Ukraine Contemplates Memorials Amid Ongoing Conflict

The Evolution of War Memorials and the Challenge of Remembering Conflict

Three and a half years after Russia invaded Ukraine, there are few immediate signs of an end to the ongoing hostilities. Yet, amid the relentless fighting and frequent airstrikes, Ukrainians are already contemplating how to honor the tens of thousands of lives lost in this conflict. A spontaneous memorial made up of flags and photographs has already taken shape in Kyiv’s Independence Square, growing daily since 2022. Now, government and civil society groups are beginning discussions on how to make these acts of remembrance more permanent through the creation of monuments and memorials across the country.

As a scholar of public memory and the ways societies remember large-scale violence and mass atrocities, I study and support the work of governments and organizations developing memory sites around the world. As Ukraine navigates its own challenges, insights from research on how memorials have evolved and the roles they can play in post-violence societies can provide valuable guidance.

The Long History of Remembering War Dead

The impulse to create public monuments to remember collective death is ancient, dating back over 4,000 years. The first known war memorial was built in modern-day Syria. Obelisks and triumphal arches in ancient Egypt and Rome served similar purposes, emphasizing the grandeur and permanence of memory.

Over time, war memorials have evolved, but certain traits have remained consistent. Traditionally, they used monumental architecture to honor those who died during conflicts, often focusing on soldiers who sacrificed their lives for their country. These monuments framed soldier deaths as noble sacrifices for a higher cause, using materials like marble and granite to convey both grandeur and lasting memory.

Such memorials also served to legitimize the wars and the states that waged them, framing them as causes worthy of sacrifice. This traditional approach began to change after World War I, when the scale of destruction and loss led to more somber depictions of soldiers—often with downcast faces or tired bodies. While still honoring their bravery, these memorials reflected a growing war weariness.

In communist countries like the Soviet Union, memorials continued to celebrate the state. For example, the 335-foot-tall Mother Ukraine monument in Kyiv symbolized the sacrifices made during World War II.

Memorializing the Horrors of the 20th Century

Outside of the former Soviet Union, the horrors of World War II transformed how societies memorialized collective death. This shift was largely due to the recognition that the victims were not only soldiers but also millions of civilians, especially European Jews, murdered by the Nazi regime.

The Holocaust fundamentally changed the way the world remembers large-scale death. Traditional war memorials, which focused on glorifying the nation and its soldiers, were inadequate for remembering genocide victims. These individuals were not sacrificing themselves for national glory but were instead victims of state-sponsored violence.

As a result, memorials shifted toward abstract and immersive designs meant to evoke emotions of loss and a commitment to preventing future violence. These spaces also reflect the growing recognition of a “right to memory,” where victims demand acknowledgment of their trauma.

One influential example is the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe in Berlin, designed by Peter Eisenman. It features over 2,700 concrete columns arranged in a grid, creating an emotional experience for visitors. Similar abstract memorials can be found globally, such as the National Memorial for Peace and Justice in Montgomery, Alabama, and the Parque de la Memoria in Buenos Aires, Argentina.

Ukraine and the Challenge of Memorializing the Present

As Ukrainians begin to consider how to commemorate their recent losses, they face unique challenges. The conflict has claimed both soldiers and civilians, raising questions about whether these losses should be memorialized together or separately. Should memorials distinguish between those who died on the battlefield and those killed in atrocities, such as the Bucha massacre?

Ukraine has a history of memorializing both war and atrocity. Many of its war memorials were built during the Soviet era, often in the socialist realism style. However, it also has memorials for past atrocities, such as the Holodomor, the man-made famine under Stalin that killed millions of Ukrainians. The Memorial in Commemoration of the Holodomor-Genocide in Ukraine, opened in 2008, stands as a testament to this history.

Determining how to memorialize more recent violence, however, is complex. Memorials serve to concretize memory, but memory itself evolves over time. Communities may seek recognition of their suffering, which can be an important step in symbolic repair. Yet, with the conflict still ongoing, it is difficult to form a complete picture of what the memorial should represent.

There is also pushback within Ukraine against the current leadership and governance, adding another layer of complexity. While Ukrainians have had 75 years to reflect on the Holodomor, the uncertainty surrounding the current war makes it challenging to decide how to remember it.

The Role of Transitional Justice in Memorialization

Experts and practitioners advocate for memorialization to occur alongside other processes of dealing with histories of violence, often referred to as transitional justice. These include truth-seeking, justice, reparations, and reform. Engaging with the consequences of past violence is crucial for developing a consensus on how to remember it and educate future generations.

While these tasks are difficult to undertake during active conflict, groundwork can be laid now to prepare for future efforts. Ukrainians are eager to move forward and address the aftermath of this violence, but building a memorial alone will not end the conflict. Victims have a right to memory, but above all, they have a right to peace.

The story that public memorials tell will become clearer once the fog of war begins to lift.