Author: Tihomir Majić
There are moments when history ceases to be a chronicle of events and becomes the moral legitimation of peoples.
The Day of the Liberation of Ukraine would be one of them, the moment when Europe, exhausted by divisions and wars, would reach its final freedom and meaning of existence.
It would be a morning such as Europe had not experienced for centuries. A clear sky would dawn over Kiev, and the Dnieper, the soul of Ukraine, would be quiet, as if it understood, and peace would come.
People would take to the streets with flags, flowers and pictures of the dead, not in triumph, but in the dignity of those who endured and won.
On the Maidan, thousands of voices would join in a song of gratitude to the fallen heroes.
The bells of St. Sophia Cathedral in Kiev would ring, the bells of St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome would ring.
After many centuries, Europe, and Western and Eastern Christianity, would become united.
In London, Big Ben would tick away the time for the whole world, and in Berlin and Paris, passersby would happily stop in front of screens showing liberated Donetsk, Luhansk, Mariupol and Crimea.
In the East and West, in the North and South, Europe would breathe freely, aware that its values are not just declarative, but won.
This victory would not only be military, but moral and civilizational, because there are moments when morality becomes a political force, and faith in freedom, a strategic advantage. Ukraine would regain its borders, and Europe, its own soul and self-confidence.
On that day, Europe would cry with joy, but not because of the celebration of war, but because of the realization that it is still capable of a peace that makes sense, a peace that is not a concession, but a fulfilled vow!