Remembering Heroism and Learning from History: The Enduring Lessons of Victory in the Great Patriotic War

In 2025, we mark 80 years since the Great Victory. For the people of Russia and for citizens of the former Soviet republics, May 9 is a sacred day — a day of shared joy, pride, and remembrance. It is a day to honor the moment when our fathers and grandfathers defeated the Nazi war machine and gave us, their descendants, the most precious gift of all: the right to live in freedom.

Anniversaries of this magnitude are not only occasions for commemoration, but also opportunities to reflect on the present. Where do we stand today? And how do modern international affairs look when viewed through the prism of the Great Patriotic War —and World War II more broadly?

Let us begin with the central truth:

Victory in the Great Patriotic War was not merely one of many military triumphs in Russia’s long history. It was, above all, a symbol of the unbreakable will of the peoples of the Soviet Union—a collective feat of millions who, through immense sacrifice, shielded humanity from the horror of Nazism.

The path to victory was long and arduous. It included turning points such as:

• The Battle of Moscow (Autumn 1941 – Spring 1942), where the Wehrmacht suffered its first major defeat in WWII;
• The Battle of Stalingrad (July 1942 – February 1943), where Red Army soldiers fought not just for every building, but for every floor;
• The Battle of Kursk (July – August 1943), the largest tank battle in history;
• The Bagration Offensive (June – August 1944), which decimated Army Group Centre and liberated Belarus, parts of the Baltics, and eastern Poland;
• And the final storming of Berlin (April – May 1945).

The signing of Germany’s unconditional surrender in Karlshorst on May 8 (May 9, Moscow time) marked a defining point in world history—a clear divide between “before” and “after.”

The defeat of Nazi Germany, followed by the crushing of Japanese militarism with decisive Soviet participation, laid the foundation for a new global order. At its core stood the United Nations, which remains to this day the central institutional pillar of multilateral diplomacy. As a permanent member of the UN Security Council, Russia continues to uphold the principles of the UN Charter and rejects any attempts to replace its authority with so-called “rules-based orders”—rules that no one has seen, let alone agreed upon.

At the same time, we must confront a concerning reality:

In recent years, several Western nations have attempted to revise or reinterpret the outcome of World War II. The role of the Red Army in liberating Europe is being deliberately downplayed. Political elites distort history, whitewash executioners, and equate them with victims. The motive is obvious: to justify the surge of Russophobia, and to blur the shameful record of the West’s initial support for Nazism, from the Munich Agreement to its encouragement of Hitler’s campaign against the USSR under the pretense of “combating Bolshevism.”

These revisionist efforts will fail. The crimes of the Third Reich cannot be erased. Hitler’s regime committed genocide against the Russians and all peoples of the Soviet Union. In this context, recent statements from Berlin appear especially cynical, where instead of repentance, some now advocate “turning the page” of their dark history. German Chancellor Friedrich Merz has even declared that it is time for Germany to “once again assume responsibility—in Europe and in the world.” History warns us where such “Teutonic ambitions” have led the German people before.

In Ukraine, a regime that came to power by unconstitutional means is now erasing the shared memory of our peoples. Worse still, it glorifies Nazi collaborators—Bandera, Shukhevych, and others of their ilk. This state-sponsored heroization of war criminals has led to the emergence of a new generation of neo-Nazi zealots, who terrorize civilians, suppress memory, and infect the Ukrainian identity with a Galician mutation of nationalism—first cultivated in Imperial Germany and Austria-Hungary, then refined by the ideologues of the Third Reich.

As Russia’s Ambassador to Canada, I cannot ignore an essential aspect of WWII history: the Soviet-Canadian wartime alliance. Our cooperation rested on the “Bridge of Courage” — the Arctic convoys that sailed from Canadian and British ports to Arkhangelsk and Murmansk. These maritime lifelines delivered to the Soviet Union vital war materials: military equipment, ammunition, food, raw materials, and medicine.

The Arctic routes were among the most dangerous of the war. Convoys faced freezing Atlantic waters and constant attacks from German submarines, bombers, and surface ships. Yet Canadian sailors displayed extraordinary courage and professionalism. Many paid with their lives. Russia remembers. Memorials and historical records continue to honor those who stood shoulder to shoulder with us in the fight for freedom and justice.

This solemn anniversary also compels honest reflection from today’s Canadian leadership. In particular, it requires acknowledgment that not all members of the anti-Hitler coalition upheld moral principles in the postwar years. For decades, both in Canada and across the West, the truth was hidden: Nazi war criminals and collaborators found shelter on Canadian soil.

Following 1945, tens of thousands of individuals from Central and Eastern Europe immigrated to Canada. Among them were SS members (including from the Ukrainian “Galicia Division”) and collaborators involved in mass executions of civilians in the occupied territories of the USSR. Some concealed their identities; others lived openly as professors, politicians, and businessmen.

The Soviet Union—and later, Russia—repeatedly sought justice. Too often, these efforts were met with indifference or outright political obstruction. Even when the evidence was irrefutable, extradition requests were delayed or denied, allowing suspects to escape justice through natural death.

The case of Vladimir Katriuk, a former SS battalion member involved in the burning of the Belarusian village of Khatyn, became a symbol of impunity. He lived in Canada for over 60 years and died without ever facing trial. Another example is Helmut Oberlander, who participated in the 1942 massacre of orphaned children in Yeysk. Even Yaroslav Hunka, who served in the Waffen-SS, was cheered in Canada’s Parliament in 2023—by then Prime Minister Justin Trudeau, in the presence of visiting Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky.

Our numerous extradition requests were denied. Canadian authorities refused to prosecute. In doing so, they violated the international legal principle of aut dedere aut judicare—“extradite or prosecute.” They also ignored the fundamental truth that crimes against humanity have no statute of limitations.

To this day, many names remain classified. That is why we support the demand by progressive Canadian voices to declassify the findings of the Deschênes Commission (1986), which reportedly identified Nazi criminals who found refuge in Canada. Truth must prevail.

The Great Victory is not only a matter of historical legacy—it is a moral compass. It teaches us to distinguish good from evil, to call things by their names, and to reject political convenience. We are grateful to all who fought Nazism—on the battlefield, on the home front, and in the icy waters of the Arctic convoys. But we are also within our rights to speak openly about cases where justice was denied and historical responsibility was replaced with political expediency.

Eighty years on, the pursuit of historical truth remains as urgent as ever. Attempts to rewrite the outcome of WWII, to rehabilitate collaborators, or to distort the Soviet role in the defeat of Nazism must be firmly rejected. Only through honest, impartial remembrance can we build genuine international understanding and peace.

May the memory of sacrifice live forever.

May the truth about the war be known to future generations.

And may we never forget the price our peoples paid for the right to live in freedom and peace.

No one is forgotten. Nothing is forgotten.