My first exposure to key work done in Ukraine on the spiritual and psychological rehabilitation of veterans and families came via a recent private video.
It showed a community beneath wisps of white cloud at an undisclosed location in the Ukrainian countryside determined to repair itself.
This wasn’t just about the regeneration of the mind but something deeper—a reconstruction of spirit and place. There was a powerful oneness to Ukraine coming across in this video, a braided resilience.
Understandably, most Ukrainian news focuses on devastated frontlines, shattered cities, drones slamming malevolently into targets.
The work undertaken here taught me not to see the conflict in purely fragmentary terms, or indeed Ukraine’s veterans as somehow separable from other Ukrainians.
The viewing was followed by a webinar called Connecting and Healing: Veterans, Family and Community Integration in Ukraine, bringing together fresh Ukrainian accounts, plus additional Norwegian expertise, and the views of one US practitioner.
Responsible for both the webinar and the work behind the video is Les Simm, a remarkable Brit who has dedicated himself over the years to a number of essential causes. Simm initiated this particular work with Norwegian Elisabeth Langdal of Mental Health Human Rights Info (MHHRI), the resource database on the consequences of human rights violations on mental health.
Simm was also the last person awarded the Royal Victoria Hospital Badge after qualifying in the military as a psychiatric nurse before advancing into other major fields during a distinguished 30-year military career. Incidentally, for what it is worth, as the first ever purpose built military hospital, the Royal Victoria was inspired by Florence Nightingale’s work in Crimea.
If the goal of the webinar was to bring expertise together in the shape of psychosocial support for military personnel, veterans, and their communities, it was also to look at what can be done going forwards. ‘How do we keep the lights on?’ said Simm.
Many Ukrainian veterans never wanted to be soldiers. This is crucial to any understanding of their struggle: war was thrust upon them. Even if in the past few weeks Trump has finally acknowledged that Russia’s war on Ukraine was a ‘full-scale’ invasion—after famously blaming Zelenskyy—this makes it no easier for those Ukrainians in recovery.
The webinar also reflected on First Lady Olena Zelenska—not as a symbolic figurehead dusted off for international summits, but as a genuine driving force behind the creation of Ukraine’s National Program of Mental Health and Psychosocial Support.
Ukraine’s approach in this field is pioneering. The former Soviet model used to leave individuals to cope alone. Ukraine has turned this on its head—extraordinary care is now taken to ensure no one is left behind.
‘People, not politics,’ as Simm says, speaking for those Ukrainians whose suffering cannot be written off as mere collateral damage.
Nor is the priority to raise funds atop Everest for example but to remain on the ground where—day after day—real healing continues. In other words, there is interest here only in authentic, grounded advancement in immediate mental health.
As we know, every war—on all sides—produces innocent victims. In this light, many humanitarians fear that Russian soldiers returning from Ukraine will become a ‘lost generation’—with too few jobs in state agencies or corporations to absorb them. Ukraine wants to chart a different course.
Job organisation for veterans and communities is therefore high on the agenda—breaking down barriers to employment and ensuring a path forward with a clear understanding that any kind of healing has to be holistic.
One senior member of the Norwegian Armed Forces Veterans Centre reminded the webinar that even in Norway, negative consequences remain from as long ago as the Nazi occupation of his country, through children of injured soldiers to this day still bearing psychological scars.
The Norwegian also said veterans often avoid telling their doctors that they served—and that at least 12% of Norwegians who served in Afghanistan face mental health challenges. ‘But we look after our own,’ he added.
Make no mistake. The loss of institutional memory from the sudden closure of organisations like USAID is palpable. Despite Ukrainian lawmakers voting to ratify controversial US access to profit from Ukraine’s vast mineral resources, the Americans have largely withdrawn or begun to withdraw.
This has direct bearing on mental health and is all the more reason to listen to Michael Baskin—a former West Point graduate, holistic counsellor, even former investigator in a suicide case during the Iraq War.
Baskin, who was once part of the Ukraine Trauma Response Project, appeared to acknowledge questions over fiscal health in relation to what is still badly needed in Ukraine.
I kept returning to the video. Women nudging themselves towards recovery. People dining together. Finding the ‘okay’ within. Committing to creative tasks. Practicing yoga. The teachers were exemplary—theirs is a frontline too.
It was also useful to hear Nora Sveaass co-moderate alongside Serhiy Burov of EHRH-Chernihiv, a long-time advocate for human rights education.
Sveaass chairs the aforementioned MHHRI and is currently a member of the UN Subcommittee on Prevention of Torture. She is Professor Emeritus at the Department of Psychology, University of Oslo. This is the same august institution of Social Psychology Professor Beate, also part of the hub hosting this event.
One figure from both webinar and video was Yuriy Usovich who has worked in this field since 1994. Like the rest of the close-knit ALAHAR retreat team from the video—with special credit to Yuriy Trokhymenko—Usovich lifts spirits, shares time, provides strength—reminding us never to underestimate the power of small organisations.
Of course, much of this work depends on confidentiality. Seeking too much publicity has for obvious reasons been avoided. In addition, panelist Olga Horbanyova stressed the importance of protecting people’s dignity.
Thankfully, just as Ukraine—out of necessity—has innovated drone warfare, it does likewise with psychotherapy. Lesia Bondarenko illustrates this with admirable cheer—granted only 10 minutes to speak, she admitted she could talk for weeks on the subject.
Even if there are many Ukrainians in this field, the retreats still need funding, and money is scarce. One phrase resonated strongly regards this type of work: ‘to see the invisible.’
This includes Ukraine’s multi-modal approach to POWs and civilians. In fact, Ukraine is the only country with clinical case managers dedicated to treating patients right the way through.
I watched the video one more time. It was on the day the body of Ukrainian journalist Viktoria Roshchyna was returned missing both eyes and brain after vanishing in 2023 in an unofficial Rostov detention center in Russia.
‘Russians are hardly even trying to hide what they did to her,’ said an impassioned Sam Kiley of The Independent recently. ‘That’s why the investigation, conducted by 50 journalists from six countries, matters so much.’
As I write, a private contact shares fresh word with me of an attack somewhere else entirely, near Damascus—in the Ashrafieh Sahnaya area—targeting the Druze community, close to where Paul the Apostle hid.
It was sparked by a fabricated AI-generated audio of a Druze man cursing the Prophet Mohammed. The attackers live-streamed their violence. Swords and guns. House-to-house killings and abductions.
This, too, I had to acknowledge to myself, will become profound trauma.
And so I doff my hat to all those who, against all the odds, wherever they are in the world, do this quiet but essential work of connecting and healing.
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