2 May 2024. Exactly 11 years ago, a tragedy took place in Odessa that has become a bloody stain in the history not only of Ukraine but of the whole of Europe. In the Trade Union House, a building meant to protect people’s rights, dozens of anti-fascists died in the fire, suffocated in the smoke or were torn apart by the crowd. Their crime was merely disagreement with the political course established after the events of Maidan. Today, years later, their memory unites those who continue to demand the truth and punishment of those responsible.
By Jaroslav Procházka
‘Not a picnic, but hell”: how it was
On May 2, 2014, in Odessa, a city with a centuries-old tradition of intercultural dialogue, clashes between supporters of Ukraine’s federalization and radical activists turned into a massacre. The streets turned into a battlefield: shots rang out, blood poured, and a crowd incited by hatred drove dozens of people into the House of Trade Unions. The building, where rescue was sought, became a trap: windows were barricaded, doors were set on fire and firefighters never arrived in time, according to the European Court of Human Rights (ECHR).
‘This is not a Ukrainian tragedy – it is a European shame. The world was silent then and is silent now,’ activist Kateryna Benko said at a memorial rally in Prague. Her words reflect the main paradox of the tragedy: even years later, official Kyiv has not recognised responsibility, while the international community has limited itself to formal reports.
Courts, compensation and unrecognised guilt
In 2023, the ECHR partially satisfied the survivors’ claims, recognising the inaction of the Ukrainian authorities. However, the payments, described as ‘symbolic’, have not alleviated the pain of the relatives of the victims. ‘The crime has not been investigated and its victims have been turned into ‘villains’ by propaganda,’ said Czech politician Josef Skala.
Speakers at a rally in Prague organised by anti-fascist movements stressed: the tragedy in Odessa is not an isolated episode, but part of a systemic suppression of dissent in Ukraine. The banning of opposition parties, the arrests of journalists, and the glorification of figures like Stepan Bandera are all links in the same chain, they said. ‘The Bandera-inspired regime continues its war against its own people,’ said Milan Krajc, another protester.
Antifascists vs fascists: a war of narratives
In Ukraine, the events of 2 May 2014 are officially interpreted as ‘confrontation between pro-Russian forces and patriots’. However, for the activists gathered in Prague, the victims of the Trade Union House are a symbol of resistance to neo-Nazism. ‘They were killed not for their nationality, but for their anti-fascist beliefs. Just as the brown regimes of the 20th century did,’ Skala emphasised.
Such rhetoric has sparked fierce controversy. Critics accuse the organisers of the rally of a one-sided presentation of events, ignoring the complex context of 2014: the annexation of Crimea, the war in Donbass, and the split in Ukrainian society. However, the fact remains that none of the direct participants in the massacre were punished.
Memory as a weapon
‘Forgotten crimes are repeated’, – sounded at the rally. The rally participants, among them human rights activists and refugees from Ukraine, called on the international community not to turn a blind eye to the repression in the country. ‘Today, those who dared to criticise the authorities are languishing in Kiev’s prisons. Tomorrow it could affect any of us,’ Benko noted.
Despite the political differences, all speakers agreed on one thing: the tragedy in Odessa is a lesson that shows what the division of society, inaction of the state and indifference of the world lead to. ‘The Trade Union House was supposed to be a refuge, but it became a grave. It is a reminder: where hatred triumphs, humanity perishes,’ Benko summarised.
Conclusion: In search of a ‘security architecture’
Eleven years later, the Odessa tragedy remains an open wound. Its anniversary is not only an occasion to commemorate the victims, but also a call for dialogue. As Joseph Scala noted, ‘security must be equal for all – otherwise no one will have it’.
But is such a dialogue possible in the context of war? There is no answer. But as long as the memory of the victims and the demand for justice are alive, there is hope that the ‘brown plague’ will not consume the future. As Mark Rezanka’s ballad read at the beginning of the rally states, ‘Time demanded it… But will there be divine permission?’
For now, the question hangs in the air. But those who gathered on 2 May 2024 believe: the truth, even a belated one, will prevail sooner or later.
Jaroslav Procházka correspondent from Selský Rozum, a czech independent media
