Trump Fuels Ukrainian Fears War Crimes Will Go Unpunished

Three years have passed since Russia’s violent occupation of Bucha, but for those who survived, the pain and trauma remain raw.
Orthodox priest Andriy Galavin stands solemnly next to a memorial erected on the grounds of his church, where hundreds of victims were buried during the occupation. For the people of Bucha, the massacre is not just a memory; it’s an open wound, one that cries out for justice.
Galavin’s church, once a refuge for the dead, is now a powerful symbol of both mourning and defiance. The priest, who personally oversaw the burial of over 100 victims, is haunted by the faces of those who perished—more than 400 lives lost during the occupation, each one a story of unimaginable suffering.
His faith in the possibility of true justice is being tested, particularly as US President Donald Trump’s outreach to the Kremlin raises fears that Ukraine’s quest for accountability might be sidelined in favor of a rushed peace deal.
“Peace can be forced, peace can be imposed, but without justice, it is nothing more than a hollow word,” Galavin asserts, his voice filled with a deep resolve. “The wound will never heal until those responsible are held accountable.”
The church, with its golden Orthodox icons, bears witness to a collection of chilling photographs—captured by AFP photographers—that document the horrors that unfolded in Bucha.
The images show the lifeless bodies of civilians, sprawled across the streets, victims of a senseless and brutal war. Galavin, who knows each of their names, also reburied many of the victims after Bucha was liberated.
One such victim was Volodymyr Brovchenko, a man who was shot while returning a bicycle to his workplace. His widow, Svitlana, has held on to the faintest glimmer of hope for justice. “Trump isn’t forever,” she says firmly, holding out hope that the perpetrators will be brought to trial. She insists on a public trial, believing it’s vital for the world to see the true cost of war—and the faces of those who bring it.
In the aftermath of Russia’s invasion, Ukrainian authorities have launched over 128,000 war crimes investigations, aiming to bring perpetrators to justice.
The International Criminal Court (ICC) has issued arrest warrants for Russian President Vladimir Putin and other high-ranking military officials for their role in the atrocities.
But the road to justice remains uncertain. Trump’s administration has imposed sanctions on the ICC and significantly cut funding for US-led initiatives to track down war criminals. This has left many Ukrainians feeling that the international community’s resolve to pursue justice may be weakening.
The situation has only been complicated further by nations like Mongolia, which turned a blind eye to the ICC’s arrest warrant during a state visit with Putin last year. Maryna Slobodyanuk, an investigator for the Ukrainian organization Truth Hounds, sees this as a dangerous precedent. “It’s a troubling message,” she says. “It gives aggressors the freedom to act with impunity.”
Despite these obstacles, groups dedicated to justice remain undeterred. The Tribunal for Putin, a coalition of NGOs that includes the Nobel Peace Prize-winning Centre for Civil Liberties, has identified over 12,000 deaths connected to potential war crimes.
Their mission is simple: to ensure that the victims’ stories are not lost in the shuffle, and to prevent future atrocities by holding Russia accountable.
Oleksandra Matviichuk, head of the Centre for Civil Liberties, remains confident that justice will eventually prevail. “This is one of the most documented wars in history,” she says with unwavering conviction. “Even if the international community lacks the political will today, we will seize the opportunity when the moment arrives.”
For Galavin, though, the fight for justice is intensely personal. As he walks the grounds of his church, which once hosted the ICC’s Chief Prosecutor, he reflects on the painful journey ahead. “Justice is under sanctions,” he says with a heavy heart. “But we cannot allow the survivors to be forgotten. The guns may fall silent, but the pain must be acknowledged.”
In Bucha, as in all of Ukraine, the pursuit of justice is not just about the past—it’s about ensuring that the future is shaped by accountability, not impunity. For those like Galavin, there can be no peace without justice. And that fight is far from over.