The Lights Are Out in Kyiv, and 'Resilience' Is Just a Polite Word for Suffering


I have grown to hate the word "resilience." You hear it all the time now. Turn on your television, and there is a news anchor with perfect hair and a warm studio, talking about the "incredible resilience" of the people in Kyiv. They say it with a smile, as if freezing in the dark is some sort of character-building exercise or a new fitness trend. It sounds noble, doesn’t it? But let us be honest about what is actually happening. "Resilience" is just a fancy, polite word the rest of the world uses so we don't have to feel too guilty about watching half a million people run for their lives because their heaters stopped working.
Here is the reality of the situation, stripped of the diplomatic poetry. Russia has decided that if it cannot win on the battlefield with tanks and soldiers, it will simply turn off the switch. It is the strategy of a bully on a playground who realizes he is losing the game, so he decides to burn down the entire school. In recent weeks, the attacks on Ukraine’s energy grid have ramped up to a level that is frankly absurd. We are watching a modern, industrial country being forced back into the Stone Age, not by a natural disaster, but by the deliberate choices of men in suits who look at a map and see a board game.
Kyiv is currently facing one of the harshest winters in recent memory. Nature, in its infinite cruelty, has decided to team up with the artillery. The temperatures are dropping, the snow is falling, and the power plants are smoking ruins. The report says that almost half a million residents have fled the capital. Think about that number. Half a million. That is not a small crowd; that is the population of a decent-sized city packing their bags and leaving their homes because the alternative is turning into an ice sculpture in their own living room.
And for those who stay? They are left with what the news calls "intermittent" power. That is a nice way of saying they have no idea when the lights will turn on, or if the water coming out of the tap will be liquid or solid. They are living without reliable heat, electricity, or water for days on end. This is life in a European capital in the 21st century. We have smartphones that can talk to satellites and cars that drive themselves, but we still have not figured out how to stop grown men from blowing up power stations because they are having a temper tantrum over borders.
It is deeply ironic to watch the global response to this. The politicians in the West hold press conferences. They wear serious faces. They talk about "solidarity." Solidarity is a wonderful thing, truly. But solidarity does not boil water. Solidarity does not keep a baby warm when the temperature inside the apartment drops below freezing. The residents of Kyiv are being asked to survive a test that no human being should have to take, all while the geopolitical giants play their slow, grinding game of chess using real people as pawns.
What strikes me the most is the sheer inefficiency of this brutality. The goal of these attacks is supposed to be to break the spirit of the people. But history—if anyone actually bothered to read it—shows that freezing people usually just makes them angry. It doesn't make them surrender; it makes them stubborn. Yet, here we are, watching the same script play out again. The missiles fly, the transformers explode, the lights go out, and the people suffer. It is a theater of the absurd, directed by incompetence and starring millions of unwilling extras.
The energy infrastructure is the target because it is the lifeblood of modern life. Without it, the city stops. The elevators don't work. The internet dies. The fridge warms up. The heater goes cold. It exposes just how fragile our "civilized" world actually is. We think we are so advanced, so secure. But it only takes a few well-placed explosives to remind us that we are all just a few degrees away from struggling to survive like our ancestors did in caves. The difference is, our ancestors didn't have to worry about incoming missiles while they shivered.
So, the next time you hear a politician or a pundit praise the "resilience" of Kyiv, do not nod along. Do not feel good about the human spirit. Feel angry. Understand that what you are looking at is a massive failure of the global order. You are watching a major city being dismantled wire by wire, pipe by pipe, while the rest of the world watches on high-definition screens, warm and comfortable, marveling at how tough those freezing people look.
This story is an interpreted work of social commentary based on real events. Source: France 24