The dawn of the second quarter of the 21st century has been characterized by a resurgence of late 19th-century dynamics — an era defined by powerful empires and smaller states that were forced to navigate their own paths amidst imperial ambitions. Just as in 19th century, we are currently on the precipice of a “phase transition” into a new technological order. In this context, a phase transition refers to the sudden rapid transformation of a system into a fundamentally new state (much like the transition of water into steam when heated). For society, this represents a radical shift in social structures, collective mindset, culture, and the global economy. Historically, these transitions are driven by technological breakthroughs. A primary example is the Neolithic Revolution approximately 10,000 years ago, which fundamentally altered human existence by shifting our survival strategy from hunting and gathering to organized agriculture and animal husbandry.
Societies that pioneer these transitions inevitably displace or assimilate those who lag behind. We are currently witnessing such a transition in real-time, even if its full realization may span several more decades. The global race to lead this shift has returned international relations to a state of raw power politics. In this environment, international law and order are often reduced to mere instruments in the hands of imperial elites, who are supported by their respective voters and societies. Within this landscape, Ukraine exists not merely as a state fighting for survival or a flashpoint of geopolitical tension, but as an ontological experiment. It is a space where new models of existence, action, and meaning are actively being forged.
In the thirteenth year of war, Ukrainian society has declared its refusal to inhabit the victim paradigm, despite centuries of relentless pressure from the Russian Empire. Ukraine has successfully restructured its cultural and historical memory — once defined by the struggle to survive a legacy of assimilative genocide — to instead embrace what Johan Huizinga described as a “Homo Ludens” paradign.
This is a space where the subject does not merely react to the external strategies of others but initiates their own “game,” even when the odds of victory appear negligible and the resources for traditional strategy are insufficient. In this “game,” the traditional divisions between strong and weak, or winner and loser, no longer apply. What matters instead is style, dignity, and the aesthetics of position. Homo Ludens expresses himself through a mindset and communication that reject the focus on the result, or movement from the past to the future. By grounding itself in dignity and the “infinite present,” the subject achieves a form of invulnerability and invincibility. It is the dignity of a samurai who admires the beauty of a flower at the very moment when an enemy sword rips open his intestines, finding a state of being that remains untouched by the physical outcome of the battle.
Volodymyr Zelenskyy’s response, “I need ammunition, not a ride,” exemplifies a conscious rejection of the role of a passive object and a transformation into an active player. This choice was not driven by a calculated probability of success, but by the conviction that abandoning the “game” is worse than losing it. In this framework, maintaining a position of dignity takes precedence over the pragmatic pursuit of a specific result. This philosophy is mirrored in popular culture, such as in Steven Spielberg’s film “Ready Player One”. In the story, the ultimate reward is not granted to the player who simply wins, but to the one who appreciates the aesthetics of the game. It honors the player who finds joy in the act of playing itself, rather than the one driven solely by the pursuit of power, wealth, or a predetermined outcome.
Even more revealing in this context is the statement by the former Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces of Ukraine, Valerii Zaluzhnyi: “No matter how hard it is for us, we will certainly not be ashamed.” This manifests a profound moral freedom—the power to choose one’s priorities and focus strictly on what can be controlled. While we cannot influence the external hardships of global events, our honor and dignity remain our own; the choice to act without shame is one that no external force can take from us. This approach embodies the concept of Homo Ludens — a mode of human existence that engages with life through the lens of “play.” Here, play is not entertainment, but a form of active ontological participation. We find ourselves caught between global tectonic shifts and the lingering trauma of a colonial and genocidal past. This constant pressure for daily survival often leaves us with insufficient human and material resources for traditional, long-term strategizing. Consequently, the results of our actions remain largely unpredictable or, in many cases, carry a high probability of a negative outcome.
Time and again, Ukrainians demonstrate an incredible capacity for survival and growth despite the unrelenting trauma of missile strikes, the killing of civilians, and geopolitical betrayal or cynicism from world leaders. The most compelling explanation for this resilience is the Homo Ludens paradigm. This is vividly expressed through the proliferation of irony and post-irony on Ukrainian social media in memes and pictures. This creative output occurs on an almost industrial scale, remarkable for its sheer volume and speed. Even before the full-scale invasion, a popular online joke suggested that every Ukrainian had two folders on their computer desktop: one filled with memes for the event of a Russian attack, and another for the event that an attack never came.
Ukraine, which has not yet recovered from the post-Soviet and post-imperial trauma, no longer simply refuses to be an object of foreign geopolitics. It offers itself as an answer to modern challenges, creating a new game and a different meaning of existence, refusing to play someone else’s game “with or without cards” – not defeated, but not a winner either. Ukraine is a subject that plays in impossible conditions and preserves dignity. Thus, it is Ukraine that becomes a very tangible threat simultaneously to three restored empires – the USA, China and Russia.
Ukraine destroys the idea of the civilizational center of Muscovy, since it denies the ontology of the Russian Empire simply by Ukraine’s existence as a separate state, with its center in Kyiv, which in medieval texts was called the “second Jerusalem.” The existential threat to the existence of Muscovy is that if there is an independent Ukraine, then there can be independent parts of the Russian Federation – Chechnya, Tatarstan, Yakutia, and Ingria. These territories exist in the form of ideas about independence that can potentially become reality. This means that there is no Russia as an imperial idea. The Russian Federation can exist as a voluntary entity by signing a federal treaty, but not as an empire. This is what Vladimir Putin can not allow.
The Homo Ludens paradign is deeply unsettling for China also. The very existence of the modern Ukrainian state demonstrates that a post-communist society can choose freedom over stability, and is willing to sacrifice “order” for the sake of free ideas — a game where the subject defines their own rules. Ukraine serves as living proof that the Chinese model of harmony, purchased at the cost of personal liberty, is not the only viable path for development.
Similarly, Ukraine disrupts the prevailing American narrative. In an era of digital capitalism, where individuals are often reduced to mere components within vast corporate machines, the traditional “American dream” is losing its luster. The Ukrainian Homo Ludens did not emerge from the laboratories of Silicon Valley or the campuses of Stanford; it was forged under fire in Kharkiv, Bakhmut, and Kherson. By demonstrating daily that freedom is possible even within a nightmare, Ukraine shows that one can act as a sovereign subject — independent of power, wealth, or even the conventional idea of “progress.” Maintaining agency and meaning in any position offers a profound alternative to a world where genuine meaning has been replaced by total control.
The world stands at a multi-dimensional crossroads. Amidst this phase transition, “Homo Deus” — propelled by biotechnology, artificial intelligence, and the pursuit of immortality — is already knocking on the door of Homo Sapiens. Humanity strives toward this image of Homo Deus, a being defined by technocratic omnipotence, as envisioned by Yuval Noah Harari. However, without the grounding element of Homo Ludens, we will be unable to derive genuine joy or fulfillment from such a transformation. While the tyranny of algorithms threatens to reduce us to a mere “deus ex machina” (a ghost within the machine), a true Homo Deus must be a co-creator — one who actively participates in the “game,” shaping its rules, boundaries, and format.
Ukraine, balancing precariously between catastrophe and the “game,” operating without false hope but with unwavering dignity, provides the blueprint for this Homo Ludens. It offers more than just a national archetype; it presents a universal ontological model for European civilization and, ultimately, the world. This is the essential path: the transition from Homo Sapiens to Homo Deus must be mediated by Homo Ludens. This proposal transforms Ukraine from a geopolitical threat to established empires into a genuine alternative. The Ukrainian Homo Ludens is the soldier drinking coffee in a trench, the citizen joking on TikTok under bombardment, or the volunteer caring for animals in a dugout. It is the grim but defiant focus on personal aesthetics—such as the conscious choice of what one wears even when facing the possibility of being found under the rubble of a missile strike. It is a commitment to helping others without the expectation of salvation. This is not cynicism; it is a state of profound ontological clarity. It is an acceptance of life as it is — entirely without guarantees — while recognizing that dignity and meaning are always found within the scope of one’s own actions.
Ukraine does not demand recognition; it simply continues to play. In this persistence lies both its greatest strength and a renewed chance for the world. Yet, this path also carries immense danger. All the three modern empires might feel a profound, subconscious fear of this phenomenon. For them, it may seem more advantageous to unite and remove Ukraine from the global chessboard entirely rather than allow it to reclaim a sovereign space for its own existence. The same moment, Ukrainian identity is deeply forged in the crucible of historical suffering — the Holodomor, systemic imperial and then Societ repressions, wars, and revolutions. To move forward, this identity must process and integrate that pain, which requires space, peace, and, at the very least, a temporary cessation of the existential threats that have defined its history.
Another risk of the Homo Ludens strategy can be related to the requirements of a certain lightness — the ability to maintain distance and fluidly adapt roles in play. However, Ukrainian deep-seated trauma and the fear of recurring catastrophe can make an identity rigid and inflexible, creating a constant risk of falling into ressentiment. True engagement with the “ontology of the game” requires a stable foundation; one must feel secure enough to play with meanings rather than simply struggling to survive. At the same time, Ukrainian political and cultural traditions — especially following the Revolution of Dignity — have leaned toward moral clarity and straightforwardness, often rejecting complex, multi-layered maneuvers. This has fostered a predominantly binary, “black-and-white” approach to problem-solving. Yet, the ontology of play assumes nuance, irony, and indirect thinking. In a culture defined by heroism and sacrifice, these necessary elements of “play” can easily be misconstrued as insincerity or even a lack of moral conviction.
The advent of social networks and the radical democratization of content delivery have fundamentally altered the nature of cognitive warfare. Information influence is no longer limited to simple propaganda, lies, or manipulation. The objective of modern information confrontation is not merely to deceive the enemy or disrupt their command chains; rather, the ultimate goal is to reprogram reality itself. It is an effort to reshape the environment so thoroughly that it becomes impossible for an opponent to maintain their own sovereignty or “subjectivity” within that reality. Ontologically, Ukraine finds itself in a harsh opposition to the global visions of the United States, China, and Russia. However, it lacks the massive material resources required to program a global reality in its own favor. In this position, Ukraine’s only path is to offer a paradigm of existence that possesses a higher degree of stability and resilience than the ideological programs of empires.
The Ukrainian Homo Ludens paradigm or as it is called ironically – the “ukrobuddhism” – can be seen as not only Ukrainian phenomenon, but the European paradigm of existence that will prevail in stability over ideological imperial programs.
The adherents of this paradigm—the “Ukrobuddhists“—reject the trap of reactivity. To react is to enter someone else’s narrative, a race where it is impossible to overtake the one who has already chosen the trajectory.
We don’t define ourselves through opposition; instead, we focus is directed inward, toward self-improvement, self-awareness, and the avoidance of suffering through the conscious making and implementation of decisions.
We constantly return to the fundamental questions: “Who am I, and why am I doing this?” refusing to let anyone — especially the enemy — dictate the role, even in the heat of battle. We do not merely react; we transform. We do not fight for dominance within an existing space; we change the space entirely. Rather than engaging in traditional dialogue, we offer an “escalation of meanings,” where language is not a weapon, but a key to new worlds where weapons don’t matter.
We refuse to take external reality too seriously as we generate own meanings instead of recognition of the inherent “sacredness” of objects or phenomena, as any sense of the sacred can be manually constructed. The primary mode of engaging with reality is one of calm irony and self-reflection, which makes invulnerable to propaganda or disinformation, as the massive generating of meanings and senses leave no space for the narratives of the enemy.
The “Ukrobuddhist” possesses a firm sense of self but maintains the fluidity to inhabit any role — or to refuse them all, transitioning from a character to a director or a detached observer. The objective is not to win an argument, but to fundamentally rewrite its meaning. The goal is the cognitive superiority over chaos and those who weaponize it through two potential paths: either by imposing order upon chaos or by generating even greater uncertainty, and remaining ambivalent toward these choices. The key is to give own names to things and phenomenas, to manage uncertainty by either generating chaos or organizing chaos as we like. The information space does not shape the Ukrobuddhist; rather, the Ukrobuddhist shapes the information space, dictating the rhythm and the necessity for rethinking and reflexion. The process of creation holds a far higher priority than the act of destruction or countering or fighting. We should not merely oppose an existing system or counter the threats; we build our own. We do not try to organize someone else’s chaos; we generate our own. Worldview leadership is achieved by saturating the environment with own culture, names, phenomena, and values. While suffering and empathy are inherent, trauma is not treated as a “totem” or a fixed identity. Instead, it serves as a source of self-awareness—a tool for maintaining inner focus and a deeper vision. Neither victory nor defeat has any power, for only a voluntary refusal to play signifies the loss of subjectivity, because their existence is defined by the game itself — and by the continuous act of reflecting on that game and rewriting its rules. Why to fight for existing worlds if new ones can be created. Why to choose to order a space or plunge it into chaos, when the most important thing is to dismantle its artificial architecture.
The “Ukrobuddhists” do not merge their identity with the state; rather, they view the state as a service dedicated to their own sovereignty. They cherish and protect their own boundaries and those of others, viewing the use of violence simply as a tool to ensure the integrity of those boundaries. For the Ukrobuddhist, dignity and a readiness for conflict define the “path of play,” rooted in the conviction that nothing can be greater than the human being. In this paradigm, Dignity and Freedom are not “from” or “for” — they are the “how.” They are the manner in which one exists.
This stands in direct opposition to the ontologies of superpowers, promoting the ontology of the “superhuman”, who refuses to be victim or instrument of God, empire, or a “global project.” In the end, all empires will fall, faiths will become more compassionate and tolerant, and “global projects” will be dismantled and reformatted. Only the human being and their love for the game will remain unchanged. In these respects, the Ukrainian proposal of the Homo Ludens paradigm is deeply aligned with the core values of Europe — a continent that currently lacks, and will likely lack for some time, a definitive policy for the coming “phase transition.” Since Ukraine has no other geopolitical partners, it must seize the initiative and demonstrate leadership in the process of transformation across the European continent.
Greater Europe can only survive as a geopolitical player, one that, unlike the USA, China, and Russia, continues to center on human dignity (as per Article 1 of the EU Charter of Fundamental Rights in the Treaty of Lisbon), if Ukraine takes the lead in value approaches and security policy. Beyond this symbolic role, Ukraine offers practical tools for societal mobilization. Without a full mobilization of all resources and capabilities, there is no hope of safely navigating the current phase transition and surviving it. European society requires broad mobilization. This involves engaging experts from diverse fields, countries, nations, beliefs, paradigms, and genders in this difficult work. This necessity extends beyond merely building military potential.
The statement by Finnish President Alexander Stubb on August 18, 2025, at a meeting with European leaders and Donald Trump — “I believe that the very fact that we are sitting at this table today has great symbolic significance: this is Team Europe and Team United States supporting Ukraine.” — may have unintentionally captured the current geopolitical reality. This view is echoed by the renowned British historian Timothy Ash, who suggests the “WEST” we once imagined no longer exists. Instead we have the “team United States” and the “team Europe“.
Kremlin propaganda, led by Vladimir Putin, now exclusively criticizes European countries, having completely ceased its focus on the USA. Both Donald Trump and Vladimir Putin view Europe as an obstacle to achieving their respective geopolitical objectives. For Ukraine, European states represent salvation. However, with the continent’s primary security donor potentially becoming a source of threat, Europe cannot secure itself without Ukraine. Consequently, not only Ukraine but all of Europe must transform into a “steel porcupine” for collective security.
The “steel porcupine” concept for European security raises two fundamental questions: who will serve as the security provider for Europe, and who will bear the financial cost of it? Currently, discussions revolve around security guarantees for Ukraine, which could be provided bilaterally. This is significant because Ukraine is arguably the continent’s most experienced army, aggressive intelligence services, and the deepest understanding of the enemy and its threats. Noone in Europe understands Russia as Ukraine does.
Under these circumstances, the Homo Ludens paradign (“Ukrobuddhism”) emerges as a potential paradigm for Europe. This practice places the individual — with their dignity, sense of irony, and the right to define the rules — at its core. It offers a path to transcend the historical burdens of colonialism and two world wars. This ontological foundation for a Greater Europe could neutralize the fear of Russia among Europeans and even provide an avenue for Russian citizens who oppose their state’s policies and believe Russia belongs in Europe. Kyiv has the potential to become the ontological gravity center and the hub of the continent’s security architecture, provided European nations commit to financing this crucial role.
