did not dissolve. Instead they were reinforced by the corruption of the 1990s and the manipulation of politics by oligarchs. Distrust was again rational, but the line between healthy scepticism and corrosive paranoia became blurred.

Paranoia in Wartime Ukraine

The present war has made paranoia both necessary and dangerous. It is necessary because Russian infiltration, espionage and sabotage are real. Civilians in occupied towns must conceal their loyalties; officials in Kyiv must guard against collaborators. Yet paranoia is also dangerous because it can corrode solidarity. Displaced persons from occupied areas may be treated with suspicion rather than compassion. Volunteer organisations may be accused of hidden agendas. A culture of fear risks undermining the very unity upon which Ukraine’s defence depends.

Paths Towards Healing

If paranoia in Ukraine is a legacy of intergenerational trauma and cultural scripts of mistrust, then eliminating it requires more than legal reforms. It requires deep cultural healing. Several strategies suggest themselves:

• Truth-telling and Historical Reconciliation. Trauma festers in silence. By openly acknowledging past betrayals—whether imperial domination, the famine, or Soviet repression—Ukraine can transform memory into education rather than paranoia. Museums, literature, and curricula should frame these traumas as lessons rather than curses.

  
  

• Building Institutions of Trust. Transparent governance and the visible punishment of corruption are indispensable. Citizens will not abandon suspicion unless officials consistently demonstrate honesty. Trust must be modelled from above if it is to take root below.

  
  

• Community-level Healing. Sociologists stress the importance of “social capital”—the networks of trust that make collective life possible. Volunteer groups, veterans’ associations and neighbourhood initiatives provide spaces where citizens can practise openness and cooperation. Success in these small spheres can gradually alter broader cultural expectations.

  
  

• Psychological Support. Ukraine’s mental health infrastructure has been neglected, yet the war has created urgent demand. Programmes that provide counselling for veterans, displaced persons, and children can help prevent the perpetuation of paranoia as a default worldview. Healing trauma is not only a private matter but a public good.

  
  

• European Integration as a Framework. Joining European institutions, with their emphasis on transparency, accountability and rule of law offers Ukraine not only economic and military support but also cultural scaffolding for trust. By embedding herself in a broader community of states, Ukraine can begin to replace suspicion with confidence in shared rules.

Lessons from Other Post-trauma Societies

Ukraine is not the first nation to confront the inheritance of paranoia. Comparative experiences can offer guidance.

In post-apartheid South Africa, decades of racial oppression had cultivated mistrust between communities. The Truth and Reconciliation Commission, although imperfect, created a public forum where crimes were acknowledged and victims were heard. This process helped to replace whispered suspicion with open dialogue. Ukraine may draw from this model: a structured mechanism of truth-telling about collaboration, repression, and wartime abuses could help prevent paranoia from festering in silence.

In post-dictatorship Spain, the “pact of forgetting” after Franco’s rule sought to suppress collective memory in the name of stability. While it preserved short-term peace, it left wounds unhealed and allowed paranoia to resurface decades later. For Ukraine, this example shows the danger of burying traumas rather than confronting them. Forgetting is not a cure for paranoia; only recognition can transform trauma into resilience.

In post-Communist East Germany, citizens had to contend with the revelations of the Stasi archives, which exposed how neighbours, colleagues, and even spouses had served as informants. Opening these records, painful though it was, allowed German society to begin a process of purification. Ukraine may face similar challenges with collaborators and informants from occupied regions. Transparency, however difficult, is the surest antidote to rumour and suspicion.

These examples suggest that paranoia can indeed be reduced, but only when societies face their histories directly, reform their institutions transparently, and cultivate civic trust deliberately.

Conclusion

Paranoia in Ukraine is the child of history and the grandchild of trauma. It has been cultivated by centuries of betrayal, sharpened by empire, and institutionalised by totalitarianism. But it need not define Ukraine’s future. By recognising paranoia as a rational legacy of survival rather than as an innate flaw, the nation can choose to move beyond it. Through education, honest governance, cultural healing, comparative lessons and civic solidarity, Ukraine can transform a history of suspicion into a future of trust.

While paranoia may once have preserved individuals in times of peril, only trust can preserve the nation in times of renewal.