EDITOR'S CORNER: Let's Talk about War Refugees
There has been some discussion in the Finnish media about whether Ukrainians who have settled in Finland will return home once the war ends. Around 70% now say it’s unlikely they will go back. This number has steadily increased as the war has dragged on year after year.
In this blog post, I want to reflect on what it means to be a war refugee in general. I don’t intend to focus on any specific country, though Ukraine is naturally the first example that comes to mind. It’s important to recognize that all war refugees, regardless of nationality, endure similar kinds of suffering and loss.
Around 6.9 million Ukrainians have left their country since Russia’s full-scale invasion began on February 24, 2022. Most found refuge in Europe, while others resettled in the Americas and beyond. In the early days, many believed they would return home once the war ended. But after more than three years of fighting, returning now seems unlikely. Many refugees, mostly women with young children, have built new lives abroad. They have learned new languages, found work, and watched their children grow up in foreign schools.
No home, no country, no land — these words capture the essence of their displacement. To lose one’s home is not just to lose a house, but the rhythm of everyday life: the streets, the neighbors, the familiar sounds. To have no country is to lose belonging itself—to live between cultures, never fully rooted anywhere.
Many of these refugees still carry deep grief. Their towns may be destroyed or occupied, their loved ones still fighting on the front lines. Beyond the material loss lies a quiet sorrow—the loss of home, community, and identity. Even as they build new beginnings, they live with the haunting knowledge that the world they once called home may never be the same.
YES, IT'S HARD BUT WHY TALK ABOUT IT NOW?
I suppose this topic has been on my mind because the question of a peace deal in Ukraine is bound to resurface in the coming months. With a ceasefire now holding in Israel, attention will inevitably shift back to Europe — and once again, there will be talk of ending the war in Ukraine. Perhaps former President Trump will try to broker what he calls a "final deal", but Putin is unlikely to cooperate. His demands will be the same as before: vast swaths of Ukrainian territory and other unreasonable concessions that ignore the human cost of his invasion. This will once again force the people living in those occupied regions to make an impossible choice — whether to remain under Russian control or abandon their homes, their land, and their memories to seek refuge elsewhere.
And so, the cycle of displacement may continue. For every political negotiation, there are millions of ordinary lives hanging in the balance — families torn between hope and fear, between staying and leaving. Peace, when it finally comes, may not restore what was lost. But perhaps it can at least stop the bleeding, giving those without a home, a country, or a land a chance to begin again.
The pressing question, if that happens, is whether Europe is truly prepared for another wave of millions of refugees seeking safety within its borders. The initial outpouring of solidarity in 2022 showed Europe at its most compassionate, opening homes, schools, and job markets to Ukrainians in need. But after years of war, economic strain, and rising political polarization, that goodwill may be harder to sustain. Many European countries are already struggling with integration challenges, housing shortages, and growing fatigue over migration. If another mass exodus occurs, it will test not only Europe’s logistical capacity but also its moral resolve — whether it still stands by the ideals of unity, humanity, and shared responsibility that it proudly upheld at the start of the war.
WHAT ABOUT THE OTHER WARS?
What about the other wars? While Ukraine rightly draws global attention, many other conflicts burn quietly in places like Sudan, Myanmar, Yemen, and the Congo. Millions there are displaced and forgotten, their suffering rarely making headlines. The world’s empathy often seems limited, shaped by politics and proximity. Yet the pain of a mother fleeing Khartoum is no different from one escaping Kharkiv.
Still, we must also be realistic. In Europe, Ukraine must remain the priority. It may sound harsh, but these are desperate times — funding is tight, and right-wing governments are slashing international aid. Ukraine’s struggle is not just another war; it is a fight for Europe’s own stability and security. If Ukraine falls, Europe falls. That means continuing to provide weapons and military support, but also focusing on humanitarian aid — helping refugees, rebuilding lives, and standing firm in defense of shared values.
CONCLUSION
War does not end when the guns fall silent — it lingers in the hearts of those who have lost everything. No home, no country, no land: this is the reality shared by millions, from Ukraine to the forgotten battlefields elsewhere. As the world debates peace deals and shifting alliances, we must remember the people caught in between — those rebuilding lives in exile, waiting for a sense of belonging to return. Europe’s choices in the coming months will matter deeply, not only for Ukraine but for the very idea of compassion and solidarity. To stand with those displaced by war is to defend more than borders — it is to defend our shared humanity.
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