President Zelenskyy: Peace Is A Huge Compromise, The Horrific Atrocities Of Russian War Crimes!

President Zelensky, I wanted to begin with the human question, rather than geopolitics: how are you, really? You carry a country at war, a family, and the stories of people who have lost everything. Is there a day when hope rises, and another when it falls?

It is hard. I am living through this with my country, and every day carries the question of whether tomorrow arrives. But I cannot answer except yes. I am tied to my family, my relatives, my people. Parents who lose a child carry pain far greater than mine. Still, I believe good wins. Truly, I do.

The playground image is impossible to forget: a missile arrived so quickly that the warning could not save people. What does a scene like that do to you?

It is terrifying. Children go to shelters at night, and some have never known peace. I do not sleep much; I message air-defense teams about what is needed and where protection can move. The hardest moments are awarding parents whose child died serving Ukraine. A strong father may only ask quietly for a hug. I am human. I am not ashamed of tears. My children keep me grounded.

Before the presidency and war, you were a boy from Kryvyi Rih: trained in law, writing comedy, acting, building a media company, even voicing Paddington. How did that life lead toward politics?

I came from an ordinary family, not rich. My father was a professor, an honest man. Education, being raised properly, and my parents’ love are enough reasons to thank them. I was mainly a writer who sometimes acted. The show about a teacher becoming president was not a secret calculation. Crimea and Donbas changed the feeling in our country and inside me. The public mood and my determination met.

You place the war’s beginning in 2014, with Crimea’s occupation. For someone young, what is the simplest history behind Putin’s view?

The Soviet Union was an empire, holding peoples through control, not freedom. When it collapsed, nations wanted their language, culture, choices, and future. Ukraine is one of them. Putin’s nostalgia is for rebuilding that empire, and Ukraine matters enormously to it. He used language as a pretext. It was not true. He began with Crimea and the east because division was easier. We did not resist Crimea firmly enough; he learned Ukraine could be taken without a real response.

Then came February 2022: warnings, satellite images, troops near the borders, and Russian denials. Where were you when it became real?

I did not believe there would be an invasion on that scale. We asked partners: if the risk is real, give us weapons and sanctions before, not afterward. In the night missiles began. I told my wife and children that war had started, that I loved them, and went to the office. Life became completely different in that instant.

Russia attacked from several directions, including Belarus, with Kyiv as the target. How did Ukraine stop what looked impossible?

Our strongest units were in the east; we did not have enough soldiers near Kyiv. But people volunteered and mobilized. Russia cut food and water and expected panic. They wanted me to surrender authority and leave. I sent that idea away, very clearly. President Biden offered evacuation; I said I needed weapons, not transport. I worked from the bunker, called leaders, and went outside so people could see I had not run away.

At first there was no time to be frightened: calls, logistics, roads, food, water, military decisions. Hostomel was crucial. Their plan was to seize airports and supply routes, creating chaos if leadership fled. Our people prevented them from landing the force they needed. Putin underestimated one basic thing: Ukraine is not Russia. People defended towns and made Kyiv impossible to hold.

When the towns around Kyiv were liberated, Bucha changed the meaning of the war. Why is compromise so painful after what was found?

Bucha was my hardest day. Bodies lay in streets; there were bound hands, torture, mass graves, children, adults, elderly people. I told journalists to come before anything moved, because the world had to see. I understood a new feeling: revenge. A ceasefire is already an enormous compromise for people who lost children. Peace cannot mean forgetting. There must be justice and punishment, or the wound and danger remain.

And amid all this, there is your family: your wife, children growing up in war, and a mother who calls until you answer. What cannot be postponed?

You become lonely in war, even surrounded by people. When I hug my family, it means there are people who love me; that matters more than before. My wife and I support each other. My mother may leave twelve missed calls, then ask when Putin will stop the war. Children across Ukraine have grown up too fast. I believe peace will come. My wish for America is strength without hunger for war: people working, praying, sitting with children, having dinner at home. We are grateful, and we will remember it.