The Paradox of Ukrainian Civil Society: Those Who Should Be Recovering Are Rebuilding Others
People who should be recovering are rebuilding others — and within this seemingly paradoxical idea lies the very essence of Ukraine’s civil society, which over the years of full-scale war has ceased to be a separate field of activity and has instead become a way of living, a form of responsibility that does not end with the working day and no longer has a clear boundary between the personal and the professional.
In Ukraine, civil society no longer functions as something adjacent to the state or in opposition to it — this logic no longer holds, because the sector here does not merely respond to crisis, but in fact carries a share of the functions that, in other countries, are performed by state institutions, and it does so not through formal mandate, but through trust, speed, and the inner motivation of people.
I work as a trainer in project design and management, a facilitator of strategic processes, and a fundraising consultant, and over the past years I have worked with dozens of organizations across Ukraine — from small local initiatives to large networked structures — and what I observe from within is not simply resilience or adaptation, but a profound transformation of the very nature of the sector, which can no longer be described as a “third sector,” as it is gradually becoming one of the key systems that holds the country together.
One of the most underestimated shifts is that civil society organizations have effectively taken on part of the state’s functions, including the coordination of humanitarian aid, work with internally displaced people, support for veterans, and even, in part, educational and social services, and this became possible not only out of necessity, but because of a high level of trust that certain organizations had built long before the full-scale invasion.
For example, in the Vinnytsia region, the Podilska Community Foundation became the institution to which both international partners and local authorities turned in order to coordinate assistance, and which was recommended as a reliable partner to others, demonstrating how, in times of crisis, structures that had already earned trust — though not always visible — came to the forefront, and such organizations exist in every region of Ukraine.
If one were to name a single unique capability that Ukrainian civil society has developed, it would be speed under uncertainty, as organizations have learned to plan during shelling, conduct strategic sessions between air raid sirens, make decisions without complete information, and operate under constantly shifting rules, so that uncertainty itself has become the norm — and within it, the capacity to act has emerged.
It can be argued that Ukrainian civil society has developed a new form of competence, one that is difficult to find in classical management models — the ability to act with extraordinary speed under conditions of total uncertainty, where rules constantly change, donors come and go, legislation evolves, mass displacement occurs, and the security situation can shift within hours, and yet organizations not only respond, but plan, hold strategic sessions, launch new projects, and maintain long-term vision.
This appears paradoxical, because classical theories of management assume that sustained effectiveness is only possible in conditions of stability, yet the Ukrainian experience demonstrates otherwise — that the ability to act within instability can itself become a distinct managerial competence, enabling not only survival but the creation of new solutions and even new social technologies.
Short cycles — high intensity. I often observe how Ukrainian organizations set extremely ambitious targets, such as reaching hundreds of beneficiaries within a short period of time, while at the same time treating every unit of funding with exceptional care, optimizing expenditures and even reinvesting remaining funds into their own development and learning, which reflects a high level of responsibility but also creates the risk of systemic burnout.
Compared to many European organizations, this may appear as overperformance, yet it is also one of the underlying causes of exhaustion within the sector, and at the same time, it is difficult to counteract, as it is deeply rooted in mentality.
What hurts most is not only workload, but meaning. Despite its growth, the sector is experiencing deep internal exhaustion, and burnout has become one of its most serious internal challenges, as after years of continuous crisis — first the pandemic, and then the war — many leaders and key staff members are depleted, teams sometimes fall apart, people leave the sector, and at the same time those who remain begin to ask different questions — not only about effectiveness, but about meaning, about the future, and about how to recover without losing themselves.
I observe how alongside this, a new type of demand is emerging: organizations are no longer simply asking “what should we do,” but rather, “how do we recover and retain our team?”, “where do we move next?”, “what is our purpose now?”, because while psychological support is important, it is not sufficient — people need a vision of the future, and it is belief in that future that keeps them moving forward.
And yet, perhaps the essence of this sector is best understood not through data or analysis, but through specific human stories.
I know a woman — let us call her Olena — who works with the organization “Growing Up in a Family,” and who survived occupation, torture, displacement from a de-occupied territory, and the loss of her home, and instead of focusing on rebuilding her own life, moved to Kharkiv — a city under constant shelling — where she coordinates work with children who have lost parental care, raises her own children as well as foster children, serves as a chaplain, volunteers extensively, and says that she only truly managed to rest when she was hospitalized, and even within this reality continues to work and is planning to get married.
Ukrainian civil society today is a system of paradoxes, yet this is precisely how it functions, as it can no longer be separated from people’s lives and has become part of the system itself.
It is one of the valves of the country’s heart, and if even one of them stops functioning, the heart ceases to beat.
This may seem like an extreme case, but in reality it is deeply characteristic of Ukrainian civil society, where people do not separate their work from their lives, and where responsibility often transforms into a form of self-sacrifice that becomes not an exception, but a norm.
Partnerships as a condition for survival.
For this reason, Ukrainian civil society can no longer be viewed as a separate system, because it has become part of a larger organism — part of the country’s heart — in which every element performs its function, and if even one fails, the entire system is affected, and today this is evolving into a new model in which communities define needs, businesses provide resources, and civil society organizations implement solutions.
Only a few years ago, cooperation between communities, business, and civil society was often declarative.
Today, new organizational models are emerging — networks built on values — for example, the Ukrainian Educational Platform is developing a system of “support hubs,” partner organizations that remain autonomous while working within a shared logic, forming not a classical hierarchy or network, but an ecosystem built on trust and shared values.
This does not mean that the sector is without challenges or that this model is ideal — on the contrary, it carries significant risks, including overload, instability, and dependence on external funding — yet at the same time it demonstrates an extraordinary capacity for rapid adaptation and for creating new forms of partnership that are no longer declarative, but essential for survival.
Ukrainian civil society is not a sector. It is a way of living when there is no alternative.
And perhaps this is the key lesson of the Ukrainian experience: that civil society can be not merely a complement to the state, but one of the systems that holds a country together in its most difficult moments — even when those who should be recovering continue to rebuild others.
Olha Malikhatko
expert in project design and management, organizational development, facilitator of strategic sessions, fundraising consultant, and founder of an online school of project design and management.