Última actualización Jueves, 22/05/2025

In the middle of a war and devastation, the sounds of Ukraine’s folk music have risen as a symbol of resilience and defiance. During Russia’s full-scale invasion, Ukrainian folk music had its renaissance, becoming one of the most popular genres in Ukraine on streaming platforms. Behind these melodies, you can find the hidden history of suppression, distortion, and a battle for identity. Why is Ukrainian folk music making such a striking comeback today, and what does it reveal about Ukrainian people’s journey to rediscover itself?

“Oy u luzi” or “Raise-up” is a song with a remarkable history originating in the 17th century during the Cossacks’ rebellions against Polish oppression in Western Ukraine. It was revived in the 19th century during the Ukrainian National Revival and later sung by the Legion of Ukrainian Sich Riflemen, which was fighting against the Russian army in World War I. The video of Andriy Khlyvnyuk, the frontman of Ukrainian band BoomBox, wearing an army uniform and singing “Oy u luzi” on the first days of the war in the centre of Kyiv became a symbol of Ukrainian resilience. He joined the Ukrainian Armed Forces on the first days of the full-scale invasion and sang a cappella on Sofia Square. Later, Andriy released this song featuring Pink Floyd. One simple yet powerful song became a symbol of resilience through many centuries, adapting to the struggles of each generation yet never losing its essence.

However, the process of rediscovering Ukrainian history is far more complex than it may seem.

Act 1. Beginning

Whenever I mention Ukrainian folk music, I usually get one of two reactions. Feedback from foreigners is about Go-A from Eurovision and how good they were. However, young Ukrainians seem to have a common belief that folk music is extremely dull and is for older generations, which has nothing to do with the popular mainstream. But this perception overlooks a much deeper and richer reality.

I want to tell you the true story of Ukrainian folk music and why this style is becoming increasingly popular nowadays.

To begin with, Ukraine has the largest number of traditional songs under UNESCO protection, especially the Cossack songs of the Dnipropetrovsk region, which are listed in UNESCO’s intangible cultural heritage list that requires immediate protection. The communities of Dnipropetrovsk Oblast sing Cossack songs that recount the tragedy of war and share Cossacks’ personal experiences. The main characters talk mostly about their loved ones and how hard it is for them to say goodbye every time they go to the front lines and are never sure they will survive. Before the Soviet Union (USSR), there was a strong tradition of teaching the lyrics of the songs by the older generations to the new ones. These songs were like oral history books, preserving the experiences of those who fought, loved, grieved, lost.

Act 2. Colonial oppression

Then the Soviet regime came. Now, imagine having an empire occupying your lands with a rich culture and songs that celebrate resistance against you. What do you do? You erase and rewrite. That’s how the Soviet authorities perceived Ukrainian traditions in the 20th century. They came up with the brilliant idea of misinterpreting the culture.

Soviet ideologists launched a synthetic process that we now call *sharovarshchyna*. The name comes from historically inaccurate wide red *sharovary* (particular pants) for men. They created a new stereotype of Ukrainians – not too intelligent, poor men from suburbs, preferably from farms, fields in villages who drink horilka (vodka), eat salo (pork fat with skin) and have no connection with the “great” Russian culture (ballet, Dostoyevsky and mysterious Russian soul).

The only culture Ukrainians were allowed to have was their rewritten traditional clothing. Soviet authorities changed historic national embroidered shirts to pseudo-clothing – just a red satin skirt, a neon plastic flower crown adorned with guelder-roses and poppies – creating a caricature of national culture. This artificial image was then promoted as the essence of Ukrainian identity.

In truth, traditional Ukrainian embroidery never featured guelder-roses or poppies, and while Cossacks did wear *sharovary*, they were nothing like the modern stereotype – men dressed according to European fashion.

 

© Photo by Robert  Stoko from Pexels

Women Wearing Traditional Ukrainian Clothes

© Alexander Zvir from Pexels

Traditional Ukrainian Clothes

 

The first picture shows pseudo-culture with neon clothing, which is known as *sharovarshchyna*. The second picture is a restored image of the true national clothing of Ukraine in the early XX century.

Real traditions were stripped away and replaced with cheap imitations fitting the Soviet ideals. Folk festivals became propaganda stages. Everyone wore the same kind of “approved” costumes and performed the same sanitised dances. For smaller groups like the Karelians, this meant quiet assimilation. But Ukrainians, who had a strong cultural voice, were seen as a threat by the Soviet authorities. And so, the pressure was brutal. Ukrainians, regardless of social position, started being killed. Intellectuals were executed, and peasants starved to death. Ethnic heritage was systematically submitted to an elimination process. This wasn’t a cultural exchange. This was an act of control to erase a culture.

Surprisingly, Russians achieved their goals, and over the years Ukrainians ended up accepting the imposed culture – the «great» Russian culture – as an absolute truth. Until 2014, no mainstream ethnographer had searched for Ukrainian origins. And narratives in the media, mainly on television, were the same as in Russian propaganda sources, which tried to erase the mental border between the two nations.

Now historians say that *sharovarshchyna* is the legacy of Russian colonialism. That is the reason why Ukrainian folk music and dances, usually coming from small villages, were not popular and sometimes even something to be ashamed of.

Act 3. Authentic revival

The Soviet Union has been gone for over 30 years, but *sharovarshchyna* clings to Ukraine like a stubborn bandage on an unhealed wound. This fabricated identity still lingers in public consciousness, making it harder for Ukrainians to reconnect with their authentic cultural heritage. But now, more and more people are peeling back those layers, uncovering the truth of who they are and not who they were told to be.

Since the Russian full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022, trends have shifted. Instead of Russian pop songs from TikTok, new Ukrainian folk songs became popular. The revival of Ukrainian authentic music is not just a trend – it is a powerful act of reclaiming identity. What was once dismissed as outdated is now a symbol of resistance, pride, and defiance. And in rediscovering their songs, Ukrainians are rediscovering themselves.

My story with Ukrainian folk music started in my childhood with the old Ukrainian animated cartoon “Жив був пес” (“There was a dog”). It is a story about friendship between a dog and a wolf, but also about the dog’s loyalty to his family. During the wedding ceremony scene at minute 8:20, characters sing the song  “Ой там на горі” with the traditional folk sound that cannot be imitated. That deeply authentic moment stuck with me.

But the Ukrainian national songs have always been with me. I can easily remember my grandma singing songs when collecting berries in the garden or my grandpa singing during family gatherings. Still, I realise I was the exception rather than the rule. Many people started looking into their real history and roots, discovering the true culture and traditions, only after the Russian full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022.

One of the examples of rediscovering Ukrainian music is Jamala’s latest album. Worldwide, she is known for winning Eurovision in 2016. She performed the song “1944” about the deportation of Crimean Tatars. In 2023, Jamala released an album “QIRIM”, which consists of 14 songs that are like 14 pieces of a puzzle to tell the story of the Crimean peninsula, as she said in an interview with “Ukrainska Pravda”. The whole album is a sort of ethnographic reconnaissance of her. Jamala tried to create a musical map of Crimea, her stolen childhood memories.

Another key figure in this modern folk movement is the band Dakha Brakha. Unlike many, they dove deep into the roots of authentic Ukrainian folk from the start. They first became popular abroad, and only recently have they hit the mainstream at home. While performing live, they create a magical world on the stage, hypnotising the crowd. When listening to them, you have a Dakha Brakha paradox – you know they are cool, but you don’t understand why. Their main material is Ukrainian folk, which they use like dough to sculpt whatever they want. And as a filling, they use everything that the soul needs: from rock and hip-hop to tango and blues.

The song Khyma is my recommendation to begin with. It is based on Central Ukrainian folklore, which the band has transformed into the style of an opera aria slipping effortlessly into the rhythm of an Argentine tango. And it still sounds like a Ukrainian folk song.

A more modern artist in Ukrainian folklore is OTOY with the song “Етнокод” (Ethno code). He mixed rap with a true traditional sound. He travelled to Verkhovyna, which is in the heart of the Carpathian Mountains in the West, to record some fragments of songs. He even recorded his grandmother’s singing, he confessed in an interview for Suspilne.

Folk music has always been more than just entertainment. It is a memory, a way to pass down history, emotions, and identity. In times of peace, people may take it for granted. But in wartime, it becomes an essential source of strength and reconnection with one’s roots. In rediscovering the true Ukrainian songs, themselves and retaining their future.

To honour and share this spirit, I created a playlist featuring songs mentioned in this article, along with others I personally recommend. Through these voices and melodies, you can experience the heartbeat of Ukrainian culture that endured, recovered and continues to thrive.

Young Journalists in Europe – Meet the author

Anna Kalenichenko

“I’m a Ukrainian living abroad. Politics and diplomacy guide me in making choices that actually matter right now. Through honest conversations and meaningful actions, I want to be sure we’re building a story we can be proud of and not one we’ll regret.”

Article collaborators: Alexandros Tsianakas, Oliver Čechmánek

 

This article reflects the views of the authors only. The European Commission and Eurodesk cannot be held responsible for it.