In the days following the invasion, Odessa faced a grave test. It took five days for the assault to unfold and five more days of harsh condemnation to follow. The bombing created a dark umbrella for Kremlin troops as they pushed into Ukrainian territory. One opposition councillor recalls, “He chose to wait to see what happens.” In a park once celebrated as a cosmopolitan heart of literature and culture, Odessa’s identity clashed with the fear of the moment. Critics note that district leaders believed Russia could seize Kiev quickly, only to fear the backlash from a wary electorate. In the 2020 municipal elections, pro-Russian parties won a substantial portion of council seats, signaling the political complexity of the city.
Gennady Trujanov, the mayor, long known as a veteran, publicly condemned the invasion and managed to stay in office, unlike the governor who was removed from power by the president on the seventh day. His trajectory shows how opinions among Odessa residents split between pride in a diverse heritage and anxiety about the war’s impact. The city’s multiethnic fabric—rooted in Polish, Jewish, Italian, Greek, Ukrainian, and Armenian influences—shaped a unique identity that resisted easy categorization. The invasion forced the city to rethink its past even as it faced a painful present, pushing some residents toward internal exile while unsettling the feelings of others.
Many say that the Russian language and culture are deeply embedded in Odessa, even as the war tests that connection. Ukrainian voices, like Kateryna Yergueva, ask how to reconcile a heritage that still includes a strong Russian literary tradition. The local Literary Museum, long dedicated to writers such as Pushkin, Chekhov, Tolstoy, Mayakovsky, and Akhmatova, reflects that intertwined history. “Russian literature is a complex legacy,” she notes, suggesting a need to speak about it anew because contemporary high culture should not bear responsibility for actions of the Putin regime. The concept of World Heritage now weighs on local discourse.
Catherine the Great Statue
A group of Ukrainian historians pressed for Russian writers to be removed from the museum, echoing a petition that attracted more than 25,000 signatures for the City Council. The statue of Catherine II, the Russian empress who founded Odessa after conquering the Ottomans in 1794, stands as a symbol of centuries of influence. The city’s melting pot of French, Jewish, Italian, Greek, Ukrainian, and Armenian communities has long defined its character, but many see the statue as the origin of a long arc of domination that continued into the Soviet era. Under the empress’s pedestal, a graffiti message reads “Assassin.”
The derussification effort, which began around 2014, has divided the city. Some residents, like historian Alexander Babich, acknowledge the monument’s visual appeal while recognizing its political connotations. The room that housed a travel agency has been repurposed into a logistics hub where volunteers organize aid for the Ukrainian army. A photo of Putin, aimed with crosshairs, sits nearby. “For years I enjoyed revisiting our shared history, but now I feel a Ukrainian urge to sever ties with Russia,” he says. It feels like removing a living part of the body, a painful but necessary act.
Real Estate Market
The real estate landscape in Odessa has shifted as Russian buyers retreat from a city once seen as a playground akin to Saint Petersburg. Homes, hotels, and various businesses have seen dramatic changes in ownership. Industry sources estimate that reliable statistics are scarce, but many transactions have stalled since the annexation of Crimea. Notaries now operate with caution, and Russians with property connections in Ukraine face heightened scrutiny. The city’s post-2014 era had been marked by a cosmopolitan appeal, attracting money and prestige, but the invasion disrupted that dynamic. It is evident that the market has not recovered the way it once did, and the social fabric has adjusted to a slower, more cautious pace.
The streets show the aftershocks of a conflict that persists in memory. Pro-Russian sentiment has faded in many areas as the true adversary became clear, according to local councilor Obukov. Some residents shifted positions when they recognized the real threat, others left the country, and many chose silence amid the upheaval.
There are also residents with mixed backgrounds who feel both attachment to the Russian homeland and disappointment with political developments. Angelika Ihnatenko, a real estate professional born in Russia and married to a Ukrainian soldier, describes a personal struggle. She has lived in the country for decades and endures daily pain as the war continues. Her experience illustrates the intimate toll on families and communities caught between loyalty and upheaval.