This essay examines military metaphors in the narratives of Ukrainian academics displaced as a result of the Russian-Ukrainian War. It explores how metaphorical language, particularly military metaphors, helps narrators express complex emotions, aspirations, and experiences related to war, forced migration, and their understanding of their professional mission in wartime.
Introduction
The source base for our analysis is a collection of 50 interviews with displaced Ukrainian academics, conducted as part of the project “Moving West: Ukrainian Academics in Conditions of Forced Migration (2014–2024).1 The authors of the project are themselves displaced Ukrainian researchers who moved from Kharkiv to Lublin, Poland. Their aim was to share experiences, build a support network among displaced academics, historicize what they were going through, and, most importantly, addressing the deeply felt need to do something meaningful in the face of war.
The focus of this essay is not accidental. Metaphors help express feelings, thoughts, and experiences that might otherwise remain inaccessible to the listener.2 They allow personal experiences to become part of a collective narrative. Researchers also highlight the communicative function of metaphors, emphasizing the importance of understanding the contexts and purposes behind their use Linguist Gerard Steen, for example, introduced the concept of the deliberate metaphor – one used intentionally to shift perception by framing a topic in new terms. While “a bug-out bag” is a conventional metaphor, “a backpack that has my entire life in it” is a deliberate one.3 Therefore, the choice of metaphorical language and specific types of metaphors depends on the speaker’s communicative goals, the nature of the discourse, and the audience.
Military metaphors can either reflect actual war experiences or use military language to describe other phenomena. Analyzing their use helps us to understand how displaced academics process war and how it shapes their lives and self-perception.
The principal metaphorical meanings of war and forced migration could be approached through the dichotomy of war as catastrophe versus war as opportunity. This opposition was directly discussed by three of our interviewees in their responses to the question about the meaning of their war experience. One of them cited the use of it by Yaroslav Hrytsak,while another brought up an article she has written, and the third interviewee extrapolated it to her own experience: “I can say that this is both the biggest TRAUMA, it seems like… in my li-, well, one of the biggest, and the biggest OPPORTUNITY”.
War as Catastrophe
In the narratives of displaced academics, war as a catastrophe is primarily represented by metaphors that try to paint the start of the war as a rupture of experience and of the normal course of life, the end of the old reality with its ideas, knowledge, and plans, and the beginning of a completely new reality.
This rupture is characterized primarily by unpredictability, by respondents’ unpreparedness for the war, which was often described as a state of shock, accompanied by bodily metaphors of forced awareness of events: “I was forced to BELIEVE”, “you couldn’t yet put together in your brain there that the war had already begun”.
We expected that there would be a war, but as always when you expect something very terrible it still comes unexpectedly.
From the interviews with displaced Ukrainian scholars
Unpreparedness for the war as a fact of autobiography could be perceived as a failing that calls into question a scholar’s ability to think critically and predict events, and sometimes even could be interpreted as a sign of professional incompetence. Therefore, in our interviewees’ stories, themes related to “waiting for war” gained special significance – and they were also worked out metaphorically. Some respondents described it in terms of their own mental state as “premonitions of war”, “getting yourself worked up”, or “semi-conscious understanding”. Others spoke of the state of society as a whole as “heating up”, “changes in the air”, “tension in the atmosphere”. However, even those who had foreseen the war and prepared for it stressed the meaning of the war as a sharp break: “…WE EXPECTED that there would be a war, but as always when you expect something very terrible it still comes unexpectedly”.
When trying to describe their initial actions and the period of adaptation to the new reality after the start of the war, interviewees often resorted to metaphors that also clearly represent the war as a catastrophic rupture. Particularly dramatic were descriptions of realities by respondents from occupied or threatened territories – they spoke of an unreal life in which people became ghosts: “life has STOPPED, it is all hanging in some kind of SUSPENDED pause”.
But for academics who were in safer conditions, including abroad, the first days also passed “as if in a fog”. They described this experience using the metaphors of “abyss”, “loss of the everyday routine”, “everyday life that has broken down”, or “non-acceptance of reality”. They characterized their actions as mechanical acts and mechanical tasks, “active apathy”. Life was represented as a “blank sheet” when compared to the plans that had been there just the day before. Attempts to make sense of the situation by following the news did not fix anything, but were perceived in hindsight as “life lost”, as a period of “zombification”.
The important meaning of war as a catastrophe was conveyed through the themes of the respondents’ traumatic loss of autonomy in the new wartime reality. First and foremost, they made a point of stressing the forced nature of their migration. Some did this through stories about “chances to get a toehold” – opportunities to leave even before the start of the full-scale war, which they had not taken advantage of because they did not want to leave Ukraine. The inability to act according to one’s own will also stem from a conflict between civic and family duties. Leaving Ukraine was depicted as a forced act, through metaphors of pressure, acting on other people’s decisions, and as doing things for the sake of the children. And at the opposite pole, we find a metaphorization of patriotic and civic feelings. For many narrators, the experience of leaving was accompanied by a deep sense of guilt – “burden”, “weight on the chest”, or even a feeling of “betrayal”. At the intersection of this value conflict arises a trauma of guilt, which is layered on top of other traumatic experiences of the war: “My husband pressured me, well I guess not pressured me, that is, I could have decided for myself, that’s how it was, a bit painful […] now it sounds a bit over the top but, that=that the impression was that I LEFT my people there, to live their life, and I chose a more comfortable life”.
War as a catastrophe also has in our respondents’ narratives a future-oriented dimension. On the one hand, displaced academics stressed their intention to return to Ukraine. On the other hand, they reflected on past working conditions and future prospects of Ukrainian academia through metaphors of survival and struggle for life: “skills to live in a state of uncertainty”, “carrying all the work on your shoulders”, “a double life working two jobs”, “the survival of universities”, “people who were left behind”, “the bleeding out of universities”. One interviewee used the word “system” to describe her university. This word occurs 12 times in her interview in different contexts – “the system that must be fought against,” that can traumatize, that can “beat you down”, “the system as a trap,” the system that will have the last word and that may not let you back in. The instability in Ukrainian academia caused by displacement, and the uncertainty of the prospects for future development as the war goes on, emerged as important issues that respondents wanted to highlight through metaphorization. On the other hand, interviewees usually did not reflect on the precariousness of their position in Western academia. This indicates that maintaining connections with Ukrainian academia is critically important for interviewees, but equally vital is fostering a culture in which displaced scholars are seen not as ‚academic losses,‘ but as carriers of valuable experience. It is metaphors that represent the experience of war and migration as an opportunity that are the most pertinent to this latter task.
War as Opportunity
The tension between war as catastrophe and as opportunity emerged repeatedly in the interviews. Within this tension, the role of metaphor is most evident: it enables a move from narratives of trauma to the articulation of new perspectives and meanings.
War and migration were perceived as an opportunity in the context of personal growth, through testing the abilities of displaced academics and, despite all the difficulties, making them stronger. It is no coincidence that interviewees often resorted to military metaphors. Finding themselves in a new reality, they described their experience through images of “rebirth”, for the sake of which they had to “marshal the strength”, “mobilize life” and resources, or “find reserves”.
While the experience of war was often interpreted as traumatic and “unnecessary,” as a kind of “postponement of life into the future”, the experienceof migration, despite its emotional difficulty and its metaphorical interpretation as “losing one’s reality”, carried a potential for positive transformation. Life abroad could be represented as “another life” and even “several new lives”. The relocation was sometimes described as an opportunity to “step out of one’s comfort zone” and an “experience of growing up,” as opposed to “going with the flow”. It contributed to personal growth and the rethinking of the importance of life values. It made one aware of the unimportance of material “things as dust”, and the priority of relationships. Interestingly, respondents extrapolated these personal changes to all Ukrainian refugees abroad. They asserted that refugees in general, through the experience of migration, “had matured mentally” and become “different,” capable of bringing “fresh wind” to Ukrainian institutions and public life, because they were ready to “not put up with” the unfortunate realities of Ukrainian life.
Intellectual work became particularly important at the initial stage of migration – it not only allowed one to “switch out”, “filled one’s head”, and became “a strategy to not go crazy”, but also potentially gave a sense of continuity and became a guarantee of inner stability: “When there was connection, that’s when I slowly started in some kind of research work, convincing myself that, like, this was not the end of the world, that one must WORK”.
It is interesting that, despite its traumatic nature, many respondents recognized the professional value of their personal experience of war, seeing it as significant and even unique for a historian (“you are FIRST a historian and then a person”), as an opportunity to be “in the thick of events”. One interlocutor repeatedly used the metaphors of “time machine”, “time travel”, and “déjà vu”, comparing her own experiences with sources from the World War Two era and stressing her journey towards a deeper, more self-conscious understanding of past events. So, respondents’ desire to make sense of the present through the prism of professional expertise and the will to integrate experiences into their professional autobiography became part of their wartime strategy of resilience.
The opportunities to resume their work when abroad and the powerful movement of support and solidarity from the European academic community became very important. Such opportunities were perceived as a great “credit of trust” that “put us back on our feet”, but most importantly, they gave meaning to the respondents’ stay and activities in their host countries. These activities were often viewed metaphorically as a duty to “represent Ukraine”, to be “the face of Ukraine”, to “convey [information] about Ukraine”, to “help the image of Ukraine”, to “be the voice of Ukraine”, and to work towards “revealing Ukraine to the world”. The ultimate purpose was to inform the European community about the war in Ukraine and ensure continued cooperation. It is no coincidence that respondents called such work a “struggle on the information front”, a “pro-Ukrainian campaign”, “one’s own sector in the battle”. Military metaphors extended to both professional work such as calling a museum project “a good shot” and public roles, where historical knowledge was framed as an “instrument of [national] security,” social media activity as “being a mouthpiece” or a “cyber army,” and even migration itself as “feats of valor.” This helped interviewees embed their personal stories in the broader discourse of resistance to Russian aggression and frame their role as part of the war effort beyond the frontlines, while also easing feelings of guilt toward those who remained (“heroes,” “persons of titanic stature”).
Interestingly, in their narratives the invasion was represented as a threat not only to Ukraine’s freedom, but also to the future of democracy in Europe. When asked about the motives behind the unprecedented support from Europeans, our interlocutors cited not only humanitarian and Christian reasons but also historical fears, particularly in those countries that had once been in the orbit of the USSR. They spoke about the fear of “repeating history” and a deep awareness on the part of the peoples of the former Warsaw Pact of the threat that if “Ukraine falls,” then “they will be next.” In this context, our interviewees often metaphorically describe Ukraine’s role as an “umbrella for Europe,” a “checkpoint,” an “outpost,” or a “buffer.”
This is now such our, our mission today for those who are in Europe from the academic community, it’s… to maintain and create Ukraine’s weight here.
From the interviews with displaced Ukrainian scholars
The prospects of cooperation with the European academic community were also seen as key for the future development of Ukrainian science and scholarship, which two respоndents described as “parochial”. One interlocutor argued that it was important from the national security point of view to overcome the “limited horizons” and reorient Ukraine from the Russian to the European academic space – and that starting this process even before the full-scale invasion had in fact “prevented us from finding ourselves on the edge of the abyss”. This important task of reorienting Ukrainian science for the sake of future development shaped the view of Western academia as partners and fostered a deep sense of gratitude rather than criticism toward the humanitarian character of academic solidarity. The role of displaced Ukrainian scholars was to prove that Ukrainians are reliable partners, effectively connecting, “anchoring” European researchers to Ukraine: “and this is now such our, our mission today for those who are in Europe from the academic community, it’s… to maintain and create Ukraine’s weight here, so that, we can continue to cooperate with it”.
Respondents also stressed that this is not just a matter of passive adaptation to Western models, but really a two-way street, which also presupposes the openness of the West to Ukrainian academic experience: “we need to involve not only Ukraine with the West, but also the West with Ukraine”. Our interlocutors showed the will to defend the practice of communicating with European academics on an equal footing, which was also interpreted metaphorically. One interviewee recalled the words of Erich Maria Remarque (“from… an INSULT you can protect yourself, but from sympathy – no way”) and drew parallels between her own desire for equal collaboration and Ukraine’s need for military aid: “well… then don’t pity, you need to see us as full partners, give us weapons! How can you pity a person wh=who needs weapons, I don’t get it!”
Thus, seeing professional potential as a weapon reinforced the sense of professionalduty as a particular mode of resistance available to academics. “I don’t have experience in combat, but I do have experience in teaching, that’s what I can do,” said one interviewee who had initially attempted to join territorial defense but later found herself teaching Ukrainian language and literature at a German university.
Conclusion
Metaphorization allowed our interviewees to articulate the complex, almost inexpressible experience of living through war as one of rupture, and to explain the multilayered nature of their trauma. Metaphors helped them present their role as part of a broader experience of participation in the war beyond the frontlines and to show that Ukrainian scholarship and education are spaces of struggle for the future that require active defense. At the same time, seeing the war as both catastrophe and opportunity creates constant tension. Metaphors make it possible to speak of losses while also opening perspectives of agency, professional mission, and a new type of subjectivity. This reframes displacement from forced withdrawal into an alternative form of wartime participation. In a broader sense, these narratives fit into the discourse of cultural and intellectual diplomacy, which increasingly shapes the notion of another “front” of the war. The analysis of such metaphors reveals not only strategies of individual survival but also the potential of Ukrainian academia to act as an agent of change and a partner in shaping the future, both in Ukraine and globally.
- “Moving West”: Ukrainian Academics in Conditions of Forced Migration (2014–2024). URL: http://historiography.karazin.ua/en/ruh-na-zahid-ukrainski-vcheni-v-umovah-vimushenoi-migratsii-2014-2022.html; Іващенко В.Ю., Кісельова Ю.А. Усноісторичний проєкт «Рух на захід»: Українські науковці в умовах вимушеної міграції (2014–2024). Питання методології дослідження, Вісник Харківського університету імені В.Н. Каразіна. Серія: Історія. 2024, 65, C.199-227. [↩]
- Lakoff G., Johnson M. (1980). Metaphors we live by. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. [↩]
- Steen G. (2008). The Paradox of Metaphor: Why We Need a Three-Dimensional Model of Metaphor. Metaphor and Symbol 23(4): 213-241. [↩]
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