In the shadow of a brutal, protracted conflict, a quiet correspondence has emerged as a testament to the resilience of human connection. Between December 2023 and the summer of 2026, Gennadiy Druzenko, a Ukrainian academic and founder of the Pirogov First Volunteer Mobile Hospital (PDMSh), and Mikhaïl Chichkine, a writer living in Switzerland since 1995, exchanged letters that navigated the deepest rifts of war, hatred, and the daunting prospect of a shared future. This dialogue represents a rare, deliberate attempt to build a bridge across an abyss of blood and pain.
The Origins of an Unlikely Correspondence
The exchange began with an email from Druzenko, who sought out Chichkine, an opponent to the war who has lived in Switzerland since 1995. Druzenko, whose organization has provided medical care to over 90,000 patients—including Russian prisoners of war—reached out to the writer during a visit to Switzerland. The Ukrainian medic, who has been the subject of scrutiny following a controversial 2022 statement regarding the treatment of prisoners, sought to engage a representative of Russian culture who opposes the war.
Chichkine, while unable to meet in person due to prior commitments, responded with a clear affirmation of the mission. “J’éprouve une profonde admiration pour vous et pour vos collègues, qui sauvez des vies dans cette guerre effroyable,” he wrote. Chichkine emphasized that the task of reconciliation—or at least the eventual resumption of neighborly existence—will fall to the cultural figures of both nations. While he acknowledged that such a bridge might not be completed for generations, he stressed that the work of building it must begin immediately.
Constructing a Bridge Across Linguistic Divides
As the correspondence progressed, Druzenko shifted from Russian to Ukrainian, a move he described as symbolic. By writing in his native tongue, he aimed to build a connection from the “shore” of his own culture, challenging the notion that their differences were insurmountable. This linguistic choice reflects a broader struggle to reconcile the identities of two nations currently locked in an existential fight.
“Tôt ou tard, cette guerre prendra fin, et il nous faudra alors jeter des ponts par-dessus l’abîme – de douleur, de sang et de haine – qui se creuse entre Russes et Ukrainiens, pour chaque nouveau jour de carnage, pour chaque mort,” wrote Chichkine.
The exchange touched upon the concept of the “Russian World” (русский мир), the geopolitical framework used to support imperialist claims. Druzenko noted that while this ideology has caused immeasurable suffering, the reality of geography remains: Russia and Ukraine will eventually have to coexist. He pointed to the work of his friend, the writer and icon painter Oleksandr Klymenko, whose project “Icons on Ammo Boxes” transforms materials of death into symbols of life, as a beacon for how culture might process this trauma.
The Weight of the Aftermath
The dialogue between these two men highlights a profound tension: the necessity of the current struggle against the inevitability of a post-war reality. Druzenko’s outreach is not an attempt to minimize the conflict but to acknowledge that the future will require a new ethical framework. By engaging with Chichkine, he is testing the possibility of a dialogue that transcends the binary of “us versus them.”
This correspondence serves as a reminder that even when the state apparatus is fully committed to destruction, individual agency remains. The two men have established a precedent for talking about the “day after,” a conversation that is often sidelined by the immediate demands of the front. Their letters illustrate the difficult, slow work of humanizing the “other” in a time when dehumanization is the primary currency of war.
As the conflict continues, the exchange between Druzenko and Chichkine offers a fragile, essential perspective on what it means to remain human under the pressure of historical catastrophe. It raises a poignant question for all observers of the war: if those who have seen the worst of the carnage can commit to building a bridge, what is the responsibility of those removed from the front lines in facilitating that same future?
