In a powerful testament to the resilience of culture, thousands of readers recently convened in Kyiv for a literary festival, braving the constant threat of air raids to engage with authors and their work. This gathering, four years into a brutal conflict, underscores how war has not diminished, but rather amplified, the appetite for literature within Ukraine. Russia's systematic efforts to dismantle Ukrainian culture and identity, including the destruction or damage of over 700 libraries within the first three years of the full-scale invasion, have been widely documented.
Paradoxically, this campaign has also invigorated a movement away from Russian literature and the Russian-language titles that previously dominated the Ukrainian market. Ukrainian literature and publishing are now flourishing, extending beyond the powerful documentary accounts of war often recognised internationally. There is a growing space for experimental writing and works that bridge the divide between those on the frontline and citizens living in relative safety.
The deliberate targeting of culture in wartime is a recognised strategy, as culture serves to sustain identity and memory. However, literature emerges not only as a victim but also as a crucial instrument of survival, resistance, and witnessing. In Sudan, for instance, following the outbreak of civil war in 2023, one resident in Nyala, Darfur, reportedly opened his personal library to his community, offering a vital refuge from an oppressive reality after public libraries were closed or destroyed.
Historian Andrew Pettegree highlights that while bombing and destruction often form the dominant narrative surrounding books in wartime, they are also “both victims and protagonists.” Franklin D. Roosevelt famously declared in 1942 that “books are weapons,” acknowledging their potent, albeit sometimes problematic, influence. In Myanmar, poets and writers have been directly targeted by the regime, reflecting poetry's historical role in the country's political landscape, including its anti-colonial struggle against the British. The journey of poets like Maung Saungkha, who transitioned from anti-war sentiment to taking up arms after the 2022 military coup, illustrates this profound connection between literature and resistance.
Furthermore, writers in conflict zones often contend with external audiences who primarily seek accounts of horror and destruction. In Gaza, despite Israeli strikes killing at least 45 artists, writers, and cultural activists within the first four months of the war, including notable poets, the creative spirit persists. Academics like Huda Fakhreddine have criticised the tendency to only recognise Palestinian voices through the lens of victimhood. Gaza, before the current conflict, boasted a high literacy rate, a rich literary heritage, and eight universities, underscoring the depth of culture that continues to exist and inspire writing even amidst crumbling ruins. These works, whether poems of desperation or narratives of hope, reach out to readers globally, bearing witness to realities that cameras and statistics cannot fully convey, and daring to imagine a future beyond immediate devastation.