Lithuania is one of the countries that has been most supportive of Ukraine. This support did not begin in February 2022 but dates back to the Russian invasion of Crimea in 2014. These are two nations with a painful shared past and deep ties of friendship.

Vilnius, January 1991: cold and fear. The Lithuanian capital is under siege by Soviet special forces. The OMON (Otrjad Mobil’nyj Osobogo Naznacenija, Mobile Special Purpose Unit) were created by Gorbachev in 1988 specifically to stifle the yearnings for freedom that were spreading through the various Soviet republics. They were not under the command of the Army but of the Ministry of the Interior. Gorbachev, then leader of the USSR, having first attempted to strangle the young republic economically – the first of the states occupied by the Soviet Union to have dared to declare its independence on 11 March 1990 – decided to subdue it by force. The Lithuanians responded as one, with strong determination and without resorting to violence. Thousands took to the streets to protect the Parliament and the public broadcaster (LRT). On the night of 13–14 January 1991, OMON forces stormed the Television Tower. Citizens rushed to the scene and formed a human chain to protect it. The Soviets intervened with tanks.

There were 14 deaths and thousands of injured. The Soviets also laid siege to the parliament. The Lithuanians are defending it with barricades and the presence of thousands of people. Inside, Vytautas Landsbergis, leader of independent Lithuania, his ministers and members of Parliament are awaiting the final assault.

Amongst the crowd in the square, a group of civilians are speaking a language that, at first glance, sounds like Russian. There are about fifty young people. Are they infiltrators, Kremlin provocateurs? No, that language isn’t Russian: it’s Ukrainian. They are Ukrainian students who have rushed to defend an independent Lithuania. Their leader, Yevhen Dsykyi, a student at Kyiv University, and Yevhen Nikolenko are supporting the Lithuanians’ struggle. Some are outside Parliament; others are defending the headquarters of the public broadcaster, which was trying to inform Western countries of what was happening. On 29 January 1991, Dsykyi addressed the Supreme Council of Lithuania: “The example of Lithuania has shown that the state can be defeated and that the army can be defeated, but that no one will ever be able to defeat the nation. We believe in your victory. I say ‘your victory’ incorrectly. Because your victory is our victory. It is a victory for democracy and a victory for free nations against Soviet fascism and totalitarianism, which threaten all the nations of the Soviet Union.”

Valerij Miloserdov, a Ukrainian photographer, was at the start of his career in 1991 and was covering events in Vilnius for the newspaper Izvestia. He took numerous significant photographs of the Soviet attack on the legitimate Lithuanian government and Lithuania’s independence.

These events help us today to better understand Lithuania’s response to the large-scale aggression unleashed by the Russian Federation now more than four years ago. It is also important to recall the links between the Lithuanian armed resistance against the Soviet regime – which began immediately after the end of the Second World War and continued until 1953 – and the similar resistance in eastern Ukraine. This resistance was directed against the very same Soviet occupation regime. Contacts were sporadic, due to the world’s silence and practical difficulties on the ground. But they did exist.

Russophobia?

Lithuania endured almost fifty years of Soviet occupation. From 1940 to 1990, with the brief and tragic interlude of Nazi occupation, hundreds of thousands of people were deported and exiled to Siberia. Many never returned: they died from the cold, disease and hardship. Every Lithuanian family, in a country that today has a population of around two million eight hundred thousand, has a relative who died or, by a stroke of luck, survived the Soviet gulags and forced exile.

On the morning of 24 February 2022, we were in Italy. We were due to set off soon for Lithuania, a country my partner and I have been visiting since 2005. Shocking news was coming in from Ukraine. What we had feared was happening. The Russian Federation was invading it. From the very first hours of dawn, messages began to arrive from our Lithuanian friends. They were distraught and terrified: ‘We’re next,’ was the recurring sentiment. They know the Russians well. They’ve had to live with them for decades. Under occupation. They know what they are capable of. Precisely for this reason, as early as 2008, following the occupation of territories in Sakartvelo (the real name for Georgia), Lithuanian politicians tried to warn Western countries: “They won’t stop there… Russia’s plan is much broader… they want to regain the role of an imperial power lost with the collapse of the Soviet Union.” The Balts were not believed; they were accused of Russophobia. Then came Crimea, the war in the Donbas region and, before that, Chechnya. Finally, the full-scale invasion. “Will you listen to us now?” A question posed repeatedly by ordinary Lithuanian citizens and politicians since 24 February.

Immediate response and support

After the initial shock, Lithuanian citizens sprang into action to welcome Ukrainian refugees – thousands of them, mainly women and children – fleeing the war. They organised demonstrations in support of Ukraine, as well as fundraising campaigns and collections of essential supplies. But also weapons. You cannot protect a country under military attack without providing it with what it needs to defend itself: weapons. Lithuanian towns are awash with thousands of Ukrainian flags. All government institutions, museums, theatres, and thousands of ordinary people’s homes, shops and cafés are displaying the blue-and-yellow flag alongside a telephone number (1482) for the leading non-governmental organisation that has been helping Ukraine since 2014. Since the occupation of the Crimean peninsula. It is called ‘Blue-Yellow’. It has already raised millions of euros to support the Ukrainian struggle. It has now reached almost 120 million euros. The organisation works closely with the various Ukrainian units on the ground. It knows what they need and acts accordingly. Weapons, state-of-the-art drones, night-vision equipment, helmets, clothing and generators. It also organises medical missions with Lithuanian volunteer doctors willing to work on the front line. In makeshift operating theatres under constant attack, where a steady stream of wounded – many in a critical condition – keeps arriving. During his most recent trip to Lithuania, President Zelensky visited the organisation. Over the years, the NGO has received several certificates and medals from Ukrainian combat units, as well as a medal from the Ukrainian Ministry of Defence.

In May 2022, Blue Yellow, together with a Lithuanian private TV channel, Laisvės TV (Freedom), and the public broadcaster LRT, launched a fundraising campaign to purchase a Turkish-made Bayraktar drone. At the time, it was one of the few weapons capable of countering the Russian aggression. It cost five million euros. The fundraising campaign was completed in three days. Most of the donations were small contributions from ordinary citizens. The owners of the Turkish factory were astonished and decided to donate the drone free of charge. The five million euros were then channelled towards other aid efforts.

The Blue-Yellow NGO

Every spring, starting in 2023, the NGO organises fundraising campaigns to purchase drones and other military equipment. The campaign is called RADAROM. 2023: fourteen million euros; 2024: over eight million; 2025: six million; 2026: four million. All raised in a single month. A campaign is currently underway to purchase mobile Starlink units for the front line. These systems enable secure connections and more efficient, precise control of drones, even over long distances. Jonas Oheman, founder of Blue Yellow, told us: “Lithuanian support has not diminished (editor’s note: as the figures collected from 2022 to the present might suggest). It has changed.” Many citizens have taken out subscriptions with monthly donations. Others donate money to mark personal anniversaries. Support initiatives by museums, universities and communities are multiplying, with targeted fundraising campaigns launched periodically. Vytautas Magnus University in Kaunas, Lithuania’s second-largest city, is welcoming Ukrainian students and providing courses and accommodation for refugees. The University of Vilnius is doing the same.

The Lithuanian Presidency, through the First Lady Diana Nausėdienė, together with the Ukrainian Embassy in Lithuania and with the support of the Ukrainian First Lady Olena Zelenska, has established the “Ukrainian Centre” to provide spaces for culture, education and other services for the Ukrainian community in Lithuania. The Lithuanian railway company, LTG, is providing free travel for Ukrainian refugees. Most museums are offering them free entry.

On 27 August 2025, to mark the anniversary of the Via Baltica – the human chain some 600 km long that linked the three countries in protest against the Soviet occupation, formed on 23 August 1989 – a convoy of hundreds of cars, minibuses and pick-up trucks was organised to deliver humanitarian aid to the Ukrainians. Many of the vehicles will be left at the front line, where there is always a need for transport to move and evacuate civilians. The convoy sets off from the Church of the Resurrection in Kaunas, a symbol of the city. Since 2022, the church has made its premises available for collecting humanitarian aid. Candles and anti-drone protection nets are also being produced there. Valdas Bartkevičius, director of the International Friends of Ukraine Foundation, is constantly organising convoys bound for the villages closest to the front line – those most at risk, under constant bombardment and in need of all kinds of aid. “I began these voluntary missions at the start of the full-scale war,” Valdas tells us. “Those villages are not only suffering the effects of the war; they are also among the poorest areas in Ukraine. The most important thing in their lives is freedom.”

The convoy, travelling in several stages, reached Dnipro, Kramatorsk, Dobropillya, Kupjansk and Kherson, amongst other places, all the way to the very front line.

Support on public holidays

Immediately after the large-scale invasion began, we flew to Lithuania to interview ministers, government officials and military figures. Despite the complex situation, they granted us these interviews straight away. They want to make their voices heard – voices that have consistently been ignored over the years.

Meanwhile, friends and acquaintances are sending us messages. “There are constantly planes and helicopters flying over Lithuania,” says Angelica, who works at Kaunas University of Technology. They’re from the NATO air base in Šiauliai, in northern Lithuania. As the days go by, the messages become more level-headed: “We’re in the European Union, we’re in NATO,” says Milda, who works in the cultural sector. “I felt a bit more reassured a few hours after the attack. Partly thanks to some friends who are in our Armed Forces.”

We got off the plane on 9 March, and the first thing that caught our eye was the animated signage on Vilnius’s city buses: ‘Vilnius-Ukraine’, alongside a heart symbol. That signage is still there. Just as Ukrainian flags are on display everywhere.

11 March is a public holiday in Lithuania. It marks the restoration of independence in 1990. The anniversary, which attracts large crowds every year, has recently turned into a massive rally in support of Ukraine. ‘Slava Ukraini’ – ‘Glory to Ukraine’ – is the slogan echoing through the air, shouted by thousands of voices. Two gigantic flags, one Ukrainian and the other Lithuanian, each 200 metres long, are unfurled along the route, from the square in front of Parliament to Cathedral Square. In front of Parliament, the three flags of the Baltic States are hoisted. Since 2022, the Ukrainian flag has also been raised, accompanied by the national anthem. Ukrainian refugees march in the procession. You can recognise them. Their faces are tense and weary, streaked with tears. Their numbers will eventually exceed one hundred thousand. Currently, there are around 70,000–80,000, according to official figures.

In the years since then and up to the present day, both of the most important national holidays (16 February, marking the restoration of Lithuanian statehood in 1918, and 11 March) have provided an opportunity to reaffirm strong support for the country under attack. Ukrainian flags are flown alongside Lithuanian ones.

Many Lithuanians died in the gulags; others survived. Many remember relatives who died at the hands of the Soviet regime. Still others have not forgotten the occupation by Tsarist Russia, which even attempted to ban the Lithuanian language. Without success. 

The words of a survivor of Stalin’s gulags are deeply moving. Henrikas Vilkas was thirteen years old on 14 June 1941 when he was taken from his home along with his family. At the time of his arrest, his father was immediately separated from his wife and children. They did not even have time for a hug. None of them imagined they would never see each other again. His father died in a remote prison camp. His mother died during the early years of their exile in Siberia. During our last meeting before his death in November 2025, Vilkas confided in us: “…If I were younger, I’d be in Ukraine fighting the invaders. I still have a score to settle with them…”. He was 96 years old.