KRYVYI RIH, Ukraine – The call for treason came to Alexander Vilkul on the second day of the war, in a phone call from an old colleague.
Mr Vilkul, a descendant of a powerful political family in southeastern Ukraine that has long been seen as pro-Russian, accepted the call as Russian troops advanced a few miles from his hometown of Krivoy Rog.
“He said, ‘Alexander Yurich, you look at the map, you see that the situation is pre-determined,'” Mr Vilkul said, recalling a conversation with a fellow minister in the former pro-Russian Ukrainian government.
“Sign an agreement on friendship, cooperation and defense with Russia and they will have good relations with you,” said the former colleague. “In the new Ukraine you will be a great man.
The offer failed spectacularly. After the war began, Mr Vilkul said, the gray area for him had run out of Ukrainian politics. The missiles hitting his hometown made the choice obvious: he would fight back.
“I swore,” Mr Vilkul said in an interview.
Women sew camouflage uniforms in a sewing workshop in Krivoy Rog. She switched to the production of military supplies, including uniforms, bulletproof vests and medical stretchers. Credit … David Gutenfelder for The New York Times
If the first months of the war in Ukraine turned into a military failure for the Russian army – ruining the reputation of its commanders and troops in the forced withdrawal from Kyiv – the Russian invasion also highlighted another flagrant failure: Moscow’s misinterpretation of the attacking country’s policies. Wrong calculations have led to mistakes no less costly to the Russian military than the wrong tactics of tank operators heading for the swamps.
The Kremlin entered the war, expecting a quick and painless victory, predicting that President Vladimir Zelensky’s government would fall apart and that leading officials in the predominantly Russian-speaking eastern region would be happy to change countries. This did not happen.
Political short-sightedness was most significant in the eastern part of the country, political analysts say.
In all but a small number of villages, Russia has failed to turn local politicians to its side. Ukrainian authorities have opened 38 cases of treason, all targeting low-level officials in individual cases of treason.
Irina Prokopenko chooses a winter coat at the Chitalishte Arts Center, which now provides humanitarian aid to evacuees in Krivoy Rog. Credit … David Gutenfelder for The New York Times
“No one wanted to be part of this thing behind the wall,” said Konstantin Usov, a former Krivoy Rog lawmaker, given Russia’s isolated authoritarian system.
He said the system has a grim appeal in Ukraine and noted the lack of broad co-operation with Russia, including among Russians who speak Russian and share the country’s cultural values.
“We are part of something bright,” he told Ukraine. “He is here, with us, in our group. And they have nothing to offer. “
Other prominent politicians once targeting Russia, including Igor Terekhov, the mayor of Kharkov, and Henadi Trukhanov, the mayor of Odessa, also remained loyal and fierce defenders of their cities.
Along with leaders in the southeast, the Ukrainian people also resisted. Street protests against the occupation of Kherson continue despite deadly dangers for participants. A man stood in front of a tank. Miners and steel miners in Krivoy Rog have shown no signs of loyalty to Russia.
“Before the war, we had ties to Russia,” said Sergei Zhikhalov, 36, an engineer at the steel plant, referring to family, language and cultural ties. But no more, he said. “No one doubts that Russia has attacked us.
The southeastern regions of Ukraine, a vast expanse of steppes and devastated industrial and mining cities, are now the focus of war fighting.
Driving south of Kyiv, the highway leaves behind dense pine forests and reed marshes in northern Ukraine, and the landscape opens up to vast plains. Agricultural fields stretch to the horizons, in shiny, yellow flowering rapeseed or cultivated black earth.
In many ways, the region is intertwined with Soviet and Russian history. The iron and coal industries shaped southeastern Ukraine. In and around the town of Krivoy Rog there are deposits of iron ore; the coal is farther east, near the city of Donetsk.
Steel workers on the territory of the ArcelorMittal steel plant in Krivoy Rog. Credit … David Gutenfelder for The New York Times
The two mineral basins, known as Kryvbas and Donbass, gave rise to a metallurgical industry that attracted many nationalities from the tsarist and Soviet empires from the late 19th century onwards, with the Russian language becoming the lingua franca in the mining towns. The villages remain mostly Ukrainian-speaking.
For years, the region has chosen Russian-leaning politicians, such as Mr. Vilkul, a favorite villain of Ukrainian nationalists, to promote Soviet-style cultural events that have angered many Ukrainians. He organized, for example, a party in Krivoy Rog to sing Katyusha, a Russian song about the Soviet Union’s victory in World War II.
More importantly, Mr Vilkul rose to prominence under former pro-Russian President Viktor F. Yanukovych, in whose government he was deputy prime minister, until street protesters ousted Mr Yanukovych in 2014.
Much of the rest of Mr Yanukovych’s cabinet fled with him to Russia. But Mr Vilkul remained in Ukraine as de facto political leader of Krivoy Rog while his aging father was mayor of the city.
And he caught Moscow’s eye. In 2018, Mr Vilkul said in an interview that he had been told through an intermediary that “the time of chaos is over” and that he must now carry out orders from Moscow if he wants to remain in Southeast politics. He said he refused.
The Russians, he said, did not even bother to court him, but only insisted. He said Moscow had taken the same approach to other politicians in eastern Ukraine. “They didn’t even try to convince us,” he said. “They just thought we would be on their side a priori.
Workers carrying firefighting equipment are working on the maintenance of the blast furnace at the ArcelorMittal plant. Credit … David Gutenfelder for The New York Times
On the eve of the war, Mr Vilkul was most likely the political politician in Ukraine with the broadest public support. “I was alone at this level,” he said. He was also seen by Moscow as a promising potential converter for her country when it invaded Ukraine.
Mr Vilkul’s mobile phone was then called by Vitaly Zakharchenko, a Ukrainian in exile in Russia who had served as Mr Vilkul’s interior minister in Mr Yanukovych’s government. He recommended that Mr Vilkul cooperate with the Russians.
“I told him to get lost,” Mr Vilkul said. “I didn’t even think about it.”
Mr Vilkul said he was misunderstood by the Russian leadership and his nationalist opposition at home. One great-grandfather, he said, had fought white Russians in the civil war. The Vilkul family, he said, “have been fighting Russians on this land for a hundred years.”
The Kremlin, he said, had misinterpreted his respect for World War II veterans and his support for Russian-speaking rights as potential support for a renewed Russian empire, which he said was a mistake. He called the Russians “classic megalomaniacs.”
Mr Vilkul greeted children on Saturday at a school used to house evacuees. Credit … David Gutenfelder for The New York Times
“They confused common language and values such as the attitude towards the Second World War and Orthodoxy as a sign that someone loves them,” he said.
A second offer, this time made public by another Ukrainian exile, Oleh Tsarev, in a Telegram post, came about a week later when Russian troops had stepped about six miles from the city. “My fellow party members and I have always taken a pro-Russian position,” the statement said, referring to Mr Vilkul and his father, ominously adding that “cooperating with the Russian army means saving the city and lives.”
Mr. Vilkul responded with an obscene post on Facebook.
In the early days of the invasion, Mr Vilkul ordered mining companies in the region to park heavy equipment on the runway at the city’s airport, thwarting an air raid, and on approaches, slowing down tank columns. Then the tires were flat and the engines were turned off.
The city’s steel industry began producing barriers for tanks and plates for armored vests. Mr Zelenski, whose hometown is Krivoy Rog, appointed Mr Vilkul as the city’s military governor on the third day of the war, although the two were political opponents in peacetime.
Mr. Vilkul has started wearing clothes and a camouflage bandana. A parade of Ukrainian nationalists, including the leader of the Right Sector paramilitary formation, Dmytro Yarosh, and prominent activist and military officer Tetyana Chernovol, once sworn enemies of the Vilkul family, appeared in his office to shake his hand.
“If we fight the Russians,” he said, “have we ever been really pro-Russian?”
Maria Varenikova contributed to the report.
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