Forced Displacement from War-Torn Territories in Ukraine
While geopolitically, the current crisis in Ukraine is near the top of the international policy agenda, the lived experience of those displaced by the conflict receives much less attention. The armed conflict in eastern Ukraine was followed by the displacement of more than two million people: approximately 1.4 million internally and more than 1.3 million to other countries, including over a million to Russia (UNHCR 2016; UNHCR 2019; Kuznetsova Reference Kuznetsova2020). While the conflict’s nature and socio-political origins are well represented in academic discourse (cf. Kuzio Reference Kuzio2015; Sakwa Reference Sakwa2014; Wilson Reference Wilson2016; Yekelchyk Reference Yekelchyk2015; Malyarenko and Wolff Reference Malyarenko and Wolff2018) there is a noticeable absence of discussion on policies towards internally displaced people (IDPs) and the impact that the conflict has on their everyday lives. Furthermore, in state thinking, IDPs are constructed as a homogenous group, rather than a diverse range of people who face differing issues and who have a wide range of needs. Employing an intersectional approach, this article reveals the discourse used by the state, purposefully or not, to exacerbate the marginalization of many IDPs, especially the elderly, who make up a disproportionately large share of this group in the Ukrainian controlled territories of Donetsk and Luhansk oblasts (UNHCR 2019).
Given that the number of internally forcibly displaced people is growing every year across the globe, and exceeds the number of refugees, internal displacement has received a special status in the international agenda in the last 20 years with the adoption of the UN Guiding Principles on Internal Displacement in 1998 (OCHA 2004). Principle 1 states, “Internally displaced persons shall enjoy, in full equality, the same rights and freedoms under international and domestic law as do other persons in their country.” For Ukraine, the mass forced population displacement due to the conflict, alongside the concurrent economic decline and political crisis, was a tremendous shock. This shock partly explained the delay of urgent actions needed to address the humanitarian needs of IDPs. At the same time, IDPs became increasingly dependent on the authorities’ discourse and relations between the national government and non-government-controlled territories. For example, they have to pass through exhausting long queues at checkpoints to move from non-government-controlled areas (NGCA) to government-controlled areas (GCA) (United Nations Ukraine 2019a); their mental health is compromised as a result of war and displacement (see Makhashvili et al. Reference Makhashvili, Jana Javakhishvili and Roberts2017); and they have to register as IDPs to receive their pension and be employed, which limits their access to many rights (Bulakh Reference Bulakh2017; Kuznetsova et al. Reference Kuznetsova, Mikheieva, Gulyieva, Dragneva and Mykhnenko2018). In 2017, over half a million people’s pensions were suspended, and in addition, IDPs in Ukraine were not able to vote in local elections (Woroniecka-Krzyzanowska and Palaguta Reference Woroniecka-Krzyzanowska and Palaguta2017; Durnyeva, Jepsen, and Roberts Reference Tatiana, Jepsen and Hannah2019) till changes in legislation in December 2019 (Humanitarian Response 2019). From this perspective, the situation of IDPs in Ukraine echoes the way that forced internal displacement might be understood in Sri Lanka, Colombia, and Indonesia, as well as in other countries which deal with the issues of IDPs’ access to citizenship rights and marginalization. For example, the Indonesian policy of ‘labelling’ displaced people as IDPs exacerbated tensions with host communities (Duncan Reference Duncan2005). Tamil women in Sri Lanka found themselves in a controversial discourse of “fighters, victims, or survivors” (Schrijvers Reference Schrijvers1999). IDP status in Sri Lanka also separates displaced people from other citizens, which in many cases restricts their rights (Brun Reference Brun2003). Likewise, the status of IDPs in the former Yugoslav space may be described via the prism of ‘uneven citizenship,’ the result of which may be an internally divided society and state, in which various groups enjoy different degrees of rights and privileges (Krasniqi and Stjepanović Reference Krasniqi and Stjepanović2015). Very often, elderly and female IDPs become marginalized and must support themselves with survival tactics as Rekhviashvili’s (Reference Rekhviashvili2012) research on Georgia shows. In Colombia, the people affected by the protracted displacement were ‘banalised’ by the government, which was unable to protect IDPs and recognize their rights; this situation has been contested by the civil society and the Constitutional Court (Oslender Reference Oslender2016).
Pensioners, in comparison with the Ukraine’s general population, constitute a disproportionally large share of IDPs (UNHCR 2020). While international think tanks, international development organizations, and charities note that often the situation of elderly, women, and children IDPs is the most critical (see Ferris et al. Reference Ferris, Mamutov, Moroz and Vynogradova2015; UNHCR 2016; HelpAge International 2018), academic discourse rarely addresses the issues that these groups face. This is especially true in relation to the situation in Ukraine. A search of the literature in Scopus on published academic works on Ukraine between 2014 to 2018, using the key words “security,” “nationalism,” “gender,” “elderly,” and “disability” (within Social Sciences, Arts and Humanities), revealed that much of the literature concerns security (449 results) and nationalism (105 results), rather than gender (73), disability (8), and age (2).Footnote 1 One might suggest that the prevalence of security and ethnonationalist approaches in academic research on contemporary Ukraine could explain why there still has been little discussion of the age, gender and disability aspects of displacement and policies towards IDPs. At the same time, research has demonstrated that displacement and war has a significant intersectional impact. A survey of female IDPs and non-IDPs across Ukraine in 2016 demonstrated the high vulnerability of displaced women in terms of employment and income opportunities: for example, the average salary for displaced women was half that of non-IDP women, and unemployment rates were two times higher (45.1% for IDP women) (Gerasimenko Reference Gerasimenko2016). In addition, the health of mother and child IDPs in Ukraine is compromised because of the long-term structural issues of the country’s health care system, such as the need to make informal payments in order to receive treatment, and the difficulties that IDPs face in registering to receive health care (Nidzvetska et al. Reference Nidzvetska, Rodriguez-Llanes, Aujoulat, Cuesta, Tappis, van Loenhout and Guha-Sapir2017). These issues are compounded by low income levels, meaning that many endure a poor diet and lack any form of ‘safety net.’ Furthermore, based on a national survey of IDPs, a high level of post-traumatic stress disorder and anxiety among forcibly displaced people was noted, along with the fact that among women and the elderly, there are significant increases in levels of mental health issues (Makhashvili et al. Reference Makhashvili, Jana Javakhishvili and Roberts2017). Women have to use different tactics living in occupied territories, and they simply “do not fit in the ideological framework or division of ‘us’ and ‘others,’ and have been forced to completely revise the configuration of Ukrainian society both in the territorial sense and in the socio-cultural context” (Mikheieva Reference Mikheieva2015, 9). Therefore, understanding the social consequences of war is vitally important beyond the ethnonational framework. This echoes a growing body of literature that moves theories and methods away from an ethnonationalist approach (see Meissener and Vertovec Reference Meissner and Vertovec2015; Grzymala-Kazlowska and Phillimore Reference Grzymala-Kazlowska and Phillimore2018).
Drawing on intersectionality (Crenshaw Reference Crenshaw1991; Anthias and Yuval-Davis Reference Anthias and Yuval-Davis1983), power geometry (Massey Reference Massey2009) and modalities of borders (Paasi Reference Paasi, Johnson, Schein and Winders2013), this article argues that political rhetoric towards IDPs in a context of protracted conflict contributes to the construction of a space which is divided between the IDPs, people who reside in non-government controlled territories, and the general population. It bases this argument on an analysis of both political rhetoric towards IDPs and the experiences of elderly displaced people.
To date, the academic literature has made little attempt to examine the intersectional experiences of IDPs within power geometries. This article aims to advance an understanding of the impact of armed conflict and forced displacement on the intersectional experiences of IDPs, as well as their coping tactics and agencies. It demonstrates that in Ukraine, the state constructs all IDPs in the same way, despite the multiple experiences of IDPs and their specific needs, depending on their gender, age, health and other characteristics. Moreover, the state is ‘othering’ them, increasing their risk of marginalization and social exclusion that is aggravated by the social-economic context.
Intersectionality, Forced Displacement, and Power Geometry
Intersectionality, originating within anti-racist feminism (Anthias and Yuval-Davis Reference Anthias and Yuval-Davis1983; Crenshaw Reference Crenshaw1991; Nash Reference Nash2008), has been used in the social sciences to address the relationship between different social categories, such as gender, race, age, sexuality, ability and others. As McCall (Reference McCall2005) stressed, “Interest in intersectionality arose out of a critique of gender-based and race-based research for failing to account for lived experience at neglected points of intersection—ones that tended to reflect multiple subordinate locations as opposed to dominant or mixed locations” (1780). Despite the fact that most of the research within intersectionality concerns gender and race, a considerable amount of literature has been published on the geographies of age (Hopkins and Pain Reference Hopkins and Pain2007; Pain and Hopkins, Reference Pain, Hopkins, Smith, Pain, Marston and Jones III2010) and disability (Lister Reference Lister2007; Erevelles and Minear Reference Erevelles and Minear2010). An intersectional approach has also increasingly been employed to help understand ethnic diversity and inequality as determinants of health and services access (see, for example, Green et al. Reference Green, Davison, Bradby, Krause, Mejías and Alex2014; Hankivsky and Christoffersen Reference Hankivsky and Christoffersen2008), and as a tool for exploring mental health among migrants (Tang and Pilgrim Reference Tang and Pilgrim2017). Bastia (Reference Bastia2014), providing an overview of intersectionality’s role in migration studies, highlighted that it has “greatly contributed to visibilizing the interconnected and constitutive nature of multiple forms of oppression … in migration processes” (238).
Some authors have criticized intersectionality for its narrow focus on North America and Europe, which cannot tackle gender and class in broader contexts, especially in relation to the Global South (see, for example Amelina and Lutz Reference Amelina and Lutz2019; Bastia Reference Bastia2014). While, conceptually, it is difficult to regard Ukraine as either the Global North nor the South (see Müller Reference Müller2018), we argue that an intersectional lens is very valuable for critically exploring inequalities caused by forced displacement and how state policies towards this group exacerbate the situation.
The multiple oppressions within the intersectional approach, according to Collins (Reference Collins1990, 276), are interlocked via a “matrix of domination” which comprises structural, disciplinary, hegemonic, and interpersonal power relations. In our research, we focus mainly on structural and disciplinary aspects of the power relations that we capture via interviews with IDPs, non-governmental organizations (NGOs), and local level officials, as well as analyses of interviews and statements of public officials.
The emergency character of state policy towards the mass population displacement from war-torn territories implies the importance of focusing on spatial and temporal aspects of both lived experiences and policies. Following Anthias (Reference Anthias2013), we admit that the combination of a translocational lens and intersectionality “enables the understanding of contradictory social locations and therefore the intersection between privilege and disadvantage,” which also provides significance to the broader social context and temporality. For analysis of how political discourses regarding IDPs impact their lived experiences, we engage with Massey’s (Reference Massey2009, 19) notion of “power geometry,” which enables us to “capture both the fact that space is imbued with power and the fact that power in its turn has a spatiality.” This geometry has a relational (space) component “exercised in interaction with other places” (19), and a component of time and temporality as space is always “under construction.”
In Ukraine, where Crimea and some parts of Donetsk and Luhansk oblasts became NGCA in 2014, the terms of temporality and construction of space have a direct meaning, as several checkpoints control the mobility of people and goods between NGCAFootnote 2 and GCA of Ukraine. The status of IDPs is dependant on the former residency of people who resided in NGCA but also on complex bureaucratic procedures which should confirm that status. Thus, we consider IDPs as a group in the same way as Massey, seeing this space as one with power relations, related to those “who are also doing a lot of physical moving, but who are not ‘in charge’ of the process in the same way at all” (Reference Massey1994, 149).
Recent debates about borders consider them as beyond territories (Sassen Reference Sassen2013; Jones and Johnson Reference Jones and Johnson2016; Cassidy, Yuval-Davis, and Wemyss Reference Cassidy, Yuval-Davis and Wemyss2018). In this context, we find it useful to engage with modalities of technical landscapes of social control and discursive landscapes of social power (Paasi Reference Paasi2009, Reference Paasi, Johnson, Schein and Winders2013). Technical landscapes of social control (Paasi Reference Paasi2009, Reference Paasi, Johnson, Schein and Winders2013), manifesting in databanking, digital surveillance, biometric identity technologies, and digital surveillance (Paasi Reference Paasi, Johnson, Schein and Winders2013; Dijstelbloem and Broeders Reference Dijstelbloem and Broeders2015), are significant parts of borders today. In a context of internal displacement, we analyze how processes or registration and verification impact the everyday life of IDPs, and how different social groups of the displaced try to be ‘visible’ or ‘invisible.’
Discursive landscapes of social power include such various components as material landscapes, national commemorations, and media (Paasi Reference Paasi, Johnson, Schein and Winders2013); these serve as emotional landscapes of control (Paasi Reference Paasi2009). In our research, we will focus on one aspect of it, studying how the politics towards pensioners from Donbas is embedded in the media via official interviews and statements of politicians. The special role of discourse we understand from Müller as not just language, but also as language and practice (Reference Müller2008). Therefore, addressing authorities’ stance towards pensions of IDPs represented in the media enables us to tackle social-space dialectic including ‘representation of space’ and ‘space of representation’ (Lefebvre Reference Lefebvre1991).
The article argues that without seeing the specific needs formed by the intersections of age and displacement, and understanding how many are denied their rights, not only will particular groups of IDPs continue to endure extreme marginalization but, overall, further efforts for reconciliation and social cohesion will continue to be very problematic. To explore this in depth, after describing its methodology, the article addresses state policies toward IDPs with an emphasis on how IDPs verify their status and register in their new location. Then, considering that more than half a million pensioners in Ukraine have not received their pensions due to being under government suspicion of supporting the regime in NGCA, the political discourses regarding pensions and the everyday experiences of elderly men and women are analyzed. We argue that Ukrainian citizens moving from NGCA become internally displaced people, not only because they cross checkpoints, but because of the peculiarities of space construction and modalities of borders, manifested both in discursive landscapes of social power and technical landscapes of social control.
Methodology
The research upon which this article is based was conducted in Ukraine in 2017–2018, and included interviews with displaced people, local and national authorities, NGOs and desk research. It also included critical discourse analysis (Wodak and Reisigl Reference Wodak and Reisigl2001) of authorities’ position towards pensioners, as evidenced by interviews and statements in on-line mass media and Facebook pages of state officials between May 2014 and July 2019. As it was highlighted by Valentine regarding intersectional analysis, “attention to lived experience […] offers an important potential tool for feminist geography to understand the intimate connections between the production of space and the systematic production of power, thereby increasing its effectiveness to develop and employ its critical insights within and beyond the academy (Reference Valentine2007, 19).” Therefore, open-ended interviewing was chosen, as it provides the informant with an opportunity to reflect on her or his experience: we were able to understand how relations with power institutions and civil society were formed, and what the main fears and experiences of the displaced were/are. Interviews were conducted in Ukrainian and/or Russian depending on the preferences of respondents. Beginning the interviews three to four years after the inception of the armed conflict allowed for reflection on changes in the situation of IDPs, as well as evaluation of the social consequences of the recent changes in legislation regarding displaced people in Ukraine. In-depth and semi-structured interviews were conducted with IDPs (n = 104) in the Lviv, Kyiv, Chernihiv, Kharkiv, Dnipro, and Zaporizhia regions, and Mariupol, including 15 people 55–64 years old, eight people older than 64 years old, 41 men and 63 women. The interviews were also collected with representatives of NGOs, international organizations, and central and municipal authorities (n = 25). These regions were chosen because the majority of IDPs live there, and informants were representative in terms of gender and age, considering that the demographic characteristic of IDPs are different from the general population with a bigger share of pensioners. Not only persons with the official status of IDPs were selected for an interview, but also those who fled but were not registered as an IDP. Additionally, two focus groups with IDPs from Chernhiv, Zhitomir and Sumi oblasts were conducted in Chernihiv in 2017 (12 and 9 people). The snowball technique was used to select informants among IDPs as this method is widely used in studying confidential topics or hidden communities; each time a person (selected via groups in social media, NGOs of social networks) gave multiple referrals, and only one new subject was recruited among them (Atkinson and Flint Reference Atkinson and Flint2001). In this article, we focus on the experiences of IDPs who have fled from war in Donbas. The interviews with displaced people were anonymous and conducted so as to minimize risks of disclosure of personal information. The questions were designed primarily to reveal the everyday experiences of people after displacement, with the interviews starting by exploring the informants’ narratives before moving on to more open-ended questions.
Borders of Social Control: State Policies Towards Registrations and Verifications of IDPs
It is widely recognized in the academic literature that the securitization discourse towards migrants is rising across the globe. Ideas of “chaos” and “crisis” are often put forward by the state as justification for the continuing securitization of migration policy, part of “geographical assertions of sovereign power” (Mountz and Hiemstra Reference Mountz and Hiemstra2014, 383). As Allen et al. (Reference Allen, Anderson, Hear, Sumption, Düvell, Hough, Rose, Humphries and Walker2018, 218) note, “categorisation is central to efforts to govern migrants and refugees,” and it has “wider geopolitical implications for our understanding of nations, states and citizens” (221). The process of categorization and registration of migrants in Russia, for example, intersects with racism and discrimination (see Kuznetsova and Round Reference Kuznetsova and Round2019). What has not been addressed before is how the state categorization of internally displaced people impacts their everyday life.
The status of internally displaced persons who fled from the war-torn territories in Donbas and annexed Crimea quickly became an issue of international concern with the UN Refugee Agency, the International Organization for Migration, the European Commission, the Norwegian Refugee Council, and other international organizations who tried to provide support. The status of IDP is necessary for all displaced people who are going to engage with any kind of formal relationship with a state—including accessing health care, pensions, employment, and education. The Ukrainian authorities verify identity and place of residence in the GCA of those IDPs who receive benefits or pensions every six months. After several trials initiated by NGOs, identity verification rarely takes place at the place of residence of IDPs, instead, within one to two days of their arrival in a municipality, they are asked to come to the Department of Social Protection. For many of our respondents this process was not only inconvenient, and forced them to lose a day or more of work, but also demonstrated the government’s distrust towards IDPs. For example, one elderly woman who works informally and hardly makes ends meet, stressed,
…they said: we will be checking, you have to sit at home. But it is very inconvenient, if they call and say you must be at home for three days. For example, I am very pleased when I was asked to distribute leaflets; it is some income for me. I ask if I can come to social services by myself, and they say – ‘no, you cannot – maybe you lie, and you go to Donetsk area.’ This is very hard. It means they do not believe us. They think that we travel backwards and forwards.
(IDP from Horlivka, female, 71 years old, lives in Kharkiv)According to most of our respondents, this process of verification is very frustrating, although checks have been cancelled for some categories of IDPs, and since 2016 it has been possible to verify identity at branches of Osсhadbank.Footnote 3 Nevertheless, interviews revealed that checks on the place of residence still exist, even for those whose ID was verified via the bank. Informants from advocates for IDPs’ rights mentioned that the current law makes it prone to misinterpretations, and the research revealed that municipalities and other official institutions very often interpret regulations in a way that makes verifications more difficult than legal requirements, so IDPs suffer from so-called street-bureaucracy (Lipsky Reference Lipsky2010). Another step which IDPs have to take in order to be fully documented is to obtain registration for their new place of residence. In 2001, the Constitutional Court of Ukraine recognized that the overall system of registration of the place of residence was a violation of human rights. The former Soviet approach to registration (“propiska”) was therefore replaced with a more simplified system of registration for citizens with their place of residence (Vіdomostі Verhovnoї Radi Ukraїni 2004); however, this did not change the system that provides the majority of public services to citizens on a territorial basis. Recent reforms in 2016 did not resolve the problem of binding a person to the address registered in his/her passport. The registration with a place of residence becomes a problem when a person needs to use public services in a different location, e.g. pension payments, registering with tax authorities, etc. (see also, Kuznetsova et al. Reference Kuznetsova, Mikheieva, Gulyieva, Dragneva and Mykhnenko2018). Many of the informants found the process of registering and receiving a document indicating their IDP status as a compulsory attachment to their passport very unfair:
Anyway, as a person who is Ukrainian, why do I need to register? I have a passport stating that I am a Ukrainian citizen. Why do I need to have a separate registration?! (…) The state just wants to think that if I am IDP I am homeless (…) I am not going to live with a document of an IDP. I want to live freely.
(IDP from Donetsk, male, 42 years old, lives in Lviv)Belonging to Ukraine is essential for most of our respondents, and these feelings echo Sasse and Lackner’s (Reference Sasse and Lackner2018) results, which suggest that “Ukrainian citizenship is (and was) by far the most prevalent self-reported identity in the Kyiv-controlled Donbas and among the IDPs” (153). Therefore, informants feel disillusioned with the necessity to have the additional status of IDPs. Some displaced people, however, refuse to receive a document denoting their IDP status. Ivankova-Stetsuk and Seleschuk (Reference Ivankova-Stetsuk and Seleshuk2017, 31–32) recognize the choice to be “invisible” is a strategy of “assimilation.” However, it is argued here that this strategy does not necessary indicate ‘assimilation’ but rather reveals why some categories of the population choose be “invisible.” For example, while pensioners must receive an IDP status to be able to receive their pensions, young people working informally do so without the need for registration. This difference in needs partly explains the disproportion of elderly people in the statistics of IDPs in Ukraine.
Young men are often under suspicion of assisting a regime in NGCA, and according to some of our informants, this fear represents a big barrier when it comes to communication and even employment, which leads them to choose the “invisible” status. The research revealed that a stamp in an internal passport with a registration in a territory which is currently not under the control of the government (Donetsk, for example), makes displaced people “visible” and more prone to different types of “othering” from official institutions as(e.g., banks and employers). For example, one of our informants was unable to receive a money transfer with just a passport, as the bank demanded a document of IDP after a member of staff saw the stamp in his passport.
In addition to the benefits of access to constitutional rights, such as health care, pensions, and education, IDP status provides financial support. However, at 442 Hrivna for adults (approximately 17 USD) (Legislation of Ukraine 2017) and 1000 for children and pensionersFootnote 4 per month it is below the minimum wage in Ukraine and would not be nearly enough to rent an apartment. Moreover, to receive this benefit, an adult of working age should be in formal employment within two months of registering as an IDP (Legislation of Ukraine 2017). As one informant argued,
How can we call this 400 Hrivna “support”? For this we have to degrade ourselves and go to all these institutions. We made some attempts but to have to go every half year and tell them where you work, it is not worth it. And now we do not receive any financial support at all, in spite of the fact that legally and constitutionally we should.
(IDP from Donetsk, male, 27 years old, lives in Kyiv)In many cases, registration is very difficult to obtain, with delays being commonplace. Those IDPs who lost their passports cannot be registered, and the issuing of new passports is very difficult. As the liaison officer in Kyiv oblast said in interview during our research in 2017, “In 2014 there was a loyal policy towards documenting, but then perhaps there were some abuse and even statements of some officials that combatants from separatists move and receive Ukrainian passports” (implying that some people want to change their names to escape justice). Non-registered status, which interviewees note can last from several months to several years, excludes people from the formal labor market, pensions, and social security. It also causes difficulties in finding suitable accommodation, as despite the fact that most of the rental market is informal, landlords still check tenants’ passports. Respondents often mentioned the officials’ negative attitudes towards them. Many benefits can only be received after registration as an IDP if a person came from an NGCA: this is the case for not only pensions, but also benefits for people with disabilities, single parents, and parents with many children. Such requirements put many people at further risk, considering that the situation of displacement is stressful in itself. This all has a massive impact on the everyday life of forcibly displaced people regarding their access to social and political rights. This situation, combined with negative rhetoric from politicians, makes their further social integration very difficult.
The language which Ukraine’s authorities use toward IDPs suggests a static status that excludes the displaced population which still resides in NGCA. Furthermore, if some IDPs travel to NGCA and do not return within 60 days, they automatically lose their IDP status and pension rights as well. The recent Donbas reintegration law adopted in January 2018 mentions hostages in occupied territories, but does not refer in detail to those who initially had to flee from NGCA but were then, in practice, forced to return, because of the difficulties of coping without accommodation, a job, and/or a pension.
As Anthias (Reference Anthias2012) argues “groups are treated as homogeneous categories of people with particular and given characteristics (e.g., groups relating to women or ethnic groups are defined as having particular needs, predispositions and strategies),” which in regard to migration is often reduced to the idea that migrants “belong to ethnic groups and they bring with them given predispositions” (104). With regard to IDPs in Ukraine, we observe that the state reduces them into one broad category of “internally displaced people,” expecting them to have similar issues to one another. Therefore, interactions with the state do not start with an evaluation of urgent needs, but with the procedures which aim to identify the legal status of a displaced person. In terms of the power geometry, the authorities shape space in such terms that they try to support order in conditions of uncertainty and protracted conflict. The system of registration and verification of IDPs’ identity is part of what Massey (Reference Massey2009, 81) identified—“the spatial has both an element of order and an element of chaos.” As she stated, “Seeing space as a moment in the intersection of configured social relations (rather than as an absolute dimension) means that it cannot be seen as static. There is no choice between flow (time) and a flat surface of instantaneous relations (space)” (81). Moreover, if some of the IDPs actively resist classification avoiding their IDPs status, some of the displaced who lack resources are dependent on how the state will interpret their status. The pension policy is the most explicit example of the power geometry involving IDPs.
Ukraine’s Pensioners Within Discursive Landscapes of Social Power
Constituting over half of all registered IDPsFootnote 5 , the elderly are often the most marginalized due to problems in obtaining their pensions, the lack of affordable accommodation, financial difficulties which make them unable to pay for medical services, and limited opportunities in the labor market. Those pensioners who still reside in NGCA must cross the line of control every two months in order to receive their pensions, both risking their lives and being subjected to humiliation in queues while waiting many hours to cross the “border.” As the United Nations in Ukraine (2019b) notes, due to this process, the number of persons from NGCA receiving pensions dropped dramatically from 956,000 in January 2016 to 755,800 in April 2017 and 562,000 in December 2018.
Furthermore, pension payments have also been suspended for many retired people residing in the GCA because of frequent mistakes in the verification system which erroneously showed that a person no longer lives in the GCA. In addition, pensions for retired people, benefits for single mothers and for other categories of IDPs are often suspended for six months if a person is not at home at the moment of verification. Many people with disabilities who depend on benefits found themselves included in lists of the IDPs for whom benefits and pensions were suspended, because of the lack of evidence of them living in the GCA, including residents of “Svyati Gori”—a care home where some of the IDPs with severe disabilities reside and have never left since moving from the occupied territories (Rights to Protection 2017).
However, the permanent registration of residency does not resolve all of the issues, because even those IDPs who obtained a property in GCA still have to be registered as IDPs to receive pensions. Therefore, there are two categories of pensioners in Ukraine, IDPs and non-IDPs, and the former risks of suspension and errors in pension payments. Currently, there are debates about the simplification of procedures for receiving pensions by the IDPs and people from NGCAs (Obukh Reference Obukh2018), as well as a draft law (Liga-Zakon 2019), but there are no mechanisms in place as of yet.
According to the Law of Ukraine “On the peculiarities of State policy on ensuring Ukraine’s State sovereignty over temporarily occupied territories in Donetsk and Luhansk regions,” the so-called Donetsk and Luhansk People’s Republics are stated as Russian-occupied territories in Donetsk and Luhansk Oblast. Until 2018 in Ukraine, at the official level, the armed conflict in the eastern part of Ukraine was not called a war with Russia, but rather an anti-terrorist operation (ATO) (see also Taradai Reference Taradai2019). This largely gave rise to the ambiguity of definitions, in which the state recognizes the IDPs as victims and pays benefits, while the rhetoric of terrorism adds towards the ambiguous attitudes regarding the IDPs in society.
Official statements around the pension issue clearly indicate how those who fled from war-torn areas or still reside there are perceived. The former Minister for Social Policy at the time, Ludmila Denysova, said at the beginning of the conflict:
I will explain why today there was a need to keep account of internally displaced persons: because there was now such phenomenon as “pension tourism” – that is, people just leave, receive pensions outside this region, and then come back, and we don’t know who these people are, why they come back to the anti-terrorist operation zone, and in what events they are involved.
(UNIAN 2014)Furthering this line of thought, Dmytro Snegirev, from the civil movement Pravoe Delo, supported the idea of verification of IDPs, arguing that “Donbas-based terrorists” are sponsored by pensioners: “It is no secret that it is one of the sources of financing of illegal groups: when a person in the occupied territory collects the cards of pensioners, removes cash there and comes to our territory” (Tkachuk Reference Tkachuk2017). Though pensioners were not called “terrorists” directly, the authorities’ discourse towards pensions for IDPs always included references to the war and terrorists. Ukraine’s Deputy Prime Minister, Pavlo Rozenko, stated in 2016 that the aim of “establishing order in social payments and fight against leakage of the budgetary and pension funds for occupied territories which we have begun together with the SSU [Security Service of Ukraine] [would] continue.” He then gave assurances that “all pensions and social benefits to real displaced [would] be conducted in time and in full,” and “any kopek from the State budget of Ukraine or from the Pension Fund [would not] get to the pockets of terrorists” (Government Portal 2016). As was mentioned above, these measures cost the suspension of pensions of many IDPs, even of those who had not visited NGCA.
In April 2019, Mr. Andriy Reva, the Minister of Social Policy, called pensioners who reside in NGCA “scums,” saying in his interview to the BBC, “Everyone who was pro-Ukrainian has left. And those who want to claim pensions on both sides have to put up with it. Honestly, I don’t feel pity for them, not one of them, at all. I feel pity for those soldiers and officers, and for their families. They were killed there because of those scums” (Malinka Reference Malinka2019). After massive criticism from Ukraine’s civil society, Reva claimed that the journalist had deliberately misused his words, and emphasized that “[…] I used to think and still think that it is the Government’s duty to assist residents of the occupied territories in obtaining social benefits, including pensions,” but then stressed again that “I believe that those citizens of Ukraine who are fighting with arms in their hands against their own country, killing our soldiers and officers, paying pensions is unacceptable” (Reva Reference Reva2019).Footnote 6 Because of the ambivalence of his interview and the following reaction, the local news ran a headline “Kyiv Court to Consider Criminal Proceedings Against Ukraine’s Social Minister” (Hromadske 2019). This again demonstrates how the state’s discourse links pensioners with the situation in the occupied territories. There is no guarantee or a recipe for how to be a “real” IDP; as previously mentioned, even those who did not visit NGCA after displacement could find themselves on an SSU list for pension suspension. The restrictions imposed also call into question the right of citizens for free movement as emphasized by the Human Rights Watch (2018).
In contrast, some informants believe that the situation of pension suspension should not be viewed via such an ideological lens, but rather as an instrument which the government uses to save money:
Possibly, this is because they have seen a hole in a budget of pension funds and started to think how to save money, and unlawfully created lists of Security Services of Ukraine, and stopped payments for half a million of citizens simultaneously. …Well, I hope it is not ideological, but just a ‘dry calculation’
(interview with a representative of an NGO, February 2018, Kyiv).To try to alleviate the problem of suspension of pensions, Draft Law No. 6692, drawn up by Rights for Protection, Donbas SOS, UNHCR, and other international and local organizations, as well as various MPs, was submitted to parliament on July 12, 2017. However, despite the issue’s urgency, at the time of this article’s writing 18 months later, it has still not had its first reading. The law aims to decouple pension payments from IDP status and place of residence, thus ensuring that the right to a pension is guaranteed irrespective of place of residence. The law also aims to reduce verification procedures and cancel the restrictions on receiving an unclaimed pension to just three years for this category of persons.
The stigma of “pension tourists” and “social benefits tourists,” transmitted by public officials via the mass media, exacerbates the negative image of displaced people and those who live in NGCA, stymieing the processes of social cohesion and reconciliation. Beginning to recognize this, the Ministry for the Temporary Occupied Territories and IDPs (2018) adopted a “Strategy of the Integration of Internally Displaced Persons and Implementing Long-term Solutions to Internal Displacement” until 2020.
Even so, the strategy did provide a mechanism for de-linking pensions from IDP status. However, on September 4, 2018, The Grand Chamber of the Supreme Court of Ukraine upheld a landmark judgement to satisfy the claims of an internally displaced person from the Donetsk region whose pension has been suspended since April 2017. As highlighted by UNHCR (2018), it is expected that this decision “will result in simplified procedures that enable IDPs and other conflict-affected people to receive their pensions consistently and predictably like other citizens of Ukraine.” Overall, the pension situation, together with the other constraints endured by IDPs, have significant impacts on the everyday experiences of the elderly, with some returning to the conflict zone or coping with extreme economic marginalization. Moreover, this situation contributes to the construction of fractured space within the government controlled territories, bringing the war-lexicon into the discourse surrounding IDPs.
The Lived Experiences of Elderly IDPs: Issues with Pensions, Accommodation, Employment and Forced Return
The research detailed above revealed the impact of gender and age bias in Ukraine’s labor market, which creates barriers for employment, not only for retired women but also for those over 50 who are not yet at retirement age. At the same time, men face other issues such as the common stigma of “undeserved pensioner” and difficulties around the loss of status of “breadwinner,” which together with health issues create intersectional spaces for deep feelings of disadvantage. An additional issue facing both women and men is the mismatching of skills and qualifications to vacancies that are available to them. Part-time work and working from home, the research found, are not options commonly available in the official bureau for employment, and often IDPs have to work in the informal labor market which is very common in Ukraine (see Williams and Round Reference Williams and Round2007). One of the respondents in Dnipro, a 69-year-old lady with higher education who used to work in the creative sector before the displacement, provided the following comments “And now I work. Some kind of part-time. I have children, I have to earn. I do not refuse to do anything: to clean, to nurse or to trade [in a market]. Any job, if only I could work and receive some money.” At the same time, the opportunities for working in the informal economy are very limited; some of the IDPs are away from their supportive social networks and routine practices. For instance, IDPs are away from gardens and allotments and so-called datcha which are a very common source of self-provision in Ukraine. Displacement has deprived people of such resources. The research presented here confirms that elderly women are in the most vulnerable position because of the “triple” pressures arising from displacement. They face the challenge of finding suitable employment in pre- or post-retirement age, and the pressure of the continued role of caregiver which echoes with the social construction of the elderly in Ukrainian society who are associated with providers of care and support for younger members of family (see Solari Reference Solari2017). In addition, there is the stigma from the government that they might not be “real” IDPs and therefore are not eligible to receive their pensions.
Even being able to receive a pension does not solve many problems, as its amount is still too low to rent suitable accommodations. As a result, people become dependent on their children (if they have any) or must live in temporary accommodations provided by charities; however, after three years, many of them (as one in Dnipro for example) are about to be closed down. As one of the female respondents of pre-pension age stressed:
You cannot integrate into society without housing. You always live with suitcases. So we keep everything that we do not use in boxes and then it is easier to move and find other accommodation. Owners always look and if they feel you have stability they put the price of the rent up. You are always with suitcases and always have to think what to do tomorrow. Which plans could you make? Nothing really when you do not have any stability. When you are young you can live in rented flats. But when you are elderly – and touchwood will not get sick – which landlord would keep you in a flat? It is very frustrating.
(IDP from Luhansk oblast, female, 58 years old, lives in Kharkiv)Accommodation is a major problem for IDPs. Dormitories provided by the state for IDPs were not able to accommodate everyone in need. Furthermore, some IDPs have been asked to leave their accommodations, and rental prices have increased. In Kyiv, residents of a dormitory for IDPs held a hunger strike near the USA embassy as a protest about paying a tourist fee and utilities bills (Hromadske 2017). Some of the dormitories are still under construction, and often the location is far from available work. For example, the new dormitory in Kirovohrad oblast does not have many IDPs because of its undesirable location–it is remote and there is little nearby work. In many cases, the decisions on the provision of accommodations in the temporary dormitories were made on a first come, first served basis, which created inequality between IDPs. There are no legal mechanisms to provide social housing for the most vulnerable categories of IDPs (the elderly, people with disabilities, and single parents). The temporary dormitory in one town (its name is hidden to protect anonymity) was closing down, and IDPs were offered the choice of moving to a dormitory in another oblast. This closure would have massive implications for their everyday life, considering that among those who lived in that dormitory are elderly people and women with disabilities. For example, the following informant felt very frustrated when she shared her worries:
We were offered to move to different city—to Sumy or Kryvyi Rih—I do not remember now. But we are not stray musicians, rights? We are temporally displaced people. When the war will be finished we will go back home. How could we return there if we live in those two rooms where they placed us? I do not know. Where could I go to another city? Children go to kindergarten. Lena—to kindergarten, Irina—to school, Anna–to college. Olga—in spite the fact that she has disability, has bronchial asthma–she went to work in the factory informally. What to do? I would like to work but I cannot physically, I have such a rare disease, one in a million people […] I have to stop after each 20 metres walking.
(IDP from Horlivka, female, 50 years old, lives in Kharkiv oblast, names have been changed)The new scheme of 50/50, in which the IDP receives half the price of a property and covers the rest themselves, has not met with enthusiasm from either IDPs or NGOs: the time lines and conditions are not transparent, and it also excludes vulnerable categories of IDPs. Almost all interviews with IDPs highlighted that housing issues are one of the most crucial factors when they consider their prospects of living in GCA. Some of the IDPs who have friends and relatives living in NGCA question the position of the authorities that support only those who moved to GCA and do not go back. As one of the participants of the focus-group, an elderly woman, mentioned: “Some say that those who wanted to move [from war-torn territories] they moved. You know, well… But where? Does anyone invite you anywhere?” (focus group in Chernihiv 2017). Moreover, our respondents mentioned IDPs (mostly elderly) who had to move back to NGCA because of difficulties with accommodations, pensions, and employment. Also, the impossibility in many cases of bringing elderly parents to the government-controlled areas (due to housing issues makes the choice to go back to NGCA is unavoidable. Then, because people do not want to lose the status of an IDP, they must go back to GCA regularly for verifications to receive pensions. In sum, the lack of adequate policies regarding IDPs force many of them to return to conflict areas.
According to the recent survey of 4290 people crossing the “line of contact,” conducted by the Rights for Protection in June–July 2017, in the five operating entry/exit checkpoints (EECPs) located in Donetsk and Luhansk oblasts 46.2% of the people who had moved to the government-controlled territories had since returned (Rights for Protection 2017). For about half of the IDPs, the high cost of rented accommodations was the main factor behind this decision. Similarly, the International Organization for Migration (IOM) revealed that among those who returned to NGCA, 57% were retired people, and the most common reasons for return were possession of property, which resulted in people not having to pay rent (64%), and “family reasons” (43%) (IOM 2018, 53–54). Regarding family reasons, interviewees indicated that people with the responsibility of caring for their elderly parents or relatives with disabilities who cannot leave NGCA often return to their former homes, because they cannot easily visit their dependent relatives, due to restrictions in crossing the control line. As noted above, they cannot take the dependent family members to other parts of Ukraine because of the issues with pensions and accommodation. Taken together, these results demonstrate that there is a lack of recognition of the intersectionality of IDPs in state policies towards forced displaced people, and what can be called ”forced return” when people have to go back to the territories where there is still armed conflict, which places them in conditions of bigger humanitarian concern because of lack of infrastructure and danger to their safety in general.
Conclusions
This article has offered an intersectional approach and employed Massey’s (Reference Massey2009) “power geometry” concept. It also explored technical landscapes of social control and discursive landscapes of social power as modalities of bordering space which politically situate internally displaced people within a protracted conflict. Recent debates show territories include “embedded logics of power and of claim-making” (Sassen Reference Sassen2013, 23), and in Ukraine, control over borders and space is amplified because of the ambiguity of the status of the population from non-government controlled-territories. Not only do physical checkpoints become landscapes of technical control, but discursive landscapes of social power, including policies towards IDPs, also producing ‘invisible’ borders.
The different spatial powers which are exercised in Ukraine, between the government and non-government-controlled areas, allow the Ukrainian authorities to construct IDPs as NGCA regime supporters, despite the extreme socio-economic marginalization that many of them endure. This, in Collins’ [Reference Collins1990] terms, is reflected in both structural and disciplinary policies towards IDPs. In terms of temporality and space, the socio-political construction of IDPs by the authorities is static and one of control. For example, in order to maintain IDP status, citizens must declare to the authorities their place of residence, and they are not allowed to leave the GCA of Ukraine for more than 60 days. Some IDPs, especially young people and those who have resources, try to avoid being placed in such “power geometry,” and thus do not obtain the legal status of internally displaced persons to escape government control and observation. Those who do require state support, especially the elderly and people with disabilities or injuries from war, are affected in their everyday life by the above regime of verification even though registration with the state does not mean that their specific needs are provided for by the government. Moreover, the space within GCA is affected by the fact that IDP pensioners living there are labeled by the state as “pension tourists” if they return to NGCA even if only for a very brief period of time. This distinction has enabled the Ukrainian government to suspend the pensions of thousands of elderly people and people with disabilities who rarely, or never, return to the war-torn territories.
The intersections of displacement with gender and age, and the lack of state recognition of these differing groups of IDPs, together with the lack of economic resources to enact social policy, produces multiple forms of social exclusion. These effects include a lack of affordable and appropriate accommodations, suspension of pension and benefits, and lack of specialised and free medical support for those who were injured during the war. The situation of elderly IDPs and people with disabilities, and the violation of their rights, is a significant consequence of the conflict. However, because those whose rights are violated often do not have a voice, including until recently the right to vote in local elections, only NGOs and international organizations are very active in promoting rights of pensioners and IDPs (see Kuznetsova et al. Reference Kuznetsova, Mikheieva, Gulyieva, Dragneva and Mykhnenko2018; Kuznetsova Reference Kuznetsova2019), though considering the long time since the start of war, their successes have been much delayed. As a result, some are forced to return to NGCA. In these conditions, the opportunities for reconciliation and social cohesion in Donbas can be very challenging. This lack of a humanitarian perspective, and the authorities’ rhetoric which does not make IDPs feel welcome, can be challenging to social cohesion.
The research presented in this article illustrated the need for an analysis of both state policy and the intersectional experiences of forcibly displaced people, the number of which grows daily around the world, in a context of power geometry and modalities of borders. It highlighted the opportunities of this approach by analyzing how the reaction to the war brings authorities to perceive displaced people as a static category and reproduces war-lexicon in policies which fracture and border the space of everyday life.
Future research should target the development of better tools for understanding the cross-border experience of displaced people who return to war-torn regions in Ukraine. There are over a million people who have been deprived of full access to citizens’ rights: this situation could protract the everyday uncertainties faced by IDPs during the current conflict. By neglecting IDPs’ electoral, property, and pension rights, the country might face a deeper divide between civil society and the state in the future.
Acknowledgments.
Thanks are given to all the internally displaced people who took\ part in this study and gave generous amounts of their time, and also to the representatives of local authorities, NGOs, and other international organizations for talks and interviews. Special thanks goes to the Ukrainian Catholic University and NGO Dobrochyn, Chernihiv Centre for Human Rights, and IZOLYATSIA for their support in the organization of the project’s events, and Dr. Svitlana Babenko, Dr. Mariia Kolokolova, Dr. Viktoriya Sereda, Dr. Vlad Mykhnenko, Prof. Rilka Dragneva, and Dr. Gulara Guliyeva for the fruitful discussions. We thank the anonymous referees, Nationalities Papers editors, and Dr. Caress Schenk for their insightful comments.
Financial Support.
This work was supported by the Arts and Humanities Research Council UK with the Partnership for Conflict, Crime, and Security Research, through the project “Ukraine’s Hidden Tragedy: Understanding the Outcomes of Population Displacement from the Country’s War-Torn Regions” (grant AH/P008305/1), as well as the Wellcome Trust Institutional Strategic Support Fund, UK’s “Mental Health and Well-Being of Internally Displaced People: Copying Tactics and Resilience in Conflict-Affected Societies.”
Disclosure.
Authors have nothing to disclose.