Ukraine and Ukrainians in the Panels: Global Comics Perspectives on the War
By Svitlana Pidoprygora
Comics, originally a form of popular entertainment, have evolved in the twentieth century into a medium for reflecting and shaping societal and political landscapes. Pioneering works like Art Spiegelman’s Maus (1986) underscored the potential of comics to document and interpret traumatic realities, merging visual and narrative elements to convey “information that isn’t easily articulated through words” (Pratt 2023). Russian aggression against Ukraine in 2014 and the subsequent full-scale invasion in 2022 have brought Ukrainian issues to international headlines and sparked extensive reflections in various genres of fiction and non-fiction, with documentary comics and graphic reportages being no exception.
The international attention given to Ukrainian topics in comics is remarkable, with authors from diverse countries such as the United States of America, Italy, France, Poland, Canada, Germany, Spain, Brazil, Sweden, Finland, Argentina, Belgium.[1] International authors bring varied perspectives to Ukrainian historical and contemporary issues, striving to explain to their audience what is happening right now – why there is war, why the Russian Federation (hereinafter RF) attacked Ukraine. I am focusing on arguably the most significant documentary comics that emerged after the beginning of the full-scale invasion and primarily focus on depicting the war experience. Italian artist Igort (Igor Tuveri) captures the invasion’s harrowing details in How War Begins: Dispatches from the Ukrainian Invasion [2] (2022). Similarly, Diaries of War: Two Visual Accounts from Ukraine and Russia [3] (2023), the work of the German author Nora Krug, who now lives in the US, and the American comic artist Don Brown’s 83 Days in Mariupol: A War Diary (2023) provide visual narratives that resonate with audiences on a global scale. These accomplished artists are known for exploring sensitive historical themes and social issues through documentary comics.[4] Also worth mentioning is the debut by young Italian comic artist Pietro B. Zemelo in this genre, Girasoli d’Ucraina. In fuga dall’invasione [Sunflowers of Ukraine: fleeing from the invasion] [5] (2023). Notably, the narratives in the comics by Igort, Nora Krug, and Pietro B. Zemelo are enriched by the authors’ personal experiences with Ukraine and Ukrainians through family ties, prior visits or direct encounters during the initial days of the full-scale invasion. Significantly, Igort’s and Krug’s narrative constructions are moreover influenced by their familiarity with the Russian information space, including their knowledge of Russian history and culture, their understanding of the context provided by Russian news, and their personal connections with individuals in Russia.
In this essay, I will delve into several key aspects of how these comics depict Russia’s war against Ukraine. In the first paragraph, I will focus on how genre serves as a lens through which authors model the realities of war and the visceral war experience. In the second paragraph, I will examine the authors’ representation of Ukrainians. Additionally, I will explore how these narratives reflect the global traditions of representing war. In the third paragraph, I will analyze the authors’ approaches to stereotypes and propagandistic narratives surrounding Ukrainian history and the current war.
Genre as a Lens on War
Artists interpreting the war often turn to documentation, striving to depict the realities of events, yet their work is inevitably shaped by their artistic vision and general worldview. The cartoonists under analysis enrich their documentary comics with elements of reportage and diaries – formats that allow to combine personal experiences with news coverage into one narrative.

The tradition of incorporating journalistic elements into comics underscores the evolution of this narrative technique. Beginning with Herge’s The Adventures of Tintin reportage, the tendency to include current affairs has grown, often inspired by high-profile and sometimes tragic events (McKinney 2020, 308). Joe Sacco[6] filled the comic medium with complex socio-political issues. In the works by Herge and Sacco, the journalist as a main narrator is not merely an observer but actively participates in the unfolding events. Similarly, іn Girasoli d’Ucraina, Zemelo portrays himself as a character (also a cartoonist) documenting his family’s experiences during the onset of the war. His girlfriend, Lisa Glazunova, is Ukrainian, and the story follows their journey as they flee Ukraine, detailing the challenges they encounter and the author’s personal reactions to these hardships. In the other comics, the authors choose another approach to make their presence felt within the narrative. They provide commentary on the visual narrative from a distance, and the narrative often shifts from the character’s point of view to that of the author, who uses the first-person perspective.
The diary format of comics also inherently follows a specific chronology in organizing events. In How War Begins: Dispatches from the Ukrainian Invasion, Igort illustrates the war’s onset with a calendar page, marking the very day of the invasion. Similarly, Zemelo provides a countdown to the war’s beginning. Don uses a strict calendar-based chronology the black-and-white sketches to emphasize key movements and pivotal events. Krug organizes her narrative into weekly segments. This variation in timekeeping adds layers of structure to each work and conveys the persistence of time in a context where daily life is constantly destabilized. This chronology loses its linearity when the narrative delves into the authors’ personal experiences, memories of the comics’ characters, and historical flashbacks.
In the introductions, each author also establishes the perspective from which the story is told. Igort initiates the narrative with a poignant declaration: “Every war is a dirty war. Nothing epic, no glory: only misery” (Igort 2022, 6). This opening is visualized through the iconic Soviet sculpture Worker and Kolkhoz Woman, set against a red background. (Fig. 1) The monument depicted is known as a symbol of the unity of Soviet people under the emblem of the hammer and sickle. However, reducing this image to a mere representation of past affiliations oversimplifies its broader implications.

This imagery does not only tie Ukraine to its Soviet-influenced past; it also suggests that the current events are in many ways the aftershocks of its Soviet history. Another layer of significance is revealed by the history of the monument itself. Originally crafted for the 1937 World’s Fair in Paris, it stood as a counterpart to a Nazi symbol, thus representing two clashing totalitarian states. This historical backdrop suggests a complex interplay of past ideologies that continue to influence present realities. In the beginning, Igort shares his personal connection with Russian culture: his family’s interest in Russian literature and music with references to figures like Nikolai Gogol and Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, and the concept of “Great Mother Russia.” The author reflects on his own sense of disillusionment, lamenting, “How can I imagine the army of a land so dear to me treading the soil of another…?” This opening captures Igort’s inner conflict and empathy, setting the tone for an attempt to understand both sides.
Krug explicitly signals her intention to portray parallel experiences of Ukraine and Russia directly in the title. In the introduction, she states: “My objective is not to create a space for reconciliation or to equalize the Russian and Ukrainian experiences, to victimize the Russian side, or to tell the story of a ‘good Russian’. Rather, the project’s goal is to document the stark contrast between two narratives… by placing them in direct proximity to each other on the page” (Krug 2023, 9). This side-by-side layout became a powerful storytelling device.
Representation of Ukrainian Characters: Civilian Perspectives
The narrative structure of 83 Days in Mariupol is influenced by the author’s experience in creating educational graphic novels. (Fig. 2) The work opens with a prologue that explain to the reader the longstanding resistance between Ukraine and Russia rooted in the history of both countries. The work by Zemelo opens with a poignant letter to the reader. The preface underscores a commitment to respect and amplify Ukrainian voices, avoiding the appropriation of their experiences while acknowledging his supportive role.
In the analyzed comics, the focus is primarily on the representation of civilians. Their portrayals can vary, ranging from images that evoke mere sympathy to those that inspire admiration for Ukrainians who endure hardships, maintaining their dignity and humanity even in the face of extreme adversity. The emphasis on civilian suffering reflects a broader trend in global literature and art. Such approach is exemplified by post-World War I and World War II literature[7], moving away from war heroism to war as trauma. It is important to recognize that these influential works were written post-war, during a period of reflection and reevaluation, which allowed for a more comprehensive understanding of the long-term impacts of the wars. A similar trend can be seen in modern comics that often explore shared heritage and history, underlining a mutual desire to understand the experiences of different groups affected by war[8]. By presenting the hardships endured by all sides, these narratives foster a deeper understanding of the universal impacts of war, emphasizing shared human suffering rather than clear divisions between ‘victors’ and ‘victims.’



Igort and Krug apply this narrative framework of shared trauma to the ongoing war in Ukraine and place Ukrainian and Russian experiences side by side, which for me presents certain challenges. I tend to think that such perspective is valid for past wars, where time allows for greater detachment and introspection. While this approach may aim to promote universal understanding and empathy, it overlooks the fundamental asymmetry in the ongoing conflict, where one side is the aggressor and the other is the victim. This approach to depict the war in Ukraine contrasts sharply with what we see in Ukrainian documentary comics (see: Pidoprygora 2022; Pidoprygora 2024).
Returning to the comics themselves, in Igort’s visual storytelling, the static depiction of exhausted faces of -elderly women, children, gaunt men, and weary old men embody the essence of the civilian experience (Fig. 3). Igort’s narrative subtly integrates moments of civilian heroism that have gone viral in social media and news lines (Fig.4). These moments of resilience are not placed at the forefront of the story but woven into the background of the broader narrative of survival.
Igort also portrays the civilians that became militaries. The Ukrainian army in 2014 is depicted as disoriented and unprepared (Igort 2022, 39). In 2022 the situation has not changed greatly – mobilized men depicted bewildered and hesitant. (Igort 2022, 72) (Fig. 5). In exploration of the 2014 events, he omits to mention the defenders of the Donetsk Airport, who earned the moniker ‘cyborgs’ due to their steadfastness and bravery. By excluding this significant aspect of the war, the portrayal misses a critical element of Ukrainian resistance and the complex dynamics of the war. In the other analyzed comics, the representation of Ukrainian civilians underscores their proactive and community-focused response to the war. These narratives vividly illustrate women and men, if not enlisted in the army, engaging in volunteer work. These characters are shown not only prioritizing the safety and well-being of their families but also extending their efforts to support the broader community amid ongoing turmoil.
Stereotypes and Counter-Narratives about Ukraine and Ukrainians
When discussing stereotypes and their role in artistic narratives, I would like to examine the works of the two Italian artists, Igort and Pietro B. Zemelo. (Fig 6.) Each of these artists presents perspectives from different generations on stereotypes, and propagandist narratives.

Igort, as I wrote before, closely ties Ukraine to its Soviet past and frequently references Russian culture, thereby reinforcing the perceived close connection between Ukraine and Russia. He features “The Sad Story of a Russian Soldier Who Wouldn’t Understand,” highlighting a Russian conscript and stating that “there were very young soldiers on both sides, young men who had no desire to kill or die.” Evgeny Myazin realizes that they are being sent to “kill our Ukrainian brothers,” (Igort 2022, 47) and his desire to leave the service tragically ends with his murder. This account also subtly reinforces the narrative of the “two fraternal peoples” often exploited by Russian propaganda.

Igort incorporates maps into his narratives to help non-Ukrainian readers better recognize Ukraine and to depict the advance of Russian forces into Ukraine. Notably, he presents a map of Ukraine that omits Crimea (Igort 2022, 17; 102). (Fig. 7) When addressing Mariupol, he includes Crimea, perhaps aiming to emphasize the continuity of Russian territorial ambitions and interventions in Ukraine (Igort 2022, 84). Alternatively, it could simply be an artistic method of drawing maps, as the omission is parts of Kherson, Zaporizhzhia, and Odesa regions. In documentary comics, the artistic perspective is essential. However, readers should not perceive the text as purely fictional. The omission of Crimea remains significant and opens the door to numerous ambiguous interpretations, leaving readers to question the intentions behind these artistic choices and their alignment with political or ideological positions.
Igort also addresses contentious sensitive topics like Bandera and the Azov Regiment. To enhance the credibility of his narrative, he claims to base his illustrations on real photographs. However, not all of the information that Igort presents as factual should be taken at face value. It is reasonable to assume that many non-Ukrainian readers will not fact-check his claims, which could lead to misunderstandings.

When discussing Bandera, Igort provides biographical details, yet includes an illustration allegedly showing Bandera’s collaboration with the Nazis (Figure 8). The photo, which serves as a base, widely circulated in pro-Russian media, has been debunked as misinformation (Chernova 2022). It actually shows a high-ranking officer of the Nazi military intelligence with a vague resemblance to Bandera (Fig. 9). In order to further emphasize a connection between Bandera and the Nazis, Igort portrays officer against a background featuring a prominently drawn swastika. The symbolic weight of the swastika leaves little room for ambiguity in how the viewer is supposed to interpret the image.
The use of this imagery, particularly in a documentary-style comic where authenticity and accuracy are expected, raises ethical questions about how visual media can be used to manipulate narratives and reinforce disinformation. Igort also references the Azov Regiment, noting its far-right associations, although the regiment is now integrated into the Ukrainian Armed Forces. This is reflective of how such groups are part of a broader spectrum of society (not only Ukrainian) and not indicative of mainstream ideologies.

Igort undoubtedly sympathizes with Ukraine, depicting the war’s brutality. Yet, his occasional reliance on stereotypes or contested narratives can mislead readers unfamiliar with the context. His portrayal highlights the challenges and responsibilities of representing complex histories, particularly concerning politically sensitive subjects. Igort’s method, whether intentional or not, underscores the complex dynamics at play when art seeks to interpret history amidst an ongoing war, demonstrating how nuanced and fraught such interpretations can be.
The graphic novel by Zemelo offers a different perspective on stereotypes and propagandist narratives. The main characters are invited to a local Italian radio station to discuss the situation in Ukraine and future work on comics. The interviewer’s persona, depicted as wearing glasses that obscure his eyes, suggests a lack of empathy, asks questions about NATO bases, the war in Donbas, zombie mosquitoes, and Nazis. Zemelo captures the mood shift through a red tone panel, indicating the characters’ growing irritation with the line of questioning (Zemelo 2023, 19). (Fig 10.) The author aims to demonstrate that war is not merely a sensationalist news item (often fake) but a profound human tragedy.

Conclusion
The Ukrainian case has gained significant attention in international comics, particularly through narratives centered on the ongoing war. Authors blend the documentary genre with elements of journalistic reportage and personal diaries, striving for both authenticity and emotional resonance. This approach results in a mix of objective observations and subjective reflections shaped by the authors’ experiences with Ukraine. Aligning with broader global trends, these comics prioritize the impact of the war on civilians, shedding light on the daily hardships and the resilience of ordinary Ukrainians. A notable feature of the analyzed comics is the frequent juxtaposition of Ukrainian and Russian experiences. Some authors, influenced by global traditions of reconciliation, attempt to present war as a shared tragedy. While this approach works in the context of historical reflection, its application to the ongoing war in Ukraine is far more contentious.
By adopting a documentary style, these works offer insights into the multifaceted realities of the war in Ukraine, providing international audiences with a deeper understanding of its effects on civilians and challenging prevailing stereotypes in media representations. However, the duality of objectivity and subjectivity, combined with the potential for misinformation, calls for greater scrutiny of the narratives they present. As these comics continue to circulate globally, they play a crucial role in shaping public understanding of the war, underscoring the need for careful engagement with their content and perspective.
Notes
[1] The research is ongoing and the list of countries is not exhaustive.
[2] Quaderni Ucraini: Diario di un’invasione (in Italian), Berichte aus der Ukraine: Tagebuch einer Invasion (in German)
[3] Im Krieg: Zwei illustrierte Tagebücher aus Kiew und St. Petersburg (in German).
[4] Igort’s The Ukrainian and Russian Notebooks: Life and Death Under Soviet Rule (2011) and Japanese Notebooks: A Journey to the Empire of Signs (2015); Krug’s Belonging: A German Reckons with History and Home (2018); Brown’s Drowned City: Hurricane Katrina and New Orleans (2015) and The Unwanted: Stories of the Syrian Refugees (2018).
[5] Les tournesols d’Ukraine: Echapper à l’invasion (in French).
[6] Safe Area Goražde (2000)and Palestine (2009)
[7] For example, Im Westen nichts Neues (1928) by Erich Maria Remarque and Night (1960) by Elie Wiesels.
[8] For example, Der Duft der Kiefern by Bianca Schaalburg (2021), Die vertriebenen Kinder by Marek Toman (2023).
References
Brown, Don. 83 Days in Mariupol: A War Diary. Clarion books, 2023.
Chernova, Maryna. “Stepanu Banderi – 113 rokiv: fakty ta feiky pro ukrainskoho natsionalista”. 2022. https://freeradio.com.ua/stepanu-banderi-111-rokiv-fakti-ta-fejki-pro-ukrainskogo-nacionalista/
Fake. V “Ukraini prykhovuiut spravzhniu svitlynu Stepana Bandery z nimetskym kerivnytstvom”. 2023. https://disinfo.detector.media/en/post/v-ukraini-prykhovuiut-spravzhniu-svitlynu-stepana-bandery-z-nimetskym-kerivnytstvom
Igort. How War Begins: Dispatches from the Ukrainian Invasion, trans. Jamie Richards. Fantagraphics Books, 2022.
Krug, Nora. Diaries of War: Two Visual Accounts from Ukraine and Russia. Ten Speed Graphic, 2023.
McKinney, Mark. Postcolonialism and Migration in French Comics, Leuven University Press, 2020.
Pidoprygora, Svitlana. “Documenting war in Ukrainian comics: shifting from soldiers to civilians,” Canadian Slavonic Papers, 2024, 1–28, https://doi.org/10.1080/00085006.2024.2417573
Pidoprygora, Svitlana. “Ukrainian Comics and War in Ukraine,” TRAFO – Blog for Transregional Research, 27.09.2022, https://doi.org/10.58079/ut5g
Pratt, Henry J. The Philosophy of Comics: What They Are, How They Work and Why They Matter. New York: Oxford University Press, 2023.
Zemelo, B. Pietro. Les tournesols d’Ukraine, thans. Alice Lacroix.Steinkis, 2023.
About the Author
Svitlana Pidoprygora holds a Doctorate in Philological Sciences that corresponds to Dr. habil. in Ukrainian Literature and Theory of Literature. She previously served as a professor at the Department of English Philology and Translation at Petro Mohyla Black Sea National University in Mykolaiv, Ukraine till 2022. Currently, she is a short-term lecturer at the Department of Slavic Studies at the University of Innsbruck, Austria. Her research interests include visual studies, comics studies, media studies, mass culture studies, and Ukrainian studies. She has been awarded the Prisma Ukraïna Fellowship (2022) in Berlin, Germany, and the URIS Fellowship at the University of Basel (August 2023 – July 2024) in Basel, Switzerland.
Other recent articles in the TRAFO series Rethinking East European Studies in Times of Upheaval:
Hanna Rudyk, Liminality and Museums in Ukraine: the Khanenkos’ Case, 27.05.2025.
Olena Komar, ‘Fight your Emotions’: Affective Injustice in Wartime, 06.05.2025.
Anastasiya Leukhina et al., Rethinking Slow Science from the Perspective of Warzone Academics, 17.04.2025.
Citation: Svitlana Pidoprygora, Ukraine and Ukrainians in the Panels: Global Comics Perspectives on the War, in: TRAFO – Blog for Transregional Research, 10.06.2025, https://trafo.hypotheses.org/59302
OpenEdition suggests that you cite this post as follows:
Forum Transregionale Studien (June 10, 2025). Ukraine and Ukrainians in the Panels: Global Comics Perspectives on the War. TRAFO – Blog for Transregional Research. Retrieved June 19, 2025 from https://doi.org/10.58079/142w7