365 Days of War
Vladimir Putin and the Russian military were supposed to capture Kiev in just three or four days—a blitzkrieg similar to Hitler’s 1939 march on Poland. A year later, Putin finds himself in what many characterize as a standoff, with David inflicting massive casualties on Goliath—some reports putting the Russian dead at over 200,000. Ever wonder why the Russians failed so miserably in annexing Ukraine?
Anyone passing through Jane Byrne Park at 2 PM today now has the answer to that perplexing question. Several hundred Ukrainian supporters gathered under Chicago’s historic Water Tower for a march to Millennium Park. Their intent was to illustrate the costs associated with 365 days of combat, wanton destruction of civilian infrastructure, and war crimes. To aid the effort, the organizers had 365 different signs ready for the marchers to carry.
A U-Haul truck parked on the west side of Jane Byrne Park held the signs in neat stacks inside its cargo hold. Two people handed stacks of those signs to several volunteers, who then carried the signs to the Water Tower’s base. Under the watchful eye of Liliia Popovych, other volunteers distributed one or two signs to each marcher. As was true of every aspect of the event, this was a precision military operation, with Popovych functioning as the commander. She perched comfortably on the Water Tower’s plinth with bullhorn in hand, unless she was giving an interview to NBC News 5 or briefly circulating among the crowd.
Each sign carried a numbered day in the upper right-hand corner (e.g., Day 1). Next to the day designation, the phrase ”Of Defending Freedom” was imprinted. The middle portion displayed a photograph of an event (e.g., a missle attack on an apartment building) that corresponded with the designated day. A caption below the image then described the visual.
I had assumed that each marcher would just grab a sign and head out on Popovych’s signal. But the staging was far more complex. Small groups of five or six marchers would cross Chicago Avenue, followed by another group two or three minutes later. As I would soon discover, the first groups did not head directly to Millennium Park. Instead they took up posts along Michigan Avenue at half-block intervals, standing with their signs facing the storefronts as pedestrian traffic passed by.
The signs along the route progressed chronologically. Consequently, the first sign (in front of the Ralph Lauren store at Chicago and Michigan) was labeled “Day 1.” I simply don’t recall whether the marchers maintained perfect chronological order, but after reviewing my images, I determined that they maintained “calendar orderliness”—with lower numbers progressing to higher ones. After seeing the entire operation and watching Popovych throughout the event, I strongly suspect she was the one who imposed order on the lineup.
On their way to Millennium Park, the marchers made an interim stop in front of the Chicago Cultural Center; the early arrivals standing with their signs along the curbside portion of the walkway between Randolph and Washington. Presumably Popovych had called for the pause, which permitted the sentries lining Michigan Avenue north of the river and the marchers who left Jane Byrne Park in the later waves to join the group heading to Millennium Park. Once ready, the group headed to the northwest corner of Millennium Park, where took positions in Wrigley Square.
During the next 50 minutes, Popovych directed the sign holders. At one point, the group encircled the large field; then some marchers doubled up behind the front line of sign holders; and then they all lined up in rows facing northward for a photo opportunity. Throughout the assembly, Popovych either stood in the center of the field or paced along the line of marchers. With bullhorn in hand, she gave orders and led chants, such as the now familiar “Russia is a terrorist state!” Some were in Ukrainian, so I have no idea what was being shouted. Occasionally, one man relieved Popovych, presumably giving her the opportunity catch her breath and rest her vocal chords.
On Popovych’s signal, the demonstrations filed out of the park, heading north along Michigan Avenue to Randolph, where they turned the corner toward the Harris Theater. The U-Haul was parked, with it backdoor open, ready to receive the signs. Under the protective eye of the Chicago Police Department, several volunteers collected each marcher’s sign as the others waited patiently to turn in their signs. The volunteers collecting the signs assembled them into stacks, and those stacks were then returned to the U-Haul. No surprise here: Popovych was watching the entire collection operation, while briefly talking to two independent journalists who had requested an interview.
While I don’t know for sure, I suspect all the signs were returned. Had I been a sign bearer, I would have wanted a souvenir, but everyone seemed to understand the importance of keeping the collection intact, presumably for a future demonstration or as a contribution to the Ukrainian National Museum of Chicago or the Chicago Historical Society. Hopefully, next year at this time, there will not be 730 signs lining Michigan Avenue.
In terms of effectiveness, I am not so sure that this march was entirely successful. No doubt that it served to further unify members of Chicago’s already tightly-knit Ukrainian community. I assume for many, the effort was cathartic, particularly given the significance that comes with any one-year milestone. For the organizers, unity and providing the opportunity to vent might be sufficient.
But in terms of increasing public awareness about the war in Ukraine, the march was not an overwhelming success. Undoubtedly, shoppers on Michigan Avenue took note as they walked past the sign-holding sentries lining Michigan Avenue, but once the marchers entered Millennium Park’s Wrigley Square, they were isolated from the crowds surrounding Cloud Gate (i.e., the Bean) and the skating rink in the plaza below. The scale of the operation was only apparent once all the sign-holders were assembled in one location; yet few witnessed the assembly.
Visually, Wrigley Square was the wrong place to stage the assembly. There is simply too much lawn separating those standing on the east side of the square from those standing on its west side. I know this as a photographer, because the resulting formation simply did not photograph well, particularly at this time of year when the space is brown, with patches of mud, and a sun that was already setting.
If the Ukrainian community decides to stage another demonstration laden with visuals, I recommend either the Riverwalk, with its rows of elevated steps for seating, or the steps leading to the Museum of Contemporary Art. Functionally, both locations offer concrete “risers,” which would successively elevate the rows of participants, creating a dramatic look. Once again, putting on my photographer hat: I would have loved to have been on the other side of the river with a telephoto lens, capturing images of rows of demonstrators holding signs. Of course, the Ukrainians will need to obtain a permit from the City or permission from the MCA before using those spaces.
Despite my quibbles, I continue to marvel at the Ukrainian community’s full-court press in advancing its cause, as well as its ingenuity in staging highly creative and engaging marches and rallies. And it goes without saying, if Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky needs a new military commander, he would be well advised to call on Liliia Popovych.
As I left, I asked her when there would be another demonstration. She indicated that the community needed some time to catch its breath after this weekend.
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