The Ukrainian Verkhovna Rada passed a law that removes Russian from the list of languages protected by the Charter of Regional or Minority Languages. Previously, the Ukrainian government had made several attempts to push for this law, but the Verkhovna Rada withdrew the bill twice.

To understand why Ukraine has a problem with the Russian language, we need to look back at its historical burdens. During the Soviet era, Russian was the lingua franca in Ukraine, suppressing local languages. After independence, Ukraine has been trying to reclaim its linguistic sovereignty.

After the 2014 Crimea incident, the relationship between the two countries was completely severed, and the push for de-Russification became politically correct. After the outbreak of conflict in 2022, this momentum surged even more, with street signs in Russian being changed almost entirely.

This legislation to remove the protective status of the Russian language essentially aims to downgrade Russian to an ordinary foreign language, on par with English and German, no longer enjoying any special privileges.

However, the implementation of this is quite delicate. Ukraine claims it is for the protection of local languages, but the newly added Hebrew, Crimean Tatar, and others have fewer speakers than Russian users combined.

Data shows that nearly 30% of Ukraine's population still communicates in Russian daily, especially in the eastern and southern regions.

With so many people suddenly deprived of their language rights, the local populace is clearly unhappy. Protests have erupted in Kharkiv and Odesa, with elderly individuals holding banners saying "Don't take away our mother tongue," leading to some difficult scenes.

What’s even more absurd is Ukraine's handling of the Moldovan language. The official language of Moldova is actually Romanian, but Ukraine fabricated a "Moldovan language" to include it in the list, and now has acted to remove it, which has left many confused.

Linguists have long criticized this as a political game, with no relation to linguistics. Ukraine's actions are likely an attempt to curry favor with Moldova, especially as the two countries have been getting closer recently, even establishing a grain export corridor together.

The legal text is quite meticulous, stating that the protection scope for other minority languages remains unchanged while adding several new ones. However, a closer examination reveals that the newly added Urum and Karaim languages may not have enough speakers in all of Ukraine to fill a soccer field.

This symbolic protection seems more like an attempt to silence the international community, showing that Ukraine is not engaging in language discrimination. The European Union has been closely monitoring Ukraine's language policy and previously warned against violating minority protection agreements.

The Russian response was intense, accusing Ukraine of "linguistic genocide." Russian Foreign Ministry spokesperson Zakharova declared that this is an outright persecution of Russian speakers and threatened to take the matter to the European Court of Human Rights.

Ukraine is not backing down either; the Minister of Culture retorted that it has "finally rid itself of the colonial language shackles." The two sides have engaged in a war of words, turning the language issue into a political bargaining chip.

The actual impact may be greater than anticipated. Ukrainian Russian-language media are the first to be hit; previously, they could rely on charter protection, but now they may face large-scale revisions or closures.

The education system faces more challenges, as Russian schools will either have to transform or shut down, leading to mass unemployment for teachers and parents needing to find new schools for their children. Parents in Kyiv have complained online that their children, who were taught in Russian from a young age, suddenly need to switch entirely to Ukrainian, feeling like they are starting elementary school all over again.

The business sector is also suffering. Many companies in eastern Ukraine conduct business with Russia, signing contracts entirely in Russian. Now, with this legal change, those contracts may face invalidation risks, leading to unquantifiable economic losses. Business associations estimate that just translation and legal consulting costs could set small and medium-sized enterprises back several million hryvnias.

International observers generally feel that Ukraine's move is too abrupt. Language identity takes time to cultivate, and forcefully switching will only exacerbate social divisions.

Hungary and Romania have already expressed concerns, fearing for the rights of minorities in Ukraine. There are also differing voices within NATO, suggesting that Ukraine should prioritize frontline combat rather than implement policies that could provoke internal strife.

Interestingly, among the newly protected languages, Crimean Tatar has drawn significant attention. This ethnic group was forcibly relocated during the Soviet era, and Ukraine has been trying to compensate them since independence.

The decision to specifically include Crimean Tatar is clearly an attempt to win over the Tatars and counter Russia's influence in Crimea. The political calculations are evident, but the actual effectiveness remains uncertain.

Linguists point out that Ukraine's current approach is somewhat overreaching. True language revival should rely on cultural appeal rather than administrative coercion. The Baltic states also pursued de-Russification, but they did so gradually and with adequate supporting measures. Ukraine’s one-size-fits-all method appears effective in the short term but could backfire in the long run, prompting Russian speakers to develop a backlash.

Since the law was passed, visible changes have already appeared on the streets of Ukraine. Russian bookstores in Kyiv have quietly changed their signs to operate in Ukrainian or bilingual formats. Russian prompts on public transport signs have been removed, revealing faded traces of Ukrainian underneath. These subtle changes seem to silently narrate the country’s identity anxiety.

The future direction is hard to predict. If the conflict persists, Ukraine may further tighten its language policy, potentially even banning Russian in public spaces completely. But if the situation eases, for the sake of domestic stability, it may also relax some of these measures. After all, language is alive and cannot be completely erased by legal texts. As Ukrainian writer Andrey Kurkov said: "You can ban a language, but you cannot stop people from thinking and dreaming in that language."