On a Saturday morning in August, Viktor Kruglov, the co-founder and CEO of the publishing firm Ranok, was at the company’s headquarters located in Kharkiv, a city in eastern Ukraine that, along with Kyiv, plays a pivotal role in the nation’s publishing and printing sector. The facility, established 15 years ago on the grounds of a former bread factory, spans approximately 10,000 square meters (107,640 square feet) and features shelves stacked with books towering 12 meters high.
Kruglov and five senior team members convened on the warehouse floor to strategize for the upcoming school year, with the warehouse housing 628,000 new schoolbooks. “This is our peak distribution season,” Kruglov noted, emphasizing the importance of reviewing their processes to ensure timely and efficient delivery.
The meeting, set to start at 11 a.m., was abruptly interrupted by the sound of an explosion. “I saw a huge fire,” Kruglov recounted. The blast occurred roughly 30 meters from where they were gathered, and as employees rushed to extinguish the flames, a second explosion followed. Realizing that further strikes were likely, they initiated an evacuation.
The attack utilized jet-powered Shahed drones, a recent and more sophisticated development in Russian drone technology, which are faster and more challenging to intercept than previous models. These drones have recently caused havoc in Kyiv, targeting various locations, including the National Academy of Sciences and an operational medical clinic.
“There were fifty employees present that day,” Kruglov remarked regarding the warehouse incident, “and it’s remarkable that no one was injured.”
The combination of the blast, jet fuel, and a warehouse filled with paper resulted in a devastating fire, consuming all the books and destroying 8 million of them. It took firefighters an entire week to gain control over the flames.
Weeks later, smoke still lingered in sections of the warehouse, with the roof appearing unstable and metal beams dangerously warped due to the heat.
Sunlight filtered through the damaged roof, casting light on the devastation. The air was filled with a foul odor that clung to clothing and hair, and everywhere one looked, piles of ruined books were scattered.
In some areas, soaked by firefighters’ water, the pages had turned into a thick, foul-smelling sludge. In others, the remnants were charred but still recognizable as children’s picture books, geography texts, and young-adult novels. Some volumes had become nothing more than bloated piles of blackened pages that crumbled at the touch.
Editorial staff members, visiting the destruction for the first time since the attack, appeared visibly shaken as they encountered pieces of books they had authored or edited. “Witnessing what was created through our intellect, effort, and creativity being ruined by Russia is an indescribable feeling,” Kruglov, a fit, bald man in his 60s with blue eyes, expressed.
The loss of 8 million books represented over 85% of Ranok’s inventory. Despite the main branch of Ranok’s Knyholand bookstore in Kyiv still maintaining a vibrant display in late September, Kruglov predicted a shortage of books this autumn when the current stock dwindles without replacements.
This summer has seen a total of 13 million Ukrainian books destroyed by Russian attacks, amounting to an estimated one-third of all books printed in Ukraine this year, according to government estimates.
The significance of books, literature, culture, and language is intrinsically linked to Russia’s war against Ukraine. The full-scale invasion that began in February 2022 was partially driven by Vladimir Putin’s belief that Ukraine lacks a distinct cultural identity separate from Russia.
Kruglov firmly believes that his warehouse filled with Ukrainian-language books was a deliberate target. “It is located far from any military installations, and it is widely known as a book warehouse,” he stated.
Bohdana Laiuk, a Ukrainian deputy minister for culture focusing on literature and publishing, offers a slightly different perspective, arguing that recent attacks on book warehouses should be viewed in the context of a broader campaign targeting various depots and fulfillment centers. “They are unable to occupy Kyiv,” she noted. “Therefore, they strike at warehouses around the city to undermine our daily lives—books are a vital part of that.”
Books not only represent language but are also tied to identity and often nationhood. Laiuk emphasized that books are indeed significant to the Russian invaders. “When Russians occupy an area, the first action they take—evidenced by experiences in regions like Kherson and Kharkiv that were occupied and later liberated in 2022—is to raid libraries and destroy Ukrainian language books,” she explained.
Prior to 2022, about 70% of the Ukrainian book market consisted of Russian-language titles, predominantly imported from Russia or published within Ukraine.
This dominance of Russian publishing has deep historical roots, stemming from 19th-century imperial decrees that restricted Ukrainian publishing and continuing through the Soviet era, which favored Russian as the language of education, culture, and aspiration. Ukrainian authors were marginalized, and Ukrainian literature remained largely overlooked in favor of the Russian literary canon.
After gaining independence in 1991, the notion of a commercially successful Ukrainian-language novel addressing contemporary social issues was so far-fetched that publishers initially recommended Oksana Zabuzhko’s 1996 novel, “Fieldwork in Ukrainian Sex,” be translated into Russian. She insisted it be published in the original language, resulting in a bestseller that paved the way for a resurgence of contemporary Ukrainian literature.
Laiuk characterized the current situation as a crucial moment for Ukrainian literature, emphasizing the need to preserve and promote cultural identity amidst the ongoing conflict.
