Should Zelensky's government be afraid of far-right groups?
Ukrainian deputy Oleksandr Merezhko sparked a stern online backlash after publicly warning about the threat posed by what he described as a growing far-right movement in Ukrainian society. Ukraine’s far-right fringe remains a sensitive topic in the war-torn country – and an easy target for Russian propaganda.
Issued on: 11/10/2024 -
By: Paul MILLAR
In this July 29, 2018 photo, Yuri Chornota Cherkashin, right, head of Sokil, gives instructions on how to assemble an AK-47 rifle to young participants of the "Temper of Will" summer camp, organised by the nationalist Svoboda party in a village near Ternopil, Ukraine. © Felipe Dana, AP
It was a startling statement by anyone’s standards. Speaking to the Financial Times at the start of October, Ukrainian deputy Oleksandr Merezhko, the chair of the parliament’s foreign affairs committee and a member of President Volodymyr Zelensky’s Servant of the People party, said that ultranationalist elements within the war-torn country posed a very real threat to the government – and one that could one day stand in the way of any attempt to negotiate an end to years of brutal fighting.
“There will always be a radical segment of Ukrainian society that will call any negotiation capitulation,” he said. “The far right in Ukraine is growing. The right wing is a danger to democracy.”
Although he didn’t name names, Merezhko’s words clearly struck a nerve. Dmytro Kucharchuk, a commander in the Third Assault Brigade of the Ukrainian armed forces, took to social media to call the deputy a far-left coward. Another brigade commander, Maksym Zhorin, accused Marezhko of having no idea what he was talking about, saying in no uncertain terms that yes, in fact, negotiations on Russia’s conditions would always be seen as capitulation.
“As for the right wing, they are the basis of the country's security,” he added.
It’s not hard to see why both men would feel that Merezhko had been talking about them. The Third Assault Brigade was created by veterans of the far-right Azov Battalion as a volunteer unit following Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2022, before being folded into the nation’s armed forces. It is led by Azov Battalion founder and far-right politician Andriy Biletsky, who in 2010 reportedly called for Ukraine to “lead the white races of the world in a final crusade” against what he described as “Semite-led Untermenschen” – or subhumans.
As for the formal successor to the Azov Battalion itself, now absorbed into Ukraine’s National Guard as the 12th Azov Assault Brigade – or Azov Brigade – it has publicly tried to distance itself from its white supremacist roots. This tactic was rewarded in August when the US lifted a long-standing ban on supplying weapons and training to the group, having long been leery of directly arming what critics described as a far-right force credibly accused of violating international humanitarian law in the Donbas.
Beyond the fringe
Just how far the Azov Battalion’s successor has shed its ultranationalist underpinnings remains a source of fierce debate. For its supporters, the Azov Brigade has become an irreproachable symbol of unyielding resistance, having held Russian forces at bay for months in Mariupol's sprawling Azovstal steelworks before finally surrendering the city – and leaving hundreds of Azov prisoners in Russian captivity.
For its detractors though, the brigade’s claims to have left its extremist roots behind ring hollow. Critics have pointed to the endurance of neo-Nazi symbols such as the “wolf’s hook” and “black sun” – both historically used by the Nazi Waffen-SS – as well as its current leader’s background in the so-called White Boys’ Club, a far-right football hooligan group. Despite the official dissolution of the Azov Battalion in 2015, a broader Azov movement has flourished, featuring publishing houses, children's summer camps, martial arts competitions and an urban vigilante force.
Nor are the Azov Brigade and Third Assault Brigade the only armed groups accused of far-right leanings. Although not officially part of Ukraine’s armed forces, the Christian nationalist Bratstvo, or Brotherhood, battalion, and the Azov-spawned Kraken unit are two volunteer forces that have been active on – and sometimes beyond – the frontlines. The far-right Russia Volunteer Corps, led by Russian neo-Nazi militant Denis “White Rex” Kasputin, has also fought against Putin’s troops on their home turf with what is believed to be Ukraine’s backing.
The presence of a far-right fringe in Ukraine and its armed forces remains an awkward subject. Russian President Vladimir Putin has for years tried to legitimise Moscow’s invasion of Ukraine as a necessary blow against what he repeatedly calls a “neo-Nazi” regime – a label that sits unconvincingly on Jewish Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky.
And while far-right parties such as Svoboda, Right Sector and Biletsky’s National Corps have tried to capitalise on the country’s nationalist fervour by launching bids for political power, they have found little public support. Researchers point to the far-right coalition’s abysmal performance in the 2019 federal elections, where the Svoboda-led group gained less than 3 percent of the vote, as evidence that while no country in Europe is free from far-right ideologues, Ukraine’s ultranationalists remain a long way from the halls of power.
Tough choices
But some experts have said that fear of fuelling the Kremlin’s propaganda has left Ukraine’s civil society unwilling to confront the extent to which the far right has leveraged its role in the fight against Russian forces to its own advantage.
Marta Havryshko, a Ukrainian historian focusing on sexual violence in the Holocaust, has been a vocal critic of what she describes as Western and Ukrainian media’s downplaying of the presence of far-right groups in Ukraine.
“The far right in Ukraine, of course their influence was exaggerated by Kremlin propaganda to justify the full-scale invasion and military aggression against Ukraine,” she said. “But it doesn’t automatically mean that Ukraine doesn’t have a problem with far-right street violence, with threatening feminist activists, LGBTQI activists, with promoting anti-democratic values, with training Ukrainian youth and indoctrinating them in racist and neo-Nazi ideas. It doesn’t mean automatically that we don’t have a problem with the far right in Ukraine.”
Lesia Bidochko, a senior lecturer at the Kyiv-Mohyla Academy and KIU fellow at European University Viadrina, said that Ukraine’s far right had gained some degree of social legitimacy following its support of the 2014 Euromaidan protests and fierce fighting against the separatist uprisings that soon followed.
“Faced with growing pro-Russian separatism, the government made the controversial decision to arm and utilise far-right militias as a key force in resisting separatist movements,” she said. “This development not only fuelled domestic tensions but also played into Moscow’s propaganda, which sought to legitimise its intervention by painting Ukraine as being overrun by extremist elements.”
Bidochko added that while these organised movements had carried little weight in parliament in the years that followed, political leaders and oligarchs alike had forged short-lived alliances with militant groups to harass their rivals and protect their own commercial interests.
“On one hand, the rise of the far right can be attributed to Russia’s aggression, which has reignited the fervour of Ukrainian nationalists regarding territorial integrity and consolidation of the Ukrainian nation,” she said. “On the other, it is also a consequence of Ukraine’s opportunistic political elites, who are willing to engage with even overt neo-Nazi elements to further their interests and gain political profit.”
For Havryshko, this willingness to turn a blind eye to far-right groups stemmed in part from the urgency of the fight against Russian invasion and occupation.
“The main reason is the concept of the lesser evil. People are thinking about Russian aggression as an existential threat,” she said. “So people just choose the lesser evil – they don’t disagree that some of them are racists and neo-Nazis, but they’re our racists and neo-Nazis, and we will negotiate with them and put controls in place over them and everything will be okay.”
In the spotlight
For some, it’s a strategy that seems to be paying off. Bidochko argued that by integrating former far-right paramilitary groups into formal military structures, the Ukrainian government may be succeeding in drowning out the more extreme voices in these units.
“Right brigades have become highly visible in media and benefit from superior fundraising and support, as seen with units like the Third Assault Brigade, founded by former members of the Azov Battalion,” she said. “Despite the historical far-right associations with Azov, many ordinary Ukrainians now join these brigades more because of their visibility and better maintenance – due to superior fundraising – than for ideological reasons. This has diluted the concentration of fighters with extreme far-right ideologies within these units.”
Not everyone’s convinced. Havryshko said that Azov’s outsized place in the public imagination only strengthened far-right figures still closely associated with the now-defunct battalion.
“The media contributes to this image of brave, unbreakable men who never give up and who are ready to die for their nation,” she said. “But this is still a political project – and their aim is to use the war to gain political benefits, and to gain power.”
“I understand Ukraine is using all available resources because of the lack of manpower,” she added. “But they are not only using them – they are giving them credit, and they are giving them political and symbolic capital.”
Is this, then, the growing threat Merezhko is warning us about? Anton Shekhovtsov, director of Austria’s Centre for Democratic Integrity, said he believed there was little evidence that this symbolic capital would translate into real political weight.
“When Merezhko is saying that the far right is getting stronger, well, first I don’t believe it – there is no indication that the far right is growing, there are no public opinion polls,” he said. “All political life in Ukraine is now paused, it’s halted because of the war. And the existing far-right parties – there is no indication that they’re getting stronger, or that they’re getting any form of support. Of course they make some radical statements and arguments, but people are just not buying it. I would say the only chance it could grow is if some other parties try to use them somehow for their own political games.”
Shekhovstov said that the deputy’s comments were better understood in the context of rising calls for Kyiv and Moscow to resume peace talks – even at the cost of giving up Ukrainian territory seized and occupied by Russian troops. Even after years of desperate fighting, polls continue to show sparse public support for these kinds of concessions.
“He is trying to show that not everybody in Ukraine is going to be happy about eventual negotiations. But he is referring to political parties that have no real support,” he said.
“There will always be radical people who will call for fighting on to the end, but their percentage is miniscule – they’re not a force that should even be considered really. Even in the army – there are some people in different regiments and military units, but they don’t make the weather, so to speak.”
An organised core of far-right militants, an exhausted generation trained to fight and kill, a story waiting to be told about liberals and leftists who stabbed their soldiers in the back to buy a humiliating peace – for Havryshko, the parallels with the Weimar Republic are easy enough to draw.
And although Bidochko maintained that the far right was far from alone in rejecting suggestions that Ukraine cede even an inch of territory to Russia, they could be well-placed to profit off the rage and despair that such a treaty may produce.
“If Ukraine were to sign a peace treaty on Russia’s terms, it could create an opening for far-right groups like Azov to regain political significance by capitalising on public dissatisfaction,” she said. “A sense of betrayal following major concessions to the Kremlin could potentially shift public support toward these factions.”
It was a startling statement by anyone’s standards. Speaking to the Financial Times at the start of October, Ukrainian deputy Oleksandr Merezhko, the chair of the parliament’s foreign affairs committee and a member of President Volodymyr Zelensky’s Servant of the People party, said that ultranationalist elements within the war-torn country posed a very real threat to the government – and one that could one day stand in the way of any attempt to negotiate an end to years of brutal fighting.
“There will always be a radical segment of Ukrainian society that will call any negotiation capitulation,” he said. “The far right in Ukraine is growing. The right wing is a danger to democracy.”
Although he didn’t name names, Merezhko’s words clearly struck a nerve. Dmytro Kucharchuk, a commander in the Third Assault Brigade of the Ukrainian armed forces, took to social media to call the deputy a far-left coward. Another brigade commander, Maksym Zhorin, accused Marezhko of having no idea what he was talking about, saying in no uncertain terms that yes, in fact, negotiations on Russia’s conditions would always be seen as capitulation.
“As for the right wing, they are the basis of the country's security,” he added.
It’s not hard to see why both men would feel that Merezhko had been talking about them. The Third Assault Brigade was created by veterans of the far-right Azov Battalion as a volunteer unit following Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2022, before being folded into the nation’s armed forces. It is led by Azov Battalion founder and far-right politician Andriy Biletsky, who in 2010 reportedly called for Ukraine to “lead the white races of the world in a final crusade” against what he described as “Semite-led Untermenschen” – or subhumans.
As for the formal successor to the Azov Battalion itself, now absorbed into Ukraine’s National Guard as the 12th Azov Assault Brigade – or Azov Brigade – it has publicly tried to distance itself from its white supremacist roots. This tactic was rewarded in August when the US lifted a long-standing ban on supplying weapons and training to the group, having long been leery of directly arming what critics described as a far-right force credibly accused of violating international humanitarian law in the Donbas.
Beyond the fringe
Just how far the Azov Battalion’s successor has shed its ultranationalist underpinnings remains a source of fierce debate. For its supporters, the Azov Brigade has become an irreproachable symbol of unyielding resistance, having held Russian forces at bay for months in Mariupol's sprawling Azovstal steelworks before finally surrendering the city – and leaving hundreds of Azov prisoners in Russian captivity.
For its detractors though, the brigade’s claims to have left its extremist roots behind ring hollow. Critics have pointed to the endurance of neo-Nazi symbols such as the “wolf’s hook” and “black sun” – both historically used by the Nazi Waffen-SS – as well as its current leader’s background in the so-called White Boys’ Club, a far-right football hooligan group. Despite the official dissolution of the Azov Battalion in 2015, a broader Azov movement has flourished, featuring publishing houses, children's summer camps, martial arts competitions and an urban vigilante force.
Nor are the Azov Brigade and Third Assault Brigade the only armed groups accused of far-right leanings. Although not officially part of Ukraine’s armed forces, the Christian nationalist Bratstvo, or Brotherhood, battalion, and the Azov-spawned Kraken unit are two volunteer forces that have been active on – and sometimes beyond – the frontlines. The far-right Russia Volunteer Corps, led by Russian neo-Nazi militant Denis “White Rex” Kasputin, has also fought against Putin’s troops on their home turf with what is believed to be Ukraine’s backing.
The presence of a far-right fringe in Ukraine and its armed forces remains an awkward subject. Russian President Vladimir Putin has for years tried to legitimise Moscow’s invasion of Ukraine as a necessary blow against what he repeatedly calls a “neo-Nazi” regime – a label that sits unconvincingly on Jewish Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky.
And while far-right parties such as Svoboda, Right Sector and Biletsky’s National Corps have tried to capitalise on the country’s nationalist fervour by launching bids for political power, they have found little public support. Researchers point to the far-right coalition’s abysmal performance in the 2019 federal elections, where the Svoboda-led group gained less than 3 percent of the vote, as evidence that while no country in Europe is free from far-right ideologues, Ukraine’s ultranationalists remain a long way from the halls of power.
Tough choices
But some experts have said that fear of fuelling the Kremlin’s propaganda has left Ukraine’s civil society unwilling to confront the extent to which the far right has leveraged its role in the fight against Russian forces to its own advantage.
Marta Havryshko, a Ukrainian historian focusing on sexual violence in the Holocaust, has been a vocal critic of what she describes as Western and Ukrainian media’s downplaying of the presence of far-right groups in Ukraine.
“The far right in Ukraine, of course their influence was exaggerated by Kremlin propaganda to justify the full-scale invasion and military aggression against Ukraine,” she said. “But it doesn’t automatically mean that Ukraine doesn’t have a problem with far-right street violence, with threatening feminist activists, LGBTQI activists, with promoting anti-democratic values, with training Ukrainian youth and indoctrinating them in racist and neo-Nazi ideas. It doesn’t mean automatically that we don’t have a problem with the far right in Ukraine.”
Lesia Bidochko, a senior lecturer at the Kyiv-Mohyla Academy and KIU fellow at European University Viadrina, said that Ukraine’s far right had gained some degree of social legitimacy following its support of the 2014 Euromaidan protests and fierce fighting against the separatist uprisings that soon followed.
“Faced with growing pro-Russian separatism, the government made the controversial decision to arm and utilise far-right militias as a key force in resisting separatist movements,” she said. “This development not only fuelled domestic tensions but also played into Moscow’s propaganda, which sought to legitimise its intervention by painting Ukraine as being overrun by extremist elements.”
Bidochko added that while these organised movements had carried little weight in parliament in the years that followed, political leaders and oligarchs alike had forged short-lived alliances with militant groups to harass their rivals and protect their own commercial interests.
“On one hand, the rise of the far right can be attributed to Russia’s aggression, which has reignited the fervour of Ukrainian nationalists regarding territorial integrity and consolidation of the Ukrainian nation,” she said. “On the other, it is also a consequence of Ukraine’s opportunistic political elites, who are willing to engage with even overt neo-Nazi elements to further their interests and gain political profit.”
For Havryshko, this willingness to turn a blind eye to far-right groups stemmed in part from the urgency of the fight against Russian invasion and occupation.
“The main reason is the concept of the lesser evil. People are thinking about Russian aggression as an existential threat,” she said. “So people just choose the lesser evil – they don’t disagree that some of them are racists and neo-Nazis, but they’re our racists and neo-Nazis, and we will negotiate with them and put controls in place over them and everything will be okay.”
In the spotlight
For some, it’s a strategy that seems to be paying off. Bidochko argued that by integrating former far-right paramilitary groups into formal military structures, the Ukrainian government may be succeeding in drowning out the more extreme voices in these units.
“Right brigades have become highly visible in media and benefit from superior fundraising and support, as seen with units like the Third Assault Brigade, founded by former members of the Azov Battalion,” she said. “Despite the historical far-right associations with Azov, many ordinary Ukrainians now join these brigades more because of their visibility and better maintenance – due to superior fundraising – than for ideological reasons. This has diluted the concentration of fighters with extreme far-right ideologies within these units.”
Not everyone’s convinced. Havryshko said that Azov’s outsized place in the public imagination only strengthened far-right figures still closely associated with the now-defunct battalion.
“The media contributes to this image of brave, unbreakable men who never give up and who are ready to die for their nation,” she said. “But this is still a political project – and their aim is to use the war to gain political benefits, and to gain power.”
“I understand Ukraine is using all available resources because of the lack of manpower,” she added. “But they are not only using them – they are giving them credit, and they are giving them political and symbolic capital.”
Is this, then, the growing threat Merezhko is warning us about? Anton Shekhovtsov, director of Austria’s Centre for Democratic Integrity, said he believed there was little evidence that this symbolic capital would translate into real political weight.
“When Merezhko is saying that the far right is getting stronger, well, first I don’t believe it – there is no indication that the far right is growing, there are no public opinion polls,” he said. “All political life in Ukraine is now paused, it’s halted because of the war. And the existing far-right parties – there is no indication that they’re getting stronger, or that they’re getting any form of support. Of course they make some radical statements and arguments, but people are just not buying it. I would say the only chance it could grow is if some other parties try to use them somehow for their own political games.”
Shekhovstov said that the deputy’s comments were better understood in the context of rising calls for Kyiv and Moscow to resume peace talks – even at the cost of giving up Ukrainian territory seized and occupied by Russian troops. Even after years of desperate fighting, polls continue to show sparse public support for these kinds of concessions.
“He is trying to show that not everybody in Ukraine is going to be happy about eventual negotiations. But he is referring to political parties that have no real support,” he said.
“There will always be radical people who will call for fighting on to the end, but their percentage is miniscule – they’re not a force that should even be considered really. Even in the army – there are some people in different regiments and military units, but they don’t make the weather, so to speak.”
An organised core of far-right militants, an exhausted generation trained to fight and kill, a story waiting to be told about liberals and leftists who stabbed their soldiers in the back to buy a humiliating peace – for Havryshko, the parallels with the Weimar Republic are easy enough to draw.
And although Bidochko maintained that the far right was far from alone in rejecting suggestions that Ukraine cede even an inch of territory to Russia, they could be well-placed to profit off the rage and despair that such a treaty may produce.
“If Ukraine were to sign a peace treaty on Russia’s terms, it could create an opening for far-right groups like Azov to regain political significance by capitalising on public dissatisfaction,” she said. “A sense of betrayal following major concessions to the Kremlin could potentially shift public support toward these factions.”
