Remus Cernea on Ukraine: Morale, Media Narratives, and Drone War

Author(s): Scott Douglas Jacobsen

Publication (Outlet/Website): The Good Men Project

Publication Date (yyyy/mm/dd): 2025/11/06

Remus Cernea is a Romanian human rights, secular, and environmental advocate who served in Romania’s Chamber of Deputies from 2012 to 2016. A former leader in the Green political movement, he ran for president in 2009 and co-founded in 2003 the Solidarity for Freedom of Conscience, the first Romanian civil society group promoting the separation of church and state. In 2008 he founded the Romanian Humanist Association where he was its president between 2008-2012, and in 2013 the General Assembly of the Humanist International was organized by RHA in Bucharest, Romania. Beyond politics ans secularism, he has campaigned for animal welfare and sustainable development, and in recent years has reported from Ukraine, documenting civilian resilience under attack. Trained in philosophy, Cernea brings a values-forward, pro-democracy lens to public debates, arguing for Western solidarity with people resisting authoritarian aggression.

In this interview with Scott Douglas Jacobsen, Cernea contrasts Russia’s deliberate strikes on civilians and infrastructure with Ukraine’s focus on energy and war-production targets, noting a June 2025 drone operation that destroyed multiple Russian bombers. He says Ukrainian morale remains high—even in bombed Kharkiv, where children study in new underground schools—and frames the war as democracy versus autocracy. Cernea warns Western coverage can misread the conflict and urges sustained aid, not just rhetoric. He cautions against extremes on the left and the right, recalls communist repression, and argues that NATO must learn Ukraine’s drone warfare. Hope, he adds, is no strategy; deterrence and principles must align.

Scott Douglas Jacobsen: Now, regarding the style of violence and its coverage: third-party sources show that Russians target not only military sites but also civilians, infrastructure, energy facilities, apartment complexes, and even UNESCO heritage sites—as we witnessed on our first trip. Ukrainians, as far as we know, have been targeting energy and economic sectors of Russia’s war machine—oil, gas, and similar strategic targets.

There was that extraordinary operation earlier this year, when Ukrainian drones managed to destroy a large number of Russian bombers—a remarkable counterstrike.

Remus Cernea: That extraordinary operation, by the way, was named Spider Web.

Jacobsen: Two things come to mind from our last conversation. Regarding the left-wing Irish newly elected President, Catherine Connolly: politically, the left tends to be more hypercritical of what it perceives as Western or American actions. The right, on the other hand, tends to view anything tied to Soviet history as inherently evil. Both sides can fall into overreach and misperception.

So when they produce critiques or reportage, they sometimes miss the mark. In the current context, how do Ukrainians feel they are being portrayed—accurately and inaccurately? I ask because that’s an issue that’s come up in private conversations —sometimes heated ones —that aren’t for publication, because there is dignity in privacy, but are still important for fleshing things out.

Cernea: That’s a fundamental question, because I’ll tell you something deeply touching. After the full-scale invasion began in February 2022, Ukrainians truly believed the West would help—and the West did. Maybe not enough, but there was support.

When I visited the metro stations in Kharkiv, where many schools now operate underground, I saw something remarkable. Because most schools above ground were destroyed—about 60% of Kharkiv’s schools are wholly or partially ruined—children now study underground in metro stations.

And on the walls of these underground classrooms, I saw quotes and portraits of the Founding Fathers of the United States. Imagine that: Ukrainian children learning in subway tunnels surrounded by images of Jefferson, Franklin, and Washington. The Ukrainians are showing that they share the values of the Western world—values they want to live by and learn from—after decades of life under communism.

The people they now admire, the symbols they aspire to, are not Soviet—they’re Western. American, British, democratic. You see their faces and words on the walls of classrooms.

Think about what that means in their minds. For Ukrainians, Russia represents the past—the empire that killed, destroyed, and conquered them. Ukraine declared independence in 1918, but in the following years, it was invaded by the Bolsheviks under Lenin. After three years of war, Ukraine was forcibly absorbed into the USSR. Ukrainians did not join willingly; they were conquered.

Now, they are fighting and dying to join a different world—a Western world built on democracy and human rights.

So imagine what it would mean if the West were to abandon them. Should they take down those portraits of the Founding Fathers from the school walls? Their only hope is that the Western countries will remain true to those same principles and ideas—those of the Founding Fathers—and continue helping democracy survive wherever it struggles to exist. That was always the ideal.

That was the original idea behind the fall of communism—to help people achieve democracy and remove dictatorships. And I hope Western countries do not fall for new ideological traps, whether from the far left or the far right, and end up sympathizing with Russia. Because Putin’s Russia—his regime, not the Russian people—is the greatest evil in our world today.

Imagine this: Russia has sent North Korean troops to fight against Ukrainians. Can you believe that? Who could have imagined that one day North Korean soldiers would be fighting against a European nation? It was unimaginable—but Russia made it happen.

Russia is also aligned with Hamas. Members of Hamas visited Moscow just months before the October 7, 2023, attacks. That war benefited Russia, because it shifted the world’s attention away from Ukraine and toward Gaza.

So yes, Russia is evil, and it will exploit every possible opportunity to weaken Western support for Ukraine. I only hope that reason will prevail—and that political leaders in every democratic country will maintain moral clarity, understanding which side stands for what.

One side is pro-democracy, standing for human dignity and freedom. The other side—Putin’s side—is imperialist, utterly indifferent to human life. Putin kills his own people; countless Russian soldiers die on the front lines in Ukraine.

I hope that leaders like President Connolly, American politicians, and others around the world will continue to follow democratic principles. Because if Western nations forget these values, they too will eventually fall. It is frighteningly easy to lose democracy.

We see this struggle in Romania as well—and likely in many countries—between citizens who believe in democratic ideals and those drawn to far-right or far-left movements. Both extremes are anti-democratic and can undermine the very foundation of our societies.

It is disheartening to see. In Romania’s elections last December, the far right won more than 30 percent of the seats in parliament. We came dangerously close to electing a far-right president. Fortunately, most Romanians were wise enough to choose a centrist leader—one who is pro-Ukraine, pro-Europe, pro-NATO, and pro-democracy. But it was close. Too close.

And worryingly, even among young people—bright, educated university students—you hear echoes of Catherine Connolly’s rhetoric: “We shouldn’t spend money on defence.” But that, I tell you, is national suicide.

This is suicide. If we do not have armies strong enough to deter Russia, Russia will attack us—maybe not today, perhaps not tomorrow, but eventually. Russia has attacked Romania twelve times over the last three hundred years. We have a long and painful history of Russian aggression and territorial losses. That’s why today there exists the Republic of Moldova—a territory forcibly taken by Russia in 1812, recovered by Romania in 1918, and taken back by the Soviets from Romania in 1940 and 1945. After the fall of communism, Moldova declared its independence. But the legacy of Russian aggression runs deep.

Fortunately, Romania is now a member of NATO. We hope that other NATO countries will defend us if Russia ever attacks again. But NATO must remain strong—and must learn from Ukraine how to fight drone warfare. At this moment, no European country truly knows how to wage this new kind of war.

It’s not enough to manufacture drones. You must have skilled operators who understand tactics—how to deploy drones efficiently. Otherwise, you could have a million drones and still not know how to use them effectively. Ukraine has that experience. No NATO country does.

In fact, I’d say that now, we Europeans need security guarantees from Ukraine. Not the other way around. If Russia were to attack us, Ukraine might be the one to help defend us. They are, without exaggeration, the best fighters in the world today in drone-type warfare.

Jacobsen: I like the way you framed that earlier—shifting from geography, the “West versus East” concept, to values instead. Because as time goes on, that old East-West divide feels less and less relevant. With international travel, mass communication, and cultural exchange, those lines are much more porous now.

Framing it as a conflict between democracy and autocracy is much more meaningful. It’s something the United Nations and most people across the world can agree on: those who desire freedom and self-determination versus those who seek control and domination.

Cernea: Exactly. Unfortunately, to have democracy, you must fight for it. If you look at history, nearly every democracy was born through struggle—the American War of Independence, the French Revolution, and many others. Even Romania had its own democratic revolutions—in 1848, then a war for independence in 1877 against the Ottoman Empire, and through the two World Wars, then an anti-communist revolution in 1989. Democracy and freedom always come at a cost and need fights and sacrifice. The danger now is forgetting that. People grow comfortable, and they forget that democracy must be defended.

If you start believing that democracy is something given for free—that it will always be there—you’ve already fallen into a trap. Many people living comfortably in democracies, enjoying high standards of living, assume history will continue this way forever. But there are no guarantees. None.

History doesn’t move in one direction. There are constant risks—wars, terrorism, and even technological dangers. Some people say that if artificial superintelligence emerges, it could destroy us all. I’ve seen these arguments. The point is, threats come in many forms—political, technological, and military—and we must understand and honor the values we’re defending.

Unfortunately, many people don’t. They don’t know how democracy evolved or why, from time to time, people must risk their lives to protect it. Too many young people, especially, take democracy for granted—or worse, reject it because they don’t understand it.

Some of them turn toward Marxist ideology, chasing a utopian idea of resetting society, destroying capitalism, and building something “new”. But that’s dangerous. I lived through a utopia once—Romania under communism. In 1984, I was literally living in the world Orwell described in his book 1984. Constant surveillance, propaganda, fear—every aspect of life was controlled during those times.

So when I hear young people today talk about creating a “new system”, I know where that road leads: to dictatorship and historical catastrophe.

Jacobsen: I wanted to touch on two points there, first, about younger people, and second, about relying on hope. Hope alone feels suitable for a while; it can motivate, yes, but it isn’t a strategy. Real change depends on problem-solving and sustained action.

Regarding the younger generation, especially here in North America, many rely on social media activism—what we call “keyboard warriors”. They believe that posting a meme, a passionate comment, or a grammatically perfect paragraph on Meta, X, or Bluesky will somehow change the world. But it doesn’t.

On the conservative side, it’s a bit different. They may be active on platforms like X or Gab, but often they express their identity through traditions—World War II commemorations, heritage events, national ceremonies. Those matter too. They preserve continuity.

But when it comes to the active defence or redefinition of foundational values—sometimes, as you said, moral conviction is not enough. When people are attacking, you need missile defence and munitions, not just words.

This brings us full circle to where these first interviews began—when there was talk about Canada’s financial and military support for Ukraine.

“Thank you again, Canada, for that. It truly matters.”

Per capita, Canada has contributed more than other Western countries.

“…But money is not munitions”—that’s the core point.

How does morale seem on the ground for civilians and for the military?

Cernea: That’s a good question, but before I answer, I want to add something briefly. The far right offers us a utopia of a past that never existed, while the far left provides us with a utopia that will never exist.

The far right looks backward, romanticizing a version of history that never was. The past wasn’t better—it was worse than today. The far left, on the other hand, promises an equal and fair society in the future, but the principles they push often lead to historical nightmares, not to progress. The future they describe will never materialize; it’s a dangerous illusion.

Now, about morale. I saw many people in Kharkiv—you remember, we spent quite a bit of time there together, in many Ukrainian cities attacked by Russians. There were people everywhere, even families with children walking the streets. The front line is only twenty to twenty-five kilometres away, and Kharkiv is heavily bombed, with air raid alarms sounding often, for several times daily. Yet people stay. They live their lives despite the close threats of the war. That tells you their morale is high.

They believe—almost with certainty—that the city will not fall. If they thought otherwise, especially those with children, they would have left long ago. Civilian morale is quite strong. They are not utopian; war has stripped that away. War makes people realistic. Some may become cynical—that’s the danger—but generally, it forces a kind of clear-eyed realism.

When you face death often enough, you stop believing in fantasies. Most Ukrainians I’ve met are intensely realistic people. Of course, many carry trauma—some have lost friends or family—but they keep going. The simple act of continuing to live in these cities is in itself a form of resistance.

When you see a mother walking through a park with her child during an air raid alarm, not hiding but carrying on—that’s resistance. They are defying death. It shows a strength that runs very deep.

As for the soldiers, some are traumatized, yes. They’ve seen and experienced terrible things. Some have doubts—whether Ukraine will win the war or recover all occupied territories—but you cannot imagine an army holding the front lines for three and a half years without high morale.

Yes, there have been desertions—thousands of cases—but that’s understandable. War is hell. Everyone at the front is living through it. Yet despite that, the Ukrainian army continues to fight, proving that its collective morale remains remarkably strong.

Near the front lines—well, actually, there are no real front lines anymore. It’s a killing zone. A zone about twenty kilometers wide where both armies operate drones: anything that moves there can become a target for an FPV drone.

The life expectancy for a Russian soldier in that zone is roughly one week. One week—that’s how long they usually survive. Of course, Ukrainians also suffer losses. But it’s impossible to imagine an army holding against such a massive force without high morale.

So overall, morale is quite good, strong, with some exceptions. And I must add that the Ukrainian army fights in a way that respects the Geneva Conventions. The Ukrainian drones and missiles attack the oil refineries and war-related factories. But the Russians attack mainly the residential buildings in the Ukrainian cities, trying to terrorize the civilians. 

Jacobsen: Thank you for the opportunity and your time, Remus.

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