Why Does Ukraine Have So Few Diplomats?

In the midst of a war for survival, diplomacy can seem a luxury. Soldiers defend trenches, volunteers supply the wounded, and engineers keep the power running. Yet diplomacy—the art of persuasion, relationship-building, and advocacy—is not ancillary to Ukraine’s struggle; it is essential to her victory. And yet Ukraine, for all her remarkable strength and unity, appears to lack diplomats: not merely in a formal sense of embassy personnel or consular staff, but in the broader meaning of citizens and leaders who see the foreigner not as a threat but as a partner.

Why does Ukraine have so few diplomats? The answer lies in a long history of occupation, a legacy of suspicion, and the unfinished journey from inward vigilance to outward confidence.

A History of Betrayal and Caution

Ukraine’s historical encounters with the outside world have too often been marked by treachery. Empires—whether Russian, Austro-Hungarian, or Soviet—claimed to bring civilisation and order, but delivered exploitation, famine and repression. The twentieth century alone saw Ukraine betrayed by allies at Munich, dismembered at Yalta, and overlooked during the early years of independence.

In such a context, suspicion became a national survival strategy. Foreigners were not necessarily welcome, even when they appeared benign. Western promises often seemed too conditional, too late or too shallow. Ukrainian society, especially outside cosmopolitan Kyiv or Lviv, developed a durable wariness toward external actors—one reinforced by repeated experiences of disappointment.

This suspicion is not paranoid. Russia’s aggression since 2014 has been accompanied by systematic subversion: bribed officials, false NGOs, fake Western journalists, and disinformation campaigns that have blurred the line between ally and enemy. The result is a pervasive caution. Who can be trusted? Why are they here? What do they want from us?

The Post-Soviet Legacy

Ukraine’s diplomatic apparatus was never fully reimagined after 1991. Unlike Poland or the Baltic states, which quickly integrated into Western institutions, Ukraine remained in a grey zone—nominally independent but structurally Soviet. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs inherited Soviet personnel, Soviet buildings and Soviet habits. The diplomatic culture remained transactional, cautious, and inward-looking.

Even today, Ukrainian diplomacy struggles with underfunding, understaffing, and sometimes undertraining. Young Ukrainians with international education often choose the private sector over government service, discouraged by bureaucracy or nepotism. Regional diplomacy—engaging the Global South or the Islamic world—remains skeletal. Ukraine’s voice is heard, but it is not always present.

And outside formal diplomacy, Ukraine’s global image is shaped by a patchwork of volunteers, journalists, and diaspora communities rather than a coordinated national strategy.

The Foreign Volunteer Dilemma

Since 2022, thousands of foreigners—from combat medics to IT specialists—have come to Ukraine to help. Many are unpaid, unarmed, and self-motivated. They sleep in cold shelters, endure air raids, and risk their lives not because they were conscripted, but because they believe in Ukraine.

And yet many encounter deep mistrust. They are questioned at checkpoints, blocked from accessing critical spaces, or viewed as opportunists. Some are accused of being spies or profiteers. Many leave disillusioned, having sacrificed much only to be met with doubt.

Part of this is understandable: Ukraine is at war, infiltrated by Russian agents, and traumatised by betrayal. But part of it reveals a deeper problem: a reluctance to accept that foreign aid does not always come with strings, and that sincere friendship from the West is not always a mask for interference.

This reluctance is not malicious—it is cultural. Ukrainians pride themselves on self-reliance, and after centuries of imperial domination, they instinctively protect their autonomy. The idea that outsiders might be trusted partners, rather than competitors or meddlers, is still difficult to embrace.

Trust as a National Asset

And yet trust is what diplomacy is made of. If Ukraine is to lead the new Europe, she must cultivate not only her national strength but her openness to others. Western volunteers are not perfect, but most are motivated by principle. They bring skills, networks, languages and stories that amplify Ukraine’s cause abroad. To treat them with suspicion is to squander a vital strategic resource.

Diplomacy is not only conducted in embassies. It happens on front lines, in hospitals, on social media, and in ordinary human encounters. Every Ukrainian who welcomes a foreigner with kindness becomes an ambassador. Every soldier who explains the war to a visiting journalist becomes a diplomat. Every mayor who partners with a European reconstruction project helps reshape Ukraine’s image in the world.

Ukraine needs more diplomats—not merely because she deserves better representation abroad, but because the war demands a broader coalition of trust. If Russia fights with isolation, Ukraine must win with connection.

A Future of Partnership

The solution is not to drop all defences. Vigilance is vital. But alongside vigilance must come a new ethic of welcome: an understanding that Ukraine’s struggle is watched, supported, and in some cases lived by people from many nations.

This requires institutional change: better training for consular officials, wider recruitment of internationally minded Ukrainians, and deeper integration of diaspora expertise. But more profoundly, it requires a change in mindset: from defensive nationalism to confident sovereignty. Ukraine has earned the right to trust herself—and in doing so, to trust others who share her fight.

The road to peace will not be paved by soldiers alone. It will require diplomats, broadly defined: bridge-builders, storytellers, negotiators, and partners. Ukraine’s capacity to inspire the world is vast. She need only believe that the world, by and large, wants her to succeed.

In that belief lies the path to a diplomacy of hope.