logo
#

Latest news with #KyivSchoolofEconomics

In wartime Ukraine, a university grows — and reclaims a space once reserved for the corrupt
In wartime Ukraine, a university grows — and reclaims a space once reserved for the corrupt

Yahoo

timea day ago

  • Business
  • Yahoo

In wartime Ukraine, a university grows — and reclaims a space once reserved for the corrupt

Once the playground of disgraced Ukrainian politicians, a golf club in Kyiv's Soviet-era Obolon neighborhood is now set to become the new campus of the Kyiv School of Economics, which last month bought the site for $18 million as part of a $40 million investment — the largest private investment in education in Ukraine's independent history. At the opening picnic on the grounds last Sunday, over 2,000 students, alumni, and locals gathered on a territory once reserved for political elites, including scandal-ridden ex-President Viktor Yanukovych and other similarly shameless officials of his time. After the 2014 revolution ousted those officials and Ukraine has seen a broader shift toward Europe, the early 2000s golf club — always more about status than love of sport — languished for years. Starting next year, KSE, one of Ukraine's top private universities, will reopen the site as a new campus focused on expanding its STEM programs to train engineers, mathematicians, and tech professionals needed for the country's defense, recovery, and economy. KSE says it has already hired four mathematics professors from abroad to staff the math degree. The campus will also be open to the public. 'This was a closed elite community — we're very capitalist, but we're going to be socialists on this: Open it,' KSE director Tymofiy Mylovanov tells the Kyiv Independent at the picnic on June 1. KSE began in the '90s with one executive business degree geared toward professionals who wanted to go abroad, and has since grown to 1,500 students across 17 programs — up from 177 students and six programs before the start of the full-scale invasion. The university has quickly outgrown its current building, which it bought in 2020 for $5 million. KSE's rector, Tymofii Brik, says the university, using a mix of 'pragmatism and romanticism,' bet on Ukraine's survival against Russia's full-scale invasion — and its need for engineers to contribute to the war effort and rebuild — by launching new degrees in 2023, a year after the start of the invasion. That year, KSE added programs in psychology, memory studies, law, urban science, cybersecurity, and artificial intelligence. In 2024, the university launched programs in unmanned aerial vehicles (UAVs) and micro and nano-electronics. The new programs resonated with students who stayed in Ukraine despite the war and wanted to help shape its future, Brik says. 'There's this expression — 'If you build a church, they will come.'' KSE is planning to open the 15,000-square-meter (almost 4 acres, or the size of two soccer fields) grounds to the public and tear down the fences currently separating it from the riverwalk and adjoining public park, taking its inspiration largely from U.S. university campuses. While still small compared to most American universities, it will be the first of its kind in Kyiv. The Ukrainian Catholic University in Lviv has an expansive, open campus. Early conversations with community members, which Brik, who grew up in the area, says the school is committed to engaging in, include an outdoor cinema in the summertime. 'People deserve to have access to this beautiful public space because it belongs to the public — we have no right to close it,' Brik says. No large land deal in Ukraine is without scrutiny — the results of decades of corruption that have led to public mistrust. KSE's announcement is no exception. Some critics have said the purchase price was inflated, while others have pointed out that zoning laws do not allow for a campus to be built on the golf course's grounds, on the riverbank. Mylovanov and Brik have quick answers to the accusations: On pricing, the buildings on the golf course have far more space than people realize; on zoning, they have no plans to build anything for now, and they will maintain some golf activity to comply with the current laws. They also point out that, as a U.S.-registered company — it is not uncommon for Ukrainian organizations and companies to be registered abroad — KSE is subject to rigorous compliance checks on any deals they do. Others have found the wartime investment, in Mylovanov's words, 'cringey.' But for that, too, Mylovanov has a response — first, the school's donors, made up of confidential individuals and organizations from the U.S., U.K., and Europe, want to invest in education, not the military. And second, while defense is critical, education is also a crucial part of the country's long-term security. Looking toward the long-term needs, KSE is partnering with Olin College in the U.S. to co-create a new, interdisciplinary engineering program, says Rebecca Brosseau, who is part of the team developing the new program. Olin itself was founded 30 years ago on the very idea that traditional engineering curricula weren't fostering the creative thinking future engineers needed. Over the next year, Brosseau will recruit around 10 faculty and 10–15 students to launch a pilot program in late 2026, co-developing the curriculum together with the professors, students, and in partnership with Olin. The goal, Brosseau says, is to build an interdisciplinary team that will design courses collaboratively and try 'something completely revolutionary for engineering education and maybe even for higher education — anywhere.' KSE's approach is a far cry from Ukraine's often inefficient, outdated, and even corrupt public education system — a problem of an ingrained culture, not people, says Brik. He believes that at the current moment in Ukraine, only private institutions have the flexibility to drive real reform. 'I would even put it in a very provocative way — if you gave $1 million to a public university right now, nothing would happen; but if you gave $1 million to us or the Ukrainian Catholic University, you would see something meaningful the same year,' Brik says. When asked whether KSE wants to be a role model for Ukraine's education system as a whole, Mylovanov says he's done trying to prove anything to anyone. 'I just want more people in what I call the 'anti-despair' movement,' Mylovanov says, to counteract the defeatist narratives 'by doing something small, but something real.' Read also: With music festival honoring fallen combat medic, Ukrainians reinvent memorial culture We've been working hard to bring you independent, locally-sourced news from Ukraine. Consider supporting the Kyiv Independent.

With music festival honoring fallen combat medic, Ukrainians reinvent memorial culture
With music festival honoring fallen combat medic, Ukrainians reinvent memorial culture

Yahoo

time2 days ago

  • Entertainment
  • Yahoo

With music festival honoring fallen combat medic, Ukrainians reinvent memorial culture

Editor's Note: The following is the latest in a series of reports by the Kyiv Independent about the memorialization of Ukraine's fallen soldiers. "We weren't taught to live side-by-side with death in schools and universities, but it's always near," the speaker Anton Liahusha, the dean of the memory studies program in the Kyiv School of Economics, says during a lecture at the open-air Lviv folk museum. On June 1, thousands of Ukrainians gathered to celebrate the 27th birthday of a fallen military medic and memorialization activist, Iryna 'Cheka' Tsybukh. They listened to lectures about memorial culture in Ukraine, shopped for traditional and hand-made items, donated to the combat medic unit Tsybukh served in, Hospitallers, danced folk dances to live Ukrainian music, and sang Ukrainian songs around a bonfire. Promoting the values Tsybukh cared for in life, the 'Cheka fest' festival is a striking example of the new ways Ukrainians are honoring those killed in Russia's war, as old commemoration customs fail to hold the weight of continuous losses. The woman of the day was also at the festival as a large black-and-white portrait placed next to the stage. Tsybukh was killed during a front-line mission in Kharkiv Oblast in 2024 just days before her 26th birthday. Before her death, Tsybukh was a fierce advocate for the reinvention of memorial practices in Ukraine, recording several interviews with Ukrainian media and widely sharing her views on social media. The festival — named after Tsybukh's callsign and organized for the first time this year by her family, friends, and fellow activists — included both educational and musical programs. How to love their loved ones after they were killed? Before noon, hundreds of people had filled the lush green yard near one of the museum's traditional Ukrainian wooden architectural buildings. People sat on the grass and chairs, while others that hadn't managed to get a seat lined the fence and gate. They listened to lectures about memorial culture that aimed to put the incomprehensible into words: How to love their loved ones after they were killed? When the losses are so overwhelming, talking and remembering them together helped people share their weight, Tsybukh believed. Her own family and comrades on the stage recounted stories of how she lived out her patriotic values, becoming a 'a moral compass' to many of the young people who didn't know her personally. 'Stories about Iryna inspire, give you the strength to move on,' said Kateryna Borysenko, 31, a psychotherapist in training who survived 1.5 years in occupation in her native Donetsk Oblast. 'They give hope that, however much the heavens would fall, we'll live on.' 'I have made it my duty to attend every event like this, connected with the war, with heroes, with soldiers,' said Khrystyna Martsiniak, 21, a journalism student studying at the same Lviv university that Tsybukh graduated from. 'I also was (at Iryna Tsybukh's grave) at 9 a.m. today. It was something special.' The daily minute of silence at 9 a.m. to honor fallen soldiers was a staple of Tsybukh's memorial culture philosophy. She believed that if observed everywhere in the country, it had the power to unite Ukrainians in their shared loss. 'Stories about Iryna inspire, give you the strength to move on.' Tsybukh's belief in unity in the face of loss was so deep she designed her own funeral as a sort of memorial concert to bring people together in mourning. In a posthumous letter published by her brother, she outlined her wishes for the funeral, which included a request people to wear traditional Ukrainian garments — embroidered shirts called 'vyshyvanka' — and sing ten Ukrainian songs around the fire in her memory. The second musical part of the festival proved that Tsybukh's vision lives and expands, and is emerging as a new tradition. Thousands of people dressed in vyshyvankas covered the slope of a hill around the festival stage, where Ukrainian bands played the songs she loved. Hundreds danced as Tsybukh's family watched from afar. When dusk fell, people approached the stage to honor Tsybukh the way she wished: by collectively singing in Ukrainian. It seemed like the moment everyone was waiting for all day. From the stage, a short recording of Tsybukh's voice was played on a phone into the microphone. 'A most soulful evening awaits each of you tonight,' Tsybukh voice says from a recording taken during a concert she helped to organize for soldiers near the front. Her voice and her legacy echoed again in many hearts, as ten Ukrainian songs from her list filled the evening museum park. As the festival came to a close that evening, Tsybukh's friends and family promised to celebrate her birthday with a festival again next year. The remaining people gathered around the glowing embers of the fire to sing one last song — the Ukrainian national anthem. Maria, 28, who declined to give her last name, didn't know Tsybukh personally but came from Kyiv specially for the memorial festival, said she left the event with a sense of duty fulfilled. "I came here to see my beacon," she said, referring to Tsybukh, as she walked from the park through the dark streets with several other young women. Read also: Memorializing Ukraine's fallen soldiers: One asked to be cremated so future fighters don't 'dig trenches in our bones' We've been working hard to bring you independent, locally-sourced news from Ukraine. Consider supporting the Kyiv Independent.

Putin calls to 'strangle' Western companies still operating in Russia
Putin calls to 'strangle' Western companies still operating in Russia

Yahoo

time26-05-2025

  • Business
  • Yahoo

Putin calls to 'strangle' Western companies still operating in Russia

Russian President Vladimir Putin on May 26 called for punitive action against Western companies still operating in Russia, saying they must be "strangled" in response to what he described as Western attempts to suffocate the Russian economy. "We should strangle them. I agree completely. I'm speaking without any shame, because they're trying to strangle us. We need to reciprocate," Putin said during a meeting with Russian entrepreneurs. The remarks came in response to a proposal from one business representative to "slightly" restrict the work of remaining Western companies, naming Microsoft and Zoom as examples. The participant claimed, citing unnamed analysts, that Russia's IT industry was losing billions due to continued reliance on foreign services. Putin took the suggestion further, urging the government to identify those still using Western software. "Give us everyone who can't get rid of these bad habits. I'm not kidding, seriously," he said. Join our community Support independent journalism in Ukraine. Join us in this fight. Support Us Following the start of the full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2022, hundreds of Western companies exited Russia or suspended operations under public pressure and legal sanctions. According to data from the Kyiv School of Economics, 472 foreign firms have fully withdrawn from Russia, while another 1,360 have scaled back their operations. In some cases, Moscow has directly seized assets from companies that remained in the country. The Kremlin's increasingly hostile approach has been viewed as retaliation for freezing around $300 billion in Russian sovereign assets abroad. Despite the rhetoric, Russia continues to explore paths for re-engagement with foreign businesses. In February, Putin instructed his government to prepare for the eventual return of Western firms. Still, no formal requests have been received from companies seeking re-entry, according to Dmitry Medvedev, deputy chairman of Russia's Security Council and former president. Read also: Russia can attack Europe 2-4 years after war's end, faster with lifted sanctions, Ukrainian intel chief warns We've been working hard to bring you independent, locally-sourced news from Ukraine. Consider supporting the Kyiv Independent.

Invaded by a giant, but not defeated: End of war in Ukraine will feel like a rout at first, before future opens up for war-torn nation
Invaded by a giant, but not defeated: End of war in Ukraine will feel like a rout at first, before future opens up for war-torn nation

Sky News AU

time26-05-2025

  • Politics
  • Sky News AU

Invaded by a giant, but not defeated: End of war in Ukraine will feel like a rout at first, before future opens up for war-torn nation

It will not look like a victory. Not at first. When the dust of negotiations settles and the terms of a ceasefire are read aloud - likely acknowledging de facto Russian control of portions of Donetsk, Luhansk, and perhaps Crimea - many Ukrainians will feel only grief. After three years of war, the loss of land, lives and sovereignty will feel like a slow bleed culminating with a bitter compromise. There will be no euphoric liberation moment. Instead, the end will be a sapping, exhausted acceptance. And yet, with time, what may first be seen as a rupturing of the country will increasingly take on the contours of something else: a national hinge moment. Annual remembrances will mark abidance against overwhelming odds. For generations, the narrative will reduce itself to a simple and defiant truth: we were invaded by a giant, we were not defeated, our culture and society endures. Collectively, recent statements from the key leaders involved indicate a mutual, albeit cautious, movement toward negotiations. The acknowledgment of the complexities and the emphasis on diplomatic solutions suggest that the prospect of a full Russian occupation of Ukraine has diminished, with all parties seeming to signpost a negotiated end to the conflict. While rejecting a recently proposed 30-day ceasefire, Russian President Vladimir Putin expressed openness to renewed peace talks, stating: 'This would be the first step towards a long-term, lasting peace, rather than a prologue to more armed hostilities after the Ukrainian armed forces get new armaments and personnel, after feverish trench-digging and the establishment of new command posts.' There is no romanticism in this. The human and economic toll has been catastrophic. Since 2022, over 8 million Ukrainians have fled their homes - some 14 million have been displaced internally or abroad. By 2024, Ukraine had lost access to 15 to 20 per cent of its prewar GDP base - a collapse driven not just by occupation, but by the decimation of key industrial zones and infrastructure in the east and south. Cities like Mariupol, Severodonetsk, and Bakhmut, once vital to metallurgy, chemicals, and logistics, are now cratered ruins. The cost of rebuilding physical infrastructure alone is estimated by the World Bank and Kyiv School of Economics at more than $620 billion - and that figure rises monthly. But these losses, grievous though they are, do not equate to strategic defeat. The government and the people of Ukraine continue to show remarkable resilience. Children are attending school and Ukraine has kept critical social and health services and business running. Ukraine's private sector has also demonstrated incredible durability. Many firms have started to invest in repairs, including through distributed energy solutions such as gas power plants, solar panels and biogas. The occupied territories, for all their natural resources (including coal, iron, and access to ports), also represented political and cultural ambivalence. Heavily Russian speaking, generally more conservative, and historically sceptical of Kyiv's western leanings, the Donbas region has long complicated Ukraine's internal cohesion. Their effective secession may, paradoxically, render the remaining state more politically unified, more westward-facing, and more determined to consolidate a democratic future. Consider the demographics: the loss of the eastern oblasts would mean Ukraine's remaining population would tilt younger, more urban, and more European in outlook. Education and democratic preference indicators are likely to rise modestly. Politically, the absence of pro-Russian voting blocs could streamline reform agendas and reduce obstruction in parliament. Linguistically, too, Ukraine is pivoting with purpose: the Ukrainian language is asserting itself in public life, media, and education at an accelerating rate. In the Donetsk and Luhansk Oblasts, there are huge proportions of Russian speakers. These regions exhibited lower secondary school completion rates compared to central and western Ukraine. Internationally, the shift is no less stark. Ukraine may never regain all its lost land, but it has firmly reoriented its future. Already, it is stitched into the economic and military fabric of the West. EU candidate status, deepening trade ties, and long-term security pacts with NATO members (even if formal membership remains distant) are gradually remaking Ukraine's posture. Western investors, once hesitant, are beginning to take note: infrastructure, agriculture and tech sectors are drawing attention not out of charity, but because a leaner, more liberal Ukraine may lead to foreign capital flows in tandem with political reforms. President Zelensky's place in this trajectory will rise with time. Initially elected as a populist reformer, he will likely be remembered for his wartime leadership, consistent public presence, and refusal to flee Kyiv in the war's earliest hours. When the suffering and grim realities of day-to-day life, and bitter concessions recede from the collective memory, he will be remembered as the man who held the nation together. To some, the idea of a "victory" that includes ceding territory will never sit comfortably. That discomfort is warranted. Yet it must be weighed against the alternative: a state wiped from the map, a people absorbed, a democracy snuffed out. That was the spectre of early 2022. Instead, Ukraine remains. It governs. It legislates. It teaches children, runs elections, and builds roads. For a few weeks, its extinction looked plausible. It is now, plainly, improbable. Victory in the 21st century is rarely total. Ukraine has lost much, and will grieve long. But it has also seemed to have fended off a superpower. In doing so, it has earned not just international admiration, but a future. The war will end. Ukraine will still be here. And that, over time, may be recognised as something far closer to victory than it first appears. Nicholas Sheppard is an accomplished journalist whose work has been featured in The Spectator, The NZ Herald and Politico. He is also a published literary author and public relations consultant

Why EU, US companies are keeping trademark rights in Russia
Why EU, US companies are keeping trademark rights in Russia

Time of India

time02-05-2025

  • Business
  • Time of India

Why EU, US companies are keeping trademark rights in Russia

Representative Image (AP) More than 460 international companies have halted operations in Russia since it launched its full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2022 by selling or liquidating their assets, according to a study by Ukraine's Kyiv School of Economics. In total, 59 global brands have left the Russian market, the study said. Of these, 25 companies are keeping their trademarks registered in Russia, DW learned from the database of Russia's national patent office, Rospatent. What does keeping the trademark mean? Maintaining the trademark means the names, logos and designs of a brand remain the company's intellectual property and can't be used or imitated by others. Sponsored Links Sponsored Links Promoted Links Promoted Links You May Like Pernas e pés inchados: Experimente isso para ajudar a drenar o fluído do edema aartedoherbalismo Undo For example, the golden arches logo of McDonald's remains protected in Russia, or the iconic three-pointed star of Mercedes' trademark. Both of these are among the companies keeping their trademarks registered in Russia, as well as Ikea, Jaguar and Volvo. The other 34 companies of the 59 global brands that left the Russian market — including German consumer goods and adhesives manufacturer Henkel and Finnish energy supplier Fortum — have not applied for their trademarks to be used in Russia after February 2022. Some companies, such as consumer goods manufacturer Unilever and British American Tobacco, have transferred the trademark rights to some of their products to their former Russian subsidiaries. This means formally, they no longer have anything to do with them. But the Russian press has jumped on signs that companies like McDonald's and KFC, which had announced their complete withdrawal from Russia, have now applied for new trademarks or the extension of existing trademark rights. Citing the Rospatent website, they have run with headlines like "The return of Western companies," or "Western companies follow Ariston and flock to Russia," and "The State Duma speaks out in favor of the return of Western companies." Swedish furniture maker Ikea has come under particular scrutiny. In 2022, Ikea condemned Russia's full-scale invasion of Ukraine. In 2024, it finally left the Russian Federation and sold off its last warehouse in the Moscow region, where it had once started its Russian operations in 2003. Yet according to the Rospatent database, Ikea has filed at least four applications to extend the registration of its trademarks since February 2022, one of which is still under review. Who has abandoned their brand? The other companies listed by the Kyiv School of Economics have either not submitted or have withdrawn trademark applications. For example, German detergent and adhesive maker Henkel did not extend its trademark rights in 2022, and its current registration expires at the end of this year. A trademark registration is valid for a total of 10 years and many companies that submitted an application before February 2022 still have some time left to decide. German hardware store chain Obi applied for trademark registration in 2021, but this was not approved until the end of 2022. This means its intellectual property will likely be protected for years to come. In practice, however, there may be exceptions. Under Russian law, a competitor may legally challenge the right to use an "ownerless" trademark if it has not been used for three years. In March of this year, Russian air conditioning manufacturer Rusklimat succeeded in having the Swedish company Ericsson's trademark registration declared invalid in court. Why companies protect their trademarks\ Russian economist and journalist Jan Melkumov says extending trademark rights is primarily a formal procedure. An application indicates that a company does not want to part with its brands in Russia. "Companies want to avoid someone else using their brand names. They don't want to spend money on lawyers and go through a new registration process," he told DW. According to Melkumov, if companies agree on a repurchase right when selling their Russian assets, they can also get their trademarks back. However, if these have already been sold by the buyer, repurchasing could take years. At the same time, Melkumov emphasizes that, given the turbulent political situation and high risks, few big companies would be likely to return to Russia. "For them, it's a question of strategic planning. If the political situation changes in five or 10 years, it will be easier for them to reestablish their presence," Melkumov told DW. A return to the Russian market depends less on the willingness of companies and more on the political situation and Russian regime, he said. "Even under favorable conditions, a return will not be reminiscent of the 1990s," Melkumov said. "There will not be as much enthusiasm and trust in Russia as there was then — people will be cautious." The Ukrainian organization B4Ukraine, which campaigns for Russia's isolation, asked numerous companies about their plans for reentering the Russian market. McDonald's and Coca-Cola, two US companies, issued cautious statements in this regard. As published by B4Ukraine, McDonald's said that the reasons that led the company to withdraw from Russia in 2022 "remain valid today." Coca-Cola, meanwhile, stated that "sanctions and other legal barriers remain in place that influence any consideration of returning to the Russian market." Non-Western companies fill the void Russian authorities have drawn up certain criteria for companies wishing to return to the country. According to the RBC website, foreign companies could be made to ensure local production, engage in technology transfer, and enter into joint ventures with Russian shareholders. But for now, none of this is finalized. The real beneficiaries of the current situation are Chinese, Indian and Middle Eastern companies, who are actively replacing Western competitors, Melkumov explained. According to a study by Nikoliers, a consulting firm, 27 clothing and shoe brands from these countries have already replaced 32 Western companies that have left the Russian market.

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into the world of global news and events? Download our app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store